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obsessivevoidkitten · 4 months

Text

Feeding

Male Half-Demon Yandere x Gender Neutral Vampire Reader CW: Noncon, blood drinking, biting/cutting for blood, making out, drugged sex, drugged reader, forced addiction, overstimulation, reader fucked well and truly out of their mind whilst high on demon blood, aftercare, general yandere behavior Word count: 1.6k (Sorry this took forever. The image of reader sitting on dick while sucking blood from a wrist was living rent free in my head and I had to write this. Written on my phone, hopefully I fixed all the weird formatting and typos.)

The full moon shone brightly in the clear winter night. With each exhale, your breath plumed out visibly. The shadows of trees stretched long and spindly, grasping for a material world they were incapable of grabbing hold of. You hid amongst the bushes, silently watching the small bar in front of you. It was a secluded place. Quiet and down the road from anything else. Perfect for a person to grab a drink. Even a vampire like yourself. This was your first night in this town, but there were almost always places like this to slake your thirst.

Wait for a drunk customer to come stumbling out and nab them to have a drink of your own. Then, if you needed to, use your hypnotic powers to make them think it was all a dream.

That's what you had intended tonight. But then you caught a whiff of a human that smelled much more tempting than any other you had ever encountered.

The bartender. Your sharp ears could pick up his name even from outside. Wade. Not that you needed to bother knowing it.

You decided to wait for the last lingering patron to leave the bar before sneaking in and making your move. It took a few hours, and your joints grew stiff in the cold, but finally, the bartender was alone, and you could make your move. You were practically salivating as you slipped into the bar, and his scent hit you more directly. You couldn't wait to taste what waited in his veins. Luckily, you didn't have to.

"Sorry, we've just closed," he said as he heard you enter.

With superhuman speed, you rushed behind him, barely having time to note the surprised expression on his face.

You wasted no time on pleasantries and sank your fangs into his neck.

Instantly, you were lost in his flavor. His blood was glorious. But after one drink, your eyes glazed and your thoughts were foggy.

He plucked you off of him easily, and you fell to the floor, dizzy and confused but yearning for more of him. You were so thirsty. A mild sense of euphoria washed over you, but your body felt weak and wobbly.

Wade stared down at you, smirking. His brown hair turned silver, small black horns sprouted from his forehead, and his hazel eyes glowed red.

"What's wrong? Bit off more than you could chew?"

Not much blood had been consumed, so you started to get to your feet, but Wade wanted you nice and helpless. He rubbed his fingers to the bite mark you had left and shoved his fingers into your mouth and smeared the drug on your tongue. You immediately slumped against the counter.

He went and locked up the bar before returning to your side and administering another hit of his blood. You eagerly drank it up. It was too irresistible.

Then he gently led you downstairs where he apparently lived.

"Didn't realize I was part demon or didn’t know demon blood was like a narcotic? Maybe you didn't know either of those..."

He tossed you on the bed rather unceremoniously.

"Thought you were gonna get an easy meal, but you're gonna feed me too!"

Assuming that he ate beings with magic, you looked up at him with a horrified expression and scrambled to get off the bed. He stopped you and pushed you back.

"I'm nourished by intoxication and addiction the way sex and lust nourishes an incubus," he explained, having noted the fear on your face.

Though you still had a fierce thirst for his blood, you weren't addicted. Yet. Just significantly increased blood cravings. You had the presence of mind to know what he intended, and you didn't want to be a captive.

"You can't do this!"

The effects of his blood on your body were rapidly wearing off. It had only been a small amount. You could use your speed to zip awa-

"I can do whatever I want to a little leech like you~"

Wade pinned you on the bed and used the sharp nail of his thumb to slice his wrist before shoving his wrist to your mouth. You tried to turn away and keep your mouth closed, but you could feel the warm blood tingle your lips, and the smell was all-encompassing. Tired of your struggles, he smacked you hard across the cheek. You could have shrugged off a strike from a normal human, but he had demonic strength. As he had anticipated, you cried out in pain. With your mouth open, he jammed his bloody wrist right into your mouth.

Once a drop had touched your tongue for the third time that night, all your resolve melted away. You relaxed under him and greedily lapped at his wrist. Now that it was in you, you needed more.

As you gave into your dark desires and fed off Wade, he fed off the intoxication and the budding addiction growing inside you.

But the whole situation had his cock straining painfully in his jeans.

He maneuvered your clothes off as well as his, but your attention was focused on your meal. You whimpered and grabbed for his arm as he pulled it away to lube up his cock. Just because he was doing this for nourishment didn't mean he couldn't have some fun. Besides, being all cute and needy for his blood made you look far too tempting for the half-demon.

He pulled you into his lap and slid his thick cock into you.

Wade put his arm up to you so you could suckle from his wrist as he slowly fucked into you. A large demonic cock like Wade's would have stretched and hurt the hole of any human, but you were far more durable. In fact, it felt quite nice. His blood seemed to heighten pleasurable sensations while reducing unpleasant ones.

You moaned softly as you fed.

"That's it, take alllll you want babe. I regenerate faster than you can drink."

It must have been true. His wound had healed and you had to bite his wrist to draw more blood. He didn't seem to mind.

The demon kissed your neck and sucked it softly as he continued pumping into you. Never too hard to interrupt your meal.

He kept the slow and considerate pace until you had finished. Blood was smeared all over the lower half of your face, your eyes glossy and half lidded. You were barely cognizant of your surroundings anymore. All you knew was that you felt warm, happy, relaxed and, for the first time since you had turned, alive.

Wade angled your face towards him and kissed you deeply from behind, enjoying the taste of blood from your lips and the rush of energy he got from getting you high. He brushed his tongue against your fangs to draw blood so you could suck it while the two of you made out sloppily. The half-demon broke the kiss, a sanguine string of saliva and blood connected your lips for a moment. Wade hastened the tempo of his thrusts into you as his mind raced over the implications of having you.

A human would have died from just a drink of demon's blood. That's why he blended each bottle of booze in his bar with but a single drop. Just enough to subconsciously coax humans to crave coming back to his bar and give Wade a bit more intoxication to sustain himself. But he didn't have to hold back with you at all.

Rapturous moans left your body as your pleasure reached its zenith. Your normally frighteningly pale face was actually flushed.

"You enjoying yourself?" Wade smirked and kept going.

You could only weep silently as the overwhelming sensations from the drug and sex mingled into an overwhelming wave of ecstasy bearing down brutally upon you.

With supernatural stamina he kept going for hours, he readministered his blood as needed. Every time he made you cum you whimpered. Each orgasm seemed to hold within it a greater and greater threat of throwing you off the brink of sanity and shattering your mind.

By the end of it, when he had finally had enough after filling you with cum over and over again, you were a shaky drooling mess. His demonic features faded away as he picked you up. Then he took you to the tub and bathed you gently, getting all the dried blood off your face and cleaning up all the semen leaking from your hole.

"Sorry I had to give you so much. Have to get you hooked on it."

Wade picked you up and wrapped you in a soft towel. You were too out of it to respond.

"The crashes aren't bad though at least. Extreme cravings but no life threatening illness or anything."

He kissed your forehead and tucked you in before getting under the covers and spooning you.

"You're gonna love it here I promise. All the blood you want. I'm not just keeping you here to feed me, I could see glimpses inside your mind when your inebriation nourished me."

The half-demon ran a hand soothingly up and down your side.

"I know we're compatible lovers. You'll see."

You could hear his words but could just barely process them.

"B-but.." You protested weakly.

"Hush now. You need to rest."

He put his arm around your waist and held you protectively. It was so much easier to just let sleep claim you than it was to resist.

Wade stayed up far longer though. All the thoughts of the wonderful life you two would share together running through his head and keeping him awake. It would be amazing. He couldn't wait for tomorrow.

He'd treat you so well and make sure his little vampire was always happy. And he'd keep you hopelessly addicted to his blood. You'd be so helpless and dependent on him that you'd simply never be able to escape.

#yandere teratophilia #yandere terato #yandere x reader #monster boyfriend #gender neutral reader #yandere monster #male yandere x gn reader #my ocs #yandere boyfriend #yandere #male yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male #yandere x you #yandere demon #yandere half-demon #vampire reader #My OC Wade

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hischierhoney · 4 months

Text

OFF LIMITS

nico hischier x hughes sister!reader

part 2: I Know available now!

It’s not the first time they’ve run into you on a night out, and Nico’s pretty sure it won’t be the last. You live in New York, close enough that your paths overlap quite often. It is, however, the first time he’s seen you this drunk. On top of that, it’s the first time Nico’s run into you without your brothers with him.

Jack may be younger than you, but what he lacks in age he makes up for in overprotectiveness. When they run into you at a bar, Nico rarely gets a chance to even say a word to you before Jack is questioning how much you’ve had to drink or why you’re even out in the first place.

But Jack is in Toronto, for the All Stars game, and Luke’s still too young to be out at a bar and is also out of town, and you’re there, standing under a neon sign, leaning up against the wall. You look hazy. Out of it. There’s a guy standing nearly over you, arm next to your head on the wall. Nico’s stomach twists.

“Isn’t that Hughes’ sister?” Someone asks.

Nico nods, juts his chin at the scene unfolding. “Does she look uncomfortable to you?”

His teammate lets out a snort. “Was wondering the same thing.”

Nico keeps a watchful eye on the situation for just a moment. He doesn’t want to overstep, but something feels off. When you put your hand on the guy’s shoulder and try to push him away, and he stays put, caging you in farther, the switch flips. He’s gone from concerned friend to overprotective captain within a second. He passes his beer off to someone and makes his way across the bar in a few short steps.

“Hey man. Back off.” He snaps.

The guy turns with a glare. Nico stands his ground. Your eyes meet his, and he watches relief wash over your face. He knows then that he’s made the right choice.

“I saw her first,” the guy sneers.

Nico really didn’t want to get in a fight tonight. He was supposed to have a chill night out with the guys, maybe talk to a couple girls, get his mind off of… things. But now he’s here.

“Nico,” you say, softly, and he watches the guy’s face drop as he realizes you know Nico.

“Hi,” he says, kindly and quietly to you. He juts his chin at the guy and shoves his shoulder firmly. “Get lost.”

The man melts away into the crowd. Nico watches him go. Then he turns back to you, to where you’re leaning against the wall, doe eyed and drunk as hell as you stare up at him. His breath gets caught in his throat for just a moment- if your brothers knew the things he thought about when you looked at him like that, they’d have his head. Jack and Luke are a bit oblivious, he thinks. He’s lucky he’s not around you and Quinn at the same time very often. There was that game last year, in Vancouver- you in your Devils jersey, elbowing him lightly, and Quinn’s glare trained on him, one raised brow, like he was just waiting for Nico to take a wrong step.

“My hero,” you say, reaching out to tug on his wrist.

Your words are extremely slurred, and when he gets a closer look he realizes you’re probably close to blacking out. The light is gone from your eyes. He winces.

“Okay, schatz,” he says. He ruffles your hair just to get you to stop staring up at him through your eyelashes, afraid of the way it makes his heart jump. “Can I call someone to come get you?”

You shrug. “Where’s Jacky? Or Lukey?”

Nico groans. “Toronto, and who knows. Not here, though.”

You purse your lips. “Right.” You dig in your pocket for your phone, find it, and Nico watches you try and turn the screen on with no luck- it’s dead. “Huh. That’s not good.”

And… Nico could call one of your brothers. Could ask for some sort of phone number- a roommate or a friend or anyone. But as you stare up at him, you lean away from the wall and fall into his chest, and he knows he needs to act quickly. Preferably before you pass out at the bar.

…..

You don’t remember the walk out of the bar, or the car ride, or the elevator up to the apartment that you’re sure you must’ve taken. Your world zaps back into focus on the entryway of Nico’s apartment. You’ve been here twice- both for parties. It’s different when it’s not full of people. Feels more like Nico.

You toe your shoes off in the doorway. Nico swipes them to the side with his foot and then reaches out to catch you when you stumble. You lean into his shoulder and laugh- he smells good, like honey and whiskey. You want to breathe him in. He laughs, too- you can tell by the way his broad shoulders shake.

He leads you out of the entryway and into the kitchen. He grabs you by your hips to maneuver you, and you nearly squeal at the feeling of his fingers splayed against your body. Instead, when he moves you to lean against the counter, you sigh. You brace yourself, elbows on the granite, and stare up at him as he moves through the room.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he says in a warning tone.

“Like what?” You ask, innocently.

If he’d look at you, you’d bat your eyelashes at him. But he’s not looking, and you’re not going to waste your energy. He has his head in the fridge, an empty glass in his hand. He returns with a pitcher of water and pours it into the glass before sliding it over to you.

He never clarifies what he means by staring like that. You want to circle back to it, but you’re getting really tired, and the water is cool and refreshing. You laugh when you spill a little bit, the water running down your chin and neck. Nico just groans and rolls his eyes.

“You’re drunk,” he states, like you both didn’t already know it.

You nod. “I had a lotta tequila.”

He gives you a look of exasperation mixed with affection. “Trying to forget?”

You shrug. “Something like that.”

Once you’ve finished the glass, he starts maneuvering you again, hands on your shoulders this time as he walks you down the hallway. You wonder what it would be like to have him do this all the time- maybe when you’re not drunk. Does he manhandle his girlfriends, his dates, like this? Maybe manhandle isn’t the right word. You don’t feel handled, you feel… taken care of. Like he’s making sure you’re exactly where you should be. It’s sweet. It makes you shiver just a little bit.

He mistakes the movement for a chill, and he rubs his hands up and down your shoulders. You sigh. The two of you step into the bathroom, and he digs through the drawer until he finds a new toothbrush and toothpaste, and he hands them both to you.

You stumble your way towards the bedroom five minutes later, his hands on your hips again. He pushes open the door to his bedroom and leads you to the bed, having you sit down on the edge while he heads for the dresser. You look around. You’ve been to his place, but never here. It’s… calm. Quiet. The sheets and duvet beneath you are soft, and the lamp next to the bed casts a warm glow over everything. He has trophies taking up space on his desk. The bed is unmade, blankets rumpled and messy.

“Always wondered what your room looked like,” you say.

His shoulders tense, though he shakes it out a few moments after. “Yeah?”

You nod, forgetting he isn’t looking at you, and then supplement with words. “Can learn a lot about a person from their bedroom.”

He laughs and looks over his shoulder at you. “What have you learned, then?”

You shrug and cast your eyes to the ceiling. He goes back to rifling through the drawers. You flop backwards onto the end, laughing lightly at the way it bounces beneath you.

Something lands on your stomach- a large t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You pick them up and hold them above your head.

“Get changed,” he says. When you lean up to look at him, the whole room spins. He sighs, like he can tell. “I’ll be back in a second, okay?”

…..

Nico nearly panics five minutes later, because he knocks on the door to ask if you’re decent and you don’t answer. He’s torn between worry about seeing something he shouldn’t, and worry about you dying- one of them trumps the other, so he shoves his way into the room frantically.

You’re laid out on the bed, swallowed up by his t-shirt, the drawstring of the shorts pulled tight around your waist. Your lips are just barely parted, soft sighs escaping with each rise and fall of your chest. You’re asleep. He could leave you, but right now you’re asleep on your back, and very drunk, and he’s worried you’re going to throw up and- they warned him about that, years ago, when he first started going to parties. Friends don’t let friends sleep on their backs.

He crawls up onto the bed and tucks you into the blankets. Then he rolls you onto your side, and sighs when you immediately try to roll back onto your back. He repeats the process, and this time you groan loudly in response. Without really thinking about it, he sits down on the bed behind you and props his leg against your back. That seems to keep you in place- you lean into the warmth but you don’t try to roll over again.

So. That’s great, except, now he’s stuck. Realistically, he was going to stay anyways. If he was the last person to see you and something awful happened, he’d never forgive himself, and neither would your brothers. So it’s fine, really, that you’re leaning against him, but… you’re warm, and breathing softly, and your hair is strewn all over the pillowcase, and god, he hates the way it all makes him blush.

He can’t do anything about it, especially not now, with the state you’re in. So he just sits and watches you sleep, the way he’s sort of always dreamed about.

Hours later, Nico’s woken from a half asleep state by a loud noise- it’s his cell phone, ringing on the nightstand. He scrambles to pick up, blinking blearily at the screen. 4:53 am, and Jack is calling him. He wouldn’t normally answer, but it’s Jack, and by now he’s probably heard about you, so he swipes to take the call.

“It’s not even 5am, Jack,” he says softly.

“Hischier.” A voice returns- it’s not Jack.

“Quinn.” He replies, carefully.

He keeps his voice low. His gaze flickers down to you. You’re asleep -on your side, thank god- one arm wrapped around his leg. He swallows tightly and carefully brushes a stray piece of hair from your face. You don’t stir.

“It’s not even 5am,” he repeats.

Quinn scoffs. “I know. Woke up to go do some early morning training, and imagine my surprise when I see about ten texts from various people telling me you took my baby sister home with you last night.”

Right. Everybody knows everybody in the NHL. Nico rolls his eyes. You’re older than both Jack and Luke- you’re not a baby. He refrains from saying that, though- knowing it’ll only upset Quinn more. He may sound relatively calm now, but Nico can sense the undercurrent of tension.

“It’s not like that,” Nico says.

“Right. And you’re just whispering for the fun of it, then? Not because you’re afraid to wake her?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “She was wasted. I brought her back here to keep an eye on her. Did they tell you about how I nearly punched a guy to get him to leave her alone?”

He hears Quinn falter whatever he was going to say next. Then he speaks up again. “Doesn’t explain why you’re close enough to her right now that you’d need to be whispering.”

“I was worried she was going to choke on her own vomit,” Nico says curtly. “So I stayed up most of the night making sure she stayed on her side.”

“Right, sure, by what- curling up with her?” Quinn sneers.

Nico slumps down against the headboard. “Jesus, Hughes. You trusted me to take care of your brothers. You said that yourself. You can’t trust me with this?”

“It’s a bit different and we both know it,” Quinn says.

Nico figures that’s fair. If it was his sister… he understands. He just wishes Quinn would give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Look, man. Nothing happened. I swear to you, I wouldn’t ever do anything to harm her, alright? We ran into her at a bar, she was wasted and by herself and trying to push some guy away and he wasn’t letting up. So I put a stop to it, and we couldn’t call any of her friends because her phone was dead. And not sure if you’ve noticed, but your brothers are out of town. I didn’t want to leave her alone.”

He hears Quinn sigh. “You just happened to be there to save the day?”

Nico groans, this time a bit too loudly. You shift next to him, and suddenly you’re awake, blinking up at him with soft eyes. His heart catches in his chest. You wrinkle your nose, likely in confusion at the sight of him on the phone at 5am. He mouths your brother’s name, and your confusion only grows. You gesture for the phone.

“Quinn,” you say, sleepily. “It’s 5am. Why the fuck are you calling?”

Nico can’t hear what your brother is saying anymore- a welcome reprieve, really. You roll your eyes and he holds back a laugh. When he meets your gaze, you’re fighting a laugh, too, he thinks.

“So you called because you were checking on me, right?” You ask, blinking up at Nico. “Not to harass my friend, right? Because that would be a rude thing to do at 5am, you know.”

You’re quiet for a few more moments. Then you yawn and roll your eyes again. “Okay. Well. I’m fine. I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.”

You hang up on him. Nico’s torn between laughter and panic, wondering if Quinn’s going to call again. The phone stays silent in your hand, though. He takes it from you, sets it down on the nightstand carefully. Your arm wraps back around his leg, and he tries not to let it make him sigh in relief.

“Sorry about him,” you say, quietly. “He’s like a guard dog. But one of those little yappy ones.”

Nico laughs. “Ankle biter.”

You nod and laugh, too. “Why’d you even answer?”

Nico drags a hand down his face. “He called from Jack’s phone.”

“Sneaky little bitch,” you scoff.

He shrugs. “To be fair, I probably should’ve at least let someone know where you were. If I’d woken up to a message about my sister like the one Quinn probably got…” he scrubs at the hair on his jaw. “Not sure I’d have reacted differently.”

You huff- your warm breath washes over his leg. “You hockey players are a bunch of gossips, you know that?”

He grumbles at that, not even giving it a real response. He slumps down further against the headboard, eyes feeling heavy, head feeling even heavier. You pat your hand against his knee and sigh.

“You should lay down,” you mumble.

He sighs. “Yeah. If you’re feeling okay I can go to the couch. Didn’t want to leave you alone, I was scared you’d throw up.”

You stare up at him. He stares right back. Pretty eyes. God, your brothers would kill him.

“No, like, just- lay down,” you tell him, patting the bed next to you. “It’s your bed.”

His heart does a somersault. His stomach follows suit. He shouldn’t. Jack will punch him, Luke will deliver the final blow, and then Quinn will fly down from Canada to stomp on his grave. But he’s exhausted, and the bed is comfy, and you… you’re there, like he’s always dreamed. He won’t touch you. He’ll just lay down right next to you, barely under the blankets, plenty of space between the two of you in his big bed. It’ll be fine.

…..

You wake up hours later with a raging headache and your head against Nico’s chest. You nearly panic until you remember who he is. Then you worry he’ll think it’s weird, having you pressed against him like this, but you realize his arm is wrapped tightly around your waist. He’s strong. You know that, but it’s different to feel it for yourself, the way the thick muscle presses against your back. His cheek is resting on top of your head, too, and he’s just barely snoring, soft sounds through his lips.

You’d stay right there forever if your head didn’t hurt so bad.

When you try to wiggle free, he holds on tighter, groaning softly. You try to pry his arm off your waist and he grunts this time. When he finally wakes up enough to be somewhat coherent, he doesn’t let go.

“Whatimesit?” He asks groggily, lips brushing against your forehead.

“Dunno,” you admit. “Head hurts. S’there ibuprofen in your cupboard?”

He groans softly and then peels his arm away. Before you can make a move, he rolls out of bed and stumbles towards the bathroom. You watch him go and try to pretend you don’t shiver at the roll of his back muscles beneath his t-shirt. He comes back with a glass of water and pills in his hands.

You fight a laugh at the sight of him, sleep rumpled and groggy, brows furrowed tightly. You push yourself up to sit up, leaning on your left hand and rubbing your eyes sleepily with your right. He hands over the water and the pills. You take them eagerly.

You blink up at him after you down the whole glass and cock your head. “Did I dream that Quinn called?”

Nico snorts and sits down on the edge of the bed. “Nope. That was real life.”

You roll your eyes. “Overprotective asshole.”

Nico laughs at that, eyes slipping closed. “Like I said. If I were him, I’d have had the same reaction.”

You let yourself fall back down to the bed. “Right, like you’d ever…” you cut yourself off with a laugh. “I mean, he and Jack and Luke are always so worried about teammates being into me or something. It’s ridiculous.”

Nico laughs, but it sounds hollow. You lay on the bed and stare at the ceiling. You’re already planning how you’re going to chew Quinn out for this one.

“I don’t blame him,” Nico says, quieter this time. “Just wish he wouldn’t have called so early.”

You close your eyes. “He’s annoying. Why’s he worried? Like… none of you guys have ever shown any interest in me, so. ”

Your lack of dating hockey players is not for lack of trying. There’d been Quinn’s teammates in college, and Jack’s from the other teams, too. You’ve had crushes that you’ve eventually let fizzle out after getting nothing in return. Nico’s the only crush that’s stuck around this long. Because despite the fact that you can barely even call him your friend, sometimes he pulls shit like this- taking you back to his place and staying up late to take care of you, fielding phone calls from your protective older brother. Nico’s a giant human teddy bear. You think at this point it’s gone beyond a crush.

“Why d’you think that is?” Nico asks, breaking you from your train of thought.

“Why do I think what is?” You reply.

You swear you feel his hand brush against your wrist.

“That none of us ever show any interest?” He says.

He’s quiet. Quieter, at least. More tentative. Softer. You pry one eye open and look up at him, and you swear he’s blushing. Hm.

