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#dO PEOPLE GET TURNED ON BY READING SMUT??????
groguspicklejar · 1 day
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Under Your Spell
Chapter 1: Sink Your Teeth
Pairing: Gaz x f!reader x Soap
Warnings: dark fic!!! dubcon/noncon touching, nonconsentual filming, manipulation, smut, oral (fem receiving), p in v, rough sex, mirror sex, male masturbation, one-sided pining.
A/N: idk how but this just spawned right out of me :)
+18 Only!!! No Minors or Ageless Blogs are to read this!!! And if you're not comfortable with the warnings above and the tags, do not read!!!
[Part 2] [Part 3]
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They return at the same time. Your eyes dart around as people pour out from the terminal gate until you spot them. Both still in their green uniforms, both weary and drained from their last mission.
Kyle instantly smiled when he sees you waiting for him and beelines for you. Nothing but relief flooded you when he drops his duffle bag and brings you into his arms and spins you around. Gleeful squeals are all that leave you when he does this and puts you down while kissing the side of your head. “God, you’ve no idea how much I missed you, doll.”
You’re a little breathless as he brings his mouth upon yours for a sweet kiss. “I have a distinct feeling that you’ll remind me when we get home.”
His eyes darken for a second. “Don’t you start.”
Smiling, you shift out of his grasp and turn to his companion. “Hey, Soap.”
“Good tae see ye again, bonnie.” John MacTavish, ever the enthusiast, grins widely at your greeting. You were surprised at how tightly Soap embraced you, but returned the gesture nonetheless. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, groaning into your skin.
He’s touchy, this one. Even more than your husband is. But that’s just Soap, he’s the affectionate one of the group and you’ve grown used to it by now. Soap’s arms tighten when you squirm and giggle, asking him if he’ll let go now.
You roll your eyes. He does this every time.
Although, today might be a little different.
“A few more minutes, bonnie” You flinch when he presses a kiss on your neck, lips then brushing against the curve of your ear as his voice lowers. “I’ve missed ye.”
For all of five seconds, you freeze, unsure of how to respond. Wondering if the ringing in your head was just you overreacting or if he was being as serious as you think he is.
You’re all too aware of the weight of his hands on your back, how he seems far too content with staying just like that. How he seems to want to melt into your bones and never leave.
Clearing your throat, you gently pull away. He’s just friendly. He’s just Soap. You’re reading into things that aren’t there.
“Okay.” you manage to smile again. “Who’s hungry?”
You don’t think they could’ve been any happier at that moment.
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You didn’t think much about that moment after that. You’ve just been too busy appreciating Kyle’s presence back home.
“You’ve been banking on this, haven’t you?” He’s got you bent over the sink, still in his gear. He’s on his knees as you plant your hands against the mirror. “Walking around wearing nothing under this.”
Your floral pink dress had been hiked up to your hips. His mouth sucking hotly on the skin of your thighs, fingers digging into your hips. His teeth nip your ass, earning a faint whimper.
Weeks of pent up agitation. Weeks without Kyle. It's never easy. Watching him leave, hoping he stays alive, praying he comes back to you still alive and in one piece. Hardly a night goes by when you don't think about him.
Hardly a moment goes by without thinking about the way he touches you. With fevor, with reverence. You've bought more batteries for your vibrator in the last few years than the average person does in their entire lifetime.
You’re trying to keep quiet. Trying not to let the throbbing between your thighs overrule your logic as you try to keep your voice lowered. Johnny’s in the guest room and the walls aren’t thick. You can’t bear the thought of him hearing what your husband does to you in the dead of night.
“My pretty little whore.” The trepidation in your bones increases when he buries his face in your pussy. You cover your mouth, eyes fluttering when his tongue cards between your folds, a loud groan following, echoing through the bathroom tiles. “Sitting in a public airport, waiting for me with no panties on. And you say I’m the nasty one, you hypocrite.”
A strained mewl escapes between your fingers. Your forehead lays against the mirror as he spreads your folds and licks your quivering pussy. And he does so slowly, with the patience of a saint.
Fuck, you've missed him.
“I’m not the one eating if from the ba–ah!” Your retort crest into a high pitch, your skin prickling with goosebumps. Too fast, too soon. Too loud. He suckles on your clit and rolls it between his tongue, hands gripping your ass to keep you still when you squirm too much.
The edge of a cliff is eerily too close and he's determined to nudge you just over it. Sparks crackle and light a fire down your spine. You want to reach for his hair but you can't leg go of the sink or risk removing the only barrier that keeps you from being too loud.
There's not much that can be done about the lewd wet noises that come from Gaz devouring you, but you muffle your own noises with the back of your wrist whilst still trying to beg him for more. “Kyle– please–”
You try to whisper, but it comes out in a hiccup. A weak moan, a plea for more, for mercy. For anything. Much to your devastation, he stops and grins at you with glistening hips and chin.
“Why are you getting all shy on me, love? You wanted this.” He stands up and you want to beg him to kneel again, but your eyes trail to his hands as you look behind. He's undoing his belt and rucks his pants down enough for his to reveal his cock.
You're trying not to be too distracted by how thick and veiny it is, how fucking good he's going to stretch you out. Instead, you meet his heated gaze. “I’m trying not to let our guest know what we’re up to.”
