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roosterforme · 11 hours

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Vintage | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, mentions of smut

Length: 2700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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"Sometimes I swear you love that thing more than you love me."

Your voice startled Bradley as he ran the wet, soapy sponge along the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco, pulling him from his thoughts. That was something you frequently said to him, jokingly claiming that you were the second love of his life. But you both knew it wasn't true. Especially not tonight.

"Hey, Baby," he whispered, coaxing you closer to him as he tossed the sponge back into the bucket. "Come here."

The setting sun painted your face with orange and gold, and he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and then held them out to you, and you were in his arms in an instant. "Bradley," you mumbled against his chest as he squeezed you, getting your shirt a little damp in the process. But you didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to miss you."

Detailing and cleaning what used to be his dad's 1973 Bronco had become a way for him to relieve stress. He would get out the soap and turn on the hose when he needed a few minutes to himself. It was easier to be alone in his head, processing his thoughts and worries when he was washing the light blue masterpiece he'd spent so many years and a lot of money preserving. He always found himself in a better headspace to deal with whatever was troubling him when he spent some time with the Bronco. And today was no exception.

"I'm going to miss you, too."

Sometimes it felt like the nearly five years you and he had been married were just spent alternating deployments. First he would be gone on an aircraft carrier for months on end, and then it would be your turn. You'd be sent abroad with the Navy before returning to him, and then the cycle would begin anew. Everything felt harder when you weren't around, and maybe that's why Bradley was out on the driveway right now instead of helping you pack for your early call time tomorrow morning.

With your cheek pressed to his sternum, you cried softly. "It's only two months this time. And I'll have access to my phone. And I'll even be home in time for our anniversary. I don't know why I'm feeling so emotional about this."

He pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "It's not like it gets any easier. You know that. I know that. It's going to feel like two months of hell on my end."

You sniffed hard then looked up at him with a little smirk. "At least you'll have the Bronco to keep you warm."

Bradley groaned and started to walk you backwards toward the house. "I mean, she's pretty and all, and I've definitely spent a night or two curled up around her gear shift, but I never gave her a diamond ring."

Your lips and your soft laughter against his neck sent a jolt of physical pleasure through his body, but he didn't want to rush this. He needed this to last, to hold him over for two months without your touch. Both of you tripped along to the bedroom where he smiled and whispered, "Let me show you that you're my number one girl. Let me prove you always will be."

Bradley was meticulous. He knew every inch of his Bronco, inside and out, but he knew you better. The sounds you made were prettier. The way you clung to him as he brought you pleasure was unparalleled. Your fingers laced with his as he connected his body with yours in the most intimate way, and it left him breathless.

"I love you."

-----------------------

Two days. He'd only been alone for two days, and he was already halfway through binge watching a season of a show that wasn't even that interesting. When he got home from work, he eyed up the couch and TV before ultimately changing into some sweats and heading back out to the driveway. He looked over the Bronco from hood to taillights, making a mental list of what she needed: new wiper blades, two new tires, and an oil change.

When he took his phone out to order the parts from his favorite website, he must have typed something wrong. It rerouted him to a vintage Ford resale page that left him staring at a sage green 1975 Bronco in rough condition. Man, she was still pretty though, with her original chrome and hubcaps. She was just an hour away, and the price wasn't too bad...

He glanced up at the blue gem in front of him. An idea started to take shape. He wondered how you would feel about it. With a smile, he ordered the wiper blades and oil filter that he needed and went inside to make dinner. But he couldn't stop picturing that chipped, green paint, and the vinyl that needed to be patched.

If he knew he could get you hooked on a Bronco of your very own, he'd make this purchase. Two months to go. Shit, he might have just enough time to pull this off. He could practically picture you cranking the engine to life and waving goodbye as you pulled out of the driveway and took your Bronco for a spin. He wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face, but he'd say it anyway. "You love that thing more than you love me, Baby."

When he was stretched out on your side of the bed later that night, enveloped in your sweet scent that clung to the pillows, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It would be fun to prove to you once and for all where his loyalties lie. Or maybe it could just be a project that would keep him busy, and if you didn't like the idea, he could resell it after you got home. Either way, he drifted to sleep as he thought about you behind the wheel, and he knew it was too perfect to pass up.

----------------------

"Hey, Baby," Bradley said with a smirk as he answered his phone.

"Bradley! I miss you like crazy!"

"I miss you, too," he promised as he looked at the rather beat up, green Bronco before him. He got it for a great price when he offered to pay cash, and the tow truck just dropped it off a few days ago. Half of the engine was taken apart on a tarp at his feet, and it was currently jacked up so he could replace the oil pan. But he thought it was gorgeous. "I have a little surprise for you when you get home."

"A surprise?! Tell me. You know I can't wait that long."

"Nah," he said, kneeling down to check the wiring for the headlights. "I think I'll make you wait this one out."

"Rooster!"

"What?" he laughed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he slipped his work gloves on and pulled at the loose wire. "You know, this is what you get for always giving me a hard time about my dad's Bronco. I love you so much, Baby, I'll make you wait for the surprise. It'll be sweeter that way."

"You're the worst," you groaned playfully. "Now I'll be thinking about what it could possibly be the whole time I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you have up your sleeve."

"As long as you're thinking about me, I'm happy," he rasped, and your pretty sigh in response left him a little breathless.

"I'm always thinking about you. Promise me as soon as I get back, we'll go for a long drive? Up along the coast? Late at night?"

He loved that idea. It would just look a little different than you were probably imagining if he could get this thing up and running again in time for your return. "We'll make a night of it," he promised. "I'll pack some blankets, and we can sit in the back and look out at the ocean. Can't guarantee I'll be able to keep my hands to myself though."

"Mmm. That's what I'm counting on."

----------------------

After about two weeks of watching a lot of YouTube videos posted by professionals, Bradley finally had the engine rebuilt. He was just waiting for some parts to arrive before he could put it back in place. "You're a needy one, aren't you?" he asked the green Bronco. "Nothing like her. She's a saint." He nodded his head toward the blue one before kneeling to replace the taillights.

He was quickly realizing that the money he saved on the cost of the actual vehicle was being eaten up in the expensive, vintage parts. He was lucky he knew how to do most of this himself, even if it took twice as long. Today he was replacing the brakes and listening to a Motown playlist, and he fully realized that he felt calmest when he was with you or a Bronco. He snorted at how ridiculous that fact was as he scooted under the vehicle, but it was true. And having you tucked away in the back with the tailgate dropped, all wrapped up in a blanket while you turned him on just by existing.... well, that's when he would be happiest of all.

As the weeks wore on and the project progressed, the day finally arrived when it was time to try to start her up and take her for a little drive. Everything smelled like new rubber from the tires he'd just put on. The vinyl seats were still in bad shape, but when he slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine purred to life.

Bradley's head tipped back as he groaned softly. "So fucking pretty. My god." He tapped the accelerator gently with his foot, enjoying the rev of the engine. He smoothed his hands along the steering wheel and the dashboard before he adjusted the rear view mirror to accommodate his height. Then he flicked the chrome switch and turned on the radio which he was surprised still worked.

My Girl by the Temptations poured from the speakers as the station crackled to life, and that felt like a very good sign. "Let's get out of here, Sweetheart," he whispered before shifting into reverse and leaving the driveway and his toolbox behind.

She was smooth and steady and everything he was hoping for. Would it ever fully compete with Goose's Bronco? Probably not. Was it worth the investment anyway? He'd find out next week when you got home. There were just a few things left to do before he dropped it off to be repainted and have the interior patched, and then she'd be good as new.

Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw it was you. "Hey, Baby."

"Bradley! I miss you so much. I swear, if this thing was longer than two months, I wouldn't make it. What are you up to?"

"Oh, I'm just out for a little drive."

--------------------------

After eight weeks of nothing more than a few scant phone calls, Bradley was more than ready to have you home again. Maybe you and he could take a few days off from work. He'd help you catch up on some sleep after initially keeping you up all night. He already had some blankets ready to go as soon as you said you wanted to drive up to Carlsbad and watch the surfers at sunset before making love in the back of your Bronco.

Your Bronco. His wife's Bronco. It would take some getting used to, but it already made him smile every time he thought about it. With his hands on that familiar steering wheel, he drove toward the Naval base where both of you spent so much of your time. He waited, leaning against the light blue hood until you came running toward him in your uniform with your bags.

"Bradley!" you shrieked as you landed in his arms where you belonged.

"I missed you," he promised, finally kissing your lips again after so many weeks. He felt your bag hit his foot, and he smiled as he tilted your face up for better access to your mouth.

"I missed you, too," you moaned softly, and he was already making the move to get you back home and remind you what you meant to him. But you dug your feet in outside the passenger door.

"Where's my surprise?" you asked as you tucked your fingers into the top of his jeans and grinned up at him. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. Is it you?"

"No," he replied with a chuckle as his gaze drifted toward the Bronco. "You'll see soon enough."

You glanced at where he was looking, and you rolled your eyes before kissing his chin. "Did she keep you company while I was gone? She looks pristine, like you spend some time working on her."

Bradley kissed your forehead. "Just get in, Baby," he rasped. "The sooner we get home, the sooner your little surprise will make sense."

He knew the routine by heart now. The short ride home would start out with you holding his right hand and playing with his fingers while he drove. Then your hand would migrate to his thigh when the Bronco was about five blocks away. Then as soon as the tires touched the driveway, you'd unbuckle your seatbelt and make your way over to his lap.

The routine was important to him. He loved it. He loved taking you inside and directly to bed before coming back out much later to get the bags. He thrived on the return to normal life that was triggered by the routine. But today, he knew you weren't going to end up on his lap, and that was more than okay.

When your hand settled on his thigh exactly five blocks away from home, Bradley smiled. Your fingers crept up inch by inch as you leaned closer and whispered in his ear that you had their fifth wedding anniversary all planned out for the following weekend. You were playing with the zipper of his jeans by the time he could see the house, and he just waited for it. He was not disappointed.

"What the fuck is that?" you gasped, both hands going to the dashboard in front of you as you leaned to check out the freshly painted green Bronco as he coasted into the driveway. "Bradley?" you asked, glancing at him with wide eyes as he shifted into park.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss your softly parted lips. "This is your surprise. You're always joking about how much I love my Bronco, but I'll never love anything more than I love you."

You pressed your lips to his once before pulling away, shaking your head slightly. "So you got me one of my own?" you asked, jerking your thumb toward the green one.

He nodded and pulled his key from the ignition before pressing it into your palm. "Yep. She's all yours."

"Wait," you whispered, your brow creasing in confusion as you looked down at your hand. "This is your key."

"No, it's your key. The key to the green one is in the house. That's my key."

You gaped at him as your eyebrows shot upwards. "You're giving me your Bronco?"

"Yep."

"But," you whispered, turning to look out the window, "I can drive the other one."

"No, I bought the green one with myself in mind," he replied, taking your chin gently in his hand so you were looking at him again. "This one's better. She's sweet. Like you. She's yours."

"Oh my god, Bradley."

He was wrong; you did end up in his lap. Right where you belonged. His hands settled at your hips as you kissed every inch of his face while he laughed.

"I want to take her for a spin," you whispered, nudging him out of the driver's seat with your knee. "Go."

He smiled as he walked around to the passenger side of the blue Bronco, and he barely had the door closed before you started the engine and shifted into gear. "Pretty soon you'll love this thing more than you love me, Baby."

---------------------------

He gave you his Bronco. The green one was for him. That's how you know he loves you. I hope they do some nasty shit in the green one to break it in. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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417 notes · View notes

fleurriee · 3 days

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oh my god i need a-z alphabet of aemond or whatever it is. foaming at the mouth for this man fr

inspired by @moralesluvr & their a-z

again, more than likely ooc aemond but aren't most fics of him??

this was written over a period of months at sporadic times & i haven't read it through so...

affection — how affection are they? do they show affection?

aemond is not an affection person - i mean, do you know how he was brought up? the only affection he's ever really been shown is when his mother stood up for him that night he lost his eye. so, it's definitely safe to say that affection & aemond do not go together. until he met you, at least.

you're not overly affectionate yourself, but there were certain things you'd do that would make him tense up a little - like, stroking his arm, touching his hand, giving him little compliments, etc. at first, when you'd do these to him, he'd want nothing more than to run away and forget it ever happened... but, the more you did it, the more he got used to it, and the more he craved it.

of course, when you finally get to a point in your relationship where aemond started showing affection back to you, he would only ever do so in the privacy of your chambers, when only those in view were the two of you. it wasn't that he was worried he would come across as weak - he didn't want people to know you were his upmost weakness.

eventually, too, both his mother and heleana are allowed to see these little special moments between the two of you, but that’s all.

bye — what do they do when they need to leave? how are they feeling?

aemond is a busy man, especially when his older brother takes the throne. so, more often than not, the two of you need to part, which is something he hates. he hates not knowing where you’ll be, what you’ll be doing, who you’ll be with — and it’s not a possessive thing, it’s a worried thing. he always worries something bad might happen to you, someone might do something to get back at him.

the first thing he does is reassure you that he’ll back as soon as he possibly can, worded in a way that doesn’t allow him to promise that he won’t be long, because he knows he will be. he takes your face in his hands when he utters these promises to you, looking straight at your eyes so you can see the sincerity. he places gentle kisses all across your face, smiling a little to himself when he hears your giggles. that sounds alone is enough for him to go on.

cuddles — do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?

aemond cuddles in a way that keeps you safe. when you’re in bed, he’ll lie on his back with you lay right next to him, arm draped on his front whilst his goes behind your head. he likes to way he can play with your hair between his fingers, combing it through and soothing you; he likes that he can feel you moving with his every breath as you lay upon his chest. it constantly reminds him that you’re there, that you’re real.

there’s also the times when the two of you have a somewhat free day, spending it together in the silence of your chambers reading your separate books. more often than not, you’re sat apart, trying to concentrate, but then there’s the moments when aemond just needs you that little bit closer. he’ll be sat in his chair, unable to focus with his mind constantly drifting back to you, so he gestures you over. the position isn’t exactly a completely comfortable one, but you’re close, and that’s all you care about. you’ll be sat on his lap, both arms around your middle as he carries on reading, you head on his shoulder. it just makes the silence all the more beautiful for him.

domestic — how domestic are they? do they want to settle down?

aemond can come across quite domestic, but maybe that’s just because he knows eventually, the two of you will have no choice but to be so. and, he tries, at least more than his brother did with heleana. it’s always the little things — holding your hand in a gentle grip when leaving a carriage, making sure you don’t lose your step; pulling out the chair for you and pushing you back in at feasts.

like i said, it’s his duty, so he knows he wants to settle down. but, there was a time when he never thought he would because he couldn’t find anyone who would want to settle down with him, something he attributed to his missing eye. and then, he met you, and you didn’t care he had something missing. in that moment, he knew he was ready to finally begin his duties.

equal — how much effort do they put into the relationship?

aemond likes to give back as much to you as he can possibly try. of course, at first, he didn’t know how to properly do what you do to him — how is it that you’re able to make him blush when he’s never done so before; how is it that you’re capable of causing his heart to beat at rapid pulses?

aemond simply wanted to make you feel as loved as you made him feel. what type of husband would he be if he couldn’t do that for his very own wife? so, until he could finally figure out what got your heart racing, he’s definitely thinking of different ways to make you fall more impossibly in love with him.

fiancé — how are they in an engagement?

when aemond finally warms up to the idea of possibly being in a marriage alliance that could make him happy, he somehow turns it into the perfect betrothal.

he makes sure to spend as much time with you as he possibly can whenever he’s free, learning all your likes and dislikes, what your favourite hobbies are, etc. not only does he want to know everything he can about you, but it also helps to know how to best make you smile.

if he learns that you like to read, best believe he’s spending time with you in the library, the both of you talking about your favourite books; if you like to embroider, he’s definitely asking heleana if you can join her, making even sitting in silence with you as you converse with his sister.

aemond wants to make your life as easy as he can, and he knows that by reassuring you during your engagement that you’ll be safe and even potentially happy with him is just the first step.

gentle — how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

how is it that aemond can be both gentle and aggressive? to anyone looking in from the outside, he’s a rock, as hard as stone and the only expression you’ll find on his face is a smirk. he’s willing to prove himself to anyone — show how much of a warrior he is now that he’s practiced almost as much as he’s breathed.

but to you, behind the privacy of your chamber doors? it’s almost like he’s trying to handle a butterfly. he’s so nervous that maybe his rough, calloused hands will be too harsh on you, that his attempt at a smile might look a little too like a smirk. but, he tries, and that’s all you can ask of him.

hugs — do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

aemond is not a hugger. he finds it almost too intimate, too uncomfortable. when you first tried to hug him, all he felt was tense and stiff. none of it felt right.

now, he’ll give in to a hug on certain occasions, like when you’re upset — especially when you’re upset. the moment he sees your teary eyes and quivering lips, he’s instantly wrapping you in his embrace, forgetting all about the fact that on a normal day, he’d hate it. but, he knows you need comforting, and he’s willingly to do just about anything to make you feel better.

aemond’s hugs, despite not being used to them, feel like a protective circle, more so when you’re in need of comforting and he’s using the tightest grip he has on you. it’s like he needs you to know that he’s there, that he’s close by, that his body is always going to be entwined with yours.

i love you — how fast do they say the words?

it takes aemond forever — i’m talking years. again, though, can you really blame him when he’s not even sure what love actually is? he wasn’t shown barely even a smidge growing up — how’s he supposed to know that’s what he’s feeling every time he looks at you?

but, even when he finally figures it out, you best believe he’s keeping that secret to himself for a while longer. the idea of you not feeling the same way, of you feeling repulsed, of you laughing at his face for even thinking such a way is such a terrifying thought for him, he’d be to worried to ever confess.

when he eventually does, however, he’s not even aware he’s saying the words until his mind fully focuses on the expression you’re giving him. the two of you were in bed, you lay on top of him, your finger mindlessly running circles on his chest after spending your time intimately together. you were telling him about your day, how happy you’d been to spend it with heleana and how she always manages to make you feel young again, when the words just flew through him mouth.

needless to say, after that moment and the way you so lovingly reacted to it, aemond loves to whisper it in your ear.

jealousy — how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

aemond doesn’t like to admit, but he gets jealous more often than not. he’s fallen far and hard, and the idea of you ever falling for someone else, or someone trying to, it scares him.

he keeps his cool as best as he can, clenching both his jaw and his fists, hoping that the lord who offered you to dance at the feast won’t try to pull anything that will make him want to break his neck.