“Because…you’re not- nobody’s interested?” You say, softer than even him.

He tilts his head. Your mouth feels dry.

“You remember the first Devils game you came to?” He asks. You nod, and he continues. “Before the game, in the locker room, Jack mentioned his sister was going to be there, and, well, you know how hockey players are. Couple people made comments about wanting to meet you, asked if you’d be at the afterparty. Jack made it pretty clear you were off limits. And, you know. Guys do that shit all the time, get overprotective over their sisters, and it’s never been, you know, an issue. Half the time I don’t even meet the guys’ family, you know?”

He trails off and scrubs his hand through his hair. You watch him closely.

“But that night, after the game, I was leaving and I saw… this girl. This beautiful girl. And she was wearing a Hughes jersey, and I was…” he laughs and closes his eyes. “I was coming up with all these stupid pick up lines, about how I was better than him, and I was walking towards her, and I swear I looked away for a second and then Jack was there. Hugging you, and glaring at me over your shoulder. I got the message.”

You reach up and pinch the bridge of your nose. “I hate my brothers.”

Nico laughs. “In Luke’s defense…”

“Don’t defend any of them, Luke’s the worst of them, he’s just quiet about it,” you scoff. “He chased my college boyfriend out of my dorm with a hockey stick.”

Nico laughs. You laugh, too, but you shake your head. He nudges his knee against yours. When his thumb brushes against your wrist this time, you open your eyes. That blush is there, soft and rosy on his cheeks.

“So you get it, then,” he says, head tilted as he blinks down at you. His hair is falling over his forehead messily. “Why I’ve never made a move.”

You’re so busy trying to process all the information of the day that you almost miss it. Why I’ve never made a move. It could’ve been a fleeting moment, just a quick crush when he saw you the first time, but something about this tells you it’s not. He presses his thumb to your pulse point on your wrist, and the warmth of his hand on your skin makes you shiver slightly. You stare up at him and chew on your lower lip.

“I think you should ask me about my limits,” you say, quietly. “They’re a lot different than my brothers’, you know.”

The grin on Nico’s face grows wider. “S’that so?”

You nod eagerly. He lets out a low, slow breath, like he’s bracing for impact. Something in your chest aches. He plants a hand next to your head and leans towards you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“What’re your limits on kissing hockey players?” He asks. His other hand comes up and cups the side of your face. He brushes his thumb against your Cupid’s bow. “Y’know. If the opportunity were to come up.”

You shrug. “Would depend on the player, I suppose.”

He nods in understanding, pursing his lips. “How about… hm. 6’1”, brown hair, brown eyes. Team captain. Nice guy, I guess. Would definitely make sure you got home safe from the bar.”

You reach up and draw a hesitant line on his jaw with your fingertip. “Team captain, huh? I do like a man in charge.”

He nods. You nod back. For a moment, the two of you sit in limbo.

In the end, you’re the one to wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself up to kiss him. When you do, though, he responds eagerly. He cages you in with both arms, and as you melt for him, he does the same for you. It’s a sweet kiss, one full of hope and excitement. You’re surrounded by him, by his arms and his touch and the smell of him on the sheets. You’ve never been more happy you ran into him at a bar than in that very moment.

…..

You’re back in that same bar from weeks ago, standing under the very same neon light. Except this time, there’s no guy hovering over you, and this time, you and Nico both know the other is going to be there. He’s at the bar, pretending he’s just noticed you, smiling and waving as he orders. You shake your empty cup at him, and he nods.

He wanders over a few minutes later, drinks in hand. He leans against the wall next to you and hands you the cup. The neon light glows bright on his dark hair. You sip your drink and smile up at him. Politely. Friendly. Nothing more. He’s a polite, friendly distance away. There’s space between the two of you.

“If we’re gonna make this believable, you’re going to have to come say hello to the rest of the team,” he says.

You nod. “In a minute.”

Across the bar, one of his teammates is yelling about a game on the screen. For now, you want just a minute with Nico. A moment for just the two of you. One where he’s not your brothers’ team captain, but your boyfriend instead.

The word feels new in your brain, would feel even newer on your lips if you said it. So far, you’ve only tried it out a couple times- when he asked the question, and then after that in the bathroom mirror, a wide grin on your face. You haven’t told anyone else. Nico’s worried about Jack and Luke’s reactions, and the season’s almost done- he wants to wait to tell them afterwards, when the results of a game won’t rest so heavily on how they take the news. It’s been a lot of staying in dates, movie nights at home on his couch, which both of you are partial to anyways. And lots of this, too- seemingly chance meetings at local bars, quick texts from him telling you where he’s headed with his friends and you showing up, purely coincidental to anyone other than him.

Eventually, you follow him through the crowd of people to a secluded corner full of hockey players. You spot your brothers, blissfully unaware, nursing matching beers. Just before everyone catches sight of the two of you, Nico sneaks a hand back and squeezes yours. You smile brightly.

“Look who I found!” Nico calls out.

He moves his grip on your hand to your wrist, raises your arm like you’ve won a fight. You laugh and shake your arm free of his hold. You’re met with cheers from the team, loudest of all from your brothers. You can wait to tell them. For now, the way he smiles at you is more than enough.

…..

“Should we just tell them we know they’re… a thing?” Luke asks.

Jack shakes his head, watching you and Nico. “Nah. Let ‘em sweat. She’ll slip up eventually, or he’ll start to freak out.” He sees Nico reach to grab your hip, then pull back at the last second like he’s been burned. A mix of disgust and amusement passes through him- you’re his sister, after all. “Jesus, dunno why they think they’re fooling anyone.”

Jack’s known since the day he got back and saw you at lunch. You’d been overly happy but basically refused to talk about your impromptu stay at Nico’s. Then, he’d seen Nico at practice, and he’d been much the same. By the time the team had gone out to a bar and you mysteriously happened to show up, he’d had his suspicions and had relayed them to Luke. They’d watched you and Nico leave the bar together one night when you thought nobody was looking.

Luke laughs. “Okay, but, when do we tell Quinn?”

Jack turns to him with wide eyes. “We don’t! D’you want our captain to die?”

Luke directs his gaze back towards you and the aforementioned captain. Jack follows suit and tries not to roll his eyes. The two of you aren’t touching, but the smiles on your faces say it all.

“I mean,” Luke starts quietly. “They’re kind of cute. And we want them to be happy, right?”

“Don’t even start,” Jack says firmly.

He’ll let it go for now, in the interest of finishing out the season on a good note. But after that, all bets are off. Definitely. Probably. Jack’s the one who set the rules, who declared you off limits, and he’ll stick to his word.

No matter how much the two of you together are starting to grow on him.

Part 2: I Know

if you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading! i hope you’ve enjoyed

#nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x you #nico hischier fanfic #Nico hischier fic #Nico hischier fluff #Nico hischier oneshot #Nico hischier fanfiction #Nico hischier imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl oneshot #nhl fluff

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bluemoon-fever · 1 month

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The First Time

pairing: ari levinson x fem!reader

summary: it's your first time with ari.

word count: 1.87k

prompt: ari levinson + "Tell me your favorite way to cum so I can satisfy you the way you deserve."

warnings: fluff, light angst(?), allusions to anxiety/low self-esteem, smut, unprotected sex, mentions of oral sex (f receiving), fingering, overstimulation kink, D/s undertones, soft!dom!ari, size kink, aftercare, pet names, creampie, choking, MINORS DNI

a/n: this is my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @labella420 for their Cum Together: Community Revival Extravaganza. this is my first work in a minute (i have WIPs, but i'm still trying to figure out how i want things to go). i'm exciting to see what everyone thinks and i hope you enjoy! (also this isn't edited and don't steal or repost this)

You feel utterly ridiculous. You’ve washed your hands for what felt like ten minutes, trying to hide the clamminess of your hands. After your fifteenth cleanse, you dry your hands and resign to the fact that your nervousness would not subside until you got this over it. Ugh, fine, you muttered under your breath as you succumb to your nerves.

Before you go out, you give yourself a once-over in the mirror. You had your hair perfectly curled for your date tonight. The cute blouse and jeans that fit your hips and ass perfectly was in the hamper. You wore a short, pink silk nightie with matching lacy panties. You recently bought them for tonight and hoped they would work in your favor. You looked beautiful, but why did that not calm your nerves? Why was it not enough?

You felt bad for leaving Ari waiting, and he was so understanding. When you told him you needed to freshen up a bit, he softly kissed your forehead and lips before telling you to do whatever you need to do. It helped quell your anxieties a little, but as you got closer to the impending moment, your anxiety heightened.

You whispered to yourself in the mirror.

You got this! It’s just sex. If it doesn’t work out, it won’t be in the end of the world. You tried to rationalize despite every cell in your brain feeding into irrationality and fear. You hadn’t been this nervous to have sex since your first time, so for you to be an adult and panicking over doing it with your new boyfriend felt extra silly.

It had been a while since your last encounter… a long while. After the end of your only serious relationship, it had been hard to let anyone new in until Ari Levinson waltzed into your life. Even though he was patient, he was persistent. You wanted him, and he wanted you. But you were so scared of being hurt and alone again.

He worked to prove to you that he wouldn’t do that. He showed you that he wanted you, wanted to cherish and take care of you. Pretty soon, you were falling for him and he claimed himself for you. He was waiting for you to do the same, and for Ari, he would wait however long he needed. You were worth it to him.

And so you let Ari Levinson into your life, and you’ve been the happiest you’ve ever been. For the duration of your time together, you and Ari had only made out and cuddled. He spent the night at your place and you at his, but there was no sex. He never pressured you, which you were grateful for, but you were scared to begin. You weren’t the most experienced. The sex you had with your ex was decent, but you didn’t want that. You had desires, some you were scared of sharing with Ari, but you knew you could trust him. He wouldn’t judge you for that, but you were worried. What if you weren’t good enough? What if it was so bad he left you?

Ari didn’t seem like the type to leave you because the sex sucked, but looking at him, you couldn’t help but feel out of his league. He was sex on legs, undeniably handsome. You’ve seen the way women and men alike look at him, hell you look at him the same way. Could you even keep up?

Before you could go further in your spiral, a soft knock brought you back to reality. “Babe, is everything alright in there?”

“Yeah! I’m about to come out!” Holy shit. It was now or never. You fluffed up your hair, quickly gargled some mouthwash, and gave yourself a last minute pep talk. You are a goddess. You got this! If you can survive half the things you have, you can have sex with your boyfriend.

You walked out of bathroom, but instead of inching towards Ari, you leaned against the doorframe, trying to look like the gorgeous actresses from the movies. Ari was laying across your bed, still fully dressed. He licked his lips as he eyed your form, looking like a predator about to devour his prey. Your body warmed under his gaze and a wetness begin to pool in your panties.

“You like?” you ask in a sultry tone. Ari nodded and rose up. He towered over you, and though you hadn’t said it, you loved that his body was bigger than his. His arms traveled up your body before he grabbed your head in his hands and pulled your mouth into his. Immediately, he began to dominate you with his mouth. Your tongue attempted to fight for dominance, but Ari easily overpowered you. You could feel him guide you away from the bed and towards the mirror hanging above your dresser. Before you know it, he abruptly pulls away from you and spins you around to where your back is pressed firmly against his chest and growing bulge.

In the mirror, you see how swollen your lips are. Your face was red with passion and so was Ari’s. He wrapped his arms around your center and began caressing your body. “Honey,” he begins. “Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

“Nothing,” you stutter, failing to hide your true feelings. Despite experiencing the most amazing kiss of your life, your mind was still running a mile a minute. Ari shakes his head, and you immediately tense. “I’m sorry!”

“Baby, your mind has been running a mile a minute since we got back to your place. There’s no need to apologize, but just tell me what’s going on,” he says as he begins to pepper kisses on your shoulder and up your neck. Your eyes roll back slightly as he begins his light assault, but when you’re quiet longer than he cares for, he stops. You whine, and he gives a stern look.

“I’m just… nervous. That’s it,” you tell him. You look down at your freshly pedicured feet. “I just want to be good for you.”

At that moment, Ari grabs your chin and pulls his lips into yours. The kiss is passionate like the one previously, but there’s a tenderness in this. It’s intimate like the ones you have during your late night cuddle sessions, but there’s an underlying hint of desire when you feel him nip at the bottom lip. Your toes curl, and the wetness in between your thighs grows.

“You are always good for me. You’re perfect for me.” He parts from you, turning your chin back to your reflection. “Look at you. I am so lucky you’re my girl.”

Before you can retort his statement, you gives a light slap to your ass, making you jump. “And don’t question it.”

“Ari,” you begin, locking eyes with him in the mirror. “It’s been a while-“

“I know, baby.”

“I wasn’t done.” He smiles at the little fire building inside of you. “And I’m worried about tonight. But if we can, I do want to try some things.” Your timidness returns, and something in Ari blooms.

“We can do whatever you want tonight, baby. Can I you do something for me?” he asks. You nod fervently. “Tell me your favorite way to cum so I can satisfy you the way you deserve.”

The sounds of your and Ari’s blended moans fill the air. You lost track of how many times Ari made you come, but all you know is that you were thoroughly fucked out. He had made you cum with his hands, mouth, and cock so many times. You begged to let him suck you off, but he refused. Tonight was all about you.

“Alright, baby. Can you give me one more?” he asks softly as if he hadn’t tore you apart and used your body all night. He kisses his way up your torso, pressing open mouth kisses on your breasts and neck.

“No, I can’t,” you pant. Ari chuckles at your whines. They were the prettiest sounds he ever heard. “Please, no more.”

“Are you sure, sweetness?” he asks as he strokes his cock. His fingers slip between your folds and tease your entrance. He watches as they attempt to clamp down around nothing. “Because she wants some more.”

Ari lines himself up and slides into your channel. He bottoms you out but freezes, wanting you to feel him everywhere. You squeeze around him and cry out. You knew he was big, but you were shocked that he was able to work himself in. He fit deliciously around you. Ari wraps his arm around your neck, something you had asked excitedly him to do. You learned (and prayed for) that Ari was more dominate in the bedroom. And while he had been able to pull the sweetest sounds from your body and take control, you knew he was holding back from his true form.

“Just cum for me one last time, baby. I know you can do it. Isn’t this what you wanted?” he asks giving you a sly smile. While you had disclosed you wanted to try this with a partner, Ari more than obliged at feeding into your desires. He was more excited than you expected. Despite your pleas, you give a small nod.

He begins working into a steady rhythm, starting slow. Before you know it, his pace quickens. He pulls all the way out before he slams back into you. You cry, nearly yell, out as he begins his brutal, relentless pace. His hold around your neck tightens, and you feel yourself growing slicker.

“My pretty girl,” he says. You preen at his words, loving his praises especially when he has so much control over you. “You have no idea how addicted I am to you. Everything about you.”

He picks up the pace, and his hands move to pick up your legs and change your position. You feel him reaching into you deeper and you know you don’t have much longer until you’re about cum.

“Ari, Ari, Ari!” you cry out. “I’m about to c-cum!”

“Cum for me, baby,” he orders. Your toes curl into the sheets, and you let out a scream as your earth-shattering orgasm washes over you. As Ari fucks you through your high, you feel his pace slow and pretty soon he’s roaring as he cums into you.

When Ari comes down from his high, he sees he fucked you to sleep. He looks down at the mixing of your juices together and smiles. He could never get enough of this. He pulls out softly, missing the feel of you around him. He grabs a towel and cleans you up softly, careful not to wake you even though you whine from the feel through your sleep. Then, he climbs into bed, pulling your smaller body into his chest before pressing a soft kiss to your head and joining you to sleep. You sleep entwined with him, the sounds of your soft breaths lulling him to sleep with a smile on his face that you were his and he was yours.

feedback is much appreciated!

#ct 2024 raffle entry #ari levinson #ari levinson x black reader #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x fem!reader #ari levinson x black!reader #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x you #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans smut

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cheriladycl01 · 3 months

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Could you fic for Fernando Alonso with wife reader? They're on vacation during the winter and she's cold, so she take a water bottle and cradle it. Nando saw it and felt jelly and left out🤭 I don't know if it make sense. Add something else to it if it's not right. Thanks!! :))

Finland Freeze - Fernando Alonso x WifeReader

Plot: Fernando decided to take you on a ski trip, however after testing out the bunny slopes and multiple falls you need to go back to the log cabin for some warmth, however Fernando feels as though he should be that warmth instead!

Credit to the-offside-rule for the GIF

"Come on. It's not that hard!" your husband Fernando laughed from the bottom of the small hill. You look down at him, from up here the slope looked huge.

There was multiple kids going past you, throwing themselves into the activity while you stayed there apprehensively.

"Come on mi amor!" he shouts up to you. You take a few more seconds before starting pushing yourself down the slope on the ski's. You start to speed up and you try leaning into the turn but end up just plopping down into the icy slope. You look up, pulling your goggles up seeing your husband laughing at you with his hands on his knees.

A dad laugh.

You got up quickly rubbing the snow away from your now probably bruised bum. You start up again, taking the turns a little slower and manage to get down to your husband with only 2 more slip ups.

As you neared him, he opened his arms wide as if you were a toddler coming towards him. You however didn't fully slow to a stop, and end up falling in between his legs taking him down with you.

"Offph, I know when i married you I said till death do us part... but your taking that very seriously!" he jokes looking over you before helping you up from the snowy floor.

"Your the one who got me to come to Finland with you! I would have happily spent my winter in Dubai, or Australia!" you comment, pulling him into a hug.

The next few times and he comes down the hill with you, holding your hand and making sure to balance you back out when you start to skid.

After a few more hours, your getting too cold, your cheeks fully red and not enjoying the dropping temperatures. You say that you'll go back to the cabin on the ski resort to warm up while Fernando goes on the big slopes with his personal trainer.

You get in, changing from the damp skiing gear you were sporting and wrapping a dressing gown around you while you shove it all in the washing machine.

You quickly make your way over to the bathroom getting in the warm shower and rinsing of your body, keeping it on a warm temperature to try and warm up the furthest bits of your body.

You stayed there for at least 45 minutes, where you fingers slowly started to resemble prunes. You put on joggers and a hoodie of your husbands and some big fluffy socks. You make you way down to the living area turning the kettle on immediately. You grab the matches and light the wood inside the fireplace that Fernando had put there the previous night when you both realized you'd used most of it up.

Once the kettle has boiled you split the water, most of it going into the pink fluffy hot water bottle you'd conveniently taken with you, even though you'd been told you wouldn't need it. The other goes into making yourself a tea, using the last of the milk you guys had brought for the cup, noting you'd have to go to the little shop on the lodge sight later tonight.

You grab multiple unhealthy snacks that Fernando always held a grudge when he saw you lazing around on the sofa and his cheat day foods in hand on a random Wednesday.

You set yourself up on the sofa under a white fluffy blanket, nesting yourself down in between the large pillows. You hug the hot water bottle and turn on a new crappy rom-com in the Netflix recommended.

Fernando walks in the door, snow in his hair from the growing snow storm outside making you chuckle at his gruff entrance despite his small stature.

He walk over to you and leans down kissing your lips making you recoil away and bury down into your blankets more due to the coldness he brought.

"No kisses?" he asks looking at you with a tilted head and puppy dog eyes.

"You're cold hermoso" you smile shyly, not wanting to be rude but also wanting to keep warm.

"Hmmmm, i'll get changed and then you've got to let me in that bundle of warmth!" he exclaims before crossing over to the bedroom.

He comes back in a pair of shorts and t-shirt the outfit making your eyes widen shocked that he could even possibly be warm in that outfit. He starts to climb into your nest you've created pulling a random wrapper off you and into the little bin behind you both before he starts to undo all your hard work of keeping the warmth in.

"Mmmmm no please!" you complain hugging the water bottle closer trying to keep the warmth.

"I'm hurt mi amor! This bottle is a better source of heat than me? Your husband?" he asks looking over you and you want to nod you really do but his expression makes you just stay still as he starts to pull the blanket away from you. He lays down, re-wrapping the blanket around himself when he pulls your hot water bottle away.

You groan out a complain.

"Mmmm I'm better than this stupid bottle!" he says before snaking his hands up under your hoodie making you shiver and whine from how cold his hands are.

"Fernando!" you gasp when he fully flattens his hands on your back.

"We'll warm up soon" he smiles fully laying on your and hugging your body into his.

"I was warm until you showed up" you sigh starting to play with his hair that was under the blanket so your finger tips didnt get too cold.

Eventually the fire really kicked in and your body heats started to regulate meaning you were both warming each other up nicely now, to the point where you both fell asleep in your little nest of the sofa hugging each other with the soft voices from the next movie that had automatically played on in the back ground.

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso imagine #fernando alonso fanfic #fa14 #fa14 x reader #fa14 imagine

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photmath · 5 months

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NYE Kiss | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: At Trent's New Year's Eve party, he confesses to the reader, his childhood bestfriend, that he's lonely.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: mention of alcohol, angst, miscommuncation, childhood friends, kiss

Note: Happy New Year!

With twenty minutes left until the clock struck midnight, Trent’s brothers, Tyler and Marcel were already setting off fireworks. A couple of Trent’s teammates were also in attendance, and some of the friends you and he shared, but there were still a few valuable ones missing.

Despite Liverpool playing a match the next day, Trent still wanted to do something for New Year's Eve, even if it was a bit risky. But he promised Virgil he would kick everyone out by one in the morning so that they had time to be well-rested for the match, luckily it wasn’t a noon match. Even though he had his brothers, parents, and best mates surrounding him, the night still felt—empty. A bitter taste was left in his mouth as he took a swig of his drink, searching for a solution to his ache.

Trent makes his way over to you, a brown bottle pinched between his fingertips. It’s too dark for you to notice if he’s looking at you, but the pause in his step once his eyes land on you gives you everything you need to know. He stops at the pillar of the canopy, face lighting up with the blast of a firework, “Did the fireworks get too much for you already?”

You purse your lips, shaking your head, “No. I just keep having the recurring thought of one of the ashes falling on my hair and it going up in flames.”

The corner of his lip barely tugged up, “That’s quite an image.”

“It’s very rational,” you defend, tugging the sleeve of your knitted sweater over your hands. Trent was dressed way more casual than you, a black pair of sweatpants and a dark gray hoodie. Had you known him and his brothers would dress like that, then maybe you wouldn’t have nearly lost a finger trying to put yourself into your tight jeans tonight.

A beat of silence washes between the two of you as he decides to stay quiet. He wasn’t usually this quiet when the two of you were with his family, but when he was, he was thinking. So in his head that everything else was irrelevant. It could be a battle trying to ground him back to the present sometimes.

“So, how are you?” you break the silence, sparing a weary glance at him.

“Lonely,” he mumbles. He stays facing the alleyway of Tyler’s home where they light another firework and then scramble away from it.

“Lonely at the top,” you sing, referencing his team’s position at the top of the table. Trent gives you a hard look immediately and you quiet down, averting your eyes from his. “Sorry.” There’s a heavy plate of tension that fills the air between the two of you and despite you both being outside, it feels suffocating. “What’s wrong?”

He shrugs, “Everyone is moving.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone moved, I feel like I’m the only one who stayed,” he says. His voice is soft but aloof, still not giving you a glance. “I just thought you would stay. Was a slap in the face to see that your house was for sale.”

It was your parent’s house, the one you grew up in. You lived on the same street where Trent grew up, only three houses separating your families. After riding your bike down the street and dramatically tripping over the rock that you saw at the last minute, Trent came running out of his house and helped you up. Him and his brothers were playing football in the street, the three of them had just gone inside, but he noticed your sparkling pink bike and got distracted looking back at you. Once he realized a kiss to your scarred knee wasn’t going to make the bleeding stop, he called out for his mom and the three of you walked you and your bike back to that house after she cleaned your knee. Trent had stayed by your side the entire time, assuring you that your knee would be okay in the next couple of days.