Kyle gently orders you to place your knee on the sink because he wants a clear view of your pussy. His arm wraps around you. You're set ablaze at the blunt tip sliding through your folds, a choked whimper muffled by how hard you bit your lip.
“Who cares if he hears us?” He keeps your stare through the mirror, angling his hips, drawing for the kill. Your skin prickles hotly when his cock pushes inside. He pulls out, only for a brief second, a miniscule moment of anticipation. “All that matters–”
His hips snap. A surprised scream tears out of your throat. He slides right home, filling you in ways you've missed, ways you could only find in dreams.
“–is our happy reunion.” he groans out, slowly pulling out and drawing inside again.
Your head lays against his shoulder. His cock is throbbing as he slowly pulls out and for a moment, you think he's going to take his time. He almost always does. But no—
A loud moan echoes through the bathroom when he snaps his hips again, sinking his cock deep inside your cunt. He presses you against the ceramic basin, face buried in your neck with his deep groan melting into your bones.
His hands pawed at the bodice of your dress until he's had enough of the fabric getting in the way. Suddenly, you gasp at the buttons that popped and spilled all over as he tore it open, granting him access to your breasts.
There was no time to reprimand him for that as he already started gliding his shaft in and out, muttering a strained curse into your ear. Pleasure coursed through your veins like rivers of molten lava, burning every sense of logic.
He made you look at him through the mirror and his hand reached between your legs. “Now be a good girl and let me hear you.”
“Gaz–” you choked, trying to keep your voice down. Your hand automatically goes to cover your mouth when your squeal pierces through the air, his thrusts becoming harder, more precise. You're spiralling further and further away from your grip on sanity with each drag of his length.
The power he had over you was frightening. But you couldn't find a drop of fear in your blood. He was so good at numbing every rational thought in your head with the way he easily bends your body to his will.
He fills you up so good, it's impossible to resist the flood that builds inside. Your pussy is fluttering and creaming around him already as he's fucks you in earnest, his rough palms groping your breasts under the torn material of your dress. Your skin already burns hot from the wet salacious noises and your own helpless mewls are muffled behind your hand.
“No hands on your mouth.” he commands, dragging your hand away, heated eyes seeing into you through his reflection. “Or I won’t let you cum.”
It's harsh. Almost bordering on cruel. But you've never known Kyle to go back on his promises. If he says he will or won't do something, it's more than likely that he means it and he'll stand on his word.
“Let him hear you. Let him hear how sweet you’re being for me.” It's pure sin whispered into your ear through harsh grunts and nips of his teeth. His fingers slip through your folds, dragging through the wetness and bringing it to circle around your throbbing clit. You can't help the moans that bleed out of your throat. “That’s it, love. That’s it. Be as loud as you need.”
His hips grind into you almost to the point where it's painful. There's going to be bruises on your hips from the way he's kept you pinned against the sink. Your hooded gaze is drawn to the mirror, watching the way your husband's cock glistens between hurried thrusts.
You're already at the brink of your limit with Kyle muttering endless filth about how he wouldn't mind showing Soap how good this pussy gets fucked every night upon his return, how Soap would be made to beg for a taste of you.
“He's a fucking dog, that one. He'd slobber all over your cunt if he even thinks he's got a chance.” Kyle says while rubbing your clit harder, his gaze focused on your drunken expression. “Would you give it to him, love? Would you let him eat your pussy?”
Your eyes roll back at the thought. Your mouth hung open as a long mewl escapes your lungs when you tighten around his cock. He fucks you harder when you cum. And keeps the pace up until it stutters and he floods your pussy with his spend.
You don't know what to make of Kyle's words. Except to chalk them as just that. Words. Just words. He can't actually want his best friend to fuck you, that's ridiculous.
If Soap heard what was going on in the other room, he didn’t breathe a word about it the next day. He was as chipper as a man can be, in fact. He's whistling as he walks into the kitchen as you're boiling water for Kyle's tea and your coffee.
“Mornin’, bonnie.” His grin is the widest it has ever been. You flinch when his hand brushes the small of your back when he walks past you. The touch is brief, but you can feel the heat radiating from his palm, seeping into your skin through your crisp shirt.
He's a fucking dog, that one.
Would you let him eat your pussy?
Your resolve falters. The unholy thoughts filter into your mind a million times at a second. Soap spreading your legs open with that mischievous glint in his eyes before he starts to lick the viscous fluid from your cunt. Your own body betrays you, a pulse slowly coming to life between your thighs.
Would you give it to him, love?
You pour a mug for Johnny. He preferred coffee. “How’d you sleep?”
“Good.” He pecks your cheek when you hand him the ceramic cup. “Feels good tae sleep on a bed tha’ doesn’t feel like a rock.”
You wished with all your might to not let it affect you. His proximity had never been a problem before. Now it grates at your existence. Whatever Kyle said to you the night before has taken root and has dug its way through some dark part of you that you haven't quite let into the light.
You need to rip it out. From the root and never let it grow back. You can't let it ruin your marriage. You can't let it get between a perfectly good friendship.
Kyle chuckled as he entered the kitchen. “Amen to that.”
It felt nice to have the boys back home. But alas, you had places to be and things to do and you wanted some semblance of space away from your husband's best friend so you can think clearly.