and, he’ll just stew in his jealousy until the whole things over. he’ll never take it out on you, because he knows you couldn’t exactly say no when a lord asks you to dance. and, he knows he’ll never have to courage to do what they can — he can’t dance with you in front of everybody, but he sure as hell can when your in your chambers, and you’re always there to reassure him that you’d take him over any lord for the rest of your life.

kisses — what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

for the longest time, aemond’s kisses are just pecks, and only across the back of your hand. when he started to get bolder the closer your relationship became, he’d peck your cheeks, your forehead. he was scared when he first kissed your lips, again just a peck, but after that first time, his hands cupping your face in such an intimate way, he couldn’t help himself. his kisses are still soft, but there’s a greediness to it, one that shows how starving he is for more of you.

aemond fucking loves it when you kiss his scar — he’s never felt so much love in his entire life. the way you never try to pressure him to take the patch off, your thumbs stroking soothingly against the white mark before placing such a gentle caress of a kiss against it? god, he’d do anything for you when you do that to him.

little ones — how are they around children? how many do they want?

aemond isn’t the best around children, never really know how best to act, or what to say, or worried he might come across as some monster just from the sight of him alone. but, when heleana had the twins, something in him changed. he cared for them unconditionally, allowing them to pull on his hair and climb on him just because they were bored. being an uncle made him realise that maybe one day he could do the same with his own children.

he would want as many kids as you would allow him — he’d definitely want to be the next jaehaerys when it comes to all his heirs. he couldn’t think of anything better than having a big family with you, uncaring as to whether they were all boys, all girls or a mixture of both. aemond would want boys for the longest time, teach to be fierce warriors and have them protect your family, but as the time got closer, he’d secretly start wanting a girl, who he’d raise the same and love all the more.

morning — how are mornings spent with them?

mornings with aemond are rare. more often than not, he’s unfortunately called for some business or counsel meeting he really couldn’t be bothered for, having to leave your warm embrace for a cold welcome somewhere else.

but, on the rare occasions where he somehow managed both the old gods and the new to allow him a free morning, you spend it stuck against one another, allowing yourselves more time to sleep in.

night — how are nights spent with them?

nights with aemond are either spent with the two of you wrapped in bed, on the chairs by the fire — but, either way, the two of you are full of conversation. it can be spent with whatever you’ve done during that day, or how you’re thinking of spending the next one.

aemond always makes sure someone has your fire going and a bath reading before either of you arrive there. he likes it when you have baths together, facing the window as you just look out at the sky. you could be spending it in silence for all he cares, as long as it’s just the two of you, he doesn’t care.

open — when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait to reveal things slowly?

it would take aemond so long to open himself up to you, even when it came to the little things about him.

in order to do so, he felt as though he needed to know more about you first — about whether you would even be worthy of nothing all the ins and outs of him. and even then, when he finally understood you completely, it was nerve wracking for him, coming clean and being vulnerable with anyone.

aemond definitely took his time opening himself up, too, in the sense that he wouldn’t unload everything onto you at once. he would just subtly mention something he hadn’t told you before whenever it felt right in the middle of a conversation — and one thing he loved about you, was that you never made a big deal out of it. you just took the information in with a small smile on your face and carried on.

patience — how easily angered are they?

like i said before, this man gets jealous easy, and the same goes for his anger.

we all know what aemond is like and the shit he's been through, so is it really any surprise?

but he's good at hiding it - he does that smirk of his and his eyes narrow dangerously. to anyone else but you, they'd just think that was his resting expression.

however, when others take it just a little too far?? with you?? yeah, they're dead, the blood of the dragon comes out in him for sure.

he tries not to maim them too much for your sake, but he's definitely fed a few people to vhagar because they insulted you.

quizzes — how much would they remember about you? do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or forget everything?

aemond remembers everything.

he doesn't talk much; her prefers to listen, so he's very attentive with you. during your courting days, when you were getting to know one another more properly, he'd learned everything about you and made sure to keep it all locked within a little safe in his mind.

he'll remember all dates you consider important so he can do something special for you; he'll remember your favourite book so he can make sure you always have a spare with you; he'll remember your favourite flowers so he can spoil you rotten with them.

the list is simply endless with this man.

remember — what is their favourite memory of your relationship?

the day he finally revealed his sapphire to you.

it was one of his biggest worries; you'd not long been married, and you were getting along so well, he was terrified that the moment you laid eyes on it, you were going to run.

he couldn't stand the idea of you leaving him, of thinking him less than because of his scars.

but, it happened in the spur of a moment type of way - you'd wanted to see all of him for a while now but you didn't want to push him, and whilst the two of you were kissing heatedly in your rooms, one of your hands repeatedly got stuck between his eye patch and his hair. without even realising what he was doing, aemond took it off.

the silence was deafening as you gazed upon him, all of him, and aemond swore he could feel his heart in his throat.

all of that changed when you smiled at him as you always had done, filled with such love and admiration, and you carried on like nothing happened.

aemond knew from that moment on there was no other explanation other than you were put on this world just for him.

security — how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

aemond targaryen? protective? they're basically synonyms.

fr though, all aemond is thinking about is where you are and whether you're safe, but not in an overbearing, possessive way. he just knows that you're his biggest weakness, and it's probably painfully obvious to everyone else.

when you're apart, aemond always makes sure you have at least 3 of his most trusted guards with you at all times, even if you're only spending the day in the library.

when you're together, aemond's protective in the little ways. it's important to him that you're always on his good side, allowing him to see where you are and who else is nearby in case they try anything; if you're a little bit in front of him, he'll have his hand on the small of your back, for his sake more than yours, but if you're standing next to one another, he asks you to put his arm through his, the comfort of your presence giving him ease.

aemond knows you're not an overly protective person, but he absolutely adores it when you stand up for him, defending his honour when you hear someone slander him, be it for his looks or his demeanour. he loves how angry and protective you get over him, and he wouldn't want you to do anymore than that.

try — how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts?

aemond's a 50/50 guy when it comes to stuff like this.

you mean a lot to him, and he'll do almost anything to put a smile on your face, so long as it's just between the two of you.

he won't want to do anything too extravagant or adventurous; the most it's gone has been when he took you flying on vhager for the first time.

he likes to keep it kind of low key. he make sure you have several bouquets of your favourite flowers in your rooms for you; the cooks have prepared your favourite breakfast, dinner and deserts; and he'll make sure he spends the entire day with you, clearing off anything else he needs to do and shoving it away for another day.

ugly — what are some bad habits of theirs?

aemond is big on silent treatment.

he didn't talk about any of his feelings when he was younger, and unfortunately, it's something he ended up taking with him as he grew older.

you know he tries his absolute hardest to not give you the silent treatment, but when it's been engrained within your brain your entire life, it's easier said than done. he knows you hate it, and it's something he's definitely trying to work on for you.

another thing would be his anger towards others. with you, he never gets angry, because how could he ever get angry at his sweet little wife? but with others, he's brutal.

it's another thing you hate when he does, the way he so callously beats and maims others for something you wouldn't think deserve such a punishment.

vanity — how concerned are they with their looks?

aemond's not exactly concerned, but he is cautious.

when he looks at you, all he sees are the stars in your eyes and the goddess far above within your features. and standing next to him, he knows it has to be such a sight.

he's always been one to take care of his hair - it's just his eye.

he doesn't like the way it stands out so brutishly against your shining figure, dark and cruel.

of course, the start to changing his way of thinking happens after he reveals his eye to you, and he realises that it only matters what you think, no one else.

whole — would they feel incomplete without you?

oh, yes.

beforehand, aemond never wanted a wife, he never wanted a family, he just simply wanted to protect his family like the dutiful son he was.

but once you've fallen into his dark embrace and he's finally gotten a taste of what marriage life is supposed to be like, aemond can't imagine anything any other way.

xtra — a random headcannon for them!!

aemond loves it when you take care/pamper him.

it's something he struggled to admit to himself, let alone to you, but once you're past that barrier, it's one of the things he looks forward to at the end of his day.

you'll have a bath prepared for him, dismissing the maids because no one takes care of him like you do, and you'll help wash him sensually, cleaning his hair and massaging his shoulder of all the knots built up.

he loves it when you play with his hair - washing it, brushing it, stroking it, you name it.

it just makes aemond feel so loved.

yuck — what are some things they wouldn’t like, in general or in a partner?

when your courting started, one of the most important things to aemond was that you got on with his sister, heleana.

he wasn't entirely bothered if you didn't get on with his mother because he knows she can be intimidating sometimes, and he definitely didn't care when it came to aegon.

but with heleana, he needed it to happen.

for aemond, it spoke a lot about the other person. if they didn't like heleana, for whatever excuse they may come up with, there had to be something wrong with him, they had to have been a bad person somewhere inside.

definitely off-putting for him.

zzz — what are their sleep habits?

he's a light sleeper in every sense.

he feels the wind coming through the open window? he's awake. he hears a rustle from outside his doors? he's awake. he feels you move slightly against him in your sleep? he's awake.

aemond is never really fully asleep, but it does get better once you start to sleep next to him.

he's always made sure you sleep the furthest away from the door, a habit he'll never get rid of for your safety.

he likes to have you as close to him as possible, wanting to feel your skin against his own for his comfort, no matter if it's the hottest summer known to man.

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎#hotd #house of the dragon #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #dad aemond #aemond x pregnant reader #aemond headcannons #aemond targaryen headcannons

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megalony · 2 days

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Better Than Any Medal

As promised, this is finally a buddie fic. Evan Buckley x reader x Eddie Diaz. I'm sorry it's taken so long to do a Buddie fic, I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana

@shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @ml572 @jessie-lynn28 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While at the award ceremony with Buck, Eddie and their kids, (Y/n) starts having contractions. But she tries not to tell the boys, wanting to celebrate first.

Enjoy.

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(Y/n) arched her lower back, trying to relieve the pain in her spine that felt like it was snapping in three different places, all at once.

Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes and she couldn't stop them from falling down her face as her nails started to scratch against the porcelean sink. A twinge rolled through her back and her knees bent forward into the sink that she was leaning heavily against to the point she felt like she was going to break it.

One hand moved up to swipe at the sweat glistening on her skin and she took a deep breath, trying to push through the pain.

They all had a busy day today. Today was a special day and (Y/n) didn't need this pain right now. She needed to push through it and get ready so none of them were late for the station. This was going to be the first medal Evan would be awarded, and Eddie's first medal for being a firefighter and it would be the only medal Eddie would be proud of.

God knows he hadn't been happy when he got his medal for his time in the army, that was one he didn't think he deserved. But getting a medal for going against regulations and orders to go and save Bobby, that was something worth celebrating.

She tried to straighten up but once she was stood up, it felt like her stomach dropped down and tried to weigh her down to the floor.

"Mum," Violet knocked on the door, followed by a giggle that almost lifted (Y/n)'s heart. She knew all the kids were getting impatient because they were all excited to go to the station. They were just like their dads; always up for a party no matter what they were celebrating.

"I'm coming, just- hang on."

Her legs quivered when she slowly eased down to sit on the toilet so she could get dressed without falling over. She kicked the lounge set she had stole from Eddie this morning to one side. The shorts had been a little uncomfy because they didn't stretch properly over her stomach anymore, but there was very little that still fit (Y/n) these days.

She reached out for her tights and leaned forward, rolling her eyes to herself as she wriggled her feet into her tights. This was the part (Y/n) didn't like about being pregnant. Where she could barely get dressed or walk about without her stomach getting in the way or dragging her down or making her feel uncomfortable.

She stood up and leaned her hip into the sink, letting the waistband bunch just under her stomach because she couldn't be bothered to fight with them any more. She had to finish getting ready.

They didn't feel as comfy as they used to, but most things didn't anymore. (Y/n) was used to living in the boy's clothing, but she couldn't exactly do that today on a special occasion.

She had asked the boys why they couldn't have had this ceremony next month when (Y/n) would have already gone into labour. They had waited three months since the rescue mission to actually award the team, another month wouldn't have mattered. But they chose today when (Y/n) was thirty-five weeks pregnant so she would have to sit uncomfortably through the day and wear something that wasn't flattering in her current state.

Tears welled up in her eyes again when she shuffled towards the door and felt the baby start to kick. That was all she needed, for the baby to move and kick and liven up so (Y/n) would feel worse.

Her hand curled around the handle but she froze when a tightening sensation in her abdomen had her leaning forward and sent her knees buckling.

Oh no.

"Please… please, not today." She muttered defeatedly to herself as her hand moved to hold her stomach like she was trying to get the baby- or her body- to listen to her pleas.

She couldn't go into labour today. This was not the day to have their fourth kid. Not when today was supposed to be about Eddie and Evan and a day to celebrate the pair of them. (Y/n) wasn't supposed to go into labour today and take the attention off the boys or drag them all away from the party and cause a fuss.

The back pain, the sleepless night last night, the constant uncomfortableness she felt and the twinges rolling through her stomach, they were all vaguely familiar to when she had the girls. Why today? Why now? Why now, when this was supposed to be a happy day without stress or drama or any sort of problems arrising.

(Y/n) had done this twice before, she knew the signs and the feeling of going into labour and that definitely felt like a contraction.

If this was the start of labour, maybe (Y/n) could get through the whole day without much fuss or pain. Maybe she could hold off telling the boys until later this afternoon, maybe this evening if she was really lucky. That's what she would do, she would try her best to keep this under control and wait until strictly necessary to tell the boys.

She took a deep breath and straightened up, more and more convinced that she was going to have this baby today when the pain started to fade.

When she finally opened the bathroom door, Violet grinned up at her and muttered a quiet 'yay' although she leaned her head to the side when she realised her mum wasn't even dressed yet.

"Mum, papa said we're going in five minutes."

Evan was a stickler for timing. He created schedules for their days out, he prepped and got the kids up early and got breakfast ready. He was always creating routines and time guidlines to keep everyone on time, he couldn't bear to be late for anything.

"And I'll be ready, I just need my dress." (Y/n) leaned down and kissed the top of Violet's head, managing a smile when she looked at what her daughter was wearing.

A dark plum purple dress that fanned out in ruffles around her legs and a matching purple flower clip in her hair.

The six year old nodded and gave (Y/n) a hug before she wriggled past and hurried into the bathroom.

(Y/n)'s hand pressed against the wall, using it as leverage to get herself further down the hall towards the bedroom. She had only just got up and already she wanted to sit back down again. She just wanted to sit down and try to get the pains to disappear. All night she had been uncomfortable, unable to find a good position to lay in without her stomach hurting her her back aching like it had been broken. And now if contractions were happening, the uncomfortableness was going to get a lot worse.

Something soft formed on her lips when she headed into the bedroom and looked over at Eddie.

He was stood in front of the mirror, buckling up his belt and tucking his dress shirt into his high-waisted trousers that fit snugly over his hips.

It wasn't often that (Y/n) got to see either of her men in their suits, the most she got was them in their day to day uniform. Seeing Eddie stood there with the matching trousers and blazer and a tie was so strange, Eddie didn't usually dress up in suits unless it was a formal event like a wedding. For events and family gatherings he usually wore some smart trousers and a button up shirt, nothing this fancy.

But all five of them had to wear their uniforms today because this was a formal HQ event and they were having photos taken. The ceremony was technically for PR and promotional reasons, but it was still good that they were all getting recognition for what they had done.

Eddie's head turned in her direction and he quirked a brow as he looked her up and down. Stood there near the bed in her tights and her bra with most of her stomach exposed for his flooded eyes to drink in and observe.

"Are you going like that?" He danced his eyes up and down her frame while he turned away from the mirror to face her instead.

"I'm sure you'd love that, but no, I'll find a dress."

She looked in the walk-in wardrobe for a dress that would look half decent on her but not make her look like a fool or a football. Her eyes locked on a dark cherry red dress and she swiped it from the hook, smothering a groan as she clicked her spine into place, again, and dragged it over her head.

Her lips formed a frown when she pulled the dress down to her knees and it pulled a bit too low on her chest and revealed her bra.

She sucked in a deep breath and shimmied the heart neckline back up to cover her chest, but it pulled the waistband higher over her bump and made the dress ride up her thighs.

Her teeth bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from crying as she tried to rearrange the dress once again. She didn't want it too high up her thighs or too low on her chest, but there didn't seem to be any middleground.

It seemed safer to show a bit more chest and cleavage than risk her dress being too high around her thighs. She made sure her bra wasn't on show and she looked as decent as possible, but she barely made it out of the wardrobe before arms circled around her waist.

"I like that one, you look lovely." Eddie murmured, punctuating his words with a kiss against her shoulder and travelling his lips up to the side of her neck.

He slid his hands beneath her dress, raking it up so his fingers could glide across her stomach and over her tights. His words made (Y/n) smile but she didn't quite believe him. She didn't feel like she looked that nice when her tights barely stayed up, her dresses didn't look right on her anymore and even Eddie's clothes were starting to become too small for her.

"Hm, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

The genuine disappointment in Eddie's voice had (Y/n) shivering and she leaned her head back on his shoulder, pressing her forehead against his neck. She felt him lean his cheek on top of her head while his elbows pressed into her waist so his arms could squeeze her lovingly into his chest.

"If my stomach gets any bigger I'll be flashing my chest or my thighs to everyone. Nothing will fit anymore." Her hands travelled down to hold Eddie's wrists and she lifted her head from his shoulder when Eddie leaned forward into her.

He moved his pointed chin across her shoulder so he could pepper kisses across the front of her neck, feeling each shallow breath she took.

"Then I guess you'll just have to live in our gym stuff until boy gets here." He punctuated each word with a kiss up and down her neck before he lifted his chin and connected their lips.

Both Eddie and Evan's gym gear was more stretchy and loose than the rest of their clothing and his words made (Y/n) smile. When the kids weren't home she often wore the boy's shorts and a bra if the weather was warm enough and she knew if drove them both mad.

Although, if this was (Y/n) going into labour, she wouldn't have to worry about clothes not fitting anymore. This would be her last day worrying about how much her stomach was going to grow. Her shape would start changing again in the next few weeks, but at least she wasn't going to get any bigger than this.

They broke apart when they both heard Evan shouting "Are we ready?" to get all their attentions.

(Y/n) was as ready as she could be. She felt Eddie press another lasting kiss to the side of her neck before he unravelled from her frame and let her dress drop back down around her thighs.

(Y/n) pushed forward and headed out of the room, trailing her hand along the wall again when her stomach twisted and shivers ran down the back of her legs. She had a feeling once she was sat down at the station, it was going to be hard for her to get back up again.

Her eyes locked with Evan's when she headed into the hall where he was stood with all the kids. Violet was jumping up and down, waiting eagerly to go get in the car, Chris was stood with a broad smile in his suit that made him match both his dads. And Poppy was in a dark red dress similar to (Y/n)'s, with white flower petals sewn into the hem and a red scrunchie in her hair. The two year old was as eager as Evan to get going.