The sound of a firework exploding shutters you out of the past, forcing yourself to look at a sullen Trent. His bottom lip is tucked through his teeth as his eyes follow the firework’s path.

“Trent, can you look at me?” Trent slowly looks in your direction and his eyes seem more hurt than he lets on. Much different than the bright eyes that welcomed you two hours ago. You swallow, “Did you think we would live here forever? I mean Jude, Alana, Kai….” You list off the friends and neighbors you both shared who had since then moved away.

He shakes his head, “Obviously not, but you could’ve told me you were moving.”

“I know, we’ve just both been so busy. We barely put up the house for sale a couple of days ago.”

Trent blinks his eyes a couple of times and doesn’t speak immediately.

“I am lonely though,” he confesses and it stabs you right in the heart. “The season has felt really long, haven’t seen you or the lads that much. I know you go to some of my games, but we don’t speak afterward, and I miss you. I miss having people around that aren’t my family.”

“Trent,” you sigh. “I’m sorry for not being there.”

“It’s okay,” he shrugs. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve tried to be there for you either.”

“Trent—”

He cuts you off, “I haven’t had much time either but I dunno…the time I do have at home, it’s so quiet. I’ve been staying at my parents house actually, for the past couple of days because I’ve been sick of the silence. Sure, I could’ve walked to your house but I never did…”

He swallows another swig of his drink, the bitter taste in his mouth had yet to leave. And after chewing on the inside of his cheek for so long, he also tasted copper. He couldn’t blame you for being busy. He knew you had just landed the job you had been working so hard for, at a company that treated you well and respected your work, and with the way Liverpool’s hectic season has been going, he didn’t have much time off either.

You're left with your thoughts screaming at you to say something, but what could you say that would heal his loneliness? That you two could schedule a meet up soon? But it wasn’t concrete, ‘soon’ could be tomorrow, could be a week or before the month ended.

“We should hang out sometime,” you decide. “I’ve missed you too. My schedule is clear for whenever, just let me know.”

He downs the rest of his drink, before tossing it in the bin that Tyler usually has next to the side of the canopy but it’s not there. The bottle goes crashing to the ground but doesn’t break, it rolls off some steps away from him and he ignores it.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, eyebrows raised. You knew he shouldn’t have been drinking the day before his game, even if it was New Year’s Eve.

Trent looks back at you, a tsk leaves his lips, “I’ve only had one.”

“One case?”

“Funny,” he grits, any humor in his tone is gone. “I’m being honest.”

You cross your arms, not realizing you pointing out him drinking would upset him. Yeah, maybe you wouldn’t want to be caught doing something you shouldn't be doing, but Trent had been acting out of character the moment he admitted his loneliness. He was never one to talk about his feelings, always shoving it somewhere down deep that you had given up trying to pry out of him a long time ago because it always upset him more than helped.

“Tell me what’s really wrong,” you demand.

He looks away but you watch his Adam’s apple bob as he glances down to the pavement. The door to the house suddenly bursts open behind you, his mother weaving through you both as if you aren’t standing there.

“Fifteen minutes until midnight!” She announces, and then marches back inside but stops once she notices the two of you, “Oh, you two look so cute. Please, you both can stay in the upstairs bedroom if you get too tired to drive home. I’m sure Tyler won’t mind.”

Her presence seems to break off the tension because Trent lets out a low chuckle, “You know, she always thought it’d be us.”

“Us…what?” You bite the annoyance of him switching the topic away.

“It’d be us,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “That we’d be married and have a kid by now.”

Your eyes bulge at his words. He had to be drunk.

His voice rumbles as he kicks an imaginary rock, “What? Does the idea of starting a family with me repulse you that much?”

“No,” you shake your head frantically, hoping you didn't make him feel more bad than what he was already feeling. If Trent was going to be vulnerable for the last fifteen minutes of the year, then fine, you weren’t going to be petty and let your own feelings get in the way of him being open. You choose your words carefully, “I just—” Screw sparing his feelings. “You’re drunk.”

He rolls his eyes, words spitting out of his mouth in irritation, “It was one drink. One drink does nothing to me other than make me honest. Even then, it wasn’t a high percentage of alcohol.”

Your eyes dance between his dark brown ones. They seem more watery than before, the glow of the light from the inside of the house and fireworks glaring off of them. You look away briefly, “Honest? Like I can ask you any question and you’ll tell the truth?”

“Well,” he shrugs, “I don’t need a drink in me to be honest. I’m always honest to you.”

“That’s a lie,” you remark. “You lied to me when you said I could take your car for a drive.”

He rolls his eyes, “That’s because I value my life.”

You huff, “You didn’t have to be in the car with me, but fine, whatever.” You needed to control any impulsive comment you had. Trent was opening up, this was unchartered territory, and maybe he needed a clean conscience for the New Year more than you did. “I wasn’t repulsed by the idea of starting a family with you, I was just shocked to hear you say that.”

Nothing could’ve prepared you to hear him utter those words. Sure, the two of you shared your first kiss together and took each other’s virginities on the night of your twentieth birthday, but the two of you were never anything more. Never went on a date, never received flowers from him—minus the single daisy he plucked out of the grass one day as an apology for leaving the rock in the middle of the sidewalk—but nothing the two of you did was glaringly romantic. He held your hand for a total of two minutes and fifteen seconds one day underneath the table at a shared family dinner, but nothing came of it either.

He was off focusing on the academy, while you were busy studying in school. Once he did make his first team debut, you were in the stands cheering him on. He felt like the happiest man—boy—that day, having both of your families witness his debut. But still, the bone-crushing hug he pulled you into after you all met in the car park, it meant—nothing.

Even the night you lost your virginity, him as well, it was haste. He was in your bedroom, flipping through the birthday cards you received when you confessed to him that it was comical being a virgin at twenty, feeling the weight of society’s judgment on your shoulders for whatever reason, while he didn’t laugh at all. The liquor you both were sipping on gave you both the courage as you went on, sneakily closing your bedroom door and turning a page. After the both of you came down from your high, he cuddled you for an hour before slipping out of your bedroom window and going home.

Nothing was ever really mentioned after that, the both of you deciding it was best to scrape it under the rug so that it wasn’t awkward at combined family dinners, but there was a feeling. A tingling feeling that made your voice hitch whenever he looked at you or texted you. Any visit you made from uni, your heart did flips when he pulled you into a hug and welcomed you home for that weekend.

He snorts, making your eyes dart to him, “We’re being honest, yeah?”

“I’m telling you the truth,” you say.

He nods, “Okay, I believe you.”

Another moment of silence passes between the two of you and he sighs, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Can I ask you another question?” you mumble and he nods. “Why did your mom think that?”

Trent shrugs for the hundredth time that night, leaning against the pillar as his head rests against it, “Because I told her that I liked you. She said to go for it, I told her I would, but I never did.”

Oh.

“When was this?” you muster up the courage and power to ask, feeling breathless.

He blows a raspberry, “Maybe ten years ago?”

You're glad that Marcel misfires a firework that goes flying towards a tree to the left of the house, earning a commotion from Trent’s family and teammates, so that you have time to wipe off the shock before Trent looks at you.

Trent looks at the tree and holds his breath, hoping it erupts into flames. Perhaps he needed a break in the conversation as well. He felt exposed, too vulnerable at the expense of your curiosity and even though he said he would be honest, he wasn’t sure how much more truth he could give out when you weren’t exchanging much back.

“Why are you leaving?” he blurts out.

“You know I don’t live there right?” your eyebrow rises. Surely you told him you moved. “I moved out when I was twenty-two. I live almost ten minutes away, but my parents are moving because they need the money. After I left, they started spending on stuff that they shouldn’t have, putting us into a lot more debt than we should be. So, I say ‘we’ decided to sell because the only reason they were keeping the house was for me. For what it represented.”

Your childhood. A part of you was heartbroken for what it meant, but the other part of you knew it was the right thing to do. You knew it would serve you and your family well.

Trent eyebrows furrow, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I knew you would’ve wanted to help.”

Trent averts his gaze, “I can. I can buy it.”

“Trent,” you gawk. “Seriously, I’m going to accuse you of being drunk again—”

“It’s your childhood home.”

“Yeah, and I made a choice. It was my choice to make.”

His shoulders deflate, “So you did want to leave?”

You nod, “It was time for a change. They lived there for the past twenty years. A home isn’t a single house anyway.”

“Do they have a place for after it sells?”

The quick glance at the floor reveals the almost lie you would’ve told him, but the two of you agreed to be honest, so you shake your head, “No. They haven’t left the house entirely. They still live there and whatever they make from the sale, they’ll use it to purchase their next.”

“I can buy it,” he states again and you shake your head.

“Trent, you aren’t going to buy my childhood home, drop it,” you spit, voice unwavering as he looks back at you. His jaw is clenched.

“Fine,” he agrees. “But if you have any doubts, I can buy it. I’ll give them whatever double the asking price is—”

“Trent.” You knew he wasn’t going to drop it, he’d most likely ask your parents first thing tomorrow and you didn’t even want to think about what their response would be.

He sighs, “Okay.”

Instead of letting the conversation simmer into silence, you take a deep breath and ask him another question. Here goes nothing: “Why didn’t you ever pursue your feelings?”

Trent rotates his body towards yours, leaning against the column with his shoulder. His hands are still stuffed into the pockets of his sweats. “I was fifteen, I was scared.”

At fifteen, the two of you would’ve already shared your first kiss and held hands underneath the table. You were so giddy, but you weren’t sure if you were giddy at the idea of getting caught or because you had a crush on Trent. The two of you spent so much time growing up together, playing footy, exploring the neighborhood, everything. Tyler would often tag along, and then Marcel as well once he got older, but still you knew you were closer to Trent more.

“And they’ve just gone away?” you ask without a second thought. Your heart lurches as he looks away. What a stupid thing to say!

He coughs, clearing out his throat and your cheeks burn. He looks down at the hem of your sweater, “Would my mother still be trying to play matchmaker if not?”

A squeezing feeling encompasses your chest that you wince. The shock was gone, you were upset now. It had been ten years, you could excuse the first five years because they were hectic with you at uni and him training, but the both of you had sex knowing the feelings were there.

Because no matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t have feelings for Trent, they were always still going to be there. He was the first boy you were really exposed to. The boy you followed throughout the neighborhood despite not knowing anything about him. You wanted to be brave and follow him into the woods. Doing all sorts of things you would’ve never done had he not been by your side. The sweet boy who kissed your knee in hopes of getting you to stop crying held your heart the moment he ran to you.

He watches the way your eyes dart from the fireworks to his family members cheering as they drink a champagne flute. The crease in your eyebrow and nose, he knew you were in deep thought. On a night of too many truths, he was exhausted.

“Just say it,” he whispers. “We’re being honest.”

“You watched me,” you start, voice trembling but teeth grinding, “you watched me get my heartbroken not once, but twice. Gave me all this advice on boys, broke my heart in the process because I thought you didn’t like me back, and then I went on to have two relationships where they were both shit. And you just watched? Knowing you felt something?”

Trent can’t stand to hear the shake in your voice, it itching his ear in a way that makes him tilt his head away from you.

You continue, “I liked you too, a lot. So much that I would sometimes scare myself because I would see my exes as you, even though sometimes it would be months since we last talked. You were always on my mind, and had you said something earlier, all of it,” you wave your arms around to symbolize the time and heartache lapsed. “All of it could’ve been avoided.”

Trent glances down, “I was a coward.”

“No shit,” you yell. Trent abruptly looks at the crowd of people and hopes you don’t catch their attention.

“I wasn’t ready,” he says, truthfully. “I wasn’t ready to give you my all if we had gotten together. I was still finding my footing on the team, all of my focus was on that and wouldn’t have been on you if we were together. Okay,” he relents, “maybe I could’ve spared your heartache had you known, but it just—it wasn’t worth all the drama—”

“Drama?”

He shuts his eyes closed. Think! “It wouldn’t have been worth you getting hurt because I had training. Or I had a game and had to miss something important of yours. I would’ve been physically there but not emotionally present—”

“Do you think I would’ve cared, Trent?” you gape.

He shakes his head, “You wouldn’t, and that’s the problem. You wouldn’t have deserved that. You wouldn’t have deserved me not being present, it would’ve driven us both away. The only times I saw my family were because they came to my game and I met them at their suite. That would’ve been the only time you and I interacted, do you seriously think you would’ve been okay with that?”

No. But you would’ve been content knowing he felt the same. The small moments you saw him would’ve made up for any multi-hour-long day spent with him.

“Like you needed to find yourself at uni and focus on what you were passionate about, I did too,” he says. His voice is much softer and less urgent, knowing that you were understanding and on the same page as him. “But I’m ready now. I’m not saying you have to be ready right now—or maybe you won’t ever be because you don’t have the same feelings you once had—but, I’m here now. I’m as present as I’ll ever be. The season started off fast and will continue to be difficult, but I’ve learned how to be present at home. How to not focus on football and be with my family and pets during my spare time.”

On cue, the rest of Trent’s family—and yours—burst through the back door. There are only a couple of minutes until midnight, those fifteen minutes blew right past the both of you. Tyler and Marcel had stopped popping fireworks as they compiled a bunch together to be ignited exactly at twelve.

Trent looks at you, pulling your hand so that you’re closer to him near the pillar as your family members stampede outside, settling in lawn chairs and anywhere on the floor. Trent hasn’t dropped your hand yet. He caresses the backside of your hand with his thumb as his fingers squeeze tighter around yours.

“I know I was a coward, I know I could’ve said it anytime you were around, but it was never the right time,” he whispers in your ear. “We were busy, our lives never aligned perfectly, and maybe they don’t align right now either, but I’m willing to take the risk.”

A breathy sigh escapes you as you soak in his words. You close your eyes as you lean the side of your head against his chest. You needed to be grounded as you thought, and he was always someone stable. His hands don’t wrap you into a hug because he knows exactly what you’re doing.

“I still like you,” you acknowledge. “I’m a little upset you kept this a secret.” He snorts. “But, if I’m being honest, I’m not sure when I would’ve bursted and confessed the same thing. I wanted to tell you that we were moving, especially whenever we were thinking about it when it was first brought up, but I stopped myself. I was scared, because I knew my first instinct to reach out to you meant that it was something more, that I saw you as someone more than just my friend. That I always have. Every failed relationship was a reminder of it.”

Trent chuckles, finally being able to breathe. The tightening feeling in his chest had dissipated, replaced with jittery nerves as he restrained himself from pulling you into a hug.

You drop Trent’s hand and face him. If he was confused, he hid it well.

“I’m willing to take the risk too,” you state, the heavy weight on your shoulders dissolving. “I’m trusting you, just like I trusted you the day I followed you into the woods.”

“We ended up getting lost,” he recalls. He isn’t sure how much longer he can keep his hands off of you.

“I know,” you smile. “But I trusted you still, despite being so scared. I knew you would keep your promise and get us out of there before the moon rose. I’m willing to get lost with you, wherever you are, I want to be there.”

“You trust me?” he cheeses, his lips breaking out further into a grin. A chorus of a ten-second countdown breaks out in the background.

“Of course, stupid,” you smack his bicep and the brief contact makes the both of you hold a breath.

Trent knew he couldn’t get the smile off of his face no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t expect to have this conversation with you tonight, but after seeing you underneath the canopy, your clothes and figure lighting up from the colorful lights of the fireworks, he knew he couldn’t let you walk away from him again. You didn’t even hold his heart in the palm of your hands, you held it in your gaze. One look at him from you and he was floored, a weak and desperate man on his knees begging for your attention.

“…three, two, one, Happy New Year!”

Your blissful eyes combined with his gleeful ones don’t look away as you both lean closer. Your hands stay tucked by your side, his suddenly not wanting to move either as he leans down. The moment your nose grazes his, you close your eyes and let him kiss you. You press your lips further into his as the sound of fireworks go off behind you.

The kiss feels like the first one you shared together, tentative but passionate. It feels like a new promise, one full of commitment for the year to come. A promise from him that he’ll be there for every second of the day, and you a promise to be present as well. To not make him feel like he needs to bottle up his emotions and wait until the last minute to confess them.

His hands find your cheeks at the same time you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls away and sighs against your lips, resting his forehead against yours. “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

“Happy New Year,” you smile, pecking his lips one more time before burying your head into his chest. He pulls you in for a bone-crushing hug, squeezing your shoulders tightly against him and then resting his head on top of yours.

Instead of letting you close your eyes to soak in the feelings of him being this close in your arms, he shuffles the both of you and points up, “Look up.”

His careful gaze looks down at you as he double checks that you’re actually looking up at the fireworks, but he bursts into a nervous laugh when he sees you looking back at him. You can feel his heart quicken its pace as he stutters, “No, not me. The sky!”

“You’re so happy,” you whisper. Earlier his eyes were on the verge of breaking down, but now, they seem so full of light and hope.

“Yeah,” he slips his hand back around your waist. “I got the girl of my dreams in my arms, my girl.” He enunciates the last two words like they’re a testimony.

Your cheeks rush with heat that you’re glad he can’t feel them. He leaves a chaste kiss on your temple before looking back up at the fireworks. And then he glances down suddenly, “Do you remember when we made that fort in my living room?”

You burst into a laugh, pulling away from his chest, “What?”

“The fort,” he repeats, “it ended up crumbling because Marcel rolled too far and pulled the blankets down—you remember?”

You nod, bewildered by his sudden excitement.

“Well, the spare bedroom of Tyler’s only has a mattress on the floor, but there are some chairs and sofas we can combine to you know,” he lets his voice fade away.

“You have a game tomorrow, maybe you shouldn’t be sleeping on the floor.”

“It’s a new mattress! That’s why it has nothing else,” he laughs. His laugh is intoxicating that all your logic and usual bickering dies out. He could build the fort, you’d be right there helping him either way.

Your heart swells as his eyes go wide, his face glowing red. He taps your waist, “Look, look look.”

The red firework that just popped erupts into the shape of a heart. You smile, standing on your tippy toes to give him a kiss. To think you’ve been missing this for the past twenty years that you’ve known him. What a fool the both of you were.

That night, Trent holds his promise as you help him build the fort around the mattress. You steal a lantern from Tyler’s shed outside while Trent found blankets to use and old moving boxes. It isn’t an exact replica like the two of you first shared, but it’s quite close, only this time you two are wrapped in each other’s arms.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x you #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold imagine #em.writes

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st4rychnine · 2 months

Text

Cheating Spree ★ Suguru Geto

mature content!

you can't feel anything anymore; the rain seems to have washed everything away. it soaks through your clothes, chilling you down to the bone, yet you don't care, you can't. you're done caring, you're tired.

you sigh, finally pausing your long walk to look up at the darkened sky, pouring rain as if it was weeping for you.

then you realize. you're in front of gojo and geto's shared apartment. you gasp, sigh, and think… this was as good a time as any. despite the fact that you're literally a dripping wet mess, you're going to break up with satoru.

when you ring the doorbell, it's suguru that answers.

at a hulking five foot eleven, bulging muscles, obsidian eyes, and unending miles of dark hair, you swear on your life that suguru geto is the most attractive man you'd ever seen. and here he was, standing before you in nothing more than grey sweatpants.

"you alright? why're you standing in the rain like that; wanna come in?" his voice is low, husky, sexy. you stammer while trying to answer.

"I– is…" you swallow, clear your throat. "Is satoru home? There's… something I'd like to… talk to him about. briefly." it takes everything in you to keep your eyes trained on his.

oh man. when you say the man was built like a Greek God, you meant it. but it was an awful time to thirst over your ex's best friend. even though he was leaning against the door frame without a single care in the world. even though you could clearly see that sexy trail of hair, stretching all the way from his lower abdomen and disappearing into his sweatpants.

holy fuck.

suguru hums and meets your eyes, amusement dancing in the obsidian depths. then he shakes his head. "nah, I should be asking you that though. earlier, he told me that he was going on some bar date with you, so. unless…” then it dawns on him.

you thought you were behind feelings, but you couldn't stop the small twinge of pain in your chest that your boyfriend was away screwing other girls and lying to his best friend that he was out with you.

it sucked.

you blink at the news, then sigh, resigned. "alright. I'll… be on my way then."

just as you turn around, ready to leave, he stops you with a call of your name. "I don't think you should be out in this weather. come on in. you can stay the night."

you don't have the strength to disagree.

in about fifteen minutes, you've settled on the couch in one of suguru's old shirts, swathed in blankets with a cup of steaming coffee warming your hands.

suguru's at the kitchen counter, whipping up something small for himself.

the coffee doesn't do it for you. you need something stronger; something to make you forget. "geto? do you happen to have any alcohol on you?”

“uh… I think so. should be somewhere,” he says, opening and closing a few cupboards until he hits the jackpot. he gets out a tall bottle, tinted a dark black, and pops it open. he pours the contents into two glasses, then turns around, hands you one filled with a bromine-coloured liquid.

you accept it gratefully, downing half the glass in a single gulp.

it's liquid fire, leaving you wincing as it slides down your throat. liquid fire, but it tasted lovely. it had an orange-like flavour with a slightly bitter undertone. "it's nice." you say, and it's true.

suguru smiles. "I know – it's our most expensive." he takes a sip of his drink. “you can sleep in Satoru's room. I don't think he'll be returning tonight.”

you shake your head, a pang striking your chest. “I'd rather sleep on the sofa.” you say matter-of-factly.

he hums in response. “you can take my bed then. i’ll take the sofa.”

again, you shake your head, insisting on the sofa. the last thing you wanted to do was to make the poor guy uncomfortable. he's already being such a darling, helping out a brokenhearted girl. you didn't want to inconvenience him any further.

but that's technically what you end up doing because he insists, and you're unable to argue. you down the rest of your drink and hold out your glass for another.

while refilling the glass, Suguru asks, “so… do you want to watch a movie?”

you don't say no.

you end up watching some stupid fucking horror movie, which left you practically trembling against suguru, covering your face and peeking between your fingers.

you hadn't expected it to be this scary. it was a movie that had always been on your to-watch list, and now, you absolutely regret choosing it. it's interesting, but definitely won't leave you with peace of mind for the next few days.

“sorry…” you murmur, voice pitched high and slurred from the alcohol. “I don't do well with horror movies.”

suguru laughs, eyes glued to the screen. “why’d you pick it, then?”

“I don't knowwwww!” you cry, flinching at a scene and covering your eyes. God knows you might share suguru’s bed with him tonight. no, not in that way. “i didn't know it was this scary!”

“it's not even that scary,” he says, still chuckling.

“yeah, maybe to you! we're sharing your bed!” you cling onto his arm, burying your face in his shirt.

“really?” he smirks, and your face burns at the implied meaning. “fine, but you've gotta watch it.”

you shake your head, no.

“please?” suguru asks, trying to pry your hands away from your face. they don't budge. “aw, come on! its only fun if we watch it together!”

“I'm not here to have fun!”

“but you should, regardless of your purpose.” he tries to pry your fingers away from your face, and finally, you give in.

the rest of the movie is spent with you clutching at Suguru for a dear life and screaming, especially when unnecessary.

by the time the movie is over you're a mess, laughing with tears running down your face. “ne– never again!” you half-sob.

he pats your head. “don't worry, you did good. at least you enjoyed it, yeah?”

you sniff and turn away.

he calls your name. twice. you refuse to answer though, feigning mock anger. although he probably deserves it genuine after forcing you to watch that stupid fucking movie. its your fault though, technically. you shrug and scoff.

Suguru decides in that moment. he's going to fuck you. being honest, he's always wanted to. and now, he's got a chance. he'll take it. oh and, he wanted to piss satoru off. it was well deserved. so once more, he calls you.

you turn to him, pupils blown wide in the reflected television light, lips wet. damn, he wanted those around his cock.

he shifts closer to you; your lips are almost touching. you have no idea when the energy around the two of you changed.

"you want revenge on Satoru, yeah? well, I've got a plan." he mummurs huskily, his lips brushing yours.