Both of them sat down across from each other at the table in the middle of the kitchen, drinking the tea/coffee you made for them. You had already gotten dressed for the day and went to grab your bag from the sofa while sipping your coffee. Johnny's voice follows you when you slink it over your shoulder, the weight of your laptop straining your bones. “Where are ye going, love?”
“Work.” You take one big gulp of your coffee before heading over to the sink. “Got an early meeting.”
You try as best as you can not to catch Soap's eyes as you finish the rest of your early morning hot beverage.
“Damn, really?” Kyle frowns. “Can’t you take a day off?”
“Unfortunately not, hon.” Your nearly empty cup goes in the sink and you head over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Some of us don’t get to have extended paid leave for saving the world because well… we don’t save the world.”
He puts his mug down on the table. “Let me drive you to work then.”
“No, it’s okay.” you pecked his lips and patted his shoulder. “You can stay in and get some sleep. Lord knows you need it.”
The last bit was whispered with a cheeky smile though you're sure Soap heard before you whirled away from him, letting his exasperated groan follow you to the door. “Dollface…”
“I’m right here, ye ken.” Johnny grumbles, rolling his eyes in annoyance.
“Apologies, Johnny.” you giggled just as Kyle stood up.
“Come on, I’m dropping you off. And I’ll be picking you up later too.”
It's very unlikely that he'll be taking no for an answer, so you graciously accept.
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“Look at the mirror, dollface. So pretty for me, darlin. All for me.”
Smut bastard, Johnny grits his teeth, jerking the hand around his leaking cock faster. The light from his phone illuminated his face in the dark room.
The flowers printed on your dress had been ruffled and torn wide open, revealing your breasts for display, showing the way they jiggled with each hard push of Kyle's hips. The man's hand played with one tit while the other splayed on your stomach with your dress bunched up, revealing the prize between your legs.
The hidden camera worked like a charm. Connected to Soap's phone to alert him when the motion detector had been set off and let him see and record everything. He's been playing the video back on repeat ever since you left for work.
It was Kyle's idea, a way to just rub it in Johnny's face on what he's missing out on. You.
Gaz, despite being open to the idea of letting another man fuck you, has been greedy about you since the very beginning. He doesn't brag about you to the squad. Always kept it hush-hush when it comes to you, even to Price.
That was until Gaz noticed the little crush obsession Soap had. Though it was kind of obvious with the way he kept asking about you. How you were, what you were probably doing at particular times of the day. Basic things. Innocent things. Harmless enough to keep Soap from spiralling while he's on deployment, harmless enough to make him look forward to come to visit you.
“You worry about Soap hearing you, but what if he saw us like this, hm?” Kyle's gravel tone crackles through the phone. Soap fixes his eyes on the way his cock batters your sweet pussy, your whimper making his blood sing. “Naughty girl— You liked that, don't you?”
Johnny feels his shaft throb with want, with a vicious need dig his fingers into your skin through the bloody screen. Just an ounce of shame bleeding into his veins as he fists his cock, desperate for that release. Pining over his best friend's wife. Drooling over you like the fucking dog that he is.
It doesn't help that said best friend is helping him indulge this disgustingly insatiable need.
Your sweet voice crescendos into a cry of your husband's name when you cum. Soap watches the way your face scrunched in pleasure, your frame twitching in Kyle's arms. It is too much, triggering Soap's orgasm altogether.
It's a hot, blistering implosion. A savage curse taking root deep in his heart and wrapping around his veils, his bones. A hiss tears through the air, hips stuttering as he forces his cock through his lubed hand for a few more strokes while hot cum bursts from it.
He's shaking as the high slowly descends him back down to earth. Panting deeply as he lays heavily on the bed, heat and sweat clinging to his skin. All he can think of is you, you, you.
There was no erasing you from his mind. No after what he's seen. Not after Gaz made him pear through his most private moments with you, showing just how good you are to him.
Johnny groans as he finally lets go of his cock, swallowing thickly as he looks at the cum sticking to his palm.
“Hells fucking bells...”
Gaz is never going to let him live this down.
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[part 2; Split My Skin] Under Your Spell Masterlist posting this and going straight to sleep. bye✌🏽
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3lli3l0v3r · 2 days
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10:15 Saturday Night
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READ THIS FIRST! 🇵🇸
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☆: this one-shot is based on this little imagine/idea thing y'all really liked! ellie coming into your bedroom after throwing rocks at your window, that famed rom-com trope. i love making titles from songs so here’s this one. linking it because i despise the way the audio embed thing looks, that shit’s so ugly- have nothing else to say except this was meant to be only fluffy, but i got a little carried away at the end (and sub!ellie turns me into a rabid raccoon so) 😇 smut is embarrassing af to write i better get over that lmao but anyway, hope you enjoy!
♧: 5k word count
◇: SMUT!! porn w/ plot, but it's sweet. lotsa fluff too, modern au, established relationship, reader feels gloomy in the beginning, mentions of unspecified argument, dorky ellie saves the day, mentions of being irritated at family, mututal teasing back n forth, ellie’s lowk annoying LMAO. kinda mean reader (but in a hot way), lazy/rushed intro bc i’m impatient. cuddling → starts out as top!ellie but oops! a dash of nipple play, a little fighting for dominance ending in sub!ellie & dom!reader, fingering (e! and r! receiving), oral (e! receiving), risky sex. she's a whimperer folks- lawd i needa ruin her….this is very self indulgent, in case you couldn’t tell. lmk if i forgot anything!)