"Do you think I look okay?" (Y/n) glanced down at her dress before she looked up at Evan who was suddenly in front of her with wide eyes full of hunger.

"You look beautiful." His hands found her sides and he reeled her in until her stomach was pressing into his abdomen and her hands found his shoulders.

Her head tilted to one side and she watched with a quickening heartbeat as Evan's eyes clouded over. One hand reached up to drag her fingertips over the light coat of stubble on his chin, wondering if he was trying to grow it out like Eddie. Evan wasn't usually one for stubble or a beard, he liked to be clean shaven, especially since the one time he had stubble a few years ago, Violet had cried and demanded he shave and 'be papa again'. But he looked good with it today.

Her weight shifted from foot to foot but she tightened her hand on his shoulder, trying not to make a sound when her stomach twinged. It didn't feel like a contraction, but it felt like something similar. Like her body was starting to get ready for what was about to happen soon. She couldn't help the way her knees bent forward and she leaned into Evan a little.

It was enough to grab his attention and cause a frown to paint across his face. His head tilted to one side and his hands gripped her hips while his eyes raked up and down, trying not to focus on her cleavage too much so he could try and see what the problem was.

"You okay?"

"J-just a twinge… I think someone's awake." She felt Evan's hands leave her hips so he could cup her stomach instead and his lips curved into a catfish grin that morphed when he pecked her temple.

"Are we going now?" Chris swayed back and forth and banged his crutches to try and gain everyone's attention when he noticed his dad walking down the hall.

Evan's lips curved into a wide smirk when he felt a kick beneath his palm and it only brightened his already ecstatic mood. He pressed a few more butterfly kisses against her temple and cheeks, running his fingertips across her hips before he leaned back and turned to face the kids.

(Y/n) curled both her hands around Evan's bicep and leaned into him while she felt Eddie's hand on her lower back.

"Two cars or one?" Eddie mumbled and reached down to scoop Poppy up so the toddler didn't try and run once the front door was open.

They had the choice of taking both cars down to the station or one of them driving the 'bus' as the kids called it. Which was just the seven-seater they had so if they wanted to go on days out, they didn't have to take two separate cars and split up.

"I'll drive the bus, come on let's hop to it." Evan circled the keys around his finger and opened the door, letting Chris take the lead and Violet take his hand as they headed out.

***

"Can we join you?" (Y/n) smiled shyly and looked over at the girl she classed as a sister.

A smile lit up Maddie's face and she nodded, waving at the seats when she saw her family standing by her table.

Everyone was filtering around the station, finding a table to sit at to wait for the ceremony to begin. And (Y/n) thought sitting with Maddie and Jee might be a good idea, especially since they would be close to the stage and all the kids would be able to see the boys easily from here.

She felt Eddie's hand on her shoulder as she slowly sat down next to Maddie and he stood behind her chair and kissed the back of her head. While Chris sat down next to her and Violet sat opposite (Y/n) so she could be next to Jee.

Violet was the eldest girl, being six, Jee was in the middle since she was almost four, and then Poppy was the youngest since she was two. But the three of them got along like a house on fire and were always wanting to be together and go out with each other.

"Okay baby, are you gonna sit with mummy while we go over there?" Evan bounced Poppy on his hip and moved her towards (Y/n), but he rolled his eyes when she tightened her arms around his neck and started to wriggle around.

She squirmed and whined, muttering no as she tried to glue herself against him to stop him from putting her down.

"You can't come up on stage with us, girlie." He pecked her temple before he sat her on (Y/n)'s lap.

As much as Evan wanted to stand up on stage with all the kids stood by their side, they couldn't exactly do that. But he didn't want Poppy to get upset or have a temper tantrum either. She was as clingy as she was cute and she didn't like being parted from any of her three parents.

She wriggled around on (Y/n)'s lap, whining and holding her arms out while her bottom lip wobbled, something that always made Evan give in and crumble like a cookie. But he didn't get chance to try and reach out to kiss her or try and bargain with her before Eddie leaned over and held her hands.

"You stay with mum and be good, and you might get to wear papa's medal, okay?" It seemed enough of a bribe to stop Poppy from having a mini meltdown and she nodded, managing a smile when Eddie kissed her cheek.

Evan murmured a quiet "Be good," to them all and gave Maddie's shoulder a squeeze before he and Eddie made their way over to the stage to stand with the others.

(Y/n) watched them both saunter off and it made her smile when Evan hid himself away on the back row like he was trying to blend in and make sure he didn't stand out. Tommy was the tallest, but Evan came in at a close second and he didn't want to stand at the front and block the other's views.

She let her eyes wander around the station for a minute while her arms tightened around Poppy and she kissed the top of her head. The ambulance and both trucks had been parked round the back so there was enough space for a party in here. And two other nearby stations were on standby so all calls could be redirected to them. Allowing the 118 to have the whole day off to celebrate without the risk of a callout getting in the way and disrupting everything.

When Poppy wriggled and stretched her arms out, a soft smile overtook Maddie's face and caused her eyes to crease.

"Aww, you wanna sit with me, honey?" She opened her arms and gladly let the toddler clamber from (Y/n)'s lap and onto her own. She wrapped her arms around Poppy and snuggled her close to her chest and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek.

(Y/n) smiled at the sight and looked across at the rest of the kids, noting that Jee and Violet were more than happy chatting away about something in hushed whispers. And Chris was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes set on both dads, just waiting for the speeches to start so he could begin clapping.

She twisted in her seat, moving so her back was straight against the chair and she was turned towards the left so she could face the stage and watch the boys.

But a twinge glimmered across her face when another contraction tore through her stomach. Her hand moved down to smooth circles into the lower part of her stomach but when the pain disappeared, she let out a shallow breath.

When the pain wore off, (Y/n) continued smoothing her hand along the side of her stomach and she slouched a little in her chair. A forced smile played on her lips so the boys didn't suspect anything was wrong.

At least this was still the early stages right now. They could get through the ceremony and the pleasantries and (Y/n) could try and last as long as possible before needing to tell the boys what was happening and cause some panic.

A sudden thought flashed through her mind and had her taking a sharp breath.

Her water best not break yet.

If her waters broke too soon she wouldn't be able to pass it off or stop anyone from knowing she was in labour. But if it held off, (Y/n) could breeze through the contractions like she had been doing for the last hour or so. She could push them aside and try to carry on with the celebrations. When she had Violet it had taken a long time for her waters to actually break, she got down to eight minutes between contractions before her waters broke.

With Poppy she barely went into labour an hour before her water broke and everything seemed to move swiftly.

"So, how are you?" Maddie turned Poppy around on her lap so both of them were facing the stage, but she looked to the left to smile at (Y/n) who broke out of her trance and came back to reality.

"Tired." (Y/n) smiled and leaned back a little more, slouching down so her back didn't hurt as much and she darted to look over at the clock on the far wall. She hadn't been keeping track of the timing. She needed to count the minutes between each contraction so she knew if she was close to having the baby or not.

Maddie and Chimney had seen first-hand how ill (Y/n) had been at the start of this pregnancy.

(Y/n) had been in and out of hospital with severe morning sickness in the beginning. Evan had come off a twelve hour night shift and then spent the next twenty four hours in hospital after he came home and found (Y/n) passed out in the bathroom, dehydrated after throwing up everything she had in her.

It took a while for the morning sickness to taper off, and it didn't help when she already had three other kids to look after. Which was one of the reasons Maddie had been round to their house so much, so she could try and help look after the kids and give (Y/n) a break.

It felt like the least she could do because when Jee was born and Maddie had been struggling, (Y/n) had stepped in to look after her niece. After Maddie took time to go and take care of herself, (Y/n) had Jee almost every other day to give Chimney a break and to help as much as she could.

"Well you look lovely, by the way. I love the dress." Maddie took a sip of her drink and reclined in her seat while she looked up and down the dress approvingly. The colour was lovely and it stood out well without making her look rounded or out of shape with her pregnancy.

"Thank you."

(Y/n) was used to the boys constantly telling her they thought she looked lovely, but that was different. They were her partners. They always thought she looked good, especially when she was pregnant. Hearing from someone else that she looked lovely boosted (Y/n)'s confidence.

Her figure had just started to change after having Poppy and now she was pregnant again, changing shape for a third time.

She smiled up at the boys on stage.

Eddie looked stoic. His face was calm and his lips were curved into a tender, blushing smile. Whereas Evan looked a mix between excited and nervous, trying to dampen down his smile so it didn't shine too brightly and show off how childlike he felt right now.

(Y/n) couldn't wait to see what the pictures would look like once they were uploaded in a few days. She wanted all the pictures she could get of the boys and the team as a whole.

Her spine clicked into place and she sat up straighter once it was time for them all to be awarded their medals.

Eddie looked almost pleased to get off stage and he managed to smile when the medal was hung around his neck. It made (Y/n) wonder just how long the boys would keep them on before they either put the medals in (Y/n)'s bag or pawned them off on the kids. It would be Eddie who would give his away first, (Y/n) knew that. Evan would be a bit more apprehensive to part with his medal.

The dark rouge blush that flushed Evan's face when it was his turn made (Y/n) smile. He looked so sweet with his nose and cheeks tainted pink and his neck flushed red and his smile reached those baby blue eyes.

She could see his hands fidgeting in front of his lap, scratching together to remain calm and composed until he could move to the back of the stage again and blend into the background. Not that he could ever blend in when in (Y/n)'s eyes, both her men always stood out.

As soon as the clapping started and everyone began to move, (Y/n) could hear all the kids cheering and bouoncing up and down like rockets about to take off into the sky.

It made her smile, but her smile faded when another contraction stabbed at her abdomen and had her leaning forwards. Her hand gripped the edge of the table and she took a sharp breath, pressing her lips into a thin line to muffle any sound and try to cover up her unease.

"You okay?"

She felt Maddie's hand on her wrist and she forced herself to nod and try to laugh. If Maddie knew she was having contractions, she would tell the boys straight away and then none of them would be staying for much longer.

(Y/n) didn't want to disrupt the ceremony in any way, she wanted today to go well and the boys and the kids to enjoy themselves. She wanted the boys to get the recognition they deserved and have a relaxed day with their colleagues where they didn't have to rush into dangerous situations.

Both the boys loved a party and (Y/n) wasn't going to tell them and ruin the atmosphere until it was absolutely necessary.

"Just back ache, God this boy's killing my spine." She wasn't exactly lying, her back did hurt a lot more than usual. Only last week her back had locked in place and Eddie had to sit on the kitchen floor with her for over half an hour until he could finally move her and stand her up without crippling her in agony.

She tried to sit back up straight and when she looked over at the boys, she grinned and looked around the table.

"Why don't you all go get a picture with dad and papa?"

Poppy was off like a shot, squirming out of Maddie's arms and squealing with her arms stretched out in front of her. She looked cute, like a little berry in her red dress, weaving between everyone who quickly moved out of her path so she could make a beeline for her dads.

She reached Eddie first who grinned and scooped her up, planting a kiss down on her cheek as he swung her round in the air before settling her down on his chest.

Chris and Violet followed swiftly after and Evan picked Violet up while Chris stood between them both. The five of them got a few lovely pictures together that (Y/n) would make sure she got printed and put in a frame at home.

Tilting her head down, (Y/n) looked down at her stomach while her lips pressed together tightly and her hand curled around the edge of the table. The sharp edge cut into her palm and she held her breath until her chest felt like it was going to explode, making sure she didn't make a sound at the familiar tearing feeling in her abdomen.

She almost jumped in her seat when she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders and a set of lips smothering the top of her head.

"Wanna come get something to eat, baby?" Evan's hands moved up and down (Y/n)'s arms as he leaned over the back of her chair and attached his lips to the side of her neck.

"No, m'not hungry." Her hand reached up to hold Evan's wrist and she gave a tight squeeze while her head leaned into the crook of his neck. She couldn't go and get something to eat, not when her stomach was churning and the contractions were starting to tear her in two.

"You and bubba aren't hungry? I find that hard to believe." Evan let go of her shoulders so he could curve his arms around her front and glue his chest into her back.

He couldn't well believe that (Y/n) didn't want anything to eat when she knew Bobby had helped make half the food on that buffet table. She and the kids were all suckers for Bobby's food, especially when she was pregnant. Evan was always delighted at the strange cravings (Y/n) had when she was pregnant and he loved that she actually had a proper appetite when she was pregnant- at least after the morning sickness wore off with this pregnancy.

"Not yet anyway," (Y/n) murmured back before she pecked Evan's cheek and clicked her spine into place.

"You'd better be quick, there won't be much left soon."

"Not with you and the kids nearby." A grin spread across (Y/n)'s lips when Evan swatted his hand down on her hip. "I'll come up and get a drink." She patted his arm before her hands moved to the table to try and ease herself up.

She felt Evan's hands shift to her hips and once she was up, he pecked her cheek and kept an arm curved around her waist as they headed over to the buffet table. Evan eventually unravelled his arm from (Y/n)'s waist so he could reach over and pass Chris and Violet a plate each.

He stood behind Eddie and rested his chin on Eddie's shoulder so he could kiss his neck, nudging his shirt collar out the way.

A shiver tore down Eddie's spine and he gruffed, trying not to move or make a noise when he felt Evan nipping at the side of his neck. He rose a brow and twisted his head to the right to look at his partner who was grinning into his neck.

"Don't mark me up." He kept his voice quiet so Poppy wouldn't take any notice since the toddler was sat on his hip, currently refusing to let him go.

Evan grinned and finally pulled away once a red slash appeared on Eddie's neck that he tried to cover with the collar of his shirt. He moved his free hand down to Violet's shoulder and let her stand in front of him while Chris stood between him and Eddie, all of them adding to their paper plates.

Eddie led the way back to the table with Chris following behind him while Evan stayed with Violet and pointed out the stuff she would eat. She was a fussy eater, most of the stuff on the table she wouldn't even try. Whereas Chris was like both his dads and ate anything, and Poppy would just pick and choose things from Eddie's plate.

Just as Evan was about to guide Violet back towards the table, he stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Uh, Buck?" Chimney let go of Evan's arm and reached to his right, daring to rest his hand on (Y/n)'s arm when she looked like she was about to collapse.

She was holding a pitcher of juice with a stack of paper cups in front of her, both of which she was about to take back to the table. But she stopped and leaned forward, her free hand pressed down onto the table that she prayed would take her weight and keep her stood upright.

Chimney could feel her shaking and she had her chin tilted down into her chest and her eyes were snapped closed. She wasn't saying anything but he would take a guess that she was in some sort of pain.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Evan let go of Violet's shoulder and gently nudged her to follow after Eddie before he moved to stand behind (Y/n).

"M-my back…"

A frown formed on his lips and he leaned over her while his right hand gently pressed into her lower back. A cringe tore through Evan and his lips formed a grimace when a loud click echoed through the air and he felt the crunch beneath his palm. Her spine had clicked into place.

(Y/n) let out a small sigh and finally opened her eyes, shuddering through her next breath, disguising the contraction with the back pain she was having. At least her back felt a little more flexible now Evan had unintentionally put it back in place.

"Thanks," She tried to smile up at Evan but it didn't make him feel any better, the concern was still plastered across his face.

"Let's sit you down, that didn't sound too good."

(Y/n) was inclined to agree, she wasn't sure how much longer they would be staying here if the contractions continued this strongly.

***

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) leaned forward until her head was hung over the table and her knees were pulled up against the underside of the tabletop. Her hand moved to jab into the side of her stomach, pressing as hard as she could to try and deflect the pain and distract herself.

Her teeth sank down in her lower lip so sharply blood started to well up on her tongue and flood her mouth.

The contractions were as strong as ever and they were starting to get closer together. She couldn't wait this out much longer. She was going to have to tell the boys and ruin the party, but they were having so much fun.

All the kids were in their element, drifting around to talk to everyone else and get pictures and cake and play games. Chris had been having a great time with Denny and chatting to Hen and the girls were all playing together and Poppy was being passed around like a present for everyone to admire. She had taken a shine to Bobby who had spent almost half an hour walking around the station with her, talking to people and showing her around.

A quiet whimper tumbled past her lips and her body started to shake as her knees juttered against the table that was empty, apart from herself.

Once the pain started to subside, (Y/n) tried to sit up straight in her chair but her lower back felt like it had been broken and her abdomen was on fire.

She took a sharp breath and pushed up to her feet. She needed to walk around before her legs turned numb and she broke down in tears. Sitting there going stiff wasn't going to do her any favours, she needed to be up moving about.

Her hand pressed to her lower back and she grabbed her phone from the table when she looked across at the other side of the station. She could take some pictures. That would be enough to distract her and bring a smile to her face.

She could barely find the strength to put one foot in front of the other but she did her best, shuffling more than walking, to try and get as close to the make-shift dance floor.

Her heart swelled and a flutter of adrenaline coursed through her chest when she looked at her family.

Eddie had Violet's hands in his and the eldest girl stood so close she was almost standing on his feet. A bright smile lit up his face and creased his eyes as they danced and swayed from side to side and every few seconds, Eddie would shimmy Violet from left to right to make the hem of her dress spin and flutter.

Then there was Chris who was stood with Evan and Bobby, the three of them doing some sort of strange dance similar to the Macarana.

And Poppy and Jee were in the centre of the dancers, their hands tangled together, their knees bending and both of them were spinning in slow circles, doing their own sort of dance. They were the cutest sight. (Y/n) wondered how Evan wasn't over there taking dozens of photos or trying to join in already.

(Y/n) moved to the edge of the make shift dance floor, rubbing her left hand in circles along her back while she set her phone to record and slowly pointed around the dance floor. Capturing all of her family and friends enjoying themselves to the music, even Chimney and Maddie were up swaying to a rather upbeat song.

After a few moments, (Y/n) switched to taking photos and shuffled a bit closer while a tense smile pulled on her lips.

When another contraction hit, (Y/n) swallowed down a groan and let herself crease forward a bit to ease the tension and try to make the pain more bearable. But the pain seemed to extend and shake down to her feet and her thighs quaked together as her knees felt like they were going to buckle.

She didn't realise had doubled over even more until a groan tumbled past her llips and she suddenly realised tears were welling up in her eyes, ready to flush her face.

For a split second, Eddie looked away from Violet and glanced his eyes around the room. He knew (Y/n) hadn't eaten anything yet and she had been unusually quiet at the table earlier. But he couldn't see her sitting at the table any longer.

He scanned his eyes around while he twisted Violet to the left and let her tug and sway on his hands. But his lips fell from a smile into a confused frown when his gaze locked on his partner.