"wh– what is it?"

"let me fuck you." then he smashes his lips on yours.

the kiss is unlike anything you've ever experienced before – with satoru or otherwise – and, oh boy, you loved it. your lips are pried open, your tongue dancing with his in the most sloppy, lewd kiss you've ever partaken in.

you know it's wrong. I mean– you're technically cheating on your boyfriend, aren't you?

but even as the thought crosses your mind, you push it away.

tit for tat.

his hands grip your waist, pulling you even closer to him as the kiss gets even filthier and filthier, then the two of you pull away.

you're left panting and gasping for breath and suguru, well, looks otherwise unaffected. but the growing erection in his grey sweatpants states otherwise.

"you accept?" you swear his voice grows an octave deeper.

you need him so bad. "ye– yes…" you whisper. "yes sir."

his thumb strokes your cheek, and he presses another kiss to your lips. "I want you to suck my cock for me. would you do that?” he whispers against them. you nod.

your heart beats furiously, head dizzy as you find yourself on your knees. you feel like you're dreaming.

if you are, then it's a good one.

suguru loosens the ropes on his sweatpants and pulls the front down, just enough for his boner to pop out.

it's longer and thicker than anything you've ever seen; not that you'd seen that many anyway. but still. it's length was tremendous – you'd roughly estimated about ten inches, his girth about thee.

all in all, you don't think it'll fit. in your mouth or otherwise.

"you're staring like you're seeing something extraordinary.” suguru smiles

you're about to dish out a mildly disturbed ‘because it is!’ but you hold your tongue and give the tip an experimental lick to stop him, from saying anything else.

then you take a big breath and wet it with your saliva before taking the thing into your mouth.

the thing is monstrous, the head barely fitting past your lips. you try as possible to keep your teeth away from it, opening your mouth wider than comfortable. tears bead in your eyes, trickling down your cheeks.

you get the head, then the first few inches. you try to work your tongue around it as much as possible; if there was any one thing you learned while with satoru, tongue action was key.

you're less than halfway – about three inches in – and the tip was already poking the back of your throat. you have no idea what to do except keep going. so you take the next two inches.

the wet suckling noises you make, the tears that stream down your cheeks – they turn suguru on even more, his cock twitching in your mouth. he's literally a grown man, but watching you struggle to get down the sheer length and girth of him is doing things to him. he's a grown man, but he's about to blow his load already. it takes everything in him not to. "fuck– you're doing quite good. you've got a bit more to go."

that certainly gets you going. you squeeze your eyes shut and swallow around him, willing yourself to not choke. you swallow down the next three, whimpering lowly around him. tears prickle at your eyes and trail down your cheeks.

"almost there. come on. thats my girl – fu– yeah?" suguru's voice is audibly strained, his fingers clutching your hair. oh man, he's about to lose it.

you force yourself down on the last two, your nose finally pressed against his pubes. you tremble, forcing yourself to not choke around it's girth.

you did it! but at what cost?

you open your eyes, looking up at him though your lashes. My guy looks like a Greek god; long black hair sticking to his forehead and the sides of his face and his neck, thick brows furrowed, dark black eyes endless and glossy, and god, he's so fucking fine.

you're dripping through your underwear.

he calls your name in what is almost a moan, gripping your hair in a fist. "shit – fuck, don't look at me like that–"

you hum through a mouthful of dick then shrug. like what?

maintaining eye contact, you pull your head backward, almost choking as his length retracts from your throat. you pull back halfway, then go down again, swallowing the half-length.

you continue the movements, – retract, then swallow – slow and jerky at first, but eventually, you begin to build a steady pace.

saliva and precum leak out of your mouth, coating his cock with a transparent sheen and suguru groans above you, hands gripping your face as his hips fuck subtly into your mouth.

a mild, salty taste builds at the back of your throat as his precum leaks from the tip of his dick. you use your tongue to pleasure him as much as possible, your jaw aching.

“fuuuuck– agh– shit, that feels good. fuck–” suguru grunts and slips his cock out of your mouth, wetting your cheeks with a mixture of saliva and precum, and smearing your tears.

“wh–” you begin, voice cracking. you clear your throat and start again. “what's wrong?”

“fuck, I'm… if you keep that up, I'm gonna cum.” suguru whispers through breathy pants.

he's so pretty, you stare for a bit before answering. “that's fine. if you don't cum down my throat, where will you cum?” the alcohol in your blood makes you bolder than usual.

he makes a sound deep in his throat and slips his cock back into your mouth, gripping the sides of your head and making you take the whole thing fully.

“I'm… I'm gonna fuck your mouth,” he mumbles, strands of dark hair falling over his eyes. slowly, his hips fuck his cock into your mouth, in and out, smearing precum around inside your mouth.

he gasps lowly with each thrust he makes into your mouth, abdominal muscles tensing as he does so. his eyes are half-lidded, cheeks damp with sweat.

as the pleasure builds, his hips increase their pace, until his cock is entering and exiting your mouth so fast, you're almost gagging around him. his gasps turn to small groans, his fingers gripping your hair tighter to slam your face into his pubes with each upward thrust he makes.

you can feel how close he is – his cock dripping and twitching in your mouth. you need him to cum, before your jaw cracks open and falls to the floor. so you suck in your cheeks even more, creating a strong vacuum that, from experience, would make Satoru spill instantly.

it works it's intended effect.

"holy fucking shii–t.” he takes extra care in pronouncing the t. “fuck, keep that up. fuck, im cumming.” he warns, and that, he does.

ropes and ropes of hot salt spill into your mouth, down your throat. you almost choke, try to pull away, but suguru holds you there, letting his cum flow down your throat. it's salty and thick, and more of an acquired taste if anything, but its not completely awful.

Suguru groans deep in his throat with each spurt of him down your throat, his head tilted back, thick hair cascading down his back and sticking to his skin in some places with sweat. his eyes are half closed, cheeks flushed, and jaw locked tight to keep himself from moaning. though your tears, you still can't get over how absolutely beautiful he was.

he holds you there for a good minute, his cum never stopping its flow until it does, and you drag your head back, pulling him out of your mouth.

you cough, splutter. some of his cum exits through your nose and you wince.

“fu–fuck." suguru pants, chest heaving. “fuck, you're an expert.”

you smile at that. “thanks,” you whisper, voice hoarse.

your skin is flushed, eyes dark and unfocused, a trickle of cum dripping down your jaw. you looked absolutely delectable. suguru could just eat you up.

and he decides he will – you need some loosening up anyways.

he picks you up, biceps bulging, and you squeal as he all but flings you on the sofa.

before you can think, he's on top of you, lips back on yours, tongue entwined with his. a small moan escapes you, and he groans into your mouth, lips trailing down to your jaw, then your neck.

“g– get– sugu–ahh! fu–uuh–ck!”

his teeth attack the skin, tongue lapping the fresh bruises as they appear. you know they'll turn an angry colour tomorrow but you can't care. you need him.

his palms trail up the shirt, skimming over your thighs then higher. higher, until–

his thumb brushes your clit and you jolt, body tending under his.

"you're dripping" he mumbles, pushing a thick digit inside you. "just from sucking my dick? fuck."

you whimper in response.

suguru fucks you with that single finger, pumping it in and out if your drenched pussy. the steady build of pleasure has your legs almost locking around suguru's forearms.

he adds another finger. That stretches you a bit, and you grit your teeth at the barely-there but still-existent pain. more pumping. the build of pleasure, but faster this time, more intense. your hear the slick, squelching sounds of his fingers in your pussy, and you blush.

his lips are back on yours again, just as insistent. he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth and you gasp as he presses his fingers into you harder, thumb working lazy circles on your clit. you squirm.

"ooh, you like that?" suguru grins. you don't answer, biting your lips to keep back moans. he clicks his tongue. “no, baby, don't keep those precious sounds from me, yeah? come on, good girl.” he whispers huskily into your ear, suddenly curling his finger into you and hitting a spot that makes you see stars.

you yelp, back arching off the sofa, a strangled moan being forced out of your throat.

"ooh! that's it. I need more from you. can you do that?" he doesn't wait for your response. insistently, his fingers curl inside you, massaging that perfect spot deep inside you and, fuck, you can't help the moans and gasps that tumble out of your lips without permission.

you can't help how good it feels, his fingers stretching you open, slick dripping around his fingers. can't help but think how exquisite it would feel if they were his cock instead.

you squeeze your eyes shut, back arching against the sofa, with suguru very steadily leading you towards the delicious edge of an orgasm.

“fuck– mmmph! geto, I– ahh!” it hits you like a train. your back arches of the sofa, eyes rolling back in your head from the absolute pleasure. your legs tremble. cunt twitching around his fingers and you try your hardest not to scream.

the pleasure was brain numbing; better than anything that you've ever felt, leaving your body spent and sagging into the sofa, eyes barely able to focus on his lovely face.

it takes every bit of suguru’s self control not to fuck you senseless right then, to lose himself in your tight cunt. instead, he presses his lips on yours, lazily exchanging saliva, and kisses down your body – to your navel, and then–

you jolt, a curse ripping through your throat as a hot, open mouthed kiss is placed on your clit. it startles you, but suguru doesn't give any time to recover, licking and sucking at the little nub like his life depends on it.

“does that feel good? tell me.” suguru murmurs into your skin.

unable to form words you moan, running fingers through his thick, black hair.

“Delicious…” suguru murmurs into the moist flesh, the vibrations going straight to your clit. you almost scream.

suguru geto eats pussy like an expert, his tongue worming his way into you, slurping up your juices wetly like he'd been dehydrated for months. he licks flat-tongued stripes up your clit before sucking it into his mouth, basically playing with it on his tongue.

you're losing it, fingers raking through his dark hair, pressing him into you, legs wrapped tight around his head. you're close; you can practically taste it at this point, with your thigh muscles contracting, stomach clenching. and then–

white.

white and static and the most overwhelming flood of pleasure you've ever felt. it rolls over you in thick, heavy waves, weighing you down and making you practically seize.

you don't know how long it takes for you to come to your senses.

by the time you do though, you're at the cusp of another orgasm, suguru still working his ministrations on your clit.

you scream at him to stop. it's too much; you're too sensitive!

your pleas, however, fall on very deaf ears. he doesn't stop, gripping your hips to keep you in place while he continues. he rolls the tender nub around his tongue like he would a lollipop, and, once more, you're seizing on his tongue.

you black out for longer this time. when you come to, you find suguru looking at you with a mix of fascination and awe, his dark eyes glossy with arousal. his entire upper body is drenched, either with sweat or... something else. it's like someone threw a bucket of water at him.

“more.” he groans, voice husky. “give me more of that.”

before you stutter out denial, his lips are back on your lower ones, tongue-fucking you into ecstasy.

from that point on, you lose track of the number of orgasms you've had that night. all you know is that it was definitely not in the single digits. but the time suguru is done making a meal out of you, you, the couch and suguru are drenched with your bodily fluids. you're also a senseless mess, body still trembling, overstimulated.

suguru kisses up your abdomen, tongue lingering on your nipples before he finally comes up to kiss your forehead.

“I need to- I need to fuck you. you'll let me, won't you?” he questions pleadingly, grinding his erection against your cunt. “pl– fuck– please, I can't go to bed like this.” his eyes are soft, pleading and begging for you. and, fuck, you can't deny him.

suguru wonders why he all of a sudden can't control himself around you. why all he can think about is bottoming out in your warm cunt. it's obviously not the first time he's doing this, definitely not the last… but his cock is the hardest it's ever been, his heart thumping against his ribcage. he chalks it up to the excitement of fucking his best friend's (ex) girlfriend. or maybe the alcohol, though he wasn't one to let something like that affect his judgment.

but fuck it, whatever. the two of you have gone past the point of no return.

“that's my girl.” he smiles, placing another kiss on your forehead. and then your cheek

you feel the tip of him pressed against you. grunting, he tries to push it in, only for it to slip against your wetness, nudging against your clit.

you whimper at the feeling, heart pounding in your chest.

again, he tries pushing his tip inside you, this time guided by a hand against his pulsing member. it slips inside you with ease and you both moan at the intrusion.

for you, the pleasure is spiked with pain as his fat cock splits you open at the seams, threatening to unravel you. you hiss and whimper at each inch sliding into you, your pussy pushing him out with each contraction around his dick.

“sh- fuck, you're so fucking tight.” he says through gritted teeth, physical exertion making his muscles tense. “you've gotta loosen up, or i might not pull out in time.”

silently, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you and at the same time making him bottom out. the tip of his cock hits the opening of your cervix and you yelp, pleasure and pain mixing into a hot brew in your stomach and tightening into a cord.

“...the fuck did that come from?” he groans, voice tight. he rocks his hips into you, gripping your waist tight and hissing.

you shake your head, unknowing. all you do know is that you need him. right now, as deep inside you as he can go.

had his patience not been worn thin, suguru would have asked you to voice your thoughts. how did it feel? did it hurt? fast or slow? but his cock is so hard and your pussy so tight, his cock might have an aneurysm. he can't even form words to begin with. so he starts with an experimental pace, slow and steady, rocking into you and splitting you open.

you whine and gasp each time he fully bottoms out into you, the tip of his cock just barely grazing your cervix. the slow pace is exquisite, but you need more. in your current state, you wont accept anything else.

“f– faster, please…” you whine. “harder,”

without hesitation, suguru obliges. for fear of breaking you beyond repair, suguru had started out with a slow, steady pace. however, it seems you didn't want that. and he was grateful. he wasn't sure how much longer he could keep yourself from fucking your pretty pussy senseless.

he does that, hips picking up their pace absolutely fucking the life out of you. the pace he sets makes his hips a blur, his dick reaching places you never knew existed.

“fuck, you like that? yeah?”

yeah, you nod as tears spill from your eyes, moans morphing to heavy sobs as the pleasure and slight pain build, heightening to a peak. the cord in your stomach is pulled ridiculously tight, your breathing ragged.

“fv– fucking– unnghhhhh – ahhhhh—” you say, or rather, try to. it doesn't work out – clearly – your words fucked out of your mouth just as they spill from your lips.

“trying to say something?” suguru grunts out.

a particularly hard thrust has your barely that there thoughts skittering into nothing with a sharp yelp, back arching off the sofa as you brush dangerously close to your orgasm.

“fuck!–nnn–g–h... fuck– n– m’... m’ gonna cum… shit–” you mumble, eyes rolling back, in your head. your cunt traps suguru in a vice-like grip, your overflowing lubrication the only reason he's able of move properly. he grunts, smashing his lips onto yours and swallowing the sounds coming out of your mouth.

good lord, it feels good. better than anything you've ever had, ever -felt. and holy fuck, you're going to cum. cum yourself unconscious, if you will. it's dangerously close, and you can feel it, creeping up to you, making the edges of your body tingle. it's scary, but feels so good.

“go ahead, doll. come for me, yeah? drench this cock with you.” suguru murmurs in your ear, and suddenly, the orgasm takes hold of you, slamming into you with such force, your back arches violently into suguru’s hold. the cord in your tummy snaps and a scream rips through your throat with the sheer force of the pleasure, and white overtakes your vision before it fades to black.

suguru fucks you through your orgasm, threatening to do you through another. your whole body feels like an exposed nerve, and you don't think you've ever felt as close to death as you do now.

your cunt flutters around his cock, and he hisses as his hold on your hip tightens. fuck, you feel like heaven, your cunt so tight, so wet, so, fucking perfect around him. each time he drags himself out of you, the suction draws him back in, and once he's in, you try to push him back out again. he can't explain why, but that feeling is positively exquisite, and God, he loves it.

“fuck!” he exclaims, face buried in your neck. “fuck, im cumming. fuck, I'm– you’ve… you've gotta tell me where you want it.”

you don't need to think much about the answer. inebriated and incredibly horny, a single word comes to mind. “inside– nnngh!” you breathe, your legs weakly tightening around his waist, drawing him closer to you.

“al– hah!– alright. I'm gonna fuckin’... hah, fuck!” he didn't get to complete his sentence, his muscles stretching taut as a white heat spills inside you.

it's enough to send fireworks exploding behind your tightly closed eyes, your orgasm lighting your body on fire with his cum as the catalyst.

“fuck, ahhhh– you feel so fucking good, hah–” suguru groans as he pours himself into you, teeth clamping down on your shoulder and making you scream.

he finds his hips rocking into yours once more, fucking you through the aftershocks and overstimulation of both your orgasms.

you shake your head, no. no, no, no more, no! you can't cum any more than you have already or you might die. you shake your head as vigorously as you can, the choked out moans tumbling from your mouth neutralizing your denial.

“fuck, im sorry. one more, yeah? one more, just one more, please,” Suguru whispers breathily into your hair, voice trembling from the pleasure. he can barely breathe, his breath catching his lungs from how good he feels and fuck, its not long before another orgasm creeps up on him, looming over him like a disaster.

and he will be one by the time this is over, he's sure. “fuck, yo– you're g'nna make me cum- again, shit–”

me too. you think just as you black out for good, chased to unconsciousness by a spill of heat.

☆

you're woken up by a sharp pain in your lower abdomen as you try to change position. you groan, eyes fluttering open, and you find that those hurt too. every single inch of your body hurts, some minor, some major, but it kind of feels like you got into mini car accident. God, and you had an awful sore throat.

at the feel of sheets on your once bare skin, you sit up, realizing that you’re no longer on the couch.

judging from the scent of the room, or the lack thereof, you guess that you’re in suguru’s room. though the sliver of light though the curtains, you can see that it's organised perfectly.

groaning, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, trying your best to maintain balance, ignoring the burn of your inner thigh and abdominal muscles, then you walk out of the room, to the kitchen.

the room is an assault of light to your poor eyes and you wince, squinting. vaguely, you can see Suguru standing in front of the kitchen stove. whatever he’s cooking up smells pretty good.

“hi, Suguru.” you say, smiling, walking towards him. the warmth in your face freezes as your eyes catch another person in the room. Gojo. he's sitting on a chair by the kitchen island, typing away at his phone. “hi Satoru.”

he looks up, startled, then confused at your dishevelled appearance. you’d forgotten you wouldn't look the best after last night. “oh. I didn't know you were here.” he says.

“she stopped by last night. good morning.” suguru smiles back at you, handing you a plate of food. “you'll find some painkillers on the side table in my room. you'll probably need them after last night. and tea for your throat.” he says and you blush at the memory and nod.

Gojo watches the exchange silently, a pale white brow cocked. “what happened last night?” he questions and Suguru throws him what might have been a glare.

in response to Satoru's question, you shrug. “uh, nothing. I stopped by in the rain and asked for some alcohol to keep warm. I ended up taking a bit too much.” you pop a piece of bacon in your mouth.

“and that explains the bruises on your neck?” he asks and you freeze, heart thumping. then you swallow, making yourself remember that Gojo was also a shitty cheater. it cancels out.

“yeah.”

he coughs out a laugh, bright blue eyes hardening to sapphires. “bullshit.” he says and turns to suguru. “did you fuck her?”

he shrugs, turning off the stove and sliding a plate of food towards gojo.

“what the fuck, Suguru? why would you do that?” he yells, face paling. “you're my fucking best friend, why the fuck would you fuck my girlfriend?”

“ex girlfriend.” you step in instead, voice bleeding with anger and that shuts Gojo up. “sorry, I forgot you were the only one who could cheat.”

satoru, about to open a drawer to pick up a fork, pauses and turns to look at you with an unreadable expression.

“you thought I wouldn't figure it out? you're very bad at keeping secrets.” another peice of bacon in your mouth. suguru hands you a cup of lemon tea. “I actually stopped by yesterday to break up with you. but it seems you'd told your roommate you'd be out with me. why? when you'd told me that you'd be at home having a games night with suguru.”

“that was the plan, but I stepped out.” gojo says, the ice in his eyes reflecting in his voice.

you flinch, but hold your ground. “stepped out for the whole night?”

“I got caught in the rain.”

“which stopped before I went to bed.”

a rushed breath of air leaves Suguru's mouth as laughter. you roll your eyes. “more like blacked out.” he says under his breath. Gojo's eyes dart to him, then you.

“I… stayed over at a friend's house.” he says carefully.

“which friend?”

he pauses, eyes cloudy with thought. “...you won't know them.”

“we share friendship circles. whoever I haven't met, at least I've heard of.” you drum a nail on the table, patience wearing to the width of papyrus paper. he's wasting time with his lies.

“she's–” he starts, and catches himself. your eyes narrow. “they're not from our circle. I met them at a party. I don't have to tell you about every single person I befriend.”

“befriend and fuck.”

“I didn't fuck her!” Gojo slams his hand on the table in outrage.

“the used condom back at my apartment. was that me? did I use that? the cum stains on my bed–” you scrunch up your face in disgust. “--that was me, right? I grew a dick overnight. stop lying, it doesn't suit you.”

he doesn't have anything to say in return and neither do you. “I'm breaking up with you.”

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

Text

A Little More | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: hiiiii! uh so this is connected to tonight, tonight, tonight and dear winter, and this was sort of inspired by never grow up by taylor swift. 🤍 also, the constant support really makes me want to just write domestic simon. like, a lot. it’s great.

warnings: mentions of nationality (americans do suck but you’re great!), babies, children… arguing

summary: It’s Simon’s first late night and morning with his new daughter, Mellie. And you and him have an important conversation.

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!

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When the baby monitor began to sound with cries of his new daughter, Simon had woken up. He rubbed his eye with one of his hands while the other reached for the monitor on his nightstand. He had moved it from yours last night after you had fallen asleep.

He turned it down so you could barely even hear it and settled the monitor back on his nightstand - he silently sat up. He blinked away what little sleep he got and pulled off the warm comforter, standing up. He turned back and looked at you, a pang of guilt ran through his chest before he pulled the comforter back into place. You had fallen asleep on his chest, and now you were curled into a ball in the middle of the mattress, facing his side. He wanted to lean down and kiss your cheek, but his baby was crying.

He made his way out of the bedroom and down the hall, passing his office and Winnie’s room to the room closest to the staircase. He could clearly hear Mellie crying now, so he quietly opened the door. He walked over to the white crib and gazed at her. Her little eyes were screwed shut and her cries broke his cold heart before he gently picked up his new daughter, placing her against his bare chest. One hand held her head and the other held her back, he was still amazed at how big he was compared to this little creature.

“Hello, my little love.” He whispered as he leaned down and kissed her little head, smelling the soap you had washed her with earlier. He checked the little one’s nappy, seeing that she didn’t need changed. He moved across the room to the comfy rocking chair you had gotten and settled on it, Mellie’s cries had gotten softer as he began to gently rock. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for ya to know me before you were born. Sorry I wasn’t here when you were born, someone’s gotta pay the bills.” He chuckled lightly, still gazing down at the baby with short hair that looks just like yours. If he gazed at her face a little more, he would’ve noticed that his daughter had his eyes, his ears. He would learn days later that she had his smile.

His thumb drew circles on the crown of the baby’s head and her cries mellowed out to little mewls, her cheek rested on his collarbone.

“You’re going to grow up strong like me ‘n amazing like your mum,” He promised her, kissing her head again. “You’re going to love your sister, even though sometimes you’ll fight with her. Hell, I know you’ll fight with me one day.”

The baby cooed in response, as if she was listening.

“Always love your mum,” He whispered, head then leaning back to stare at the door. “You don’t have to love me, Melody. But it’ll be a cold day in Hell if I ever stop loving you. And you have to love your sister, I know that she probably loves you more than she does me now.” He chuckled a little, gently patting Mellie’s back before continuing. “You’re going to be as smart ‘n as beautiful as your mum, as careful as me. And you’ll love all your uncles, Price the most since Winnie does.“ He closed his eyes then, using his right leg to gently rock the chair. “You’ll be loved, no matter what. And I can’t wait to watch you grow, my little love.”