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Waiting for the telephone to ring, and I’m wondering where she's been. And I'm crying for yesterday, and the tap drips. Drip, drip, drip, drip….
Robert Smith’s vocals rang through the room as you spun around in your chair, round and round and round until you got dizzy, your brain being jostled around in your skull as if you were on a rollercoaster. Gaming chairs, powerful things they were. You were lost in thought, pondering the state of the world and your life, because you had nothing better to do other than wallow in your miseries. 
Everything was going downhill, or that’s certainly what it felt like currently. You hated every single one of your responsibilities and life was generally not being kind to you. But most of all, you hated disagreeing with your girlfriend. Ellie could get a little feisty when things didn't go exactly her way, and you loved that fighter quality about her, but maybe not when it was used in your disagreements with her. This particular day her spunky attitude was getting on your nerves, and both of you had gotten a little irritated with each other.
You knew that neither one of you meant anything you said in the heat of the moment, you just had occasional squabbles like everyone else. However this time, today’s words hit you a little harder. Not to mention it was spring break and so for the time being you’d gone back home to spend time with your family. Ellie had done the same. You were very grateful the two of you grew up close to each other, only started your relationship years after initially meeting. You enjoyed reminiscing about the budding moments, adored looking back on the good ole days. 
The source of today’s irritation could have been a myriad of things. Maybe you’d had another little fight with your family members, had a lot of assignments due after the break was over, and the weather was generally horribly ugly. Gray, cloudy skies, pouring rain, wind and chilly temperatures, everything was just going swimmingly. When all of that added up it was only natural for people to be a little on edge, and briefly forget the good moments life had to offer, wasn't it?
Picking up your phone, you stared at the sent message to Ellie, just a plain text asking what she’s up to. Even in moments of disagreements where you needed space to get yourself back on track, you would send her little messages as a way to show her, and reassure yourself, that it was only temporary and the two of you would talk it out amazingly and come out even stronger on the other side.
But now you’ve been left on delivered for hours, was she really that busy? Knowing her, it was likely. Her and Joel were probably out fishing or hiking or doing some other fun outdoorsy activity, while you were just left to rot within the confines of your childhood bedroom. Had she not ticked you off earlier you would have asked to come with. Waiting on an answer from her of any kind would only serve to frustrate you even more, so you put your phone away and collapsed into your warm, inviting bed, despite it being way too early to go to sleep. But you didn’t feel like doing much of anything else, so a little shut-eye wouldn’t hurt. 
Within moments you were out like a light. Blissfully relaxing in dreamland, where you were frolicking amongst colorful flower fields and riding on the back of a unicorn into the sunset, dancing with fairies and twirling to your heart's content. Your family dog’s deafening barking was drowned out by you playing the harp with elves and floating endlessly into an abyss of turquoise waters. You were so deep in this wonderful dream, it was healing you in all the right ways you needed right now. Restoring every ounce of energy you lost, fighting against your inner saboteurs so efficiently. You’d simply stay there forever if you could. Until-
Plink, plink, plink. A small, repetitive sound persisted through your slumber, eventually waking you up. Startling awake and switching on your lamp, you stepped out of bed with a groan, stumbling over your steps and rubbing your eyes to get to the window to see what in the world could possibly be happening.
It was raining heavily, and seemed to be hours after you had initially fallen asleep. You squinted through the raindrops coating the pane of glass and down into your yard as an attempt to scout out the noise. Looking down through the blur, you were met with your loving, apologetic girlfriend, her form scurrying around your yard in the dark of night, scavenging your yard for something. Were those pebbles she was throwing at your window? How cliche.
It appeared as if she had found some, standing upright and rearing her arm back in preparation to fling it at the glass, until she saw you and waved. You didn't open the window just yet, and signaled to tell her to scram. What was she doing here at this hour, in this weather? You flapped your arms frantically in every direction, out towards every axis, resulting only in her pouting and shaking her head. You weren't going to get rid of her that easily.
Twisting and turning the knob to open the window with a creak, you lean outside in the drizzle and stage whisper down at her. “Ellie? It's like, I don't even know the time, but it's late. What the fuck are you doing?” The phrases thrown at each other during your earlier squabble flickered through your mind again, but you pushed them aside because the sight of your love always made your heart melt. And she was clearly up to something, so you were going to see it through to the end.
She shouts up at you, “Hey, I wanna say I'm sorry for earlier. I wanna make it up to you so-” She cuts herself off by bending into a kneel, setting down her bag on the wet grass and rummaging through it, pulling out her navy blue ukulele and clearing her throat. You feel yourself blush from the actions, might be from second hand embarrassment, might be because you're touched by the gesture. She begins.
“So, uh, I tried getting my guitar but it was too big to carry all the way here and I don't want it to get wet so, this'll do.” She strums it, gently swaying from side to side, and sings a scuffed rendition of A-ha's Take on Me, her voice shaking slightly and the cheap instrument being significantly out of tune. The rain and distant thunder was drowning her out, but watching patiently was more than fine. You stay at your window, listening to her serenade until the last few lyrics.