She was bent forward at an odd angle with her hand on her stomach and her other hand was shaking to the point she looked like she was about to drop her phone.

"Go to papa a minute, baby." He leaned down and pecked the top of Violet's head before he pointed her in Evan's direction.

Once she toddled off, Eddie weaved through the few other people dancing or letting loose, his hands moving to reach out for (Y/n) in case she lost her balance or crashed to her knees. His hands found her elbows and her felt her shudder and almost jump back until she realised who it was stood in front of her.

His thumbs smoothed up and down the creases of her elbows and he waited for (Y/n) to look up at him, but she wouldn't. Both of them looked down when (Y/n) grabbed his forearms and groaned.

Water trickled down her legs into a puddle at her feet.

Her waters had broken.

"Oh God. Buck!" Eddie twisted his head to the left and reached one hand out to beckon Evan over to them. They had a situation now.

He gently pulled (Y/n) closer to him and sidestepped a few paces until they were closer to a table and away from the dance floor. His brows rose when (Y/n) tightened her hold on him and pressed her forehead into his chest. There was no hiding now. (Y/n) couldn't play this off or pretend she was fine, not now her waters had broken and Eddie had seen her in agony.

"You're in labour, aren't you?" His lips hovered beside her ear and he gave her arms a squeeze when (Y/n) didn't bother to look at him, she just hummed.

Eddie nodded more to himself than to (Y/n) and let go of her arm so he could cup the back of her neck. He thought she looked uncomfortable earlier when the rest of them were eating and (Y/n) went quiet. He had seen her wriggle and try to get comfy or become uncomfortable when she tried to get up.

But they were thirty-five weeks along now, labour technically could happen at any point, although Eddie wasn't expecting it this early.

"Since when?" He murmured against the side of her head, a sense of authority in his words but a shiver ran down his spine when (Y/n) didn't answer him. She just stayed tucked up against his chest.

Both of them felt Evan hurrying up beside them. One hand clamped down on Eddie's shoulder while his other hand held (Y/n)'s elbow to try and keep her stood upright. She looked like she was about to go down on her knees. And Evan hadn't missed the small puddle of water on the floor when he rushed over. He could gather what had happened here.

"Baby, did your water break? Have we gotta go?" He rushed through his words, looking between both partners before he spun to glance behind him.

The music was being turned down and he could see Maddie and Chimney reaching out to stop the kids from rushing over or thinking something was wrong. There was no need for the kids to panic.

"Let's go sit down."

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and managed to lift her head when she felt the boys move round. Eddie was on her left with an arm curved around her back and her hand tangled with his. And Evan stood on her right, nodding silently at his sister when she pointed to her stomach and murmured 'the baby?' across the station.

Her legs felt like they had turned to jelly, she could barely lift her feet anymore but when another contraction tore through her stomach, (Y/n) stopped. Her temple flopped against Evan's arm and she tried to swallow down a groan as her knees bent and she tried to crouch down between the boys.

She didn't want to be stood up any longer. She wanted to kneel or sit down and she couldn't make it to a table.

The shallow, panting breaths she let out made Eddie's chest tighten and when (Y/n) started to groan and shake, Eddie looked between both partners.

"Do not tell me you're pushing already."

The growl that vibrated after his words made (Y/n) whimper and she looked up at him through hooded lashes that almost made him melt. She could feel the deep breaths he was taking to try and stay calm and she all but shuddered when Evan held her chin and tilted her head up in his direction.

"How long have you been in labour?" His arched brow and stern lips set in stone told (Y/n) not to bother trying to fob them off or pretend she wasn't sure. If she was close to pushing she had to know how long she had been having contractions. And neither of them were going to be impressed if she had kept this from them for longer than twenty minutes.

"S-since this morning?" It came out more of a question than an answer and tears trickled down (Y/n)'s face when Evan swore and a dark "This Morning?!" grumbled past Eddie's lips in retaliation.

"Christ baby, why the Hell didn't you say something?"

A tear rolled down (Y/n)'s cheek and made Evan's heart break and regret his words instantly. He wasn't trying to argue or get into an argument but he couldn't help how upset it made him that she had been suffering and in pain for ages and neither of them had known that she needed help.

"I'm sorry. I-it's your day-"

"Nevermind that mi amor, we need to get in the back room, we can't transport if you're already dilated."

Eddie didn't care for apologies, she didn't have to say sorry for not telling them, no matter how upset they might be that (Y/n) had clearly suffered all day without letting them know. They had to sit her down and get her checked over because if she was almost fully dilated, it wouldn't be wise to move her until after she'd had the baby. Unless they all felt like having their fourth baby in the back of the 118 ambulance.

"Can you watch the kids?" Evan looked across at his sister who nodded, Poppy already in her arms so the youngest didn't try and run off after her parents. While the three of them changed direction to aim for the locker room. It was the closest room without having to drag (Y/n) down the back corridor or hike her up the stairs.

"Hen I'll need a medic bag."

She was already off to get the kit whilst the three of them blundered into the locker room just as (Y/n) cried out and doubled forward. She was glad when Eddie moved to stand in front of her, moving her hands to his shoulders while his hands clamped down on her hips and held her up. He let her face smother into his chest and he held tight when she bent her knees and tried to hunker down.

They could both hear Evan muttering curse words under his breath while he shed his blazer and tossed his tie to one side. He made quick work of rolling up his sleeves before he went down on his knees behind (Y/n) and murmured a soft 'Let's have a look.'

Both men were suddenly glad they had taken their medals off almost as soon as they got given them. Chris was proudly wearing Eddie's medal and the last Evan saw of his, Poppy had been parading around with it, showing everyone the red ribbon that matched her name and her ruby red dress.

"Shit, you're crowning already. This is gonna be the first baby born in the station."

"I'm sorry-"

"Hey, no use apologising. Let's focus on meeting our boy, hm?" Eddie smothered his lips against the top of (Y/n)'s head, smiling into her hair when his eyes locked on Evan. Their partner was knelt on the floor, breathless and smiling proudly.

They didn't have to wait any longer to meet their second boy and even out the score to two boys and two girls. Their next bundle was about to arrive and Evan couldn't wait.

"Did I hear that right?" Hen questioned as she dumped a medic bag and some towels down beside Evan and reached out to hold (Y/n)'s hips. "Maybe we should sit you down, honey. This is baby number three for you, they're not gonna wait around."

Eddie carefully leaned (Y/n) back into Hen so he could shed his blazer and tie like Evan, before he went back to holding (Y/n). He and Hen turned her around and slowly lowered down to the floor with her in their hold.

She let herself ease back into Eddie's chest and tipped her head back on his shoulder while his arms cocooned around her waist. His chin perched on her shoulder and made a shudder run through her skin.

"Okay baby, keep pushing, you know what to do."

(Y/n) let out a groan and moved her hands until Eddie took the hint and deadlocked their hands together. He smothered his lips against the side of her head and pushed his chest forward into her back to keep (Y/n) sitting upright. While Evan had a towel over his lap, knelt between (Y/n)'s legs with Hen at their side getting the equipment out ready.

(Y/n) snapped her eyes closed and tucked her face into Eddie's neck, letting him curl around her like a blanket and smile against her temple.

"You're so close now, mi amor. What a way to celebrate, eh?"

Tears started to flush down (Y/n)'s face as a broken cry tore from her lips when she pushed forward and felt Eddie shuffle up behind her to keep her sitting upright and prop her up. He peppered his lips along her neck and over her cheek while he looked over her shoulder, grinning through tears when Evan shuffled forward with his hands stretched out.

"Head's out, one more push."

(Y/n) could see stars twinkling in front of her eyes and all the blood seemed to swim through her head. This felt so much quicker than the first time with Violet, possibly even quicker than when they had Poppy too and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"Good girl, you've done it. This must be a record for us." Evan kissed her knee and felt her fingers shakily drag across the back of his neck while he looked down at the bundle in his arms.

And Eddie cupped his hand beneath her chin and gently lifted her head and let it fall into the crook of his neck. He pressed his lips against her temple and brushed his thumb up and down her cheek when he felt all the tension leave her body.

Her trembling hands reached out when Evan knelt between her thighs and carefully laid their boy on her chest. She could barely hear his cries from the static pulsing through her ears but she could feel his hands batting down on her chest and his cries vibrating through her ribs.

"You know it's supposed to be our day off, right?" Hen mused with a cheeky smile and she couldn't help but lean over to get a look at the new addition.

A lopsided grin flooded Evan's face as his hands smoothed up and down (Y/n)'s exposed thighs, both to comfort her and help get some circulation back through her legs. He leaned forward and pecked her lips, looking down at their little boy before he looked up and caught Eddie in a quick kiss.

"The kids are gonna be thrilled." Evan glanced to the left and took a peek through the doorway.

They knew both Chris and Violet would be bouncing off the walls right now, desperate to see their parents and their new brother before they had to go to the hospital. But all of them knew Poppy probably wouldn't be happy that now she wouldn't be able to stay with any of her parents. She would have to make do with her aunt or her grandad Bobby for a while.

Eddie kissed her temple again and reached a hand down to brush his thumb along their son's cheek.

"Thank you for the present, mi amor."

"Yeah," Evan mused, tangling his fingers with Eddie's on top of their son's chest. "This is better than any medal."

#imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #eddie diaz x reader #evan buckley x reader #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #eddie x buck #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #buddie

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golden1u5t · 1 day

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i’ll guide you | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: spencer goes down on you for the first time.

"Ive never done this before." Spencer muttered shyly as he situated himself between your thighs, he looked up at you before adverting his gaze to clothed cunt that was directly in front of his face. You smiled at him and ran your fingers through his hair, trying to soothe his nerves.

"That's okay, do what you think is right and i'll guide you."

Spencer nodded his head and swallowed the lump in his throat, he knew that the first thing he needed to do was take your panties off, so that's what he did. You could feel his breath on your cunt, you didn't urge him forward or rush him.

Spencer took a deep breath and tried to recall all the things he knew about the female anatomy, he knew that a woman's clit at thousands of nerve endings so he couldn't go wrong with starting with that, right? He hesitantly licked through your slit before pressing his tongue against your clit, your body jolted and your hand tightened in his hair, he took that as a good sign.

"Good, baby. You're doing good." You smiled at him. Spencer wrapped his arms around your thighs and pressed into you more, he started to get bolder with each noise you made. Your head fell back and your eyes closed, a soft moan falling from your lips. You felt Spencer's finger hesitantly press against your entrance before he pulled it away. "You can use your fingers, it's okay."

Spencer looked up at you for a quick second before closing his eyes, he brought his fingers back up and he carefully pressed them into you. You gasped when you felt his slender finger press into you. Spencer closed his lips around your clit and gently sucked, opening his eye and looking up at you to see your reaction.

Spencer kept pumping his one finger inside of you until you told him that it was okay to add another one. Your moans increased in volume as time went on, you couldn't figure out how it was his first time doing this when he was already so good at it.

You made sure to tell him how good he was doing and how good he was making you feel, every time he would respond with his own moan or whine. You could feel the knot tightening in your stomach as Spencer worked you to your release.

Spencer curled his fingers before taking them out and replacing them with his tongue, you cried out and held him into your cunt as you came on his tongue.

"Holy fuck, Spencer-" You huffed and fell back onto the bed. Spencer pulled away from your cunt and wiped the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand but not after trying to lick it off first, he found himself actually enjoying the taste of you.

"Can- Can I go again? You taste so good." You looked at him and chuckled, reaching out for him.

"Give me a minute, pretty boy."

ꨄ a/n: i don’t know why i’ve been so slow on my blog lately, i literally have to worst case of writer’s block on my wips and no motivation to post all those old works. i’m going to do a little spam and hopefully that will get me motivated to do the repost.

#golden1u5t #myrarants #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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ghouljams · 17 hours

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Reverse fae au Ghost Words: 5.5k Rating: M (Minors DNI) Tags: Ghost x f!oc, fae!oc, Ghost pov, slow burn horror, magic, time loss, stalking, predator/prey, dubcon/noncon, manipulation, panic attacks, piv sex, gore, erotic cannibalism(?), Ghost's family lives, Ghost is in therapy too bad it's not gonna save him, (debatably) bad end Summary: Simon Riley saves his family, so why does it feel like he still lost them? Years later he sees a woman in a bar, one he can't seem to shake. a/n: thank you Ghost for infecting my dreams a year ago, I'm going to destroy your life now <3

Simon Riley stands, blood soaked, in a little apartment in the heart of Manchester. His chest heaves, panting as he stares down the beaten and broken body of his former brother in arms. Washington is dead on the black and white tiled floor of his family's flat. His blood pools under Simon's feet, and Simon tips his head back, eyes squeezed shut to avoid the overhead light, as he draws in a sobering breath.

"Simon," His mother breathes, "What did you do?"

He’s not the oldest, but he's the man of the house. He's supposed to protect his family from anything that would hurt them: his father, Roba, now Washington, someday maybe even himself. "My job," He tells her over the sound of his own frantic heartbeat.

Ghost stands at the bar while the rest of his comrades laugh. Their booth in the corner is full of jokes and gentle prodding. He checks his watch, fishes for one of the pills in his pocket and swallows it dry. These new SSRIs Beth's doctor has him on are helping. The nightmares aren't as bad, he's feeling things again. The days are long but they're not interminable, sometimes that's all he can hope for.

He glances over his shoulder at the men in the corner booth. Price claps a hand on Soap's shoulder as Gaz grins. It's warm over there, a family away from his family. He wishes- no, he's too greedy. He's happy with what he has, with the life he's built for himself. At the price of only one life he thinks it's well worth it. He should visit his mum while he's back in the UK, take advantage of some of the leave Price is always hounding him about. He's only glad he was able to convince his little family to move closer to base. Mum was hard to convince, but after Washington… It's hard to sleep knowing there's still blood rotting under your kitchen floor. Joseph didn't need to grow up watching people avoid half the kitchen.

“Jus’ a wa'er,” Ghost tells the bartender, “‘nother round for those sods though.” He nods back at the 141. He should grab something for the kid while he's got time. No sense being the favorite uncle if he can't spoil the bugger. Never mind he bought a whole house just so the kid could have a garden to play in.

“That's sweet,” a voice coos at him. Ghost glances left, following instinct to fix his gaze on a woman at the end of the bar. Despite the low lights and crowd she's glowing, in her element. Pretty, Ghost thinks, and sort of… pink. Her lips, anyway, are pink when they curve into a smile. He turns back to the bar, must not have been talking to him. And why would she be?

“You have a big heart,” her voice husks in his ear, her hands trailing down his back. He swats at the buzz, like shooing away a gnat and turns to look at her. The space behind him is empty. She's still at the other end of the bar chatting with someone, her pink lips moving in a dull hum of conversation. There's something about her, something that prods at the back of his eyes, like an incessant alarm blaring. She doesn't look dangerous, but then again the pretty ones never do. It’s the fuzz, he thinks, he must be tired if the edges of her are starting to get blurry, he’ll grab the next train after this round. The bartender sets three pints and a glass of water in front of him, and Ghost is forced to look away from the woman.

“Cheers,” he nods to the bartender, setting a few notes on the bar and grabbing the glasses between his hands. No trouble getting them back to the table, people are too eager to jump out of his way. Although he's not sure if it's because of the mask or the size of him.

Ghost passes pints to waiting hands, nodding along as Soap gives his best impression of a joke. Gaz shakes his head, but his smile speaks volumes. Price keeps his eyes on the door despite his relaxed posture. Really all of them do. Even through the squint of laughter Soap and Gaz’s eyes scan the room, always on guard for a potential threat. It's strange, Ghost pulls the seat out and doesn't feel the need to glance over his shoulder. He angles it on instinct, but his eyes touch the men he’s with rather than the crowd. It's the first time he hasn't felt like jumping out of his skin with his back to the door. Must be the new meds working.

“Give your mum my love,” Price tells him and Ghost is forced to bring his attention to his captain.

“‘oo said I’m goin’ ta see my mum?” He replies, fingers itching against the cool glass.

“Ya always run off the see ‘er,” Soap chides.

“I think it's sweet,” Gaz chimes in.

“S’why I like you Garrick,” Ghost leans back in his seat, “ya stay outta my business.”

“Doing my best sir,” Gaz grins, clinking his glass against Ghost’s.

“My job to know your business,” Price smiles, leaning against the table.

“What's Mactavish's excuse then?” Ghost jokes, eyeing the scot. Soap balks, presses his hand to his heart like he's offended.

“Ahm yer best mate, ah cannae care about ya?” Soap says, doing a truly impressive impression of puppy dog eyes. Ghost snorts into his glass and shakes his head. It's easy to fall into this rhythm with them. The few people in this world he can trust, the few people who understand what it means when he says he has people to protect, people to get home to. Fighting the bad guys to make the world better, so he never has to see his family look at him like that again.

Ghost’s fingers tighten on his glass, splintering cracks running under his hand. Soap settles a hand on his shoulder and he takes a breath. Fine. He's fine. Anger is controllable, his emotions are controllable, he’s not ruled by fear anymore. He repeats it like a mantra. He lives, he takes another step forward and he lives. Soap pats his shoulder twice as his grip loosens.

“How's that new girl you're seeing?” Price asks, the false nonchalance sold for everyone else in the bar but no one at the table. The therapist, he doesn't need to add. Any direct acknowledgement of it, of the pills, tantamount to a discharge. Ghost is grateful, truly, the Price fudges his paperwork, for all of them.

“Be’er than the last one.” His answer earns a nod, a smile.

“Right, well, won't keep you from your family,” Price sniffs, “but I expect you in for morning PT at 0700.”

“Rog,” Ghost nods, finishing his glass and pushing back from the table, “Gonna enjoy sleepin’ on a real mattress.” Gaz grumbles into his pint while Soap glares at him. Ghost smiles, and gives a short two fingers wave before stuffing his hands in his pockets and heading out.

The walk to the tube station is short. The street lights break up the darkness, the moon a thin sliver overhead, and the air is just at the edge of crisp. Spring is starting to break into summer. He always misses the stars when he’s in the city, misses the pinpricks that fill the sky in the desert. It feels too romantic to mention to any of the guys, anathema to the image he’s created. There are parts of him that still don’t feel like they fit, pieces he’s still trying to find in the wake of everything. It’s been a good few years and Ghost still can’t call himself whole, but he’s trying.

He texts Tommy from the train platform. It’s late, but neither of the Riley boys have ever been heavy sleepers. His phone buzzes with a message before the train arrives, Tommy letting him know he’s got a spare key. Ghost huffs a laugh, the hand in his pocket pressing fingers against the jagged teeth on his key ring. He sends a thumbs up, and switches to one of the stupid color games his mum convinced him to download. He’s just cleared level 1506 when he hears laughter drifting down the steps of the platform.