Mellie’s cries had finally stopped, all of her little sounds had as well - he could feel her tiny breath against his skin while he kept rocking the chair, feeling slumber tug at his head.

“You’ll be my little girl forever, no matter if we drift apart. I will always protect you, never let anyone hurt you. All I want is for you to never grow up.” His hands stopped moving, still keeping his child against him while he murmured, “I want you to stay little forever, I can’t stand watching my Winnie grow. You’ll always be my baby, Mellie. And I love you.” Simon leaned down and kissed her head again, he reclined back on the chair. He gazed at the ceiling, seeing her little mobile with stars and ducks on it.

He patted Mellie’s back with a soft accuracy, closing his eyes and reveling in the feeling of his daughter on his chest.

•••

He woke up in the late morning, feeling a much heavier weight on his chest. He opened his eyes, looking down and seeing Winnie curled into his chest, Mellie snuggled into his neck with his arm underneath her bottom. He looked up, seeing his wife folding clothes on the floor. He pushed on his right foot, gently rocking and catching your attention. You looked up at your husband as you finished folding his shirt, a smile on your face. His other arm went around Winnie’s back, she snuggled into his chest even more. You stood up from where you were, opening your phone and showing him a picture you had taken two hours before - Winnie looking up at him with a smile, then one of her curled into his chest like she was now. His hand absentmindedly pet his oldest daughter’s hair that matched his, a grin on his face. He looked back to you, whispering, “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You whispered back, sliding your phone in your sweatpants pocket. You leaned forward and kissed him, then kissed his cheek. “Go back to sleep.”

“She’ll probably need to be fed.” He nodded down to the baby.

“Just did. She just fell back asleep.” You mumbled, your hand gently rubbed Winnie’s arm. “Winnie’s had breakfast too. You need to rest.”

“So do you.” He answered, eyes meeting yours but you shrugged.

“This is the longest either have slept in a while, so I’m going to get some things done.” You turned back to the laundry, stepping over the four folded stacks and sitting back down next to the basket. “Then, I will go take a nap, okay?”

He nodded, eyes fluttered closed again as he leaned back, still gently rocking the chair with his foot. He sat there for another twenty minutes, listening to you fold clothes and hum a familiar song.

“Thank you.” He spoke into the room, hearing the baby’s soft breathing near his ear and as Winnie moved a little.

You stopped folding clothes, that he knew for sure because there was no more humming. “For what?”

“For this.” He answered, opening his eyes and jutting his chin to Mellie then Winnie. “Couldn’t’ve asked for someone better.”

You smiled at him, setting your hands on a stack of his shirts before swiping at your eye. You patted his stack of clothes, you still had a bit left to go but you didn’t care - you got to your feet and walked over to him. Your hands were gentle when you picked up Winnie, letting her curl her arms around your neck as he stared at you. You jutted your head towards the door of the nursery. “Come on, nap time.”

He instantly slowly rose from the rocking chair, hearing it rock back and forth behind him as he kept the two month old against his collarbone. She didn’t make a sound. He followed you as you effortlessly carried Winnie, who was out like a light, down to your shared bedroom. It made the heaviness of his long and strenuous deployment begin to thaw from his stomach and shoulders - he followed you as you pulled back the duvet with one hand, settling the four year old in the middle of the bed before climbing in. He moved to the other side, lowering himself back into his bed.

He checked the baby again, still seeing that she was asleep. You moved to your side, looking at him as Winnie snuggled into your chest. He settled Mellie onto her back right next to his own chest as he tugged the duvet to just below Winnie’s head, your waist, and Mellie’s onesied feet. His head settled on his pillow as yours did, his hand came up and brushed some hair around your ear. The two of you sort of made a cocoon, legs tangled together and facing each other as your hand rubbed the belly of the small baby - your bodies shielding your children from the outside world.

“I’m sorry.” Simon spoke softly, his hand was removed from your head and settled on the duvet. Your eyes met his, only a few faded streaks of eye paint on his lash lines remained.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You murmured, your hand then moved from Mellie to Winnie, gently petting her head.

“I left you here alone.” You had to endure this alone. Had to give birth alone, without support of your husband - had to raise both of his children alone, with no outside help for thousands of miles. His eyes stared at yours, even if you gazed down at your daughters. “I chose to take that deployment.”

“And you said it would only be three months.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, wanting nothing more to pull you to his chest and press his words into your skin like tattoos - words of praise, of trust, love.

There was a moment of silence before Simon spoke again.

“I want to slow down.” His voice sort of trembled, his hand coming to rest on Winnie’s head too - settling on top of yours. “I can’t let you think that I don’t support you.”

“Simon…”

He continued. “I want to only do one deployment a year, so that way you will never have to do this-“ He nodded to the children between their chests. “Without my support and without me.”

“You can’t just give up your life for us.” Your thumb drew small circles in Winnie’s hair. “I can’t let our family be what takes you away from what you want to do with your life.”

“I never wanted to be in the military after Winnie was born. Almost quit then.” He spoke then, not whispering anymore. “Almost did it again when we got married.” His eyes moved to look at your diamond ring, how it still glimmered in the dim sunlight that hazed through the room. “I could die the day I get deployed next. I will do whatever it takes to make sure I come home.”

“Simon, is this what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Be a soldier?”

Simon only stared.

You sighed. “One less deployment would be nice, and with the long ones like this, you’ll need to give me warning so I don’t stay up every night waiting for you.” You took a deep breath, meeting his eyes. “Your friends are counting on you, I think we both know that your job is not done yet.”

Sometimes he was amazed at how intuitive you were - you knew exactly how he felt within a moment. He sort of grunted before running a hand down his maskless face. “You’re my wife, you come first.”

“Your family comes first, and that includes 141. I won’t have it any other way.” You concluded, voice sharp and definitive. Your hand went to rest on his cheek and he let you, let your thumb trace lines under his eye. “You can’t give up on what you believe in for me.”

“But you have given up a lot for me.” He whispered, his hand settled on yours. “You should’ve gone back home, had the support you needed - but you stayed in a place where you have no friends or family. You raised my children alone, you gave up your life back home to raise my child. This- My solitude is no place for…us.”

“I didn’t give anything up that easily, Simon.” Your tone was defensive, he immediately knew he crossed a line. “I never go into anything blindly. I always assess the situation and the best outcomes.” You gave him a sharp glare as you narrowed your eyes. “There’s a reason why there is another child in our bed.” Your thumb stopped moving and settled under his eye. “I wouldn’t have gone through with having her if I didn’t think I could’ve done it alone. There was no shortage of support from my family across the pond.”

“Quit sayin’ slang, you’re American.”

You smiled at that comment. “Simon, I knew you were coming home. I know that you’ll always come home to me. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Quit it. No more apologies, you didn’t know.” Your voice became small then, eyes unfocusing as you let the walls fall down. Tears pricked at your eyes. “Do I wish I could change that? Absolutely. But someone needed your help, you save thousands of people every day and I can’t let myself keep you from your duty.”

“You wouldn’t be. It’s my choice.”

“I know.”

“I can’t keep leaving this house, not knowing if I’m coming back.”

Mellie cooed then, both of you looked down and your hands separated. His hand went to gently rub her stomach, trying to coax her back to sleep.

“You’re a wonderful father.”

His hand slowed to a stop, trying to accept what you said because he sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

“You’ll always be here for them, I know that for a fact.” You continued. “Whatever you choose, that will never change. You will always love them. And I will stand by whatever decision you make.”

He just gazed at you then. His heart felt warm, he wanted to move forward and kiss you but his children were in the way - so he settled for placing his hand on the back of your jaw, splaying his fingers through your hair and above and below your ear. He cradled your face a little. “I’ll call Price tomorrow.”

You nodded, leaning into his hand and moving to kiss his palm. “Good.”

“And I want you to find a house that’s near your parents.”

You froze then, eyes wide as you whispered, “What?”

He shrugged. “In case a Mellie happens again, which I will make sure it won’t, I want you to be close to your family. I have no family to keep me here that’s not you.”

“You don’t have to uproot out life from here, Si. I’m fine here.” You muttered. “I promise.”

“Let me give something up for you, since you won’t let me give up my job.”

Your hand rested on Winnie’s head again, she was still out like a light. “Simon, I mean it. You don’t have to give anything up-“

“Stop telling me what I can or can’t give up.” His tone was a little harsh. “Just let me have the peace of knowing that you’ll be with your family if I get killed.”

You fell silent, knowing that this really came from a deep place in his heart because his eyes were screwed shut for just a moment. You gave the idea a little thought, maybe it wouldn’t be bad to stop wasting money on plane tickets and stay back home. Your little brothers love Winnie, they’ll meet and love Mellie - your parents adore them too. You had to admit, it was one of the ways he showed his love - by keeping you hidden away, yet in a safe reach.

“Let me think on it.” You answered, eyes fluttering closed as his hand slipped away.

“Sleep on it, love.” He whispered.

“I love you, Simon.”

He smiled.

“I love you too.”

———

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x afab!reader #simon riley x wife!reader #cod mw 2022 #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium

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multifandoms27-blog · 3 months

Note

Alucard feeding off the reader??

Content: Alucard x fem!Reader

Warnings: Blood, vampire feeding

Notes: You didn't specify gender, so I just went with a woman reader. Also apologize if this is ooc, this is my first time writing Alucard. I also got some devastating news about a family member halfway through this which may have clouded my judgement on if this was good enough to publish on the internet

You always liked Alucards fangs. The way they gleamed in the moonlight, the way he'd use them to scare enemies off, the way they'd flash at you when he smiled. He smiled a lot with you. He adored you.

Even after his friends left him, and those twins betrayed him, he found room in his heart to give you a chance, and it evolved into a beautiful relationship where he practically worshipped the ground you walked on.

Two lost souls come to find solace in each others arms, passionately loving each other until the end of time. Alucard felt his love for you grow with each and every day - and so at some point he vowed to never hurt you. That included feeding if he ever needed to, and you appreciated that.

Until tonight.

Alucard hadn't fed off of blood in so long, he began to dim. His normally bright yellow eyes now stuck to the floor, dulled and dark. His bright blond, wavy hair, stopped being washed. He felt sluggish and depressed. He knew not feeding wouldn't kill him, but it made him feel better. But he would never feed off of you, he told himself.

After seeing what no blood does to him, you offered your neck up to his fangs. He vehemently denied your suggestion, but gave in the more you insisted.

Now you lay helpless in your nightgown, your lover crawling over you. The moonlight shining through the window reveals his eyes to you, those dim yellow orbs telling a tale of concern. His hand moves under your chin and slots your head to the side, giving him better access. He looks at you one last time.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." You give him a smile.

He wouldn't feed from you.

But he lowered his head and bit down anyway.

He wouldn't feed from you.

But he drained your blood from you.

He wouldn't feed from you.

But he pulled away, his brightness returned to him, and you winced as he pulled his fangs out of you.

Adrian fought himself the entire time he drained you of your blood, tried to reason with himself that there must be some other way. But Alucard reasoned that you wanted this, liked it even, and who was he to deny you of that?

He looked you over as he pulled away, his mouth and teeth smeared in your blood. "Are you okay?"

"Never been better." You joked, though you now felt weak.

"I'll go get us some things to clean this up with." Alucard carefully moved off of you. "I didn't take too much, did I?"

"No, no. Just grab a cloth or something before my blood gets on your bed." You shooed him off.

Alucard returned with a cloth, a bandage, and some water for you. He kissed you, wiped up the blood and kissed the wound, then carefully put a bandage over top to make sure it didn't bleed anymore. He handed you the water for you to drink, and then climbed into bed with you.

"I love you." He mumbled into your ear.

"I love you too." You set the water down on the table next to the bed, laid with him, and slept the night away.

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

#adrian tepes #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes x you #castlevania netflix #castlevania #adrian fahrenheit tepes #alucard #alucard x you #alucard x reader

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kckt88 · 2 months

Text

Kickstart My Heart

Summary:

After his last relationship ended, Aemond decided he was taking a break from women, and it was going well until his sister Helaena introduces him to her new friend.

Warning(s): Language, Angst, Mentions of Past Cheating, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex, Loss of Virginity, P in V, Misunderstandings, Alys.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x Y.N (PAST AEMOND X ALYS)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 7215

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Aemond stood in the dimly lit living room of the apartment he used to share with Alys. The air felt heavy with the weight of their turbulent relationship, a storm that had raged for far too long.

Tonight, however, he was determined to bring an end to it.

Alys sat on the couch, her green eyes fixated on her phone, barely acknowledging his presence. She exuded an air of indifference, as if his existence was merely an inconvenience.

"Alys," Aemond began, his voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within him. "We need to talk."

She glanced up briefly, her expression tinged with annoyance. "Can't it wait? I'm in the middle of something."

Aemond shook his head, his resolve hardening with each passing second. "No, it can't wait. I've had enough."

Alys scoffed, a derisive smile playing on her lips. "What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," Aemond replied, his tone unwavering. "I can't do this anymore. I can't be with someone who belittles me, who cheats on me, who takes advantage of me."

Alys's facade of indifference crumbled, replaced by a flicker of anger. "You're being ridiculous, Aemond. You can't just throw away what we have because of a few petty disagreements."

"These aren't petty disagreements, Alys," Aemond retorted, his voice rising slightly. "You've made me feel worthless, you've betrayed my trust time and time again, and you've manipulated me into doing things I never wanted to do. I deserve better than this."

Alys opened her mouth to respond, but Aemond held up a hand, silencing her. "I'm done, Alys. I'm leaving."

With that, he turned on his heel and strode towards the door, his heart pounding in his chest. As he stepped out into the cool night air, a sense of liberation washed over him, filling him with a newfound sense of purpose.

He made his way to his sister Helaena's apartment, seeking solace in the familiarity of her presence.

Of course, his sister welcomes him with open arms, saying he could stay as long as he needed to and as Aemond settle in and began to regain some semblance of normalcy he vowed to take a break from relationships and women.

He had been blinded by what he thought was love and lured into a toxic cycle that had left him broken and disillusioned. But now, as he gazed into the depths of his own soul, he knew that he could not afford to make the same mistake again.

"No more," declared Aemond, his voice growing stronger with each repetition. "I will focus on myself, on rebuilding my life and reclaiming my sense of worth. I will not let anyone else dictate my happiness or define my worthiness."

After that things were going great, Aemond regained his focus at work, he began hanging out with his friends again and he even started back at the gym.

His mantra of no women was doing him the world of good until one day Helaena had dragged him to flower shop where she worked and introduced him to her new friend and every single ounce of sanity flew from his head the moment her saw her.

"Aemond, this is Y.N," Helaena said with a warm smile as she gestured towards the stunning woman beside her.

Aemond's gaze swept over Y.N, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. He felt as though the air had been knocked out of his lungs, his heart pounding fiercely in his chest.

Y.N was breathtakingly beautiful, with long auburn hair cascading down her back and piercing blue eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Aemond," Y.N said, her voice soft and melodious, sending shivers down his spine.

Aemond managed to compose himself enough to offer a polite nod in response, though his mind was reeling with a whirlwind of emotions. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Y.N, captivated by her beauty and grace.

As the conversation flowed between the three of them, Aemond found himself drawn to Y.N's every word, hanging on her every syllable as though it were a lifeline. He couldn't deny the magnetic pull he felt towards her, the way she seemed to light up the room with her presence.

As Y.N stood face to face with Aemond, she couldn't help but be struck by his undeniable presence. Tall and lithe, he exuded an air of quiet strength that drew her in like a moth to a flame.

But it was not just his stature that caught her attention.

Her gaze traced the sharp angles of his face, taking in the striking features that seemed to have been carved from marble by the hands of a master sculptor. Despite the scar that bisected the left side of his face and the eyepatch, there was an undeniable beauty in the symmetry of his features.

Y.N found herself captivated by the intensity of his remaining eye, a stormy grey that seemed to hold a world of emotions within its depths. There was a vulnerability there, a glimpse into the soul of a man who had weathered his fair share of storms.

But it was not just Aemond's physical appearance that left Y.N breathless. There was something about the way he carried himself, with a quiet confidence tempered by a hint of sorrow, that spoke to her on a deeper level.

In that moment, as their eyes met and held, Y.N knew that she had stumbled upon someone truly remarkable. And as she found herself drawn into his orbit, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement at the prospect of getting to know him better, of unravelling the mysteries that lay hidden beneath the surface of his stoic facade.

As Y.N stood before Aemond, her eyes cast downward in a gesture of shyness that was unlike anything he had ever encountered before. Unlike the confident and brazen women, he had known in the past, Y.N seemed to radiate a quiet and unassuming charm that drew him in despite himself.

Her timid demeanour stood in stark contrast to the fiery spirit of Floris, the regal confidence of Cerelle or the boldness of Alys. There was a softness to Y.N, a vulnerability that spoke volumes without her having to utter a single word.

Aemond found himself captivated by the way she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the way her cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink whenever their eyes met. There was a purity to her presence that stirred something within him, something he had long thought lost amidst the chaos of his past relationships.

Helaena couldn't contain her excitement as she extended an invitation to Y.N to join them at her apartment for a casual get-together.

As Y.N agreed to come over, Helaena shot a mischievous glance at her brothers, Aegon and Aemond, who were lounging in the living room.

"You should see the look on Aemond's face," Helaena teased, her eyes dancing with amusement. "I think he's more excited about this than anyone."

Aegon chuckled, casting a knowing glance in Aemond's direction. "I thought you swore off women, little brother. What happened to all that talk about focusing on yourself?"

Aemond felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment, though he couldn't deny the truth in his brother's jest. "I-uh-it's not like that," he stammered, struggling to find the right words to defend himself.

Helaena laughed, coming to her brother's rescue. "Oh, lighten up, Aegon. Can't a man appreciate the company of a charming woman without it being a big deal?"

Aegon raised an eyebrow in mock scepticism, but the corner of his mouth twitched with amusement. "I suppose so."

With a good-natured chuckle, Aemond rolled his eyes, knowing that his siblings meant well. And as he awaited Y.N's arrival with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation, he couldn't help but feel grateful for their unwavering support and teasing banter.

As Y.N arrived at Helaena's apartment, she clutched a box of delicately decorated butterfly fairy cakes that she had baked herself. The nervous flutter in her stomach only intensified as she stepped through the door, greeted by the warm smiles of Helaena and her brothers.

"Y.N, you made it!" Helaena exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "And you brought your famous butterfly fairy cakes! I can't wait to try them."

Y.N's cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson at the praise, her shy demeanour shining through as she handed the box to Helaena. "I hope you like them," she murmured softly, her gaze flickering towards the floor.

Aegon stepped forward, extending a hand in greeting. "I'm Aegon, Helaena's older brother. It's a pleasure to meet you, Y.N."

Y.N nodded politely, her eyes darting briefly to meet his before retreating once more. "Nice to meet you, Aegon," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond watched the interaction with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, noting the way Y.N seemed to retreat into herself in the presence of his siblings. When she finally glanced up and caught his eye, her blush deepened, and she seemed to shrink back even further.

"Hello, Y.N," Aemond greeted her with a warm smile, his voice gentle as he tried to ease her nerves.

"Hi, Aemond," Y.N replied, her voice barely audible as she fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sleeve.

Aemond couldn't help but be charmed by her shyness, finding it endearing in a way he hadn't expected.

As the evening progressed, Aemond found himself drawn to Y.N's quiet presence, his curiosity piqued by the mystery that surrounded her.

"So, Aemond," Aegon began with a mischievous glint in his eye, "do you think Y.N would be as shy in bed as she is here?"

Aemond's smile faltered, his amusement evaporating in an instant as he shot his brother a stern look. He was not amused by Aegon's insinuation, finding it distasteful and disrespectful.

"Aegon, that's enough," Aemond said sharply, his voice carrying a note of warning.

Aegon's grin widened, unfazed by his brother's reprimand. "Oh, come on, Aemond. I was just kidding. Lighten up."

But Aemond wasn't in the mood for jokes, especially not at Y.N's expense. He could see the discomfort in her eyes, the way she seemed to shrink back even further at Aegon's words. It wasn't fair to make her the subject of such crude humour, especially when she had done nothing to warrant it.

"I said that's enough," Aemond repeated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Aegon held up his hands in mock surrender, though the smirk never left his face. "Fine, fine. I'll behave."

As the tension between them eased, Aemond turned his attention back to Y.N, determined to make her feel comfortable despite his brother's thoughtless remark. And as he caught her eye and offered her an apologetic smile, he silently vowed to ensure that she felt respected and valued for the rest of the evening.

As the evening drew to a close and it was time to say their goodbyes, Aemond gathered his courage and approached Y.N, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y.N," he began, his voice slightly nervous but determined, "I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me?"

Y.N's cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, but a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "I would love to," she replied softly, her eyes shining with shy anticipation.

Aemond felt a surge of relief and joy flood through him at her acceptance, his heart soaring at the prospect of spending more time with her. "Great," he said, unable to contain the grin that spread across his face. "Is there anywhere in particular you'd like to go? Maybe the cinema, or somewhere else?"

Y.N's blush deepened, but she shook her head. "The cinema sounds perfect," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Alright then," Aemond said, his excitement bubbling over. "How about we meet tomorrow evening at 7pm at the cinema? We can catch a movie and maybe grab dinner afterwards?"

Y.N nodded eagerly, a shy smile playing on her lips. "That sounds wonderful," she agreed, her eyes meeting his with a newfound confidence.

As Y.N departed from Helaena's apartment, leaving Aemond with a heart full of anticipation for their upcoming date, Aegon couldn't resist the opportunity to tease his younger brother once more.

"Well, well, little brother," Aegon teased, a playful smirk dancing on his lips, "looks like you've got yourself a shy little bird there. Are you sure you can handle her?"

Aemond shot his brother a pointed look, his patience wearing thin. "Aegon, enough with the jokes," he chided, his tone firm.

Helaena, sensing the tension in the air, quickly intervened, elbowing Aegon in the ribs with a reproachful glare. "Stop it, Aegon," she scolded, her voice carrying a note of warning. "Y.N is very shy, and I don't want her to get hurt."

Aegon winced slightly at the jab but couldn't resist a playful grin. "Alright, alright," he relented, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'll behave, I promise."

Aemond turned to Helaena, his expression earnest as he spoke. "You don't need to worry, Helaena. I'll be good to Y.N. I promise to treat her with the respect and kindness she deserves."

Helaena smiled warmly at her brother, her eyes shining with pride. "I know you will, Aemond," she said softly, her voice filled with confidence. "Just be yourself, and everything will be fine."

The next day -

As the clock struck 7 pm, Aemond Targaryen stood outside the cinema, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation. His eyes scanned the bustling crowd, searching for a glimpse of Y.N. And there she was, emerging from the sea of people, a vision of beauty in a sun dress paired with a cardigan that hugged her delicate frame.

Aemond couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration as he approached her, his lips curling into a warm smile. "Y.N," he greeted her, his voice tinged with excitement.

Y.N's cheeks flushed a rosy pink at his greeting, but a radiant smile graced her lips as she returned his gaze. "Hi, Aemond," she replied softly, her eyes sparkling with shy anticipation.

Together, they entered the cinema, the anticipation of the evening ahead hanging in the air like a delicate promise. As they settled into their seats, Aemond couldn't help but notice the way Y.N's eyes widened with excitement at the prospect of the movie they were about to watch.

The lights dimmed, and the screen flickered to life, casting a soft glow over the darkened theater. Aemond glanced at Y.N out of the corner of his eye, noting the way she jumped at the sudden burst of sound and movement on the screen.

As the movie unfolded, Aemond found himself more amused by Y.N's reactions than by the film itself. He couldn't help but smile as she buried her face in her hands during the suspenseful moments, her fingers peeking through to cover her eyes.

Unable to resist the urge to offer her comfort, Aemond gently draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close in a gesture of silent reassurance. Y.N tensed slightly at the unexpected contact, but soon relaxed into his embrace, leaning into him with a sigh of relief.