Not even realizing it, but once she finishes the performance, your heart is warmed and you're beaming at her. You truly loved her so much, and as much as you wished to, couldn't stay mad at her for any longer. And regardless, standing out in the rain getting soaked to the bone like that was her punishment, in a sense. The moonlight is dancing on her face in a way that makes her eyes twinkle as if they were plucked straight from the cosmos, and she's grinning widely at you. Enchanting as ever.
“Did it work? I love you!” She blows you a kiss, wipes her slicked down hair from her face and shudders violently. “It's really cold down here, can I come up? Please lemme in.” The slight nasally tone in her voice could make you do anything for her, damn, this girl didnt even know how much of a hold she had on you sometimes.
“Fine. Just one sec.” You closed the window on her to take a quick, silent stroll through the halls of your house to make sure every one of your family members was situated in their respective rooms, and unlikely to be disturbed by any ruckus. By the time you made your way back to your own room, Ellie had already perched herself in the big oak tree next to your house. She was crouched at the top of it, gripping onto a branch and peering inside your room, calmly waiting for you to return and so you could give her the “okay” to come in.
She startled you momentarily, looking like a bit of a creep staring into your house like that, but you laughed it off and opened the window fully for her. “Okay, here goes.” Ellie mumbles under her breath and inches forward closer to the edge of your roof. It wasn't a big gap, but there was a sure possibility of injury and it was a risk you didn't want her to take, but Ellie being Ellie, she was going to be reckless and do it anyway.
What if her foot slipped on the wet shingles and she went splat on the ground? Or broke every bone in her body with a crunch…? That wouldn't be pretty. Your stomach flipped with nerves and you grimaced, turning away. “Please don't die.” She didn't respond and instead only focused on completing the jump to your roof with a “hmf”. One step was done, you breathed a sigh of relief and opened one eye.
She was slowly making her way there with both arms outstretched, and as she had almost completed the journey, she tripped. You screeched quietly and turned away again, that was definitely helpful, but bracing yourself for the worst inevitably proved unnecessary when you heard her familiar raspy giggle. She caught herself just in time and was at the windowsill now, appearing winded from the effort and adrenaline.
“Heh, told you I'd be fine.” “Ellie don't scare me like that, just hurry up.” You helped her crawl inside your candle lit room by the arm, and once she was inside only then did you notice how drenched she was from the rain. Just sopping wet, dripping water all over your, thankfully, hardwood floors. The severity of the conditions outside only became even more apparent to you now, poor girl was about to turn into an icicle. It would be mean of you to leave her like this and let her catch a cold, she hasn’t wronged you quite that much. But a part of you was feeling a little playful, a little mischievous perhaps.
“Don't move, I'll find you something warm.” Before you can disappear inside your closet to find her some dry clothes she attacks you in a clumsy embrace, resulting in you being soaked now too. You try to pry her away and feel goosebumps come on as her cold lips connect with your neck, moist smacks as she smooches you all over.
“Let go, Els, c'mon you're gonna get me all wet too.” You lament to her, then regret your choice of words instantly as she pulls away to look at you, wiggle her eyebrows and smirk, to which she comments. “Damn right I am, that's m'goal.”
Whenever she pulls dirty jokes on you your immediate instinct is to burst into laughter, but you clap your hand over your mouth and hiss back at her. “Shhhh we gotta be really quiet, everyone's asleep. I don't feel like getting a talking-to at breakfast in the morning, y'know because ‘their house, their rules’.” You whisper the explanation to her as you roll your eyes and mock your family's words, adding air quotes as well. 
Ellie gives you double thumbs up in response, solemnly swearing to not produce a peep. After rummaging through your drawers, you find a warm pajama set which matches yours and make her put it on while you sneak around to grab her a towel to dry off with too. 
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Moments later the two of you are cuddled up in your bed together, entangled in each other's arms, enjoying the quiet company. Just listening to the other’s steady intakes and exhales of oxygen, warm hands caressing over clothes stroking each other's hair, wanting to absorb into the other and assimilate into one being. What a shame that wasn't possible, you thought. 
There wasn't too much of a need to discuss the disagreement in depth, because of the mutual understanding it wasn't anything serious, and ultimately the product of annoying circumstances, which was definitely a huge relief. Shit happens, and you were as glad ever to be entangled in her arms again, although it was worth mentioning in short anyway. You break the silence by whispering into her ear.
“You didn't have to come here Els.” You hear her let out a throaty chuckle, then squeeze your waist tighter. “I felt bad, I know you've been kinda under the weather recently. And wanna say sorry for being annoying earlier.” She murmured into the side of your neck, sending tingles on a path spreading throughout your whole body.
While the the two of you were cuddling in your room keeping conversation faint as can be, she had absent-mindedly began to roam her hands around your body, from the sides of your ribcage, to clutching your waist, to settling on your hips to play with the waistband of your fleece pajama pants. She was placing feather-light kisses on your neck simultaneously, and you found it hard to believe she didn't know what she was doing, but it was definitely working on you, and you frankly found it funny. She really did have a habit of being handsy. Your logical side was screaming how bad of an idea this was, but your horny side…
It was like the angel and devil sitting atop your shoulders, debating the pros and cons. You wondered who was going to win.