A glance back, his phone closed as his shoulders draw back to attention. Old habits die hard, you can’t take the military out of the man. He relaxes minutely seeing the woman from the bar. She hangs off her friend’s arm, smile wide and eyes glittering. His brows draw down, a sharp pain hitting his temple. There’s a moment, when she opens her mouth to speak, that he sees the peaks of sharp teeth. He turns away, presses the heel of his hand against his eye, trying to clear some of the fuzz away that seems to be infecting his vision. He glances at the woman again and finds her eyes boring holes through him, unblinking and unafraid of being caught.

Ghost holds her gaze, the fuzz tingling at the edge of his vision, black creeping into his periphery. His ears ring, and the train rushes to the platform. He turns to move out of the way of the doors, to check which line this is, and his ears pop. He winces, must not be used to the tube after such a long deployment. He slips onto the train, taking one of the open seats. He watches the doors close, and the train moves from the platform, the woman tips her head and he feels something pitch behind his ribs. It feels like avoiding a proximity mine, hearing the explosion behind him and knowing he dodged something big. He pulls his phone out to give the next level a go.

Ghost is woken up in the morning by a four year old not even a third his size jumping on his chest with enough force he almost thinks he’s taken a mortar round. Only to hear the fit of giggles that follows him tossing the little bugger off of him. Christ. Ghost drags a hand down his face, feeling the scratch of stubble as Joseph climbs over him. Tommy walks past the guest room door, and then backpedals to raise a brow at his brother.

“Thought Beth took ‘im to daycare already.” Tommy flips one end of his tie over the other and tugs the tail through the knot he’s made.

“Guess she’s got me babysittin’.” Ghost grumbles, pushing himself up onto his elbows. Joseph drops down to sit next to him.

“You mind?” Tommy asks, peaking in the dresser mirror to adjust his tie. Ghost shakes his head.

“Long as ‘e doesn’t.” Ghost scratches his chest, glances at Joseph who stares at him. Little shit grins a gap toothed smile and Ghost pushes him sideways onto the mattress. More giggles as Joseph kicks at him and tries to escape his iron grip.

“Daddy help!” Joseph shrieks, earning a hum from his father and a grab from Ghost. The kid is hauled against Ghost’s chest and then grabbed around the ankles to hang as Ghost stands from the bed.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Tommy tells him, patting Joseph’s stomach. Ghost follows him out of the guest room, swinging the kid as he goes. “Mum’s at her club today, and Beth’s got an event tonight.” Tommy says, half talking to Ghost, half talking to himself as he grabs his bag for work, “pub later?”

“Don’t see why not.” Ghost rumbles, lowering Joseph to the carpeted floor. The four year old kicks his feet at Ghost’s hand and rolls towards his father. Tommy’s quick to scoop the kid up with a grunt of effort.

“Gettin’ too big for this,” Tommy grunts, earning a hug around his neck and a soft ‘I love you daddy.’ Something about the scene aches behind Ghost’s ribs. A glimpse at the life he isn’t supposed to have, the broken cycle that he never thought he’d get out of. Maybe he got too far out of it. “‘Ow long’re you in town?” Tommy asks, setting Joseph down.

“Few weeks.”

“Welcome to stay as long as ya need.” Tommy pushes his kid towards the living room and Joseph wanders off to play. Ghost snorts.

“‘S if it isn’ my ‘ouse.”

Tommy grins, and holds his fist up. “Drinks on me then.”

Ghost bumps his own fist against his brothers with a smile. “I’ll ‘old you to that.”

Watching the kid is easy. Keeping a hold on him? So much harder. Being on leave gives Ghost a great opportunity to cement himself as favorite uncle. Which means taking his nephew out. Ice cream, playground, new loud toy that’s sure to piss off his parents. Swear to God this kid needs a leash though. Joseph’s little hand leaves Ghost’s big one as he sprints off down the street after something. Ghost swears loudly and makes his way after the booger.

“Joseph,” He calls after the kid, his little head bobbing down the street, “Come on you little shit.”

It’s not busy, but there are enough people still dragging their feet from lunch to be a nuisance. Ghost’s never lost a target before, but most of his targets have at least three feet of height on Joseph. Someone bumps his shoulder and the sharp swear Ghost throws at them costs him a second of sight. His eyes dart back to the street and Joseph is gone.

The fear that grips him is unlike any he’s ever felt in the battlefield. It seizes his lungs, holds his ribs tight so he can’t take a breath. His eyes dart around for Joseph, for the little red jacket the kid insisted on wearing, the striped trousers, he can’t find him. A brainwashed soldier, and four years of Tommy’s parenting, Joseph could survive all of that, but one day with Ghost and he’s gone.

Ghost’s breath comes short, his eyes nearly vibrating with how quickly they scan the area. Red coat, striped trousers. Red coat, striped trousers. Red coat, striped trousers.

The walls may as well be closing in on him. Dirt rains down from the sky. The coffin closes. The jaw bone digs into the palm of his hand. The worms and beetles crawl over his skin as he digs and digs, suffocating on the dirt that’s still loose in the grave. The road breaks into an open square and he stands watching the parade of people that filter through it. It’s open air, so why does he feel like he’s suffocating?

He turns to look towards the road he just came out of, the buildings seem to wave and curve in towards the people walking its path. Back towards the square. The shops feel closer, the store fronts opening like mouths to lure in an unsuspecting child. Red coat, striped trousers. He eyes the fountain, the couples that sit on the edge of it unsuspecting that the shallow water could drown a kid Joseph’s size. Strangers brush past him, eye him, their coats and rushed steps might hide a squirming victim.

Ghost’s hand grabs a passerby by the arm, his fingers tight as he turns manic eyes upon the man. The older man startles, his eyes darting over Ghost’s form, obviously frightened by this sudden confrontation. He lets him go, his attention returned to the square. The man hustles away from him, his hand gripping the space on his arm where Ghost had grabbed him with a wince. Not that Ghost notices, his mind too focused on the thing he’d lost. He takes a step further into the square and the people in it part like the red sea.

Red coat, striped trousers, and a flake.

He breaks the surface of the water, his eyes landing on Joseph as a woman crouches next to him. She pushes his hair back, glancing around at the crowd as his nephew bites into the vanilla soft serve. Something hurts, pushes insistently, behind his eyes. It needles at his brain, scratches at some old wound. It doesn’t matter, nothing matters but making his way to his nephew. Damn everything else.

The woman glances up at him, her smile splitting her face, wide and toothsome. “Such a big heart.” She coos. The ringing in his ears grows louder with each step, louder and louder until it’s deafening. It hurts. A man passes in front of him and Ghost all but throws him out of the way. He scoops Joseph up off the cobblestone, pressing his forehead against the kid’s temple. Joseph squirms, his ice cream falling from his hands and down onto the ground.

Ghost heaves in a breath, squeezing Joseph tighter against his chest. Christ he thought he’d lost him. The pressure seems to stop the kid from complaining about the lost ice cream, pushing instead against Ghost’s chest to be released. Ghost transfers him to his hip and checks him over, any cuts of bruises, a single hair out of place. He straightens the red coat, pinches his cheek, tips Joseph’s head to kiss the top of it.

Almost lost.

“Where she go?” Joseph asks, twisting in Ghost’s arms.

“Scared the shit outta me,” Ghost huffs, ignoring the kid’s looking around in order to take him back up the street. See if he sets the little man down until they get home.

The house is empty when Ghost wakes up the next morning. There’s no patter of little feet, no shout from Beth that Tommy’s going to be late, only the smell of coffee filling the kitchen. There’s a note letting him know who will be back when. He tugs it off the fridge and crumples it in his hand to toss into the kitchen trash. He’ll go back to base, look over some paperwork. It’s tedious work but at least it passes the time.

Ghost sits on the tube, tapping at the bottles on his phone screen. It’s nearly empty, a few stragglers making their way into work, a few people heading home from long nights, and Ghost. The train stops at its next station. The doors open, there’s a slight pressure change, Ghost glances at the few people that board and goes back to his game.

A woman sits down beside him.

He doesn’t look up, but he does scan the rest of the train. Open seats galore. She crosses one bare leg over the other, the tip of her heel bumping his leg. If she expects him to move she should have sat somewhere else. He keeps his legs spread wide, his elbows on his knees as he taps away at his phone. One bottle filled with pink liquid sparkles upon completion. He stalls looking at the rest of the bottles, the colors mixed together in varying degrees. His mind pulls different possibilities, different patterns.

A manicured finger taps at his screen, one bottle upending into another. Ghost glances at the woman as she presses close, her eyes fixed on his screen. She doesn’t look at him, her finger tapping again and again as Ghost watches her eyes move. Long lashes and full cheeks. Pink lips. He winces, jerks away from her as her nail digs into his thumb.

“Oops,” She blinks.

Ghost looks at her, his heart feels like it’s about to pound out of his chest, his eyes ache like he’s attempting to focus on too many things at once. There’s a splitting pain in his head. He squeezes his eyes shut with a grimace and watches the colors pop behind his eyelids. He can’t control his breathing, it feels erratic, his brain is too focused on systems that should be involuntary. He forces his eyes open again, stares at his reflection in the window across from him. The woman beside him sits prim and proper reading a book three seats away.

He can still feel her pressed against his side. Did he hear her move? Feel her move? There was no change in the air, no movement, no shifting, her warmth didn’t fade, her pressure didn’t fade from one moment to the next. She was beside him and now she’s not. His eyes watch her through the warped glass. Her reflection wavers, changing with the rattle of the train car. She flips the page in her book, tips it to read in the low light. Romance novel, Ghost notes.

A glance down at his phone. Blood is smeared over his screen, streaked in fingerprints smaller than his own, his game boasting a completion trophy. His thumb is red, the congealed blood no longer contained to the shallow wound just below his nail. He raises the digit to his lips and cleans the blood with his tongue.

Eyes bore holes into the side of his head, but when he looks at the car everyone seems to be minding their own business. It makes his skin crawl. The tension in his shoulders tightens.

Ghost scratches his nail against the blood drying on his phone screen. His blood, dragged by an unfamiliar hand.

The train pulls up to his station, and he stands. Phone locked and pocketed, he glances at the bird again before departing. She doesn’t look up from her book.

His head is pounding as he steps out into daylight. A migraine, it must be. He hasn’t had one of these in a while, still as debilitating as the last one. Maybe he should go home. Ghost turns to head back down the stairs, he’ll text Price and let him know he couldn’t make it. He bumps into someone. Hands settle on his chest, holding him up, steadying him, and then-

And then they sink into his chest. Soft hands push past his ribs, push into his skin like dipping into water, his flesh non newtonian to the hands that hold him. His eyes hold the woman’s, as her fingers wrap around his lungs and squeeze. No. Not his lungs, his heart. Her fingers grasp his heart, holding on tightly, reverently. She presses close, her chest against his, hands releasing to continue their path through him and wrap around his spine in some sick impression of a hug.

“You’re lonely,” She breathes, “I can fix that.”

Ghost hands the guy at the gate his ID and waits for him to check the ledger. It seems to take ages. The man even radios Price to be sure he has the right man. When Ghost does finally get through the gate the migraine that had been building on the train is in full force.

His fingers hardly make a dent in the throbbing at his temple. The sound of footsteps drums against the inside of his skull. The blood pounding in his ears makes him queasy. His stomach flips, and he nearly upheaves his breakfast. Price catches him by the shoulders. Chill drips down his spine, mint fills his nose, then ginger. He swallows the magic his captain presses into him and sets himself right again.

“You broken?” Price asks, the low rumble of his voice just touches concern. Ghost drags his hand over his eyes, glaring at the recruits that scurry past the two of them.

“No sir,” Ghost swallows again, and feels the sting of ginger creeping up into his nose, “Must’ve-”

Price grabs his face, his thumbs pulling at his cheeks, inspecting the whites of his eyes. He tips Ghost one way then the next, inspecting him. His eyes narrow, and Ghost resists the urge to swat his hands away. Ghost doesn’t pretend to understand his captain’s inspection, his mannerisms. “Magic”, “witchcraft”, he’s seen the jars that line Price’s office, read the briefs the military keeps redacted beyond legibility, and it still feels like bullshit. Until Price gets his hands on him.

“I got somethin’ on my face?” Ghost asks when Price has been quiet too long. His captain’s lips have drawn tight, and lets him go.

“What’s the date,” Price forgoes answering him. Ghost frowns but indulges him. Price mirrors his frown.

“By how much?” Ghost fills in the gaps in Price’s frown.

“A few days,” Price sighs, “Your mum called.”

“What’d you tell ‘er?”

“Nothing I can’t deny later.”

Ghost nods slowly. He can’t- the last thing he remembers was getting off the train, then making his way to the gate. Not unusual, he’s walked the route enough times he can shut his brain off, but it’s all black. He can’t remember a single part of the walk. He feels over his jaw, he’s shaved recently. A few days? His family knows better than to ask about his work, he’ll just tell them he got caught up in paperwork and crashed in the barracks.

It’s not a nightmare, Ghost knows that much at least. There’s no blood, no cramped space, no pain. There are soft fingers carding through his hair, humming. The pillow he rests his head on shifts slightly as the woman above him leans over him. She smiles, her fingers tracing over the scar that cuts through his brow, and down his crooked nose. The light overhead is soft, the air warm on his skin. Her hair halos her, casts strange shadows over her face.

Ghost raises a hand to cup her cheek and she leans into the touch. He feels lighter, his chest, his limbs, the tension melted away under the careful touch that drags over his skin. Something sharp and teeth gnashingly dark batters against the back of his mind. It scratches behind his eyes.

“They don’t understand, do they?” She asks. Who? Ghost wants to ask, but his tongue feels like lead. She drags her finger from his hairline to his chin, and back up, and back down. His head follows, nodding along with what she says.

“They never will,” She pouts, and Ghost’s brows twitch, “Poor thing.”

“No,” He manages to unstick his tongue, the scratching behind his eyes is growing more insistent. Ghost turns his head to look at the room, his cheek touches skin. So he’s on her lap. He takes a breath, something soft and floral filling his nose. It bursts pink and fluffy in his vision, clouding what he sees. The room feels fuzzy, he can’t focus his eyes. Dreamlike, he supposes.

“I understand you,” She breathes, “you love with blood in your teeth.” She moves his head, turns him to look at her again. “I could love you, and you’d never be lonely again.”

His eyes focus on her face. Pretty, electric. Her eyes are too bright, her lips too perfectly carved, her skin looks like glass, she shines with some magic he’s never seen before. She’s fuzzy when he blinks. His heart clenches tight, his grief washing over him. He wants to see her again. It feels consumptive, like a fire burning through him. To love with blood in his teeth, to cut his lips on a kiss, to dig his hands into her thighs and carve his name into her, what bliss that would be.

“Stay with me,” She bids. Ghost swallows, she turns to kiss his palm, he forgot he was touching her. Her skin feels like it’s melting into his, she clings to him. Her lips part and he feels the sharp scratch of her teeth against his palm. The pain shudders through him, lights up the dark howling thing locked in his mind.

She purrs as his hand wraps around her neck. Possessive, wanting. Blood in his teeth, he thinks to himself. Blood on his hands, on his kitchen floor. He can still see the look on his family’s faces, the horror, the fear in their eyes. Scared of him.

He’s just like his father.

Ghost jerks awake in the barracks. The spartan walls, painted in an attempt to seem more homey than the bare stone. The mattress is familiarly shitty. He drags a hand down his face. It’s dark. When did he drag himself away from the mountain of paperwork that had made its way onto his desk?

He sighs, pulls his knees up to rest his elbow against them as he scratches his head. His dream is already fading from his mind. Not that it made much sense to begin with. At least he wasn’t back in that damn flat. He’ll call his mum in the morning, let her know he’ll be home for dinner. She must be worried.

It’s still light out when Ghost leaves base. His back is killing him. Hunched over papers all day as Price piled more on isn’t his idea of a good day at the office, but shit needs to get done. Price had been looking at him strangely all day but hadn’t said anything. When he’d finally snapped at him to either say something or close his eyes, Price had threatened him with insubordination. It felt hollow, but the weight of it settled over his shoulders heavy enough to keep him from snapping again.

At least he let him go at a decent time. Ghost checks his phone, barely five. So why is the tube station so empty? There’s no one on the platform, and there was no one going down the stairs. Suppose that’s good. When he’d tapped his card it didn’t work, felt like a kid hopping the turnstile, be pretty embarrassing if someone had seen him do that.

There’s a woman on the other end of the platform. She wipes at her face, the sound of her sobbing carrying to his end. Ghost watches her for a moment. Her shoulders shake, and he can just barely hear the short sniffles that come with tears. It’s a strange feeling being the only two people in the station. It doesn’t feel real. The air doesn’t touch his skin, and there’s no sound save for the soft crying.

“You alrigh’ love?” Ghost asks, his voice booming in the small space. He grabs his head at the sharp throb of pain. The space warps, his vision swimming. He closes his eyes, to try and stem the wave of vertigo that washes over him. Maybe he should have stayed on base, gotten examined.

Christ what is he talking about?

He opens his eyes with a shake of his head, some of the pain dissipating. He looks down at the crying woman. He shouldn’t have yelled when she’s so close. She looks up at him with watery eyes and sniffles. Her pretty pink lips curve down into a pout, almost comical how exaggerated it is. He’s only ever seen Johnny wield that level of frown.

“I’ll be ok,” She tells him. Her manicured fingers swipe at the tears that roll down her face, “Thank you.”

Something in her voice makes his blood throb, and push against his circulatory system. He feels stuck, like his feet are glued to the platform. He can’t move his head to look away from her. She’s pretty when she cries. That must be it. She makes him want to hold her down and see what else he can do to make her sob and beg.

“You’re welcome,” Ghost mumbles. Hands around her neck, he’d bet she likes that.

The thought itches against the inside of his skull.

“Would you walk me home?” She asks, “You get off at -” how does she know his stop? “-it’s not far from there.”

She touches his arm, drags her nails up and down. His head follows.

He remembers Price telling him once that magic is about exchange. You can’t get something from nothing, he’d been told. Which seemed like bullshit. What’s the point of magic if you can’t do the impossible with it. Only human, Price had griped at him, you want a miracle try religion.

“What do you want?” The woman in his arms whispers, her lips dragging along his jaw. His hands grip her hip, pulling her up and down his cock. She feels like a furnace, her soft gummy walls clinging to him desperately as he thrusts into her. Her hands squeeze in his chest, pluck at nerve endings and drag nails down his lungs. It hurts. He tips his head to kiss her. He’s never tasted anything sweeter than the honey that drips from her tongue.