After the movie ended, Aemond and Y.N emerged from the cinema into the bustling city streets, the cool evening air tinged with the aroma of freshly baked pizza. Aemond glanced at Y.N, wondering where she might want to go for dinner, but he was pleasantly surprised when she suggested his favorite pizza place.

"Really? That's one of my favorite spots!" Aemond exclaimed, a smile spreading across his face. "I didn't know you liked it too."

Y.N's cheeks flushed with a shy smile. "I've actually been there a few times before," she admitted. "It's delicious."

As they made their way to the pizza place, Aemond couldn't shake the feeling of gratitude that swelled within him. Unlike his ex-girlfriend Alys, who always expected him to foot the bill for everything, Y.N seemed considerate and respectful.

When they reached the restaurant, Aemond reached for his wallet to pay for their meal, but Y.N gently placed a hand on his arm, stopping him. "Let me get this one," she insisted, her eyes meeting his with a determined gaze. "You paid for the cinema, so it's only fair that I treat you to dinner."

Aemond's heart warmed at her gesture, touched by her thoughtfulness and generosity. "Are you sure?" he asked, wanting to make sure she was comfortable with the arrangement.

Y.N nodded, her smile soft and genuine. "I'm sure. Besides, it's the least I can do after you invited me out tonight."

With a grateful nod, Aemond put his wallet back in jeans pocket, allowing Y.N to take care of the bill. As they sat together, enjoying their meal and each other's company, Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle over him.

With Y.N by his side, he knew that he had found someone who appreciated him for who he was, and not someone who only valued him not for his family name or wealth.

As the evening drew to a close, Aemond walked Y.N back to her small one-bedroom flat, just a few blocks away from where he lived with Helaena. The gentle hum of conversation between them filled the air, punctuated by the occasional laugh and shared smile.

As they reached Y.N's door, she turned to Aemond with a shy smile. "Would you mind waiting here for a moment?" she asked softly. "I just need to grab something."

"Of course," Aemond replied with a nod, curiosity piqued by her request.

Y.N disappeared into her flat, leaving Aemond standing outside her door with a sense of anticipation building within him. He couldn't help but wonder what she was up to, his mind racing with possibilities.

Moments later, Y.N reappeared, holding something in her hands. Aemond's breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of the dragon-shaped pastry she held out to him, a soft smile playing on her lips.

"I made this for you," Y.N said softly, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "It's filled with jam. I hope you like it."

Aemond's heart swelled with gratitude and affection as he accepted the pastry from her. "Thank you, Y.N," he said sincerely, his voice filled with warmth. "I'm sure it's delicious."

As he took a bite of the pastry, Aemond couldn't help but be struck by the sweetness of the gesture. It was a simple gift, but it spoke volumes about Y.N's thoughtfulness and care. And as he savored the flavor of the jam-filled pastry, he knew that he had found something truly special in her – a connection that he cherished more than words could express.

In a daring moment of impulse, Aemond leaned in, his heart pounding in his chest as he closed the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle kiss, a tentative exploration of the unknown, and in that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still.

It was unlike anything Aemond had ever felt before – a surge of warmth and electricity that coursed through his veins, igniting a spark that set his soul ablaze. In that moment of intimacy, he felt a connection with Y.N that transcended the boundaries of mere physical attraction, a deep and profound understanding that resonated to the very core of his being.

As they parted, their eyes met in silent communion, the intensity of their gaze speaking volumes without the need for words.

As Aemond and Y.N's relationship blossomed, they found themselves drawn to each other like magnets, spending every available moment together exploring the intricacies of their budding romance. Their days were filled with laughter and shared experiences.

One sunny afternoon, as they lounged in Y.N's cozy kitchen, the scent of freshly baked goods wafting through the air, Y.N suggested that they try their hand at baking a sponge cake together.

"It'll be fun," she said with a smile, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And besides, I've been dying to teach you how to bake."

Aemond chuckled, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice. "I'm not sure I'll be any good at it, but I'll give it a try."

With Y.N's patient guidance, they set to work, measuring out ingredients and mixing them together with care. Aemond couldn't help but feel a sense of pride as he watched Y.N work her magic in the kitchen, her skill and expertise evident in every precise movement.

As they popped the cake into the oven and waited for it to bake, Aemond found himself growing more and more excited at the prospect of tasting their creation. When the timer finally beeped, signaling that the cake was done, they eagerly pulled it out of the oven and set it on the counter to cool.

With bated breath, they sliced into the cake and took their first bite, only to find that it was a little on the dry side. Aemond's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but Y.N simply laughed and reached for the whipped cream, insisting that it would make everything better.

Together, they devoured the cake, laughing and joking as they shared in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

As Aemond and Y.N sat together one evening, the warmth of the fire casting a soft glow over the room, Aemond felt a sudden urge to confide in her, to share the depths of his past with the woman he had grown to love.

"Y.N," he began, his voice quiet but resolute, "there's something I need to tell you."

Y.N turned to him, concern etched into her features. "What is it, Aemond?"

Taking a deep breath, Aemond launched into the painful tale of his relationship with Alys – the belittling words, the constant infidelity, the toxic cycle of breaking up and getting back together.

"It was a dark time in my life," Aemond confessed, his voice heavy with emotion. "I was lost, and I didn't know how to break free from the hold she had over me."

Y.N listened in silence, her heart aching for the pain that Aemond had endured. She reached out and took his hand in hers, offering him the comfort of her touch.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Aemond," she said softly, her voice filled with empathy. "But you're stronger now."

Aemond nodded, a sense of gratitude washing over him for Y.N's unwavering support. "Yes, I have," he replied, his voice tinged with determination. "And I owe it to you, Y.N. You've shown me what it means to be truly loved, and I'll never take that for granted."

As the night worn on and the two of them shared kisses, the unspoken question of what was going to happen next hung in the air.

“I-I’ve never done it before” muttered Y.N shyly as she pressed her face into Aemond’s chest.

“It’s ok. We don’t need to do this, not until you’re ready” replied Aemond stroking her hair softly.

“B-But I want to. I want you to be my first” whispered Y.N.

“Only if you’re sure, I don’t want you to feel pressured into anything” said Aemond firmly.

“I’m sure Aemond. I want this-I want you” exclaimed Y.N as she took his hand and led him to her bedroom.

Despite his experience, Aemond had never so nervous in his entire life, his hands shook as he slowly undressed himself.

Y.N gently tugged off the dress she was wearing and Aemond could feel his mouth watering at the sight of her delectable body.

“I-I don’t know what to do” muttered Y.N her cheeks tinged pink.

“It’s ok-I’ll take care of you” replied Aemond as he directed Y.N to sit on the end if the bed.

“I trust you” replied Y.N quietly.

Aemond smiled as he knelt on the floor, lowering his head between Y.N’s legs.

“Aemond-“ shrieked Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head as Aemond’s tongue swept across her slick wet folds.

Y.N bit the back of her hand to keep herself from screaming as Aemond began using his long fingers to tease her entrance.

“Let me hear you”.

“A-Aemond. Oh god. Please” begged Y.N

Aemond pressed two fingers inside Y.N, moving them against a spot that made her entire body shake, his tongue moving against her folds, his lips wrapping around her pearl.

“I know your almost there. Let it happen my sweet. Come for me” whispered Aemond.

Y.N arched her back and let out a scream as her pleasure erupted.

Aemond crawled up Y.N’s body, placing gentle kisses on her skin as he moved higher and higher.

Y.N blushed furiously when she saw that Aemond’s chin was shining with her slick.

“Calm yourself my little bird” murmured Aemond.

“I-I’ve never-” mumbled Y.N putting her hands over her face in embarrassment.

“Was that your first peak?” asked Aemond as he gently pulled away her hands and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips.

Y.N blushed and nodded quickly, jumping when she felt Aemond’s cock against her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow” whispered Aemond as he reached down and took hold of his hard cock rubbing it along Y.N’s wet folds.

“Ok. I’m ready” replied Y.N, her heart pounding.

Aemond hesitates for a moment, his brow furrowed.

“I-don’t have a condom”.

“Oh-I have some” replied Y.N.

“You do?” questioned Aemond.

“I bought them from the pharmacy and-“ replied Y.N, her face flushed.

“-It’s ok-where are they?” asked Aemond.

“I-In the drawer” uttered Y.N.

Aemond nodded and briefly moved away from Y.N, he quickly opened the drawer and pulled out the box of condoms.

“Are they the right ones-there were so many different kinds and-“

“-They’re good” replied Aemond as he opened the box and took out a condom.

Y.N closed her eyes as Aemond ripped open the foil packet and rolled the condom down his length.

Aemond leaned forward again and placed a series of kisses along Y.N’s neck, his hand gently cupping her breast before he sucked the rosy bud into his mouth, his tongue rolling around the stiffened peak.

“L-Let me see you” whispered Y.N.

Aemond released her nipple with a soft pop and frowned.

“It’s not a pretty sight-I wouldn’t want to frighten you” replied Aemond.

“Nothing about you could frighten me Aemond-“ breathed Y.N

Aemond hesitated for a moment before he pulled off his eye patch, revealing a sparkling sapphire.

“Beautiful” whispered Y.N as she took Aemond’s head in her hands and placed a kiss upon the scar.

Aemond smiled before he knelt between her thighs, supporting himself above her on his forearm while his other hand guides his cock to her wet centre.

“Oooh Aemond” exclaims Y.N

Aemond slowly pushes the blunt head of his cock inside. Just the tip feels okay but then he’s pushing inside, and it stings, Y.N clenches her eyes shut as his cock fully slides into her, his hips coming to rest against hers.

“Are you ok?” asked Aemond.

“It hurts,” cried Y.N

“Do you want me to stop-I can pull out” whispered Aemond.

“N-No g-give me a moment” whimpered Y.N.

Aemond stops, holding himself above Y.N, she can feel his cock throbbing inside her.

For a few silent minutes, Aemond begins to press gentle kisses all over Y.N’s face and neck, then after the sting has faded somewhat, Y.N gently moves her hips.

“I-I think you can move”.

Aemond exhales shakily, pulling out halfway only to thrust right back in.

“You’re taking me so well little bird,” whispers Aemond soothingly, thrusting again, harder this time.

Gradually he gets into a rhythm, his movements slow but powerful.

Y.N brings her hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as his thrusts shift her up and down the bed. The wooden frame creaking slightly.

Aemond makes a strangled sort of sound and lowers himself onto Y.N even more, kissing her passionately.

His cock still thrusting in and out.

Y.N kisses him back, threading her fingers through his silky hair.

Aemond breaks the kiss, breathing heavily.

Y.N can feel herself clenching around him as his cock keeps hitting the same spot inside her.

“Ooo Aemond-f-faster. P-please”

Aemond groans as he begins to move faster pounding into her, their skin slapping together.

“Aemond-Aemond-”

“You’re so fucking perfect little bird, mine all mine” growls Aemond.

“Y-Yes, yours all yours” moans Y.N squirming as he pleasure peaks and she explodes.

Aemond lets out a long low groan, his hips bucking wildly. His cock twitching as he spills into the condom.

Aemond’s hips finally stagger and stop. He buries his face in the crook of her neck, resting for a moment before he slowly pulls out.

“Are you ok?” asked Aemond.

“I’m fine” whispered Y.N smiling breathlessly.

In the days following their intimate moment together, Aemond's behaviour began to change, his once carefree demeanour replaced by a sense of unease and agitation. He grew increasingly distant, his mind preoccupied with thoughts he refused to share with Y.N.

As they sat together one evening, the air heavy with tension, Y.N couldn't help but notice the way Aemond's eyes flickered nervously towards his phone every time it buzzed with a new message or notification. She reached out to touch his hand, a gesture of comfort and concern, but he withdrew from her touch, his expression clouded with frustration.

"What's wrong, Aemond?" Y.N asked softly, her voice laced with worry.

Aemond's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin as he snapped at her in a fit of frustration. "Nothing, okay? Just leave me alone."

Y.N recoiled at his harsh words, hurt flashing across her features as she withdrew into herself, uncertain of how to respond. She had never seen Aemond like this before, his normally calm and collected demeanour shattered by whatever demons haunted him.

As the days passed, Aemond's behaviour only grew more erratic, his temper flaring at the slightest provocation. He withdrew further and further into himself, shutting Y.N out.

Things didn’t improve and a few weeks later when Y.N was walking to work, and she spotted Aemond talking to a dark haired woman.

There was something about the way they interacted that made her stomach churn with unease – the woman's lingering touches, the way Aemond seemed visibly uncomfortable in her presence.

Unable to tear her eyes away, Y.N watched in silent horror as the woman leaned in and planted a kiss on Aemond's lips. A surge of pain shot through her chest, the betrayal cutting her to the core as she struggled to process what she had just witnessed.

Without a second thought, Y.N turned on her heel and fled, the tears streamed down her cheeks, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she fought to escape the suffocating grip of heartbreak that threatened to consume her whole.

Aemond was frantic, all his calls and messages to Y.N went unanswered, his desperation grew, a gnawing sense of dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

Determined to make amends, Aemond made his way to Y.N's flat, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation. He knocked on the door, calling out her name in a voice tinged with desperation, but there was no response – only silence echoing back at him like a cruel mockery of his pain.

Growing increasingly frantic, Aemond tried again and again to reach Y.N, but each attempt was met with the same resounding silence. And as he stood outside her door, his pleas falling on deaf ears, he felt a sense of despair wash over him, knowing that he had pushed her away with his own foolishness.

But it wasn't just Y.N who turned her back on him – even Helaena, his own sister, greeted him with a cold shoulder, her expression tight with disappointment as she refused to meet his gaze.

He had expected her to be upset, but the fury in her eyes was more intense than he had ever imagined.

"What were you thinking, Aemond?" Helaena snapped, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "Y.N saw you with Alys. Do you have any idea how much you've hurt her?"

Aemond's heart clenched at the mention of Y.N's name, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him like a leaden weight. "Helaena, you have to believe me," he protested, his voice thick with emotion. "It wasn't what it looked like. Alys kissed me, I didn't want her to, and I pushed her away immediately."

Helaena's eyes narrowed in disbelief, her jaw clenching with frustration. "Do you expect me to believe that?" she demanded, her voice rising with each word. "Y.N saw you with Alys, Aemond. She saw it with her own eyes."

Aemond's heart sank at the realization of the damage his actions had caused, the truth of Helaena's words hitting him like a punch to the gut. "I swear it's the truth, Helaena," he pleaded, desperation creeping into his voice. "I would never hurt Y.N like that. You have to believe me."

Helaena's expression softened slightly, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. "I want to believe you, Aemond," she admitted, her voice softer now, tinged with sadness. "But you need to understand the gravity of the situation. Y.N is hurting, and it's because of you."

Aemond bowed his head in shame, the weight of his guilt threatening to crush him under its unbearable burden. "I know," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "And I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. I just hope that Y.N will give me the chance to prove myself to her."

As the rain poured down in torrents, soaking Aemond to the bone, he stood outside Y.N's flat, his heart heavy with regret and longing. He knew she was inside, just beyond the closed door, and he couldn't bear the thought of leaving without at least trying to make things right.

With a trembling hand, Aemond knocked on the door, each rap echoing loudly in the quiet of the rainy night. "Y.N, please," he called out, his voice raw with emotion. "Please let me in. I need to talk to you."

For a moment, there was only silence, the sound of the rain pounding against the pavement the only response to Aemond's pleas. But just as he was about to turn away in defeat, he heard the faint sound of movement from inside the flat.

Seconds stretched into eternity as Aemond waited with bated breath, his heart pounding in his chest. And then, finally, the door creaked open, revealing Y.N's tear-stained face, her eyes red and swollen from crying.

Aemond's heart clenched at the sight of her pain, a wave of guilt washing over him like a tidal wave. "Y.N," he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. Please, let me in. I need to explain."

Y.N hesitated for a moment, her gaze searching Aemond's face for any sign of sincerity. And then, slowly, she stepped aside, allowing him to enter the warmth and safety of her flat.

As Aemond stepped over the threshold, he felt a sense of relief wash over him, knowing that he had been given a second chance to make things right. And as he closed the door behind him, he vowed to do whatever it took to earn back Y.N's trust and forgiveness,

Taking a deep breath, he began to speak, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Y.N, there's something I need to tell you," he began, his words coming out in a rush. "Alys has been-she's been bombarding me with messages. She told me she was pregnant."

Y.N's eyes widened in shock, her breath catching in her throat as she struggled to comprehend the gravity of Aemond's words. "Pregnant?" she whispered; her voice barely audible.

Aemond nodded, his expression grim. "Yes," he continued, his voice heavy with regret. "But I demanded a DNA test. I couldn't-I couldn't just take her word for it. And she kept refusing, insisting that the baby was mine."

Y.N's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears as the full weight of Aemond's confession settled over her like a dark cloud. "Oh, Aemond," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I-I don't know what to say."

Aemond reached out to take her hand, his touch gentle and reassuring. "I'm so sorry, Y.N," he whispered, his voice thick with remorse. "I should have told you sooner. I should have been honest with you from the start."

“Yes you should have” replied Y.N.

"I refused to believe Alys," he confessed, his voice strained with emotion. "So, I kept insisting on a DNA test. She resisted at first, but eventually, she agreed."

Y.N's eyes widened in realization, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place as she understood the gravity of Aemond's revelation. "That was the day I saw you with her," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond nodded, his heart heavy with remorse. "Yes," he admitted, his voice barely audible. "I'm so sorry, Y.N. I never wanted to hurt you. I was just trying to protect myself, to make sure that I wasn't being manipulated by Alys."

Y.N's mind raced with conflicting thoughts and emotions as she processed Aemond's revelation. The image of Alys kissing him, coupled with the news of her pregnancy, had led her to assume the worst – that Aemond was the father of Alys's unborn child.

"Aemond," she began tentatively, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "Does-does that mean you're the father?"

Aemond's expression hardened, his jaw set with determination as he shook his head vehemently. "No, the DNA wasn’t a match" he declared firmly. "I'm not the father, Alys kissing me was just her last desperate attempt to try and manipulate me."

Y.N's breath caught in her throat at his words, a wave of relief washing over her as the weight of uncertainty lifted from her shoulders. "Oh, Aemond," she breathed, her voice filled with gratitude. "I'm so glad to hear that."

Aemond reached out to take her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I would never betray your trust like that, Y.N," he vowed earnestly. "You mean everything to me, and I would do anything to prove that to you. I love you"

Tears welled up in Y.N's eyes as she looked into Aemond's eye, seeing the sincerity and love shining brightly within them. "I know, Aemond," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "And I forgive you."

But Aemond wasn't finished yet. With trembling hands, he held up a soggy cardboard box, the remnants of his failed attempt at making her a cake. "I even tried to make you a cake," he confessed, his voice laced with self-deprecation. "But it's all ruined now."

Y.N couldn't help but laugh at the sight of the ruined cake, her heart swelling with affection for the man standing before her. With a playful grin, she knocked the box out of his hand, sending it tumbling to the ground, before throwing herself into his arms and kissing him passionately.

"Aemond," she whispered against his lips, her voice filled with love and gratitude. "I love you too."

As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Aemond and Y.N's relationship blossomed anew, their love growing stronger with each passing day.

And as they stood side by side, hand in hand, they knew that they never wanted to be apart again. So, after much discussion and deliberation, they made the decision to take the next step in their journey together – they would move in together.

With excited hearts and eager anticipation, Aemond and Y.N began the process of finding their perfect home, a place where they could build a life together filled with love, laughter, and countless cherished memories.

And when they finally found the perfect apartment, with its cozy rooms and sunlit windows, they knew that it was meant to be. With smiles on their faces and love in their hearts, they signed the lease and began the process of making their new house a home.

With their love blossoming stronger each day, Aemond felt the time was right to take their relationship to the next level. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Y.N, and he couldn't wait another moment to make her his forever.

So on a crisp autumn evening, with the setting sun casting a warm glow over the world, Aemond led Y.N to his favourite spot in the park. As they walked hand in hand, their laughter floating on the gentle breeze, Aemond's heartbeat with nervous anticipation.

Reaching a secluded clearing surrounded by trees ablaze with fiery hues, Aemond paused, his heart racing with emotion. Taking a deep breath, he got down on one knee, his eyes shining with love as he looked up at Y.N.

"Y.N," he began, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. "From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one. You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I can't imagine spending another day without you by my side."

Y.N's eyes widened in surprise, her hand flying to her mouth in shock as she realized what was happening. Tears welled up in her eyes as she listened to Aemond's words, her heart overflowing with love for the man who stood before her.

"And so," Aemond continued, his voice trembling with emotion, "I want to spend the rest of my life making you happy. Y.N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife? Will you marry me?"

The words hung in the air; the silence broken only by the sound of their hearts beating as one. And then, finally, Y.N's eyes filled with tears of joy as she threw herself into Aemond's arms, laughter bubbling up from deep within her soul.

"Yes, Aemond," she cried, her voice ringing out with pure happiness. "Yes, I will marry you!"

And as they stood together in the golden light of the setting sun, their hearts overflowing with love and happiness, Aemond slipped a beautiful ring onto Y.N's finger, sealing their love with a promise that would last a lifetime.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond smut #aemond x reader #hotd smut #hotd #helaena targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #alys rivers

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the-whispers-of-death · 5 months

Text

The Stars and the Moon

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Male!Reader Summary: You are outside the base, just staring up at the night sky and enjoying the peace the sight evokes. Ghost joins you. Content: Fluff, so much fluff, Ghost so soft he's most likely ooc, Closed off!Reader, desi!Reader, Reader has been in the military for a while, a tiny bit of cursing (like one bad word). Word Count: 990 words Author's Note: Simon currently has the hold on my brain rot, RIP my love John Price. I'd think he'd love to star-gaze, so I wrote this with him in mind and then he was like "What if I just loved Reader more than the stars and the moon?". He took over my brain to write for me and I just couldn't stop him.

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You stood outside the base, a few steps to the left of the entrance to the base. It was a chilly night tonight, a soft breeze ruffling your clothes and your short-cropped black hair.

Your eyes were on the starry night sky, taking every detail of the twinkling stars and the bright full moon. It was peaceful, a respite from all of the chaos of war.

There was no bloodshed here. No screams of pain that permeated the air. Just you and the stars.

Until you heard the door to the base open and a pair of heavy footsteps walk over to you, interrupting the peaceful silence.

“What are you doing out here, lad?” Ghost asked as he settled right next to you. His honey-brown eyes that were the only features of his that were showing beneath his balaclava and white skull mask went to the night sky, as if he too wanted to find the peace in it that you did.

You sighed, sitting down on the concrete ground, no care that there were chairs that you could’ve sat on. “Just looking at the stars, needed a reminder that not everything is drenched with blood,” you murmured.

Ghost was silent for a few seconds before he grunted and sat down on the concrete, joining you. “Guess the stars, they are pretty.”

That was the last thing he said before silence washed over you two, a familiar occurrence. Both of you had at least ten years in the military, having seen your fair share of traumatic things. So you two often gravitated towards each other, two broken soldiers seeking each other out in hopes you’ll bring out the light in each other.

“Though, you know, you’re more peaceful than the stars ever could be,” Ghost said after a few minutes, his gruff voice so soft that it was barely a whisper. He turned his head to look at you, his piercing brown eyes boring into you, taking in your brown skin that had a few old battle scars on it, your brown eyes which twinkled in the moonlight. “Lad, you know that, don’t you?”

You turned to look at him, raising a brow. “I’m just a soldier, Ghost.”

“Simon.”

No one on the Task Force ever called him “Simon”, except for Price, but even then Price didn’t call him by it that much. And most of the time when others tried to call him by first name, he’d correct them with his call sign. But you… You got to call him “Simon” now.