Teasingly whispering back to her, “Els, what do you think you’re doing?” Even through her hushed tone, you could hear the smirk dancing upon her pretty pink lips. “Nothin’ much, just feelin’ up my girl.” She finishes the statement with a firm squeeze to your boobs. Subtle. And just like that, the little devil was winning, you could hear their maniacal cackles metaphorically in your mind. 
“Ellie, my fuckin’ parents are asleep in the next room over, do you know how thin these stupid walls are?” “So?” “So??? Do you want me to die knowing they were woken up by their adult, straight-A, accomplished, child sneaking in her girlfriend in the middle of the night, like we’re teenage hooligans in a movie or something?”
You'd put Pinocchio to shame by lying like this, knowing full well having her cuddled up close to you, feeling her strong hands sensually explore every curve and valley on your body, and her wearing some of your favorite pajamas was slowly but surely getting you all worked up. All that in tandem with the risk factor was turning you on much more than you'd care to admit. Unpack that another day. Your face was burning and your heart rate was increasing whether you liked it or not, and your girlfriend was right there…a little messing around wasn't going to hurt anyone, was it? 
Hesitantly giving in, you turn around in bed to face her and wordlessly press a kiss to her lips, shoving down the lingering embarrassment. It surprises her and she doesn't kiss you back right away, instead laughs in your face and cracks more stupid dad jokes, only making you roll your eyes and punch her in the arm. She snickers, “Ha, not so good after all, are ya?”
When you don't throw a snarky remark back at her she takes your face in her bracelet-clad hand, thumb gliding across your bottom lip smoothly. The dim light in your room casts shadows on her face that make her look mystical, and hot as hell. “Wanna make you feel good.” She murmurs, mostly to herself, while scanning your features shamelessly.
You abruptly sit up and she follows, watching you quizzically. You look her up and down a few more times, just for the sake of it, before roughly yanking her towards you by the shirt and slamming your lips onto hers. She responds properly this time, slipping her tongue into your mouth with ease just how you like it, her grabby hands running all over your body, not knowing where to settle.
The kiss is hot and greedy, pure need coursing through your veins. You'd only been apart for a week at most, and it was definitely a week too long. Your own hands find their way up to her auburnette locks as you grab a fistful and pull, coaxing a scarcely audible groan rumble from her throat. You nip and bite down on her neck, stopping when you get to her pulse point where you could feel just how hard her heart was racing, reveling in the tiny pants leaving her lips as she tried so hard to stay as quiet as possible per your request, screwing her eyes shut and gritting her teeth.
She pulls you back up to meet her in a sloppy kiss, maneuvering the two of you so she was on top of you and you were on your back, gripping the soft flesh of your thighs as she places herself between your legs. Her fingers playing with your nipple while the front of her pelvis rammed against your heat was making you desperate for more of her, and quickly.
Her hands slid under your shirt and caressed your skin all over your entire torso, then you stopped her to take your shirt off and throw it to a corner of your room. Ellie wasted no time to place her mouth on your chest, peppering sweet kisses wherever her lips could reach, licking and sucking on your nipples until they hardened, pausing to stare up at you when the sensation made you squirm into her and sigh. “So much for being quiet, huh?” She taunts oh so smugly, thinking she's got to you. 
But her voice fluctuates in pitch as her mind becomes more clouded with arousal, resulting in you getting wetter and wetter. She was going to kill you. Bucking your hips into her in pursuit of some friction, she takes the hint and briskly undoes the bow on your pj pants, and slides her hand in. Her fingers land on the wet spot soaking through your underwear and she prods at it, just to annoy you further.
She really was being purposely insufferable today. You jeer at her, “can you just-” She shuts you up by kissing you again, messily and open-mouthed, swallowing every little sound you made. You pull her closer against you by the waist, and she whimpers. That turned you on even more, if that was even possible, your whole being thrumming with lust, new ideas materializing in your mind. What if you got back at her for being annoying, and in the best way?
The risk factor of having to stay impossibly quiet only added more fuel to the fire, and now you wanted to challenge it as much as you could. You snake your hand down her body and palm her pussy over her clothes and you swore you could feel her clench as soon as you made contact.
She lowers her head to your shoulder and her hand in your pants stops moving, you've officially broken this girl with one lazy touch. “Hmm?” You hum, feigning foolishness as if nothing was deliberate. “Seems you're the needy one here, Els.” Cooing at her in a low voice, her uneven breathing fills your ear. The way she'd planted herself on top of you made the task difficult but not impossible, and you shimmied your hand to her boxers, feeling up the wet spot that was surely triple the size of yours. Not cracking jokes now, is she?
And voila, you knew what your next moves were going to be. Your only goal was to have some fun with her now, just because you could. You began to rub your fingers up and down her slit, the thin fabric catching her clit perfectly making her breath hitch as she tries to suppress whines. “Hey, that's not…fair.” Ellie attempts to regain composure over herself and talks back through gasps, but you don't cease what you're doing. Breaking her was too good.
She fights back by copying your motions, her shaky hand rubbing your pussy at a messy rhythm, up and down, side to side, really not accomplishing much because eventually you win, and she removes her hand from you and presses her body against yours, clutching your waist for dear life and shoving her head in the crook of your neck to stabilize herself. 
Her whimpers and tiny moans were music to your ears, egging you on to do more. Moving the fabric aside, you slide a finger inside her needy, drenched hole, slick dripping down your knuckles as you find her spongy spot and curl your fingers against it. She hisses on top of you, clearly you were doing something right. 