What does he want? He wants to fuck her, and keep fucking her. He wants to hold her in his arms and never let go. He doesn’t want to be lonely anymore, always hovering on the outside of humanity. He wants his family to be safe, to never worry about anything ever hurting them again. He wants to be an asset to his team. He wants to lick her cunt. He wants to bite bruises on her thighs. He wants to melt into her. What does he want? What doesn’t he want? He’s greedy, sinking his teeth into any meal he can stomach.

His teeth press against her throat. He wants to feel her blood between his teeth.

She’s laughing, bright bubbly giggles that pop against the walls with a spark of something. She pushes him back into the mountain of pillows, her hips rolling against him with a fluidity that feels unnatural. He stares up at her, his skin buzzing with her, his mouth, his teeth aching to latch onto her again.

“Say my name,” She grins, her teeth sharp and her nails cutting.

“Love,” He breathes.

“What do you want?” She asks again.

“You.” Ghost’s heart pounds, his voice feels weak. Damning.

“That’s right,” She tells him,

And rips his heart from his chest.

#simon ghost riley #x oc #cod x oc #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #cod x reader #x reader #f!reader #simon riley #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #fae au #oc: love #fae!reader #fairy!reader #dark fic

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fremulon · 1 day

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Crowley was rather proud of the Employee Hellpline. There had been a contest, about twenty years back, to create the most confusing phone structure possible, and Crowley had won. (He'd got inspired by calling up a telecom company to cancel service. Despite the fact that he'd made the call without an account, he'd left having agreed to a phone/television/Internet bundle and two magazine subscriptions.)

What he’d forgotten was the fact that he was an Employee, and thus had to navigate the labyrinthine obscurity of the Hellpline every time he needed to put in a request for a little extra power or office supplies. Fortunately, he didn't tend to make many calls; unfortunately, this meant that any insight he gained into the pattern had generally evaporated by the next time he had to face it.

Which was how he came to be sitting in his car, twenty minutes late for lunch, being informed in a monotone that he’d better listen carefully to the following menu, as options might have changed.

“For complaints about colleagues, press 1. For complaints colleagues made about you, press 2. For accounts payable, press 3, then 8, then turn the phone around and repeat. For accounts receivable, enter your ID in reverse. For all other financial requests, spell the first 10 pages of the Bee Movie script using your keypad. For—”

There was a knock at the window. “Are you quite all right?” Aziraphale said.

Crowley rolled the window down, half-listening to the phone menu. “Sorry I’m late—”

“You weren’t late. You drove up twenty-five minutes ago and took the ‘Reserved for Customers of AZ Fell & Co’ spot. So no actual customers have been able to park here this entire time. Which is dreadful,” Aziraphale added happily.

“This concludes the menu. Make your selection in the next four seconds or this call will be terminated. Four…three…” Crowley racked his brains attempting to remember whether accounts payable was 8, then 3, or— “Good-bye,” the voice said, with gloomy satisfaction, and hung up.

“Ahhh, sanctify it.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to get this reimbursement through. I had to buy eighty live bats for this work thing, and apparently that kind of order can’t go through the normal process. So I’m on the Hellpline. But this consecrated phone—”

“Didn’t you design the system?”

“Might’ve done.”

“May I?”

Crowley hit Redial and placed the phone in Aziraphale’s outstretched hand.

Aziraphale listened thoughtfully to the first list of menu options, then tapped the phone. He listened a bit longer, tapped twice more, said, “Mammal, not otherwise specified,” and handed it back.

A voice crackled in Crowley's ear. “Accounts payable, living creatures from twoscore to nine dozen. How can I hinder you today?”

“One sec,” Crowley said, and moved the phone away. “How’d you do that?”

“It was yours, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“I suppose I simply know how to thwart you,” said Aziraphale smugly. “Go on,” he said, nodding at the phone as he got in the car. “We’re late.”

#good omens #good omens fic #go fic #long post #aziraphale/crowley #ineffable husbands

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thesummerestsolstice · 1 day

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I absolutely love the idea that Elrond took one look at Annatar and immediately disliked him. He just instantly failed the vibe check. And the best part is about that is that there are so, so many reasons Elrond might've immediately mistrusted Annatar, ranging from drama to comedy. I've compiled a few of my favorites below:

Vague, Luthien-related "not this motherfucker again" senses (always a classic)

Something about Annatar reminded Elrond of Maedhros's description of Sauron, even if he couldn't quite connect the dots at the time (good if you want to be emotional about Kidnap dads)

Annatar's general attitude really didn't fit with his story that he was an emissary of the Valar (if you want to be pro-Valar)

Alternately, Elrond fully believed that Annatar was from the west, but had serious problems with the Valar and didn't trust anyone they'd sent (if you want to be anti-Valar)

Vague foresight visions (for a metaphysical reason)

Elrond thinks that Annatar's appearance in Lindon is just a little too politically convenient (for a very practical reason)

Galadriel had warned Elrond that something like this might happen (I would also listen to Galadriel)

Annatar was being really, really unsubtle about being evil and Elrond was just the first person to point out that maybe the guy asking around about the best way to poison an elf without being caught shouldn't be allowed to stay in the city (Annatar got better at the whole 'evil in disguise' thing in Eregion)

Elrond has already heard enough traveling salesmen in his life and doesn't have patience for another one (Lindon really needs a 'no soliciting' sign)

Annatar made a vaguely offensive comment about Elrond being a half-elf and Elrond ran out of tolerance for that roughly an Age ago (good for him!)

Annatar said that Lindon needed a Maia, and excuse me, Lindon is already under Elrond's protection, it does not need another Maia wandering around causing problems! (Maiar territoriality my beloved)

Annatar said that Gil-Galad needed a Maiarin advisor, and, excuse me, Gil-Galad is Elrond's king, he does not need another Maia to whisper jokes to him during meetings, or to tenderly braid his hair, or to be his messenger bird. Elrond does all that perfectly fine, thank you! (Maiar territoriality, good for them edition)

Annatar and Elrond would've gotten along fine if Gil-Galad had bothered to introduce them properly, but seriously, you can't just toss them in a room together! Everyone knows that Maiar need time to acclimate to each other's presences first! You have to use a wall to separate them for a couple days! (did Gil-Galad even do his research before allowing a Maia-adjacent being to be his herald?)

Elrond absolutely refused to explain his reasons but everyone still listened because at that point they knew nothing good came from ignoring his warnings (smart choice)

#silmarillion #silm headcanons #elrond #elrond peredhel #annatar #sauron #gil galad #galadriel #eldritch peredhel #feel free to add more reasons in reblogs #elrond and annatar hating each other my beloved #also maia-ish Elrond my beloved

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strawb3rrystar · 2 days

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Cork screws and bottle caps.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Aphrodisiac, Virgin! Reader, Mad corruption kink, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Nipple play, Reader doesn't give verbal consent- but consent is given, Tom is obsessed with the reader, P in V sex, Overstimulation, Creampie, VERY DARK THEMES - I'm sorry I went a little insane while writing this

Word count: 2,056

✰Masterlist

Tom had recently picked up a new fascination with potion making. And you were the naive witch who agreed to be his test subject. He wasn't stupid however, he already knew what the potion would do to you. But you didn't have to know that fact.

Your feet hung off the edge of his bed, his dorm nestled in the Slytherin tower, his favorite place in the whole castle. Maybe he was a hypocrite for it, but he liked the way people's skin crawled when they walked near it. You cupped the bottle in your hands, swirling the liquid a little.

"Remember to drink all of it."

You look up at the brunette standing before you, giving him a soft nod of your head. You bring the bottle to your lips and close your eyes when the strongly sweet liquid starts filling your mouth. Tom watched you down the potion, a grin spreading across his face as his plan is set into fruition. Once you were finished he took the empty bottle from your hands, setting it on his desk. He then picked up some parchment and a quill, prepared to write down your reactions.

"It should take a few minutes for it to work."

Tom informs you, scribbling something down. It wasn't anything important, he wasn't here to write a paper on you. He admired you sitting on his bed. Your uniform skirt came just below your knees, frilly socks adorning your ankles. That was one thing you always liked about Hogwarts, the option to choose the bottoms to your uniform. Most girls chose the pants option, but you always admired the frill of a skirt.

Tom liked that about you, it's why he specifically asked you over every other girl. Your naivete, your innocence, the fact that you were so trusting of him. There was a rumor that you had never even kissed someone yet. A complete virgin, and he wanted to be your first. After a few minutes of waiting, your body started to feel hot. And tingly too, as if your senses were heightened.

"What was that potion..? Is it supposed to make me feel all hot?"

Tom smiled at your soft voice, a clear panic set in your eyes. You nervously fiddle with your fingers, waiting for a response. He placed his hand on top of your head, then moved it down to cup your cheek.

"It was an aphrodisiac, love."

He said it so calmly and sweetly, as if it was the most normal thing and you were stupid for questioning him. He loved the confused glimmer in your eye. You had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into.

"It makes you.. aroused."

He was going to use more innocent terms for you, but decided it would be better if he was blunt. Your eyes widen, heat pooling in your lower abdomen.

"Why.. why would you give me that?"

Your questioning voice was adorable. The way you tried to act tough, but the slight quiver in your voice gave you away. Tom brings his the end of his quill under your chin, holding back a grin.

"I told you. It's for research."

He discards the parchment and writing utensil, leaning closer to you. You lean away from him, your breathing turning into distress. Tom doesn't back away, so within seconds your back is pressed against his mattress. A smile spreads across his lip, his hand touching your thigh. He caresses it for a few seconds before pushing your skirt up your legs. You instinctively clamp your legs shut, a look of distain crosses his face.

"I thought you wanted this?"

You struggle to find the words to reject him. You didn't want your first time to be like this. But you couldn't stop the aching that came from between your legs. You needed him and you knew it. He shifts to fit in between your thighs, kisses the inside of one.

"It's okay, love. I'll take care of you. Make you feel good."

Tom didn't wait before pulling your underwear off, tossing it to the ground. He stared in awe at the sight of your dripping cunt. He imagined having you like this a million times. Pounding you into the mattress, making you cum so many times that you pass out. But to actually see you bare in front of him, it was like a dream come true. He moves his hands under your thighs and lifts them up a bit. Bringing his face closer to your heat, you held your breath in anticipation. His tongue gives a teat swipe up your folds, pulling a gasp out of you.

Tom's heart jumped at the sound, he wanted to see what other sounds he could drive out of you. So, he buries his face in between your thighs, immediately licking up your clit. A whimper escapes your lips and you cover your mouth with your hand. Tom's lips wrap around your bundle of nerves and suckles. You moan so sweetly, bucking your hips up into him. He works hard, sucking on it a little harsher, twirling his tongue around it. He moves his tongue to your precious hole, swirling around it as well. Tom prodded at your entrance, listening to your moans and whines. Then he pulls away from your cunt, looking down at you.

"You're so needy for me, love."

He brings his fingers and picks up some of your arousal with the pads of them. He rubs his fingers on you clit, making you thighs twitch. Tom does this for a second before bringing his digits to your entrance. He starts pushing his middle finger into you, making you gasp and you eyes widen.

"Have you not touched yourself before, baby?"

You shake your head no, biting on your lip to hold back your moans. He slightly chuckles, his other hand unbuttoning your uniform. His finger continues to push into you and soon it's buried to his palm. Tom wiggles it, causing you to squirm. He pulls your button-up off your chest and pulls down your bra. You whine when his hand roughly grabs one of your breasts. He shushes you, thrusting his finger in and out of you now.

Tom brushes his tongue over your nipple then skillfully takes it into his mouth. His finger continued to slowly thrust into for a few minutes before adding a second one. The feeling of the stretch caused you to dig your fingers into the green duvet that covered his bed. Your pussy made an embarrassing squelching sound, revealing how wet you were. Once you adjusted to his second finger he thrusted them faster into you.

Your moans were so sweet, so perfect, just for him. Tom wanted to capture them in a bottle and carry it around in his robe pocket. He never wanted to see you talking to one of those useless Gryffindor boys in the Great Hall. He wanted to be the only one you looked at that way. The more Tom thought about it, the more frustrated he got. He abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, licking them clean.

"You taste so delicious, my love."

He made quick works of his clothes and the rest of yours. Admiring your body for a second, he lightly trails his hands over your abdomen down to your hips. He places him self in between your thighs, his cock painfully hard and leaking. This is what you did to him. Turned him from a high level wizard to a low level slut. Tom wanted to take his frustrations out on you. To break you until you'd forgotten every spell you learned. You wouldn't need magic if you were with him. He'd give you a good life, an easy life, away from the dangers of the wizarding world. He would provide a better life than any Gryffindor or Hufflepuff ever could.

Tom bumps the head of his cock into your clit a few times, watching you squirm. Then, he guided it into you, effectively making you hiss in pain. The stretch was worse than his fingers, it felt like being split in two. Your eyes clamped shut for a second as tears began to slip from your glassy eyes, reaching out for him. He complied, lacing his fingers with yours and pressing your arms into the mattress. Tom didn't want to wait for you to adjust however, he was growing impatient within seconds. Maybe this could be punishment for all the times you ignored him before. But, he made the rash decision to push into you fully, bottoming out. In response you let out a cry, nearing a scream. Your body slightly thrashed, trying to get away from him.

"Stop that. You wanted this, remember?"

His voice was demanding now and it felt like a total tonal shift that would make your head spin. Tom grabs your cheeks in his hand and squeezes, making your lips pudge out. You clench around him and he groans. It was enough to make him start moving, and his pace wasn't slow either. It was rough and unforgiving. You weep from the pain, your legs shaking. Yet you couldn't vocalize the words to ask him to stop. Would he even if you asked? You hoped so. You really hoped so.

It took minutes of his deep thrusts for the pleasure to come to your body and the pain melt away. It came in a rush, a sudden flip of a switch in your body that had your head rolling back. Noticing you weren't crying from pain anymore, Tom picks up the pace with his thrusts, his hips smacking into yours. As your moans pick up again, he buries his face in your neck, softly kissing it. Soon you felt a twisting, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

"Tom.. I feel weird.."

He grins at that and you could feel it against your skin. He pulls away from your neck, looking down at you. His free hand presses against your stomach, feeling where his cock reached inside of you, while his other still held yours.

"It's okay. Just let it happen, love."

Tom continues his fast paced thrust, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Your body trembles as you cum, clenching hard around him. He fucks you through your high, but doesn't show any signs of stopping. You whine when his lips pull away from yours, your body feeling like a sauna. Sweat clung to your skin as your cunt pathetically wept around him. Tom drunk in your fucked out expression, feeling himself get closer.

He speeds up even more to bring himself to release. But that in turn overstimulates you, bringing your body close to having a second orgasm. Tom brings both his hands to grab your hips, making sure your body is firmly against the bed. That left your hands free and you opted to grab onto the duvet again.

"I'm going to cum inside you- Because you're mine from now on."

Tom says in between groans. And he meant it too. The both of you moan for each other, his names falling out of your lips like a spell. Your eyes roll back, focusing on his rough, fast, deep thrusts. The bed beneath you squeaked and you hoped that no one else could hear you. Like the rush of running water you came again, clenching around his cock like a vice. You cunt sucked and pulled him in. He felt drawn to it, like he couldn't live without it, or your adorable expressions. Studying the sight of your trembling body, he came right after you. Filling you up with his cum.

After you both calm down from your intense high, he pulls out of your swollen, messy cunt. Laying down beside you, he pulls you into his arms. He made a mental note to clean you, and his bed up after resting a little while. Tom kisses the side of your head, praising you for what a good job you did taking him. You never expected today would be the day that you had your first kiss, lost your virginity, and got a boyfriend. But you did, and honestly, you probably couldn't be more satisfied with your day as the potion wore off.

"I love you, so much, darling."

"I love you too, Tom."

Star's notes -> This is my first fic to ever reach 2k words. Anyways, as per the vote, here is the Tom Riddle aphrodisiac fic!

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> No one :[ | Join the taglist

#☆strawb3rrystar writes #harry pottter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom marvolo riddle #slytherin #slytherin x reader #slytherin imagine #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys smut

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whitexwolfxx310 · 12 hours

Text

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? || Part 2.

Pairing: Dom!Bucky x Sub!female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level. The reveal!

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, unprotected sexual intercourse (p in v), don't forget no glove no love, edging, asphyxiation, fingering, mild dirty talk, language, praise kink, masked man kink, stalking, harassment, implied harm, breaking in.

Word Count: 5.4

A/Ns: Hi babes! Sorry this took an extra day than intended. Tumblr is being super finicky tonight, I’ve edited and re-edited this so many times. If there’s mistakes just ignore. I hope you like the conclusion!

In case you missed it, Part 1

You didn’t sleep much the next couple of nights, and decided to take some time off of work. Bucky finally reached out, and you updated him as to what was going on. He immediately offered to come home, which you refused and started to downplay the situation.

Hailee has been great with letting you borrow some clothes and little things, since you only grabbed a small bag in a rush before heading to her place to stay a few days ago. You’ve been dreading going back to the apartment, scared to find someone in there waiting for you. But it’s at the point where you need to grab some of your stuff.

Walking into the apartment, it was eerily quiet and uncomfortable. But nothing looked out of place, and was exactly how you left it. Deciding not to spend any longer there than you had to, you promptly tossed a large duffle bag onto your bed and started stuffing it with clothes and any other necessities.

Zipping the duffle closed, you felt a light gust of cool air. Scanning your bedroom window assuming it was the source, you realize it’s open. You never open this window. In fact, it’s always locked. All of the hair on the top layer of your skin stands up to the extent it almost feels like tiny pinpricks. Flight mode is instantly activated; before you can even think, you grab the bag and run, practically tripping over your own feet out of the room.

Grappling with the door knob, the pure panic starts to set in. Just as you’re twisting the knob open, you hear a distant bang coming from another room in the apartment. You freeze at the realization:

I’m not alone.

You know when you’re watching a scary movie and yell at the tv, wondering why the one of the characters was so fucking stupid to do something?

Well, you did exactly that. What possessed you in that moment, you haven’t the faintest idea. But, with your heartbeat pounding in your ears so loudly that you thought your eardrums might rupture, you started to turn around to look.

What primitively catches your attention isn’t what you expected, but quickly makes your chest tighten. The fruit bowl on the kitchen counter that is normally overflowing with lucious, red delicious apples, now just has all apple cores.

The flashback of one being on left on the countertop after Bucky had left blazes in your mind. It suddenly makes sense. Bucky would never leave a mess and it wasn't long after that you saw someone outside your window.