“Simon,” you said, memorizing the way it rolled off your tongue like it belonged there. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m surely not more peaceful than the stars. They’re breathtaking and a symbol of all that’s left to explore, a symbol of a vast universe. They’ve been written about in poems for centuries to evoke feelings of content and beauty.”

Ghost scooted closer on the concrete to you, his warm gloved hand resting on your thigh. “You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice full of awe. “The way you move, the way you laugh, the way you don’t take any bullshit. It’s breathtaking, absolutely mesmerizing. Sure, the stars are evidence of a vast universe, but who needs a vast universe to explore when there’s you?”

His hand on your thigh tightened and he pulled you closer, so close you were almost sitting on his lap. It was enough to get your heart racing.

“What good are the stars and the moon if they’re not you? They can’t make me feel safe like you can, they can’t make me laugh. They can’t complete me.” His other hand languidly moved along your side, up your neck and jaw until it cupped your cheek, so gentle and tender. “The stars are beautiful, but there’s nothing more beautiful than a good man, a man who knows of war and bloodshed and still fights for the greater good. And that’s you. You could’ve retired by now, settled down, but you’re here. You’re here with me, along side all of us, getting your hands dirty with blood and ashes so that those back home can sleep well at night.”

Your eyes fluttered at his words, your body melting against his touch. “Simon, I’m not all you make me up to be. I’m not some perfect human being.”

Ghost nodded, leaning in until his forehead pressed against yours. “I know. And that what makes me love you.”

His confession took the breath out of your lungs, your eyes wide as you stared into his.

“These past few months that we have grown closer have only made me fall in love with you,” he whispered, his lips so close but so far away due to his balaclava and mask. “And I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, please tell me to stop, to go away, and I will.”

“Don’t,” you replied, shaking your head when he wanted to pull away, your hand reaching for his, which still cupped your cheek. “Don’t leave, don’t go. I’ve fallen in love with you too.”

Your heart ached for him, your mind never strayed from thoughts of him. Of his laugh, his corny jokes, the way his presence filled up a room. On the surface, you thought your want—need—for him to be by your side was because he was your friend, the only one who took one look at your broken, closed off soul and said he’d stay by your side, but you knew that it was deeper than that. You were just as entranced by him as he was by you.

“Stay with me,” you begged softly.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be,” Ghost said, no longer trying to pull away from you. His eyes closed as he pressed his forehead against yours just the tiniest bit harder. “As long as you'll have me, I’m yours.”

“Then let me be your stars and the moon.”

“Be my universe.”

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated!

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost cod #call of duty #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #my writing #fanfic #fluff #ghost x male reader #cod x male reader #cod modern warefare 2 #cod #cod x reader #desi!reader #:)

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badgerbl00d · 2 years

Text

one piece boys being overprotective...

☆ characters: sir crocodile, dracule mihawk, captain smoker

☆ up next: drinking with the one piece boys pt. 2

☆ summary: how each of these characters comes to your aid and save u

☆ a/n: definitely want to make more parts to this.. please feel free to make suggestions! enjoy ;3

crocodile:

“Meet me there tonight,” Crocodile yawned, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You closed your eyes as he tucked you back into bed, gently covering you in a mass of blankets and sheets.

Sleep overtook you as you watched him put on his coat and slip out of the door, smiling to yourself as you noticed he’d left his watch on your nightstand.

The bed he’d bought you was unbelievably comfortable and dangerously warm. The biting cold desert nights were remedied with the matching duvet and silk pillow sheets he’d gifted you and the only thing that made sleeping better was when he’d stay the night.

But you understood the nature of your relationship- if you could even call it that.

The affection and softness he showed you were for no one else to know about, and that much had been made clear.

Yet, you couldn’t find yourself worrying too much. Crocodile was, of course, one of many benefactors whose attention you’d grabbed and you were overtly aware of the effect you had on him.

You’d meet him at any bar he asked you to, take care of any business he needed handled, and when he called, you’d come.

But as much as you knew you weren’t entirely his, he knew he wasn’t entirely yours.

The clock read 9:00 when you decided to get ready.

A sleek black dress with a plunging neckline that hugged you where your flesh curved.

Glossy black heels, extending your long legs and paired with a red lip.

You grabbed your wallet and pulled your coat over your shoulders.

It smelled like Crocodile. Expensive cologne and cigars. Last time you’d worn it some wine had spilled and he offered to have it washed. It carried the clean scent of lemongrass that all his clothes smelled like.

You couldn’t help but take a deep breath before stepping out.

The bar was busier than usual, there was even a jazz band playing. The music was soft and cool, you made a mental note to ask them for a business card, as you were sure this was the kind of thing your lover would love to have at his next party.

Sauntering towards your usual spot at the bar, you took the only open seat next to a blond gentleman who was chatting with the bartender.

He had on a blue suit and an obnoxiously loud laugh.

The bartender made his way over to you, “Anything I can start you off with?”

“Just a martini please,” you asked.

“Fufufu~ Put it on my tab,” the man next to you said to the bartender.

You looked over at him, smiling, “Thank you. Do we know each other?”

“Not yet,” he said, he wore sunglasses, but you could feel him looking you up and down and suddenly felt very vulnerable, “But I’d like to.”

Something was off about him. You could sense something predatory in his voice and the hairs on the back of your neck started to rise.

But Crocodile would be there soon and you’d been looking forward to your martini so you decided to at least finish the drink before finding some bad excuse to leave.

You sipped on your drink and politely entertained his odd questions, like Where did you like to shop? What fabric feels best on your skin? and What perfume were you wearing?

The longer you spoke with him, the more you felt an intense and unnerving hunger invading him.

“What brings you here?” you asked, finally reaching your limit to his never ending questions.

“Just waiting for an old friend,” he answered, amused by you.

Silence followed your question. You’d finished your drink a while ago so there was nothing left to do but sit and wait.

You could feel the man’s eyes watching you, almost as though he were trying to look through your skin.

You heard the door of the bar swing open and turned around.

Relief washed over you as you saw Crocodile walk in, extremely tired and in need of a drink and some sloppy kisses. You’d provide him readily with both.

He walked over to you smiling and placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, “Sorry about the wait, Sweetheart.”

“Pretty girl you’ve caught,” your ‘friend’ said, the odd lilt in his voice setting you on edge.

You watched Crocodile’s entire demeanor shift in an instant.

His eyes narrowed like a cat’s and there was a shift of energy in the room. It filled with tension and sand from floor to ceiling.

“Doflamingo,” Crocodile stated.

“She’s kept me in good company,” he mused, gesturing towards you, “Clever girl, and such a sweetheart. Didn’t even recognize me. Isn’t that cute?”

“Y/n, we’re leaving.”

You nodded and got up, making your way towards him.

“Ah-” you yelped as a sharp slice of pain cut through your wrists as you felt yourself jolted a few feet backwards, your back hitting against his clothed chest.

“Surely, Crocodile, you’re not too vain to share?”

You felt the air get sucked out of the room, a wave of anxiety flooding through every living thing in that bar.

Awkwardly yet quickly the bar's patrons left, running once out of the confines of the four walls holding the two warlords.

Sweat dripped down your body and your breathing was starting to become panicked.

The pressure along your wrists was getting worse and you had no idea what was happening. A thin line of blood dribbled down your forearms as your hands were raised above your head as though pulled by some invisible string.

A calloused hand pressed your face against his own, and you froze as you felt Doflamingo’s tongue

“I suggest you end your little game now Doflamingo,” Crocodile said, his voice calmer than he looked, “Out of the two of you, there’s only one I can dry out, and it isn’t the one covered in sweat.”

You felt grains of sand rubbing against your skin and looked down to see your assailant's leg was getting dried out.

“Fufufufu~ too much pride to share, but not enough to avoid jealousy.”

With a grunt of dissatisfaction the hold on your wrists ceased and your fall to the floor was stopped by surprisingly soft sand.

Crocodile helped you up, wiping away the blood from your wrists and tearing his pocket square in half to tie around each of your wrists.

He helped you up with a shocking delicacy, and walked you out of the bar. Sending in Mr. 1 to finish taking care of the situation for him.

A car picked you up and your lover tended to your wounds. Brushing your hair out of your face and letting you change into his shirt. Your clothes were torn and stained with blood and dirt.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he assured you.

You laughed, “That’s okay, I did like the coat though. It smelled like you.”

He sighed, rubbing circles on your back.

You’d be the death of him.

“Let me take you back to yours,” he said, pressing kisses to your head, “I- I’d like to see that you’re alright.. and I believe I left my watch there.”

mihawk:

You rubbed your husband’s back in an attempt to console him as you both watched the Red Haired pirates unload their ship on Kuraigana Island.

“You know this means we’ll get no sleep for the next week,” Mihawk said, “And that we’ll be in dire need of food and a maid by the time they leave.”

You laughed, “But it gets so lonely here! You wouldn’t know because you’re always leaving, but I get lonely and bored. And I’ve heard they like a drink or two.”

“Or two.”

The two of you sat and observed as they finished unloading and docking the ship, and you pressed an outburst of kisses to his head, tugging your hand away from his. Laughing at his reluctance to greet his unwanted guests.

“How are ya’ Sweetheart?” Shanks hugged you and pressed a big kiss onto your cheek, earning a glare from your husband.

“I have one for you too, Hawkeye,” he said, approaching the swordsman who reluctantly allowed himself to be embraced.

You greeted the rest of the crew, and only Beckman had the decency to withhold a kiss.

The drinking had started before the sun had a chance to set. By early dusk, with golden rays still streaking the sky, cups were being filled. To your pleasant surprise Mihawk allowed himself slight indulgence and was portioning out a pint for himself.

You’d started off well, just a glass of wine. But by your second you were already messily kissing your husband- much to his (well hid) enjoyment.

Since you weren’t a pirate or a powerholder you rarely accompanied Mihawk on his expeditions, they were too dangerous. And though you couldn’t complain about the castle you were living in, you could definitely complain about the boredom.

There was plenty to do, you’d planted a garden and the island cats had taken a liking to you. You had an enormous library and a beautiful kitchen.

Yet you found yourself incredibly happy to be here, partying with pirates who had stories and scars and were loud and boisterous and dangerous and exciting.

So when the crew’s sniper suggested shots you were the first to participate.

Mihawk stayed seated in the back and gave you a nod of encouragement

“He does leave me here with his wines all day,” you joked, earning an eruption of laughter from the men. “She’s drinking you dry, Hawkeye!” one yelled.

“Oh I most definitely am,” you teased, winking at your husband, who choked on his drink. Another fit of laughter seized the pirates, especially the captain.

“I like her,” he said, taking a seat next to the swordsman.

“How about a drinking game,” one of the men yelled.

A chorus of yeses followed.

“Rules are simple, player says heads or tails, if their guess is right the coin goes to the next person, if the guess is wrong you remove one article of clothing and take a shot.”

The sound of a sword unsheathing silenced the entire party.

“Might wanna adjust some rules there,” Shanks laughed.

“I-if the guess is wrong you take a shot.”

“One more sweetheart,” Shanks laughed, “C’mon!”

You nodded eagerly, firmly gripping the overflowing shot glass in your hand, the bitter brown liquid sloshing over the rim.

You choked down your sixth shot of the night, biting back the urge to gag. You weren’t sure what you’d just swallowed but its effects were nearly immediate.

The sound of your heart pounding throughout your body was making you dizzy, and the sound of waves crashing led to a subtle nausea spreading across you.

The sun had long set and night covered the island. You’d all been partying and drinking for hours.

“Another!” you slurred, grabbing onto the captain’s arm.

The crew laughed and Shanks poured you another shot, bringing it to your lips for you.

“That’s enough,” you felt a strong hand wrap around your waist, and saw Mihawk pull the shot glass away from your lips.

“‘m perfec’ly fine,” you insisted, hiccupping.

“I can tell,” he mused, “Let’s go sit for a while.”

Mihawk held a water bottle to your mouth, wiping the spilling water off your lips with his thumb.

“Tired, cariño?”

You nodded, bringing his arms down around your waist.

You were undeniably adorable with pouty lips and warm, rosy cheeks.

But he knew drunk pirates and didn’t think you needed to be surrounded by them any longer. He lifted you up onto his lap, where you found a worthy pillow in his chest, bringing your arms to rest around his neck.

Mihawk started the walk up to your room, to get you ready for bed and you half-heartedly waved goodbye to the loud and laughing entourage of pirates in your backyard.

You’d have a terrible headache in the morning and be hungrier than usual, and your husband would bring you medicine and breakfast in bed.

smoker:

Vice Captain Smoker was a serious man who was both dedicated and loyal to his work. Morally and legally he upheld his reputation and duty as a successful marine and had a generally better record than his subordinates, peers, and supervisors.

Loguetown’s reputation had been single handedly transformed under his supervision.

More often than not the man’s mind was occupied with quotas and deadlines, meetings with higher ups he was dreading, and whipping the lower ranked marines into shape.

But Friday nights when Tashigi would stay late so he could leave early, there was one other thing he allowed himself to think about.

You.

He wouldn’t admit it to himself and it was more of a subconscious attraction than a spoken one but every Friday, without fail, he’d stop by the bakery you worked at to get a latté.

You had found yourself looking forward to Fridays. The city was surprisingly quiet those nights despite it being the start of the weekend and by the time the Captain came around you were getting ready to close up shop.

He was easily noticed for several reasons, mainly because he was well known (and feared) but also because he always made conversation with you. The first few times you were slightly taken aback at how chatty he was, he was known to be a man of few words and it unnerved you to see him so talkative.

By the fourth cup of coffee you’d served him you saw him as a regular.

In reality, Smoker himself was surprised at his change in demeanor when he was around you.

As though someone were feeding him lines, he found himself able to just talk.

About the weather and the city, but also to ask you about yourself.

After a month or so of visiting you he found himself craving coffee on Mondays. And eventually Tuesdays and Thursdays, and sometimes- when he was in a particularly good mood- he’d even go on Wednesday mornings to pick up coffee for the entire department.

And you, increasingly eager to see your favorite regular, would always have his order ready when he arrived.

A time or two you’d even brushed hands when passing the coffee and in both of you a feeling of nervousness and pleasure was revealed on your skin through a light pink blush.

It was a Tuesday evening, right as you began closing that a new customer came in. He asked for a cake and said he’d need it by morning.

You explained that it wouldn’t be possible, as you were closing now and he was welcome to put the order in the following morning.

“I’ll pay five times whatever you’re selling this stuff for,” he offered, “My captain likes sweets and I was just let on the crew and he gave me this errand and said I had to-”

You interrupted his rambling with a nod and said you’d do it for five time’s the asking price.

฿550 for a single cake wasn’t an opportunity you’d pass up, and you figured you’d compensate for the lack of sleep tomorrow.

You’d stayed up the entire night working tirelessly to make sure the cake was ready. When you say to take a “short break” before opening, you’d passed out on the counter, forgetting to set your alarm.

You heard soft knocking on the window and were jolted awake. Rubbing the exhaustion out of your eyes you looked over to see Smoker puffing his cigar outside your shop, a concerned look on his face.

You got up to unlock the door and let him in.

The sun wasn’t up yet. The clock read 5:00.

“You’re here early,” you said.

“Yes.. Well, I walk this way to my office and I saw you sleeping. Are you alright?”

You nodded.

“You’re sure? Did you sleep here? Do you need anything?”

Your eyes widened and the color of your cheeks conceded your embarrassment.

“No! Yes, I stayed in the shop late,” you explained, “A customer needed a cake ready by this morning.”

Smoker nodded.

“Thanks for asking.”

He nodded again.

You started getting his coffee ready as you talked.

“ Don’t those take a long time to make? Do you usually do that? Stay late, I mean.” he gestured towards the display of pastries.

“Not usually, no,” you laughed, at his onslaught of questions, “But he made a fantastic offer. Five times the asking price! He said something about his Captain. I think he was a pirate. I didn’t pay much attention after he offered the money.”

Smoker laughed.

“Oh,” you added, “Please don’t arrest him until after he pays.”

You liked the sound of his laughter and joined him in giggling.

“Any requests for your latté art today?”

“Surprise me.”

You handed him his coffee and refused his payment, assuring him he was a regular customer and it was quite alright.

“Then let me use this to buy you a coffee.”

You smiled and assured him you had all the coffee and sweets you could possibly need.

“But if you’ll let me borrow that bill for just a moment, I’ll leave you something.”

Smoker looked confused, but had no hesitation in offering you the money.

“This is probably the only way I can get you to keep your money.”

You took out a pen and scribbled down your phone number on the bill.

He blushed as you handed it back to him, gently folding it into his pocket.

“If.. you aren’t busy tonight” he started, hesitating, “I’d love to take you out to dinner.”

You looked up at him.

“I’m not busy!” you nodded eagerly, “I’d love to!”

“Is 7 alright then?”

“Perfect,” you said, “Just call me.”

Smoker walked out, smiling more than he thought he ever had,

It was cold out and he went to take a sip of his coffee, he thought to himself that it tasted better than usual.

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channiespokemon · 3 months

Text

Just a few more minutes (Bang Chan x reader)

Bang Chan x reader

you/your pronouns, reader calls Chan Chris, Chris calls reader baby and babygirl

author note: This is my first time posting my work on tumblr! I am new to posting on here, so please bear with me with formatting, etc. This is super self-indulgent (I know, I'm sorry). Hope you enjoy!! <3

“Let me wash your hair,” Chris says behind you. You’re sitting in the bathtub, your favorite form of self-care. Your back is to his chest, and you feel it rumble as he talks.

“Just a few more minutes,” you say. Moments like these are your favorite, and despite being so domestic, these sweet, fleeting moments where the both of you can forget about work and other responsibilities are some of your favorites.

Chris has been extremely busy at work lately as the cycle of preparing for comeback is drawing near. He’s been staying longer in the studio, and most nights you’re sound asleep when he finally trudges through the door to your shared apartment in the wee hours of the morning. Even though he stays super busy, he always makes time for you to have a night together at least once a week.

This week, however, had been particularly rough. Work was exceptionally demanding, requiring you to work extra hours in order to meet an important deadline. And Chris wasn’t home to comfort you, so you’re really trying to hold it all in. You don’t want Chris to know you’re upset because you don’t want your precious quality time taken away by emotions that will still be here tomorrow. Instead, you just want your normal bath and cuddles when you lay down for bed.

Chris, though, is keen to notice when your mood changes. “You’re awfully quiet tonight. Something on your mind?” he asks as he strokes your arm with the tips of his fingers.

You raise to sit up fully, bringing your knees to your chest. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“Come on, I know you better than that. Tell me, baby, so I can make you feel better, yeah?”

Tears threaten your eyes, but you take a few breaths to keep your emotions in check. You should have known Chris would press for information. After all, he knows you like the back of his hand. “I’m okay,” you insist, so he concedes and leans you back ever so slightly so he can start on your hair.

“Have I ever told you just how beautiful you look like this?” he asks as he lathers the shampoo in your hair.

You let out a low chuckle. “How am I beautiful with no makeup on and suds in my hair?”

“Because you’re beautiful. I’d still think you’re beautiful even if you stepped in dog poop.”

You laugh out loud this time, and Chris smiles fondly. Out of all the music in the world and the songs he produces, your laugh is his favorite sound.

“How was your week, baby?” Chris asks, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Tears flow freely from your eyes, and you sob as he tries to rinse your hair. “Babygirl, what’s the matter?” He starts to panic as sobs wrack your body with no sign of slowing down. “You’re okay, you’re okay,” he says repeatedly, testing out his best soothing voice to see if it will calm you down.

“I…just had…the…the worst week,” you say in between sobs. “And you weren’t here to comfort me.”

You didn’t mean it to sound so bitter, and the last thing you wanted was to get in the way of his work, but dammit you really needed him there. You miss the way his face drops, a deep crease forming between his brows as he silently chastises himself for not being present.

“Well, I’m here now,” Chris says, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s get dried off and order something for dinner. And I’ll stay home tomorrow to make it up to you, yeah?”

He rubs your back gently and moves to get out, but you stop him. “Just a few more minutes.”

#bang chan #bang chris #chan #skz bang chan #skz #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids

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angryschnauzer · 2 years

Text

On Your Knees

Summary: As general maid for 221 Baker Street, you assist most of the residents. However on one quiet night when most of them are out, only one resident returns to his home... a little worse for wear. He thanks you in the easiest way possible.

Fandoms: Enola Holmes 2, Henry Cavill

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, Smut, NSFW, Drunk Sherlock, Oral Sex (Female Receiving).

Here is my masterlist and AO3

Wordcount: 1854

I do not run a tag list, instead please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications, you’ll then get an alert each time i post something new. My AO3 also has my entire back catalogue of stories (going back to 2013).

On Your Knees

The cold wind rattled the fragile glass in the frame, a chill advancing into your room even further as the dark night continued. The building of 221 Baker Street was colder than usual, most of the apartments empty for the night due to various parties and festive events happening this time of year meaning the tenants wouldn’t be back until the morning.

As the scullery maid of 221 Baker Street you were in and out most of the apartments each day, tending to the fireplaces and delivering meals if required. The housekeeper who supervised you telling you where to go and what to do wasn’t around either, though her instruction was rarely needed anymore, you knew the routines of all of the tenants and could read the calendar hung in the kitchen showing who was home and who wasn’t.

At that moment the wind rushed against the window again and you pulled your dressing gown further around your body, shivering beneath your quilt. Glancing at your own laundry you’d hand washed that evening, your bloomers hung on the wooden airer where the chimney breast rose through the building. With every pair you owned doing little to dry in the cold attic room, you cursed your schedule for not giving you time to do it earlier in the day when the sun had been coming through the window. Now you just had your thin nightgown and woollen stockings to keep you warm beneath your dressing gown.

You were drawn from your thoughts by the sound of movement in the hallway far below your room. Freezing you wracked your brain to try to remember if any of the tenants were due back tonight, but none were. Through the eerie quiet of the house there was another bump and a quiet curse. You reached for the large floor brush that still sat beside the door to your room with its dustpan, lifting the brush as a weapon as you opened the door and carefully stepped out onto the old floorboards to peer down through the stairwell. Clinging to your brush you leant forwards over the bannister and peered through the darkness, a single lamp in the hall four floors down barely illuminating the entryway before you suddenly saw a shadow move. Letting out a small gasp you clamped your hand over your mouth as you watched, but that tension evaporated when you recognised the wide shoulders and curly dark hair of the tenant in apartment B;

“Detective Holmes!” you called out, the figure below swivelling rapidly before spinning and looking up.

“Ah. There you are…” a soft hiccup followed as he swayed on his feet.

“I’ll be right down Sir”

Just last week Mr Holmes’ sister helped him into his apartment having had too many drinks at the pub, and it would seem he’d done the same again tonight. Padding on stocking clad feet you descended the stairs quickly, soon arriving in the hallway as Mr Holmes swayed a little on his feet;

“Can i help you to your apartment Sir?”

“Oh that would be *hiccup* wonderful Darling”

Hooking your arm around his back and pulling his own arm over your shoulders, you started to help him up the stairs one at a time, before arriving at his apartment.

“I have a… I have my… dammit” Mr Holmes cursed as he fumbled for his key, and as you glanced down you could see that the bunch of keys in his pocket had caught on the fabric and were stuck. Without even thinking you batted his hand away and slid your much smaller hand into his pocket, moving the keys around until they were no longer snagged on the fabric. You tried not to think of the heat radiating from Mr Holmes thigh, barely separated from your touch by a thin layer of cotton, nor the firm muscle beneath the fabric that flexed as your delicate fingers brushed against it. He answered your silent thoughts with a grunt, before you pulled the keys out and unlocked the door, all whilst he had his arm around your shoulder.

His body was firm and heavy, a welcome weight against your cold frame, and as he swayed you did so too, before he finally pulled his arm free of your shoulders and started to shuck off his coat and scarf, struggling as he went about the task.