Inserting another one, you could feel her walls clench and gush around your digits, as you ruthlessly pressed against her g-spot, the heel of your palm bumping against her sensitive clit, eliciting harsher whines from her, muffled by your shoulder. 
After a short few moments, you could tell she was about to cum by the way her pussy walls fluttered, and whimpers increased in desperation, sugary, dulcet “ah- haah"s escaping from her lips. 
“Gettin close, Els?” Your voice was supple as honey, you were enjoying this too much. She gulps and nods her head, “yeah..hn..please.”
Not so fast. “Hm, okay.” Replying in a cheery tone, as cheery as you can be while whispering that is, you stop all you're doing and tap her on the back. She puffs and sniffles, her voice small and trembling. “What'd you do that for?” 
She was too cute like this, you chuckled at her pathetic attempts to rut against you to get that release, and grunt in annoyance. 
“Patience.” “Whatever.” She grumbled. “Lay down.” You order her gently, and stroke her hair. Of course she obeys, she needed this too much. 
With shaky arms Ellie lifts herself off of you, pouting down at you then plopping herself down beside you in the bed. 
Switching places, you stare down at her fondly, wanting to make her feel good properly now. She deserved it after all that. You bend to kiss her forehead, which makes her blush go from rosy to crimson to maroon, her freckles blending in with her cheeks, and she bites her bottom lip while avoiding your gaze. Her expression was simply adorable, all flushed and fucked out already, all for you.
You grope at her chest, making her whine and scrunch her face up. “Need you, please.” She asks, so nicely, her normally confident voice breaking. Of course you'll give her what she wants.
You decide she's waited plenty enough, and tug her boxers and pajama bottoms off in one swift motion, discard them in the same corner of your room your shirt is currently residing, and get to work. 
Wasting not a second more, you rapidly shove your face in her pussy, latching onto her clit and sucking with fervor. Taking her in your mouth, grazing with the tips of your teeth ever so gently. She squirms beneath you, her knuckles turning white from how hard she's gripping the sheets on either side of her. 
Losing yourself in her, nipping and sucking and licking to your heart's content, humming at her taste and purring praises into her, “pretty, pretty pussy” the vibrations from your low voice reverberating through her only making everything more intense. One particularly forceful knock of the tip of your nose to her clit makes her squeal and close her thighs around your head, unfortunately that was much louder than preferable.
Both of you freeze, chests heaving up and down, staring dazed and wide-eyed at the other, and listen through the walls to see if it caused any disturbance, and you shoot a glare at her once confirming it was unnoticed by anyone in your otherwise silent house. Not a rustle was heard, thank goodness. You exhale through a whistle, then warn through your teeth, “One more sound and I'm pushing you right out that window, got it?” 
It came out meaner than you'd meant it to, but she accepts and nods meekly, responding in a wobbly voice, “M'sorry, can't help it.” You relax and press kisses on the soft flesh of her inner thighs, before resuming just as before.
You continue devouring her, her toned abs flexing and caving in beautifully, the light slurping and squelching sounds filling the room, all while holding her hips in place, fingers pressing into the shape of her muscles while she arches her back above you and her fist flies to grab onto your hair, with deathly strength. A symphony of choked “guh- uh” left her throat while you lapped up her slippery fluids, sensing her body twitch as her orgasm began to build. She didn't even have to tell you, you knew her body like you knew your own at this point.
Curling your fingers in her once more, tongue never halting its circles around her pulsing bud and a final thrust to her g-spot was enough to push her off the edge, finally.
The rush ripples through her as her whole body seizes and tenses up, she's creaming around your hard-at-work fingers, and you help her ride out the high by licking gently and weakening the pressure until she pushes your head away because it was getting too much. All that with no sound louder than a mere squeak and string of whispers resembling your name and a colorful array of profanities, she had bitten down on her hand so hard her canines had left dents, but otherwise looked so content and at peace. Gasps lessening and breathing steadying to the pace before, a faint smile on her pretty face, and her eyes lazily closed. 
Seeing her all satisfied and happy in turn made you happy, and you cuddled on top of her, laying your head on her chest. Her heartbeat was going at such a fast and frantic pace, you loved hearing it slow back to normal. 
Adjusting yourself made her wince, still so sensitive from all you did. “Sorry Els. Did so good.” You mumble and lean up to peck the side of her neck as she drapes her arms around your back and rubs in circles, calming the both of you.
She hums contentedly. “Love you.” “Love you too Els.” 
You didn't even care about cleaning up or moving or anything of the sort, because being close to her was all that mattered. The last thing she said before falling asleep and kissing you on the top of the head was, “To the moon and back.” And you fell asleep immediately after her, feeling loved and comforted just like whenever you spent time with her, your girlfriend's ideas always turned out well after all.
Now as for the morning, that was a problem for future you to deal with. Were your parents going to barge in your room and throw her out, or was it going to be an awkward conversation? Who cares? Now it was only time to drift off to dreamland together, hand in hand.
And that you did. You disappeared from this reality and into an ethereal dream world just like earlier, only she was there with you. It was eternally euphoric, the two lovers delightfully singing duets with the fairies, skipping into the horizon and climbing up the arcs of glittery rainbows, it was more than you ever hoped for. As if there never was any disagreement to begin with, all issues were solved when you were together with her, your other half.