Attempting to swallow the growing dryness in your throat, you continue to turn around. And that's when you see him for the first time. About fifteen feet away, stood an obviously immensely tall man. He wore thick, black shiny leather boots that gleamed lightly in the natural daylight within the apartment. Fitted black jeans with a loose, black hooded sweatshirt that failed to hide how muscular and broad his chest and shoulders were with the hood pulled up.

But two things stuck out the most about his appearance. First, was the tight, black leather gloves he wore on his hands that were currently clenched into rigid fists. The second, was the fact that you couldn't make out his face. All you could see was an elongated paleness, caverned by the blackness of the hood, and it seemed... sinister. He didn't move or make a sound. It was as if you would blink and he would be gone, like a cloud of smoke.

But if anyone was going to disappear, it was going to be you. So taking a chance, you ran. And you didn't stop running. Even with the faint vibration in your pocket alerting you to the new text notification on your phone, you kept going.

It wasn't until you got back to Hailee's place and frantically, out of breath explained to her, that you even remembered about the text message.

"Here," You toss the phone in pure detestation onto her bed, "I don't even want to fucking know what it says." You lean against the opposite wall of her bedroom, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to control the body shakes as you come down from the adrenaline.

Hailee watches you for a brief moment, still not having said much aside from asking if you were okay. Her expression was soft and sympathetic and yet had an dissenting undertone. You couldn't blame her, this all sounded absolutely insane.

Letting out a small, exasperated breath, Hailee sits on her knees from her previous crossed legged position and grabs your cell. As the screen comes to life, her teeth clench down reading whatever is on the screen.

“What?” The concern is evident in your voice as you pry away from the wall, though still holding onto yourself.

Hailee inhales deeply through her nostrils, faking a tightlipped smile, “it’s nothing,” her tone is flat. She’s lying. Clicking the sleep button on the side of the phone to make the screen go black, she makes her way off the bed, “hey, how about we head down to the cellphone store and get you a new phone and number?” She asks, trying to sound like her usual carefree self as she grabbed her crossbody bag.

“Hailee,” you uncross your arms and step in front of her, forcing her to make eye contact, “what is it?”

Searching your eyes, you can see that she is torn. She wants so badly to do the right thing, but isn’t sure what exactly that is in this situation. On one hand, she could just keep it to herself. Let the unknown and curiosity eat you alive from the inside out like it inevitably will. But only because she wants to protect you, shield you from anything that brings you the opposite of joy. Or, she can show you what you’re actually dealing with, and the two of you can come up with a plan and handle it together. Hailee decides on the latter.

Hesitating, her hand shakes slightly as she holds out the phone to you. It appears that now both of you will take this predicament more critically now. Grabbing the phone a tad more aggressively then you meant to, you unlock it and open the messages. But it's not often Hailee gets rendered quiet. Scrolling through the back to back texts, you understand why.

Taking your best friends advice, you immediately went to the cell phone store. She tagged along as you got a completely new phone and number, not transferring anything over, not wanting to take the risk. You didn't download any social media, deciding to take a much needed mental break for a bit. The only thing you did do, was take a few phone numbers that you needed out of your old phone, and even then you wrote them down on a piece of paper to manually add them into your contacts later.

Walking out of the store, you felt as if a weight had been lifted. Hailee locked arms with you, leading you around the corner to the nearest cafe to get iced coffee. It was her answer for everything. Bad day? Iced coffee. Need a pick me up? Iced coffee. Need to clear your head and just ramble about random shit for a bit? Iced coffee. Your best friend has an apparent stalker and we're hoping that changing phone numbers is the end all solution?! Obviously, iced coffee.

Sitting at a small table outside the cafe, enjoying the slight crispness in the fall air, you let out a huge, relieving sigh that makes your shoulders sink. You take the opportunity to add Bucky to your contacts and text him your new number. Although, you decide not to go into detail about your most recent encounter while he's still away on a mission.

Putting the phone down on the table and not have it incessantly go off with calls and texts, let's you feel as though you can finally breathe. "Thank you for coming with me, Hales, I really appreciate you."

Hailee is sucking the remnants of her drink through the straw as she looks up at you. She gives you a small, genuine side smile, "you're welcome," before smirking, "so I'm supposed to have a date tonight, with that guy Noah I've been seeing..." she leaves it open ended. "But, I should totally cancel after everythi-"

"No, please. Go out and have fun. You've been dealing with my shit enough," trying to make your words sound affirming, even with the lingering dread that you still felt.

That's one thing about Hailee. You never quite really have to twist her arm to do anything.

After showering and changing into your comfy jeans and oversized cropped sweater, it was hard not to feel the slightest tinge of jealousy watching Hailee do her finishing touches for date night in the mirror. Jealousy in the sense of missing Bucky and going out and having a carefree night, not in comparing yourself physically.

She swipes yet another layer of clear lip gloss on before fluffing her beach wave blonde hair. Turning to face you, her thick heels clack on the wooden floor as she starts adjusting her boobs in her sleek, dusty rose colored dress.

"What do you think?" Her hands glide down over her curves, "Dress is okay?"

"That dress is fire," and it is, she looks amazing. By the smile she's wearing, she's feeling it too, "too bad it's going to end up on Noah's floor ten minutes into your date." Hailee dramatically gasps, as if that's not true. It totally is.

You're both laughing until she abruptly stops, "I have to go!" She gives you a quick hug and starts scurrying towards the door, a bit awkwardly in the heels, "Bye! Love you! Lock the door!" As she goes to close the door behind her she yells back in, "don't read too much smut on your kindle while I'm gone!" and the door slams.

Shaking your head with a small laugh, you lock the door. Hailee just gave you the perfect idea of how to spend your night.

About an hour had gone by, you comfortably laid in Hailee's spare bed, a few chapters deep into your latest book. It was quiet, so when your phone vibrated on the bed next to you- you jumped slightly. Assuming it was Bucky finally having the chance to text you back, you pick it up fairly quickly. But the message you received isn't what you expected at all.

Before even unlocking the phone, you had a text alert from Unknown. There was nothing written, but all the way to the right of the alert, you could see a picture was included.

Promptly, you sat up in the bed and stared at the notification. That familiar wave of unease dispersed throughout your body as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over your head.

This phone number is only a few hours old, how the fuck did he get it already?

The notification banner and you were in a staredown. You had to know what the message was, but you were absolutely terrified at the same time. Your thumbs hover, occasionally twitching over the screen, until you pull the trigger and swipe up.

Us. Hailee...

Driving to your apartment, you broke nearly every single traffic law that there is. The entire time you tried calling Hailee’s phone back to back, just repeating the same mantra; please pick up. Please, please pick up. She never did.

“Hailee!!” You run through your apartment door, not having to mess with it for long as it was already unlocked. You had a feeling it would be. “Answer me!” You yell, breathlessly. The apartment is eerily dark and quiet.

Coming to a halt in the main living space, you whipped your head around looking for clues and try to listen for any signs of distress. But it was so difficult to hear anything over your own breathing and pulse drumming in your ears.

You knew where you had to go, the last picture of your friends dress laid out on your bedspread was the roadmap. The bedroom door was just barely closed over, a creepy orange glow lining it and trying to escape from underneath. Each step closer that you took, felt as if a large spider made entirely of ice was crawling down your spine.

Pushing the door open slightly with just a fingernail, you peered into the room. You knew this is exactly where this person wanted you. For what? There’s only one way to find out.

There didn’t seem to be anyone in the room, so you took a few small steps in. The glow was more prominent now, giving the room an uncanny romantic ambiance with numerous amount of white candles lit all along the dressers, night tables, and bookshelves.

Taking a broad step forward, your attention is now focused on the bed. Hailee's dress is no longer laid out like it had been in the picture. Instead, there are flower petals sprinkled across your comforter. The intriguing curiosity drew you even more into the room without you even realizing. Picking up one of the petals, you rub it between your fingers, feeling it's supple and delicate smoothness as you examine it more closely. In that moment you recognize it- the familiarity of it's dark appeal. They're black dahlia petals.

Some of the petals congregated in one particular area on the bed, revealing an elegant, black gift box about the size of a large book. Your lips part slightly as you pick up the box, captivated by it's alluring magnetism. Taking off the lid, your brows furrow slightly in confusion. It's a chain. A long, thick slip chain that looks like a necklace but almost long enough to be a leash.

As your finger smoothes over the cold indentations of the chain, you hear a creak come from the floor behind you. In a startled jump, you drop the box- a slight ringing sound deafens the scene even more from the chain hitting the floor. But that's not your concern. Because as you turn around, you see him.

Within arms reach, you are confronted with the person that's been behind all of this. He's even taller up close, broader. Dressed in all black attire, this time swapping the black hoodie for a black t-shirt and black leather jacket. And without the hood, you're able to see the elongated white face from earlier.

It's a Ghostface mask.

He stands as still as a statue, watching you intently, waiting. Your eyes persist in looking him over as your chest rises and falls deeply. When your gaze meets his face once again, his head creepily tilts ever so slightly to one side.

"What's the matter?" He speaks, his voice deep and low, "you look like you've seen a ghost," the tone almost mocking.

Squinting your eyes, you look at him again. And this time you really look at him. His body frame, the clothes, the familiarity of his voice. Your eyes widen at the realization.

"Bucky?" you gape, completely stupefied. Taking the first fearless step in what feels like months, you wrap your arms around him. He returns the sentiment and you feel safe, for the first time in what feels like forever. It suddenly dawns on you that he's not actually on a mission. And probably never was.

"What- What is this?" You ask, looking up at him, slightly pushing the mask up to reveal his stubbled chin and promiscuous grin.

"There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it..." He repeats back the words you said to him a few months ago watching the Scream movie.

The memory of you how you told him about this kink of yours curls around your mind. That this entire time, you were never in any kind of serious danger, he just brought it to life. Weeks and months of preparation went into this, here, tonight. You should have known all along that Bucky would never have been so nonchalant about you in any type of significant situation. You're safe. You always were and always will be.

The tiny icy footprints that had trailed up your spine were long gone, now replaced with a burning and tantalizing desire. You've missed him, thinking he was away while you were dealing with this on your own. But now he's here, fulfilling your deepest desires.

Looking up, Bucky's Pacific blue eyes are already gazing down into yours, a built up and unsatisfied hunger prominent. Moving up onto your tiptoes and grabbing him behind the neck, you bring down his head and capture his lips.

Your mouth parted his, gliding and massaging his tongue with your own. A low growl reverberated from within his throat with approval, and promise to make everything up to you tenfold. Bucky's intoxicating cypress scent fills your nostrils as your inhaled deeply, pressing your breasts up into his chest. Taking off the leather gloves and shrugging his jacket onto the floor, his hands started to wildly wander around your body, giving light squeezes on your hips before settling and interlacing gingerly in your hair.

That didn't last long, though. There was a sudden and hard tug from where Bucky held your hair, enough to pull the two of you apart. The aggressiveness of the gesture was unexpected, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't fucking love it. His eyes linger on your already swollen lips, now wearing a pursed, provocative grin. His hand releases the tight grip he had on your loose curls, watching the relief from the sting flash across your eyes. Bucky has always been tender, gentle and using your body as a place of worship-but tonight is different.

Grabbing the hem of your sweater, he maneuvers it up and off to join his growing pile of discarded clothes. Dropping to his knees with a loud thud, he undoes the button and zipper of your jeans, pulling them down and weaving his tongue along the freshly exposed skin. Hissing through your teeth, your hips instinctively press forward. He lets out a dark laugh, before grabbing the chain you dropped before. Standing back up, he takes your hand, "Come," he says, leading you towards the cornered edge of the mattress.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, his muscular body causes it to sink slightly. His free hand, still holding the chain, grips his own thigh before giving it a light pat, "Sit," he commanded, again keeping that firm edge in his voice that you weren't used to. You enthusiastically follow his orders, sitting delicately facing outward in just your matching ivory lace bra and panties. It's hard not to notice how you just fit. And how much you secretly love his significantly large frame pressed against your much more petite body in comparison to his.

The soft tip of his nose runs along the outside of your neck, his large hands coasting along your shoulders, down your arms, sides, before settling on your thighs. The calluses on his hands leaving a sensational trail of tingles and heat to disperse under your skin.

"Look," his head nods forward once to get your attention, and now you see the reason why he sat you here. In the corner of the bedroom, just a few feet away, is a full length standing mirror angled perfectly to reflect everything.

You see yourself, already flushed with arousal and breathing heavily as you make eye contact with Bucky in the mirror. His devious smile pins you in place as you watch his hands pry open your legs, entrancingly over his. They willingly spread open wide for him, your restless hips now squirming, aching for more. His fingertips trace small circles on your inner thigh.

"I want you to see your face as you fall apart, " he taunted, his voice sultry in your ear, still holding your gaze in the mirror. His middle finger skims across your already embarrassingly dampened panties, causing your back to press against his rigid chest.

There was a vague rattling sound, followed by Bucky placing the large opening of the looped chain over your head and around your neck, “Bucky, what are you doing-” you watch curiously in the mirror. Part of the chain dangles between your breasts, which he wraps around his hand once and slowly starts to pull, causing the loop around your neck to compress.

It’s a choker.

Your eyes go wide, nervousness rippling through you as you grasp his intentions, “Bucky, I don’t know-”

“Do you really think you have a choice?” he barked, pulling the Ghostface mask down back onto his face. Talking to you through the mirror, “I won’t hurt you. Trust me,” he whispers, breaking character for a moment to assure you’re safe.

You nod in response, your reflection visibly eases in the mirror as the necklace slackens around your throat. He lets the chain lax too, for now.

Large hands are back to kneading your thighs, a lone finger brushing between your legs when gravitating along the inside. It’s not long until the sensation has you starting to wriggle once again.

Cupping your sex, his hand gently moves up and down, keeping a firm, yet delicate and delicious pressure. Your greedy hips tilt forward, wanting more from his right hand, while the coolness of his left continues to lazily stroke over your skin. But when that icy touch quickly grabs and tears your underwear off in one jolt, you gasp at the tiny bite the ripping cloth left behind.

Now you’re left wide and exposed- to yourself, to Bucky, to the reflections of yourselves staring intensely, watching every movement. The warmth of his hand is back, leisurely gliding two fingers between your already achingly wet pussy. Swallowing hard, your breath hitches as you can not only feel, but see, yourself start to lose composure.

Bucky pulls the two fingers away, holding them up just to your mouth, "wet them for me," he instructs, his voice silk like satin. Taking the two fingers into your mouth, your tongue swirled rapidly around the digits, savoring the salty-sweetness of your arousal. Slowly pulling them back out, you see them shine with your saliva.

Something comes over you in that moment, call it gluttonous, but you pool some extra moisture into your mouth and spit onto the fingers. Just for good measure.

There's a murmured hum of approval in your ear as he spreads your folds, teasing your increasingly sensitive clit between his two fingers. And getting Bucky's praise will only enhance the entire night. Your legs quiver at the deliberate sluggish pace, letting out shaky breaths as the overwhelming throbbing demands more attention.

Finally, the pads of those fingers start to rub your bundle of nerves in unhurried circles. Gripping onto his thigh to steady yourself, your nails clutching his jeans, a whine escapes as your hips try to buck against his hand.

That dark laugh is in your ear again, "good girls don't come until I tell them too," Bucky breathes, overly indulging in how you respond to his touch. It feels like torture, in the best possible way. The combination of his words and caress... you have never felt this good. This wanted.

Your head falls back slightly against his shoulder in small disappointment, whimpering, knowing that he's going to make you beg. And you're getting desperate enough to do so.

The leisurely pace of his fingers picks up, causing your back to arch away from his chest as you start panting. Each swipe building pleasure, layer on top of agonizing layer. Finding yourself in the mirror again, you unapologetically watch as your body vigorously writhes against his hand, your moans spilling from your mouth more and more.

"How badly do you want to come, princess?" The Ghost breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily now, trying to fight off his own desire, evident from the hard protrusion you keep rolling your hips against.

"S-so bad... Please! Please," you pleaded, not caring how desperate it sounds. Adding some additional pressure, your hips stutter. Your breathing practically stops as your moans transform into one long, drawn out strangled whine as you come apart, "O-ooh...oh my god. Oh god!"

Not even fully coming down from the repeated waves, you hear, "God's not here," growled into your ear. In one sudden movement, Bucky stands up with you in his arms before tossing you onto the bed, "just me.” the low rumble emits from his chest. Ripping off the mask, he kneels on the bed and uses his left arm to support his weight. Using those same damned two fingers, he plunges them into your drenched pussy, siphoning a sound from your throat that’s unrecognizable.

“Again,” Bucky breathes, his eyes glazed over with a new kind of wickedness as they lock into yours, “Come for me again. I fucking love all the sounds you make,” With his palm face up, his fingers start pumping you from the inside, running over your g-spot in a come here motion.

Since there was no remission from your last orgasm, the tightness in your belly never fully went away. Watching Bucky, seeing him in the tight black t-shirt while his bicep flexes from working you, his slightly furrowed brow and his lips slightly parted in determination, you could feel it building up once again.

Feeling your walls contract around him, he grinned. He changes his hand motions to going in a frantic up and down movement, and if you know, you know. Your rasped whimpers became silent as you forgot how to breathe and your vision blurred. The build up came on so fast and so strong, the only sound in the room was your ever increasing wetness.

Your mouth dropped open into a silent O, not able to think not a single coherent thought, "Thaaat's it..." Bucky coaxed, "I want you to gush all over my fucking hand," and with his words, your body quivers as you completely shatter with a loud cry. "Goood girl. God, what a good fucking girl," he soothes. You winced slightly as he pulled out his fingers, collapsing back more into the bed as you try to rein in remembering how to breathe. Bucky sits back on his knees, and almost entirely up to his elbow is glistening with how hard you just came.

With a flat tongue, he presses it to his palm, and licks all the way up to the tip of his middle finger, "Perfect," Bucky hums in satisfaction to himself. Your throat goes dry at the sight, being the cherry on top of all the mouth breathing you've been doing. Am I fucking dreaming?

Pushing his jeans down to his knees, his thick, flushed cock rebounds out of his boxers. Bucky grabs you by the hips, pulling you down the bed before flipping you over onto all fours. Each of his hands grabs a fistfull of your ass, before slapping one side. You moan at the bite of the smack, feeling delusional from needing him inside you so badly. He rubs the reddened cheek before dropping a teeth grazed kiss on the sensitive skin.

There's a coolness between your legs, and you realize that it's your juices sliding down your thighs. Not needing any preparation, you feel the tip of Bucky's fat cock lining up to slide into your tight little slit. He rubs the head up and down, lubricating just enough to push himself in. As he started to sink into you, it took every bit of will you had not to collapse as you felt his slight struggle to get in.