“Mr Holmes, Sir, please let me help…”

He swung around, shrugging his shoulders, his coat now held on his arms around his elbows, his wide shoulders only accentuated by the white shirt and silk waistcoat that clung to his torso. Whilst distracted you didn’t spot his flailing, one stray arm of his coat socking you around the chin, and although not hurting you, caught you by surprise and knocked you back where you lost your footing and fell on your bottom.

“Ta-da! Done it!” he proclaimed proudly, before spinning around; “Where did you…?”

Climbing to your feet you took the bundle of coat from the floor;

“Ah, there you are Darling, didn’t get you did i?”

“Just a little Mr Holmes. Let me hang this up for you”

As you hung the coat onto the hook near the door you heard a gasp and a soft thud, turning to see Sherlock on his knees before you;

“Mr Holmes!”

“My Darling, i am so sorry, so very very sorry”

He had big puppy dog eyes as he looked up at you, his drunken state obviously accentuating his normally muted emotions; I should have been more careful… a heinous crime I have committed to sock a young lady around with my coat, please… please forgive me…”

You tried very hard not to laugh, for this was so far removed from what Mr Holmes was like normally, but also it stirred something within you, to see this big man on his knees before you, his face mere inches from your stomach.

“Please Darling…” He edged closer, wrapping his arms around your bottom and pressed his cheek to your stomach; “Please forgive me…”

At first you were frozen with fear, this was not only completely out of character for Mr Holmes, but wholly inappropriate, but the long days and lack of sleep perhaps clouded your judgement and you cautiously rested your hand on the top of his head;

“It’s… it’s ok Mr Homes, Sir”

He turned his head and peered up at you;

“Let me make it up to you”

You could only watch in shock as he moved his hands to rest them on your stocking clad ankles, before he started to inch those warm palms up your legs. When he reached your knees his fingertips rubbed soft circles against the backs of your thighs, your nightgown bunching at his wrists. For the whole time you kept eye contact, unable to draw your gaze away until his fingertips reached the top of your woollen stockings and he let out a small grunt of appreciation. He ducked his head forwards and pressed a single kiss to the skin just above the tied ribbons that secured the stockings in place.

“You smell divine” he muttered softly, inhaling deeply before he bunched your nightgown up in one hand and pressed his nose to the apex of your thighs.

“Oh! Sir!”

He pressed a kiss to your soft mound, before his fingers stroked softly along your seam. Never breaking eye contact he lifted one leg over his shoulder, opening you up like a spring blossom. A warm puff of breath warmed your skin before he leant forwards and his tongue found your silken pearl. If it wasn’t for his firm shoulder your leg was hooked over you would have damn near fallen to the floor, you did lose your footing a little, your back falling to rest against the door behind you and your hands found their way to his dark curls.

The slight tug on his hair seemed to spur him on, his wicked tongue parting your folds, and the appreciative murmur that came from his muffled lips only excited you more. Sherlock knew exactly what to do, and you can’t believe you had never even considered that this fine specimen of a man would be skilled in the art of lovemaking, but because of his cold demeanour it just hadn’t been something you’d thought of.

You tried to concentrate on the look of bliss on his face, but the way his long tongue was pushing at your secret canal, his nose rubbing against your pearl, it was almost too distracting. Your head slowly fell back until it rested on the wooden door behind you, your eyes fluttering shut as pleasure grew in the pit of your belly. It was only when he moved a little, his lips finding your pearl again and he slid a thick finger into your tight channel did your eyes spring open;

“Oh lord!”

A quiet chuckle came from between your thighs, looking down to see the mischief in his eyes and he winked at you just as he slid a second finger in alongside the first. He crooked them just so as he moved them slowly but firmly, stroking at your velveteen walls, his lips and tongue increasing their efforts until you felt a surge of pleasure, a white hot fire bursting forth from your core and you climaxed with a loud cry of his name;

“Sherlock!”

As your body trembled he slowed his fingers, before pulling them free and holding them up to the faint candle light, inspecting the stickiness on them with a learned curiosity, before he sucked them both clean. He looked up at you as you trembled above him, slipping your leg off of his shoulder and he went to rock back onto his feet, but unfortunately losing his footing and topping back onto his behind;

“Oouf!”

As your nightdress fell back around your ankles and on unsteady legs you rushed forwards to help him to his feet, his eyes a little glazed from his drunkenness. He was like a lead weight, swaying on his feet until you managed to half carry half drag him to the chaise lounge and unceremoniously drop him on the soft cushion, watching as he twisted his body until he was on his back;

“What was i saying? I’m sure i should have thanked you for something…” he was already nodding off to sleep, oblivious to the rich smell of your sex now hanging in the room.

You let out a sigh before turning and to the quiet background noise of his snores you lit a fire in the hearth to warm the room. Making sure a heavy yew log was placed in the centre of the grate to ensure a long slow burn, you set the fireguard in place. Spotting his long blue dressing gown hanging over a chair, you carefully laid it over his sleeping form, and with one last glance back at him you exited the apartment. At least with the fire in his apartment now going a sliver of warmth would seep into your room that cold night.

#sherlock holmes x reader #enola holmes movie #henry holmes #henry cavill

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markhoffmans-certified-slut · 7 months

Text

Ghostface | Pt.1

Pairing: Ghostface x female!reader

Prompt/summary: Being home alone was supposed to be the highlight of your week, but instead of a relaxing night off from work with the house to yourself, you’re tormented by a mysterious masked figure. Thinking that you were going to find yourself dead, you did what the man said in hopes of ending up alive. Instead you find yourself in a whirlwind of emotions with the man that claims he knows you.

Word count: 4.2K

Warnings/contents: Smut: Fingering and oral, unprotected sex. Strong language.

Notes: Unrealistic, just how I like my smut. Is this boring or have I proofread and changed things too many times that now I hate it?

You can read part 2 here!

<>~<>~<>

The actress on the television screamed loudly, waking you from your light slumber. With a yawn, you stretched your arms out above your head and barely made the effort to peek open your eyes. The room was completely dark other than the light from the television. The original Halloween movies had been on your ‘to-watch list’ for quite some time now, and you decided to take your first day off in a few weeks to finally sit down, relax, and watch them.

Unfortunately, working so many consecutive hours had made you so exhausted that you fell asleep near the beginning of the movie.

With a sleepy groan, you sat up and looked at the mess that was on the coffee table in front of you. An opened, half-empty can of soda sat beside empty take-out containers of leftover food from the other night. You stood, grabbing the trash and bringing it to the empty garbage can in the kitchen and headed for the sink to wash your hands in cold water, hoping that it may wake you up.

That was how that worked, right?

Your phone started to ring on the kitchen counter; you had left it there earlier in the night, knowing that nothing was going to distract you from the movie series. You assumed that it was simply your mother, calling in to check on the house and yourself. It was only 9 o’clock at night and you knew that she was worried about you. Despite being a fully grown adult yourself, this was the first time that you had ever been alone for so long.

However, it was hard to enjoy your week alone in the house when she was always calling.

By time that you dried your hands and made it to the counter, the call had ended. An unknown number popped up on your screen, along with a few messages from your friend about this guy that she was interested in. You leaned against the counter, clicking her messages and going to reply to her ramblings: “The way his hair smells is heavenly, (y/n)” was the last text you had received.

You chuckled and quickly typed out a response: “Why do you even know that?”

Before you could even turn your phone off, bubbles on her end of the chat thread popped up: “We’re studying together tonight, remember?” (You hadn’t) “I need you! Where have you been??”

You replied quick: “Asleep. Work has been draining me. I say just go for it.” You watched the bubbles in a trance, but before her message came through you were cut out of your thoughts by the sight of your own face when the screen darkened as another call came in. Your eyes darted to the top of the screen, expecting to see your mothers contact photo, but instead you frowned.

“No called ID?” You asked aloud, though you assumed that it would stop in a second; you had been getting a lot of spam calls recently and that was often how they came through to you and then left a voicemail about your crippling debt— that you didn’t have. When the call didn’t stop after a few rings, you decided to answer it, knowing they’d leave you a voicemail anyways; maybe telling them to fuck off would get you off their list for being rude at whatever time it was there. “What?” You spoke plainly, assuming that a computer like voice of some overworked and underpaid person was going to be on the other end of the line.

Instead, you were met with a distorted male voice that you had never heard before.

“Hello, (y/n).” You frowned again, wondering if one of your friends was trying to play a prank on you; it was the most logical thought you could come up with at the moment.

“Who is this?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.” You paused for a moment, wracking your brain for one of your friends that would want to do this at 9 o’clock at night on your only night off in weeks.

“Randy?”

“No.”

“Stu?”

“Nope.”

“Tatum? Sidney?” The sound of them tutting their tongue on the other end cut you off.

“I said you get three guesses.”

“And I was wrong on all of them, I obviously don’t even know you. So are you going to tell me who you are or what?” You asked irritably. You didn’t want to play any of their games tonight.

“I was going to, but now you’ve broken the rules.”

“Alright, well I’m gonna hang up then. Call me back when you decide to lose the voice.” You went to bring your phone away from your ear before the voice spoke again, this time in a softer, smoother tone.

“Hey— wait. Don’t hang up.” You sighed and walked towards the sofa again. “What are you doing all alone tonight?” You were going to answer before you hesitated, even stopping your movement.

How did he know you were alone? It had to be someone you were close to. It couldn’t be your friend— she was with that guy. Nothing would keep her from him. Mustering your bravest tone, you spoke again.

“I’ll tell you when you tell me who the fuck you are.” Again, the stranger tutted their tongue.

“Someone sure doesn’t have any manners.” Your phone buzzed against your face from the messages that your friend was sending you, but you were far too distracted to think about replying right now. “Shouldn’t you be nicer to people that you don’t know?” When you were quiet, the stranger spoke again. “Let’s play a game.”

“What is this— Saw?” You scoffed. “I’m not going to wake up in some death trap am I? I’d like to keep my skull in-tact, not ripped apart by some skull-crusher-doodad-two-hundred-fifty-three.” A chuckle emitted from the stranger— it made your arm break out in goosebumps.

Who was this prick?

“I want you to answer a few simple questions. If you win, you get a prize. If I win, I do.”

“What’s my prize?”

“You’ll find out if you win.” Before you could speak, the stranger cut you off. “Question one: who was Dr. Lawrence locked in the bathroom with in the first Saw movie.” With a sigh, you decided to play along. What was the worst that happened? It was probably just some fifteen year old kid and his friends doing prank calls to whoever answered.

“Adam.”

“Very good.” The stranger praised you. “Who created Pet Cemetery?”

“Stephen King,” you answered as if the person on the other line should have given you something harder. “How many questions is there going to be?”

“Almost there.” He spoke. “When did the original Halloween come out?” You glanced towards the movie case that was sitting on the television stand; how would he know if you cheated?

Instead, you trusted your memory.

“1978…?” Things were quiet for a moment; did you get it wrong? You were about to reach for the case when the stranger spoke up again.

“You sure know your movies.”

“They were easy questions.”

“Bonus round: where am I?” He spoke, ignoring you.

You scoffed.

“Let me think— your house?” Your eyes rolled, but he spoke again— this time in a tone that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly got an intense feeling of pure dread that only the horror of the unknown could duplicate.

“No. Try again.”

“A creepy alleyway?”

“Closer than that.” You swallowed hard and peeked out of the door to your backyard. It was pitch black and the reflection from the television was the only thing you could see. “Warmer.” Your breath audibly hitched in your throat.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“Closer than that.” Wordlessly, your mouth dry and cottony, you stood and crept towards the backdoor. You flipped the light on and looked around. “I said that I was closer than that.” You were afraid to turn your back on the window, but the sudden fear that he was right behind you crept up your spine; you eyed your reflection in the window and tried seeing behind you in case he popped out of nowhere.

“What is this? Good luck guessing exactly what I’m doing to try and freak me out?” The person on the other end of the line didn’t respond, but you knew that he was still there. You clenched your jaw and turned, looking around your perfectly quiet house. Your eyes locked onto the pantry that was in the kitchen.

There was no way that he was in here, right? You would have known.

But your nap. You were asleep for the good half of two hours. He could have snuck into your house without you even knowing.

But wouldn’t you be able to hear him clearly if he was in the house let alone in the pantry?

Still, worry itched at the back of your throat as you took a few tentative steps towards the walk-in pantry. You had to know.

Your hands were clammy as you reached for the handle and quickly slammed it open. A breath left you when there was nothing there but a few bags of cereal, chips, and dry foods in there. Your body started to relax before a devious chuckle made your entire being stiffen once again.

“Try again.”

“If you’re in my fucking house I’m going to kill you.” You spoke, knowing that the only thing you really had to defend yourself was all the way upstairs by your bed. A metal baseball bat that you had always dreamed of slamming into someones kneecaps.

But he wouldn’t know you were defenseless, would he?

“How will I give you your prize if you kill me?” The strangers voice was patronizing.

“What if I don’t want what you have to give me?”

“You don’t get to choose.” Things were quiet for a moment before you spoke again.

“Are you in a closet?”

“No.”

“Under a bed?”

“No.” Your eyes landed on the basement door; it was mostly for storage, but it was unfinished and it had always scared you. Ever since you were little you’d hated going down there.

“Are you in the basement?”

“No.”

“You wouldn’t tell me if I guessed right, would you?” Your voice was low, almost breathless now.

“No.”

“I don’t want to play your games anymore.”

“You don’t get that choice either.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“You failed that game before; do you really want to again?”

“I’m gonna call the cops.”

“They won’t be here by the time I get to you.”

“What do you want?” You asked, trying not to sound desperate as your voice strained.

“You.” His words were simple and completely unhelpful.

“Me? To what? Be dead? Strung up like a Halloween prop?” The stranger hummed for a moment as if he was thinking.

“Close enough.”

“Why don’t you just come out and kill me already? You know nobody else is home.”

“I know everyone is gone for the week.” Was all he said.

“Do I know you?”

“Yes.”

“Then what’s to stop me from going to the cops when I find out exactly who you are— because I will find out.”

“If you do that, I’ll have to kill you— and I don’t want to do that. I always have my eyes on you, (y/n). Always.” The floorboards in the other room by the front door creaked, and you couldn’t help but feel as if that was on purpose. You swallowed the lump in your throat, grasping one hand against the flat wall and creeping towards the hallway. Nobody was in there.

“Would you just come out? Please? I’d like to think that I deserve to see you if you’re going to kill me.”

“Not tonight. If you behave, maybe never.”

“There’s nothing I can do anyways. You know I don’t have anything to hurt you with and you’re clearly ready for anything I could possibly do. Just come out.” Things were silent for a moment, so you spoke again. “Please? I… I guess I’m ready for my prize. I won, right?” You looked around the room when floorboards creaked again, but you were alone. Things were deadly quiet in the house. “Hello?” You had previously heard quiet breathing on the other end of the line: now, there was nothing.

You pulled your phone back from your face and sighed when you saw it light up to the text messages from your friend. Your legs were frozen to the ground as you shoved your phone into your pocket. You faced a doorway, but your back was to another.

Somehow, speaking to the man made everything less scary. At least you would have had a better chance to know when he was getting closer. Now you were left in dead silence, only hearing the wind howling outside.

Terror like you had never felt before made your nipples harden when the floorboards behind you creaked. Your breath was quick to pick up in heaves as you slightly turned your head to the side. You knew that he was behind you now, but you couldn’t move. Your hands shook as you forced your eyes shut, squeezing them tightly, waiting for something— anything— to happen.

But nothing did. The suspense was eating away at your skin.

With one quick, bold movement, you turned and moved to the side to press your back against the wall by the staircase. You were hoping that there would be nothing there like before, but instead you were faced with a tall, masked figure in a Halloween costume you had seen in the store earlier this month. He stood only a few feet away from you with a knife glistening in his gloved hand.

“Fuck… shit… fuck…” You mumbled beneath your breath. “This is some kind of a prank, isn’t it?” Your heart jumped when the figure took a slow step towards you. “What are you going to do to me?” You asked, angry with yourself for how fearful your voice sounded. You knew that it was just what the man wanted. “If my prize is getting gutted, I don’t want it.” As you spoke, the knife seemed to disappear up the sleeve of the costume he wore as he took another step closer to you. “I swear to fucking—“

“You shouldn’t swear.” The man cut you off, sounding the exact same in person as he had over the phone. Smooth and sensual, terrifying and mysterious. The man took another step towards you, only stopping when he was so close that you could hear his breathing behind the mask. “Don’t you want your prize?” Your hands were quickly grabbed by his hand, and when you struggled, his impossible grasp only got tighter as he yanked you close against him. You closed your eyes and turned your head as the mouth of the plastic mask bumped against your cheek. “Why are you so scared, (y/n)? I thought that you weren’t ever afraid.” His voice was low. When you were quiet, the man yanked at you again. “I asked you a question.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked shakily. “If you’re going to kill me then would you just do it?” You finally looked at the man, eyes searching where his were behind the mask but finding nothing.

“I told you— I’m not going to kill you.” You let out a quiet sigh— in relief? Because you had been so afraid you forgot how to breathe? You didn’t know, but your entire body was still stiff. “Go upstairs.” The man said as he took a step back.

Finally, your feet moved. You hoped that the man would leave if you did what he said. He changed his grasp on your wrist and guided you up the stairs. You were surprised that you didn’t feel the sharp point of a knife against your back.

The only prize that you wanted was to wake up safe in your home in front of the television and this man being gone from your life forever.

You wondered how he knew your room so well as he nudged you in the direction of your bedroom. Was it a lucky guess or had he been watching you for longer than you could have ever known?

When you stepped inside, the light was flipped on, the door shut, and shortly afterwards you were shoved onto your bed. Everything looked normal in your room— it was clear that however long he had been in your house, he hadn’t touched a single thing— or he’d done everything right to keep things looking the same. But why would he care about that if it was just you anyways?

You looked at the man and clenched your jaw.

“I don’t think I want what you have to give me anymore.” The man didn’t speak, instead he pulled his gloves off and let them fall onto the end of the bed. You moved back on your bed until your back pressed against the headboard when he pressed a knee onto the end of your bed. The man pretended as if he hadn’t heard you— or maybe he simply didn’t care at all that you had spoke— and reached forward with two pairs of handcuffs in his grasp.

It was cold as he clamped it around your wrists and then to the bars on the headboard. You looked almost pleadingly at the man as he leaned back.

“I won’t say anything if you just leave. I promise.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He spoke, pulling a thick piece of black cloth from inside of the robe he wore. He leaned back in as you gave a shaky breath and blocked your eyes, tying the soft fabric in a tight knot behind your head.

You didn’t think that this could get worse, but being deprived of your vision was the cherry on top.

Cold metal pressed gently to your collarbone, sliding slowly across your skin and making you shiver. You knew exactly what it was and gulped as the knife lowered your shirt to expose your cleavage— or what was there with you not wearing a bra to hold your breasts up. Within a quick instant, the knife pulled away and your shirt was ripped in the middle. It was shoved to the side, exposing your bare breasts; the fan overhead was quick to harden your nipples which earned a devious chuckle from the man who easily lifted your hips and slid your pajama pants and underwear off.

You squirmed against the man who was quick to press the knife to your throat.

“Watch it or I’ll tie your legs down, too.” His hands grasped at your hips— shockingly warm and strong enough to leave a bruise as he lifted you up and rested the back of your knees over him. You squeezed your eyes shut so tight that it hurt, expecting the man to slam his dick inside of you. Instead, you gave a shock gasp when a warm tongue slid along your entrance. The mans tongue moved to press to your clit as two of his fingers pressed to your entrance. “You seem like you might be enjoying this.” He spoke as he was easily able to shove a finger inside of you. “Maybe you’re just as slutty as I imagined you were— getting turned on by a stranger fucking you.”

You had to admit, it was hard to keep quiet. Despite your fear, the mans finger was pressing just right inside if you and it had been a long time since someone had given you head— especially the amazing way that he was as his tongue swirled around your clit. You panted quietly and squirmed, unable to stop yourself as you gave out a low whimper.

A second finger pushed inside of you, teasing your insides with slow rubs as he sucked on your clit. You gave another soft moan, your toes curling as the man started to pump his fingers inside of you. You bit down on your lip, trying not to be too loud and express the pleasure that he was unfortunately making you feel— but it wasn’t working. It would have been impossible for the man not to notice your excitement as you squirmed against him— this time not being told to hold still like before.

Gently, unnoticeably to you, the man grinded himself against your bed.

This was something that he had wanted— craved— for so long.

Every little whimper, whine and moan that left you made his cock twitch as he fingered you, hitting spots that made you want to scream out in euphoria. You’d never been able to keep very quiet in bed, but this time you were given more reasons not to; most men you had sex with were mediocre, but even this was making you nearly unravel.

“Ooh— fuck,” you moaned out, broken with pleasure. Right afterwards, everything stopped. The man moved his fingers from inside of you, his mouth left you, and the bed shifted. The tickle of the costume that he wore tickled you as he leaned over you and pressed two wet fingers to your bottom lip.

Obediently, you opened your mouth and let him shove his fingers into your mouth. You sucked on his fingers, unable to see the quick lick of his lips as he watched you and reached to grope at your breast.

Nothing was said as the man pulled his fingers out of your mouth and moved. You heard the sound of a zipper as the bed creaked. You couldn’t help the twitching ache inside of you— certainly not when the strangers warm cockhead slid teasingly against your clit. You gave a shiver and a soft whimper, shifting on the bed as the head of his cock pushed inside of you.

Once he was slightly inside, he grasped at your thighs tight and lifted them around his waist, moving closer to you as he started to push himself inside of you. The stranger didn’t start slow— instead he was working inside of you as if he had been fucking you all night long. He teased you with rough thrusts, shoving himself all of the way inside of you before pulling back out and fucking your entrance with the tip of his cock.

By now you weren’t trying to contain the moans that were spilling out of your mouth. Occasionally the stranger would give soft grunts that you could barely hear against your own desperate sounding moans.

Your nipples tingled as he shoved all of himself inside of you again. This time, he stayed close, choosing not to tease you like before. Instead, he let you give into the pleasure that you were feeling— and clearly returning. The man grunted and breathed heavily as you clenched around him. His constant thrusts edged you towards an orgasm— one that nearly had you screaming as you came around his cock.

The man reached down, his fingers rubbing your clit— quickly— something that made you squirt around his cock and buck your hips against the man as overstimulation hit you. He didn’t stop this time either, grasping your hip tight with his free hand and continuing to thrust inside of you fast and hard. You moaned out desperately as his thrusts slowly became less methodical and started to become sloppy, but you gave a final loud scream when he thrusted inside of you one more time in a way that made your stomach churn.

He gave three more gentle, slow thrusts inside of you before he left you.

The man set your shaky legs down on the bed and moved to stand up. Nobody had ever cum inside of you before, and yet you knew exactly what the sensation felt like right now. The sound of a zipper hit your ears again, and soon after your hands were released from the handcuffs. Before he moved back, he leaned close— his face bare as his breath hit your cheek.

“Don’t move.” You nodded and waited, listening to his soft footsteps receding from the bed. The room suddenly went quiet.

You took a moment to catch your breath, hesitating for a few minutes before reaching up to pull the blindfold off of your eyes and down your neck. The room was empty, dead silent as if you had imagined everything. The only thing that let you know it was real was the wet spot beneath you on the bed and the ache deep inside of you.

Your window was left open, blowing in warm summer air and making the light curtains flow in the breeze as you shakily stood. Looking out of the window, you hoped to catch one final glimpse of the man.

But there was nothing. Only the fabric swaying slightly in the wind.

You closed the window, locking it and double checking after you shut your curtains, before you moved and sat on the end of your bed, still naked with a ripped shirt barely covering you. With a sigh, you pushed your hair back and looked around the empty room again. With one final, airy sigh, you spoke aloud to yourself.

“What the fuck.”

#scream 1996 #scream #scream x reader #scream x female reader #scream fluff #scream smut #scream franchise #scream billy loomis #scream stu macher #surprise character

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