"Fuck, you're tight," he sighs. But truth be told, he's just that big. As if he had a direct roadmap, he slides in effortlessly right to the hilt, poking the sweetest spot of all making you choke out a sob, "You can take it, can't you angel?" He breathes huskily, amusement draped around the words as he dragged his cock back maliciously slow, letting you feel the ridge of each vein, every delectable centimeter of his length.

You feel your eyes roll closed, enjoying the all consuming sensation. With one quick thrust all at once, Bucky simultaneously yanks on the chain of the forgotten choker forcing your eyes open with a loud cry to find him glaring at you in the mirror, "Look at me when I'm fucking you," he reprimanded, in a subdued yet stern voice.

He started to move in a merciless rhythm, keeping the chain taut in one of the hands that clenched your hips. Each thrust delivered not only a delectable deep nudge against your cervix, but a small slap of his balls to your achingly sensitive clit. The combination of internal and external stimulation has you singing your own personal explicit cry, almost on the verge of tears with the intensity.

It's almost cruel the way that he fucks you, like he's dismantling you piece by piece, mentally, physically, emotionally. Never have you been treated like such a prize possession and a cheap whore at the same time. Your walls flutter around his cock, swallowing him needing moremoremore. You're body's accepted that this pussy is Bucky's. It's meant for him. It was made for him.

In the reflection you can see Bucky wet his lips, his eyes darting between yours and your ass bouncing off of his snapping hips. He continues to murmur soft, filthy praises as he fucks another orgasm from you. The choker tensed as you came, making the edges of your vision blurry- your walls clenching so tightly, causing each stroke to become more intense than the next. After you completely shattered, the chain went slack once again.

Manhandling you one last time, Bucky lays back flat on the bed and positions you to straddle him. You shake your head in an almost delirious state, "I-I can't. Buck, I-" you whisper, thoroughly cock drunk, "I can't," you pleaded.

"Yes you can, angel," his hands glide over your sweat coated thighs, a lecherous expression on his face. You nod ever so slightly, because even as spent and exhausted as you feel, you want to see him come apart. You want to look down into his eyes as joins you in the fucked out bliss.

You grab the base of his cock, using it to align yourself before sliding back down on top of him. Bucky's eyes widen, watching intensely as your bodies joined one another. All the air releases out of his lungs at the sight of your greedy pussy sucking him all the way in- deeper, your thighs already trembling. His hands clench your hips as your they start to grind back and forth.

His ab muscles flex under your nail piercing grasp- that pressure once again starting to build. He's just so deep, you're still just so wet from coming 3 times in a row, and now his wide tip is nestled so perfectly against your cervix that each motion of your body feels like you're going to spontaneously combust and die. But there's no way that heaven could be better than this. Those painfully beautiful sapphire blue eyes filled with an rapacious hunger that only you can fulfill.

You're mouth opens in attempt to say his name like a prayer, or something as equally dirty, but all that comes out is a sputter of shuddered gasps. Bucky's unapologetically loud moans grow more frequent, turning into their own long, drawn out beautiful melody, "fuck," he whispers, "that's so good."

Leaning down, chest to chest, you capture his lips in yours- swallowing those gorgeous sounds. Bucky takes this opportunity to thrust his hips up, massaging your inner walls as you push back against him. The loud smacking of flesh borderline drown out the sounds of both your orgasms, but you could feel the vibration from deep within Bucky's throat through the kiss. Rope after rope, you could feel his warmth emptying inside of you.

The strokes became laguid as he maintained the kiss- Bucky's hands cupping your face gently, which was such a dichotomy compared to the way he fucked you tonight. You finally pull your lips apart, collapsing fully on top of his body. Laying in silence, all you can hear is each other's ragged breathing and the drumming of his heart in your ear against his chest.

"I am... never getting rid of that fucking mask," Bucky chuckles lightly.

"Just so you know," you prop your chin up on your palm, "there's 5 other movies in the franchise."

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fos-tis-zois · 19 hours

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°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

you were still in the early stages of dating nanami kento, but it was enough to know that the serious and stoic sorcerer had managed to steal your heart. Discovering a side to him which came out only in front of you did things to your heart you didn't know was possible. He had made you smile and blush uncontrollably, much to your embarrassment, from the first date itself. He was so gentlemanly that you did not know how to act around this man. But the unforgettable happened on your fourth date. That was the first time you saw him blush, and your heart skipped such a beat that discovering his little love languages became your life goal.

It was a crisp evening, and you had arranged to meet Nanami at a quaint café he frequented. He was waiting for you at the entrance, dressed impeccably in one of his many sexy suits. But today, his tie was slightly askew. As you approached him, you couldn’t help but notice the minor imperfection in this usual perfectly made man and it made your heart smile.

“Hi, Kento,” you greeted him with a warm smile, standing on your tiptoes to reach his tie. “Let me fix this for you.”

Your fingers gently adjusted the tie, and as you stepped back, you were greeted with the most endearing sight. Nanami’s cheeks were a deep hue of red, and his usually composed eyes were struggling to meet yours. You could hardly believe that such a small gesture could elicit such a reaction from him.

Ever since that evening, it became your mission to uncover more ways to make your perfect man blush. You discovered that surprise homemade lunches were one of those ways. One of your biggest love languages was cooking for people you love. Since Nanami always had little gifts sent to you, you thought of taking a cute bento with a freshly baked mini baguette sandwich filled with tender roast beef, crisp lettuce, and a touch of mustard. It was introduced to you by him because of your shared love of good bread and you thoughtfully wanted him to have a version of yours.

“The life I have doesn’t grant me much care” he said with a faint blush on his face, with a mixture of love for you but the pain his life has given him that it made your heart cry for him. Kento appreciated quality, and when you packed him a meticulously prepared lunch with all his favorite foods, his appreciative, shy smile made your heart flutter. You were determined to make him feel loved, for all he does for everyone.

Nanami is used to being the protector, so you insisted on taking care of him, even in small ways. He would laugh lightly with a rosy blush and hug you from behind as you insist adamantly in front of your big man that you will handle dinner and all he needs to do is have some wine and tell you about his day.

“You’re too good to me”, he would say in your ear, kissing your earlobes. “You deserve this and so much more, my love” you kiss his cheeks as his head sinks deeper in the crook of your neck..

Planning spontaneous dates showed you another side of him. A visit to a cozy bookstore, or a surprise trip to a quaint café during his lunch break would bring out a softer, more relaxed Nanami, whose rare, genuine smiles made your heart skip a beat. He would show you the books he likes a lot, telling you how he’s been looking for their first editions, while you take mental notes to gift him those books later. Taking him out for his lunch breaks also sometimes showed you how stressful his job was, as he vented about his annoying co-worker and the insane morals of the higher ups in his profession.

“I have never had such ease talking about my life to someone, y/n. Thank you for being here for me." Kento's gratitude often showed in the form of a rosy blush. You longed to tell him what you would do to bring this smile and contentment on this man’s face.

Leaving heartfelt notes for him became a habit. You’d slip them into his briefcase or jacket pocket, knowing that he’d find them during his busy day. His texts thanking you were always sweet and sometimes accompanied by a shy confession of how much he loved your notes.

But the easiest way to make him blush was simply by being genuinely happy. Your laughter and joy, especially when caused by something he did or said, never failed to bring a blush to his cheeks and a soft, pleased smile to his lips.

Every little discovery about what made Kento blush was a victory for you. It wasn’t just about the cute reactions; it was about understanding the layers of this complex, wonderful man who had become such an important part of your life. And with each blush, you fell more in love with him, knowing that beneath his stoic exterior was a heart that beat just for you.

hopefully first of manyy nanami fluffs. please reblog if u liked it! suggestions and comments are always always welcome! 💖💖💖

nanami art by artist @/xiaoshy_otp on twitter banner by @anitalenia

#jjk x reader #zois writes #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jjk anime #jjk art #jujutsu kaisen #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento x y/n #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami crack #domestic nanami

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boliv-jenta · 2 days

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Dark!Joel Miller x Innocent f!reader

Warnings: Age gap, reader is 20, Joel is in his 60's. Daddy kink. Dub-con.

Summary: Joel helps you understand some things that you've never read before.

Daddy's Princess

Joel may be strict with his rules, but living with him has given you more freedom than you've even had. You can go outside in the land surrounding your small cabin. Before, you only had a small area between the houses of your little town that you were allowed to walk in. There were no trees, no crunch of leaves under your feet. Not like when you get to walk with Joel. You get to read whatever books Joel can bring you. Before, you were only allowed to read books that weren't banned. You came to Joel at nineteen years old and hadn't seen a curse in print before. Those old rules seem so suffocating now, so you don't mind following Joel's, and after all, they are there to keep you safe.

When Joel isn't there, you stay inside. When people come calling you hide, when the two of you go out, you stay close. Not many infectioned make it this far. People sure still do, and by the time they get here, they are desperate.

Joel had been gone for two nights. The time alone didn't really bother you. The cabin was safe, and it was nice to be alone after growing up with so many other children. No, not other children, you were a woman now. It's still so easy to forget.

The book in your hands was keeping you company. It was a romance novel, only the second one you'd ever read. They couple had been on such an adventure. On surviving it, they finally had some time alone. They began to kiss, something you'd always wondered about. The only kisses you ever felt were from your mother, on your chubby cheeks when you were small, but she passed so long ago that the memory has faded. Reading on the man ‘rubs his lover's wet heat, preparing her to take the hard evidence of his arousal.’ The words play over in your head as you try to understand them. A familiar tingle starts between your legs. It’s the same one that comes when you watch Joel chop wood. Or when he puts his hands on you to guide you while out walking.

The door to the cabin swings open below your loft.

“I'm back, Princess.” Joel always refers to you by your nickname, or some other sweet term of endearment.

In turn he loves to be called Daddy. He tells you it's because he will always care for you unconditionally.

“Hi, Daddy.” You try to sound normal as your heart races.

Climbing down from your bedroom you try to seem less flustered than you feel.

Joel notices immediately. Of course he does, you don't survive into your sixties by being dumb in this world.

“Sweetheart, are you feeling alright?” He shrugs off his backpack and layers before coming closer to take a look at you.

One of the rules is that you don't lie to Daddy. “I was reading something confusing.”

“Well, why do we read it together and try to straighten out that pretty little head?” Joel's hand on your lower back doesn't help the feeling between your legs as he ushers you to the small sofa in what serves as a living room.

As you try to sit comfortably, Joel retrieves a pair of reading glasses from the side table, sitting back he takes the book from you. He notices the pages are damp with sweat. “What kind of book is this?”

“It's a ro-romance.” You gulp.

“I see.” His voice gives nothing away. “What part is confusing?”

Your shaking hand points to the passage and Joel begins to read. “After a period of kissing that seemed timeless as their tongues explored each other's warm mouths, Drake began rubbing his lover's wet heat, preparing her to take the hard evidence of his arousal.” Joel closes the book and places it on the table along with his glasses. “I see. Well, what part is confusing, Darlin’?”

“All of it. The words, the way they make me feel.” You confess.

“How do they make you feel?” Joel leans against the back of the sofa, waiting patiently for your answer.

“There's a tingle between my legs and in my…” you know you need to be honest so you swallow thickly and press on “...my breasts. I get it when I'm with you sometimes, too.”

“Okay.” Joel is completely calm and unphased by your words. “Would you like me to explain it all to you?”

“Yes, please.” You sigh with relief.

“I need you to lift up your skirt and show me where the tingle is.” Joel shifts forward in his seat and begins to roll his sleeves up.

Even though you trust Joel with all your heart a shyness comes over you. Joel sees your hesitation. “It's okay, Princess. Daddy would never hurt you. This is all perfectly normal and natural.”

Nodding your head you shuffle down on the sofa and bring your feet up. Your skirt falls back off your knees allowing you to show Joel where the tingle is.

“Now, I need you to point for me.” Joel is now down on the floor to get a better view you assume.

You do as you are asked. “Good girl. Now press your finger to where the tingle is.” Again you obey.

As your finger touches the fabric of your panties you find it damp and warm. “Wet heat.” You breathe as the tingle grows stronger.

“That's right, my smart girl. Now rub your finger around until you find a spot that feels real good. Your finger will have to go between your folds a little but that's fine. The spot should be like a little hard bump.”

At first you are concentrating on Joel's words too hard to feel the change in the tingle until “Oh my!”

Joel was right about it feeling good.

“That's it, now try rubbing little circles around that spot.”

Following Joel's instructions your legs begin to shake as the feeling grows more intense until you have to stop.

“Are you alright?” One of Joel's hands rubs your calf as he speaks and a new sensation like a twitch develops in your wet heat.

“Yes. It was just..a lot.” You try to breathe normally.

Joel chucks. “That's alright. You were getting to the best part. Anyway, do you understand what your wet heat is now?” You nod “The clinical term is a vagina but it has lots of names. Some sweet, like flower. Some vulgar, like pussy or cunt.

“What do you call it?” You peer down at him curiously.

When he stands you're worried that you have offended him. “Well that depends on the ‘evidence of my arousal’.” His hand comes to cup his groin and you notice that the large bulge there is even larger. “Do you know what this is called?”

You shake your head earnestly. You knew that men and women's bodies were different but you didn't know what men had down there. Only that it was bigger. “This is my penis but I call it my cock. It's gotten bigger because I've been tingling too. We call that tingle arousal. It means when your body wants to have sex or needs to orgasm. An orgasm is what was going to happen to you when it started to feel really, really good.”

You sat quietly for a moment trying to process. “So when I get the tingle when you touch me. That means I want to have sex with you? But I'm not ready to be a mother.”

“Oh, Princess. Sex isn't just for makin’ babies. It's for makin’ people feel real good. Just like you were doin’. Now why don't you slip off your panties and carry on. I promise it will be worth it.” So you do as Joel says. He drops to his knees in front of you again. “Oh, you have the prettiest little pussy I've ever seen. She's so wet. Come on now make her drip for me. Keep rubbin’.”

Wanting to make Joel happy, you do. You keep rubbing little circles until your fingers are soaked, your legs tremble, your eyes flicker open and closed and your body feels pleasure it has never known until…”I can't, Daddy. It feels like there is something coming but it won't.”

“Shhh. Alright. Do you want Daddy’s help?” Joel coos.

“Yes, please.” you take his hand with your free one.

“Just remembered, Daddy always knows best. I always keep you safe as long as you do as you are told.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

Coming closer, Joel dips his head towards your pussy and you feel something warm and wet hit it. “It's always good to get as wet as possible.” He comments before the pads of two thick fingers press to that spot and begin to rub up and down.

The pleasure is near blinding. “Daddy. I can't. I…please…please stop.”

“It's for your own good. Just breathe.”

Your whole body tense as you claw at Joel's wrist.

“No. Please. Stop. STOP!” you cry as the strange sensation builds.

“Shhh. Shhh. Daddy's got you. Just relax. Come on. Come for me. Come for Daddy.” you have no idea what Joel is asking for until it explodes through you.

The tension gives to waves of pleasure. The tingle convulses inside you. The wetness drips down the crack of your ass. You head swims with a euphoria that you have never known. Your pinned in place by the feeling. You mouth open wide in a silent scream.

“That's it, Princess. Oh, look you're all ready for Daddy.” The convulsions of your pussy are restricted as something enters you. “Oh, fuck.” Joel gritted out.

The unknown pressure begins to feel uncomfortable, painful even.

“Joel?” you wince.

“It's alright, Princess. Daddy just has to take his turn. You got to come, now I have to. You don't want me being it pain do you? That's what happens when a man’s cock gets hard and he can't relieve it. Nearly did myself an injury or two tryin’ not to touch myself when you first got here. Especially that first night with your little dress all wet…” The pain increases as Joel pushes what must be his cock further in. “Oh, fuck, Baby.” Joel's groans of pleasure make you bite your lip. You don't want to spoil it for him. “Your little dress all wet and those perky nipples begging to be sucked. I fucked my fist outside the next day. Ugh.” he grunted as he finally stopped pushing forward. The intrusion was painful but there was a tinge of pleasure in there too.

“Daddy? Will this make me come again?”

“Oh, Princess. If you let me fuck this tight cunt, I will make you come so fucking hard.” Joel never cussed around you. The sound of it eased the pain in your cunt.

As soon as you nod, Joel's hands grip your hips and he begins to pull you toward him as his hips surge forward. He repeated the motion over and over a few times. You want to be good for him but he's so big.

“Daddy. I'm sorry. I can't take it. Too big.” Tears flow and your voice cracks.

“You can. You're going to lie back and take it until Daddy blows his load.”

“No. I can't.” you begin to push at his chest. Joel simply pins your hands above your head with one of his.

“You can, Princess. I promise.” his lips find your and his tongue pushes yours apart. Another wave of wetness eases the fullness you feel but it's still too much when Joel starts to piston his hips into you.

“Daddy. No. Stop. Please.” shakey pleas tumble from your lips.

They only seem to spur Joel on. “Is Daddy's cock too big for his Princess’s virgin cunt? You're wet as anything yet I'm still too much for you. Look at you, begging for me to stop. Tell me you want me to stop.”

“I do, Daddy. You're so big. I can't…” you are crying despite the pleasure building. It's all too much.

“Say it. Say ‘stop’. Beg me.” Joel's hips only increase in speed only stopping when he rams up against something inside you that takes your breath away.

“Stop, Daddy. Please.” you managed to get out.

“Oh, shit. Fuck. Daddy doesn't have to. He could fill this cunt if he wanted. I'm right there. Right up against your cervix. I could breed you. I could keep you here, barefoot, pregnant and just keep milking my cock with this cunt whenever I wanted. You couldn't do a damn thing to stop me. Come on, Princess, Daddy's close. Come for me.”

With all of Joel's talking you hadn't realised how much the pain had shifted to pleasure. This time when Joel strokes you the screams aren't silent. “Oh, God! Oh, Joel! Joel!”

“That's it. Perfect little cunt sucking me in and working me close. You dirty little whore. Fuck!”

Before you can come down from your high, Joel was on his feet. One hand was wrapped around his cock. Your eyes were transfixed. You weren't sure what you expected it to look like but it made you clench. His other hand pulled down your dress to expose your breasts.

“Perfect tits, too. They'd look even better painted.” Joel's hand moves on his huge cock lightening fast until white fluid shot from in and landed on your breasts. His hand is still moving as his drops to his knees to lick the substance off. Even after it's gone he keeps on licking then sucking your nipples. The tingle builds then breaks when Joel pumps two thick fingers in and out of where his cock just was.

“Joel!” you scream as a final burst of pleasure leaves you boneless and breathless.

Joel’s sturdy weight rests against your chest. “Now, Princess, why don't we read more of your book and see if you need anything else explainin’?”

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #joel miller #dark!joel miller #dub con #smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you

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