Now this dream you really wanted to stay in forever, but since that wasn't possible, you vowed to savor and appreciate it, and her, to the fullest.
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lol someone sedate meeeeeee. idk how to end these. pikmin :3 IKKK THE ENDING IS RUSHED TOO AAAA whateva.
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li0nn3stuff · 3 days
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You left Aemond on read.
English is not my first language, be kind.
Modern!Aemond x fem!Reader 
Part one: You and Aemond fought, so he invites at dinner another girl
Part three: Aemond apologies
Warnings: Kissing, almost smut
“Let’s meet up.”
“To talk.”
That was three days ago. I sigh and I put on my jeans jacket. Underneath it, I was wearing a nice black top, that wrapped my upper body so good, cutting my waist just on the right spot, and squeezing my boobs good enough to make them more visible, along with it, a nice tight black skirt, that reached down under my knees and a simple pair of black converse.
I’m hot. I think to myself as I look at the mirror. Nice and hot. Fuck Aemond.
I grab my purse and my phone, the keys to my place and get outside.
Yes, fuck Aemond. I repeat to myself, nodding slightly. He was just a douche. I sigh and I turn my attention to the beautiful day today was.
“Jesus, you’re giving me a headache!” he shouted, he was almost fuming. “How can you be this fucking stupid? Uh?!” He kept shouting.
A beautiful day. I smile and I walk down the stairs, looking forward to my date with Jason. Fuck Aemond. I am way more happy to go out with Jason. I walked down the street, going to the bar where I was supposed to meet Jason. I immediately spot him from this far. I force myself to not roll my eyes when I see him giving me a simple nod as a way to greet me.
“Hey.” I smile when I finally reach Jason. He smirks at me.
“Hey, sexy.” he says back. Why was it not pleasant to hear that from him?
Hey doll. Fuck. Him. I press my lips together and force a smile. Jason put his arm around my waist, leaving his hand hanging on my butt, ready to slip lower. It embarrassed me, how he unashamedly touched me. There were tables with families, Jesus. I pull away as soon as we reach a table, sitting in front of him.
Jason was… unique. He had his own way of doing things.
“You seriously think he just wants to be your friend? Or that he is actually interested in you? He just wants to take it back on me.” He looked at me, almost smiling as you do to a child who doesn’t understand. I hated that look.
“How much of a self centered person are you?! Are you even listening to yourself? Stop acting like a pick-me girl!” That got him. He just snapped.
“I was surprised to hear from you.” Jason snaps me out of my thoughts and I smile at him.
“What do you mean? We texted a bit before.” I force a chuckle, and get the attention of a waitress. I get a glass of wine as Jason gets a beer.
“No, I mean… when you asked me out. Never thought Aemond would have let you do it.” He huffs a smile.
“Aemond doesn’t tell me what to do.” I answer, happy to see my glass of wine coming, and taking a long sip from it.
“Of course.” he mumbles, laughing to himself. I raise my brows at him, already getting annoyed. I take a deep breath and smile.
“What does that mean?” I try to sound nice. Jason shakes his head, still chuckling.
“I mean, of course you don’t do what people tell you, you’re a woman.”
My grip tightens around the glass. I take a deep breath, followed by a long sip of wine.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but I’ll tell you it’s not sounding good this far.” I say. Jason chuckles and fixes himself on his chair, leaning more towards me and smirking at me.
“Then let’s change the subject, shall we?” He says in a flirting way. Jason was cute. He was more than cute, he was hot. Really hot. Objectively talking. I smile back and nod. Like it was that easy for me to forget what he just said.
“Let me just go to the bathroom, okay?” Jason nods, still with that smirk on his face.
I get up quickly and I head to the bathroom, rubbing my hand on my forehead, when I suddenly get grabbed by my arm and pulled at the end of the hallway of the bathrooms.
“Leaving me on read? The audacity of yours.” he growls. I look up confused and I find myself trapped between the wall and Aemond. I frown.
“Get off of me.” I say and I pull my arm away, and Aemond lets me go.
“The fuck were you thinking, uhm?” he keeps growling.
“None of your business.” I immediately get on defensive.
“Getting out with Jason? I specifically told you to stop everything with him, texting, talking, and that includes going out with him, obviously.” he towers over me, and I’m forced to lean my head back to look him in the eye.
“Does it look like I care?” I spit back. Aemond lets out a cold laugh.
“You never fucking listen, do you? No. Jason.” He says, pissed. I cross my arms to my chest, and I see Aemond’s gaze drift immediately to my boobs, then he looks away, some way more angry.
“The only reason why you’re here with Jason now it’s me. You had to prove something to me. Well congrats, you did it! Now let’s go.” He grabs me by my arm and starts dragging me behind him as he goes for the exit.
“That’s not true!” It was. “This is not about you!” It was. “You’re just a self centered idiot.” I say as I try to resist.
“Going somewhere, Targaryen?” Jason sees us from the table as we go for the exit. Aemond stops and takes a deep breath.
“Just bringing my girl home.” he answers coldly, with his usual expressionless face.
How could it be possible that Jason calling me “sexy” almost made me cringe, but Aemond calling me something simple as “my girl” made my heart flutter? God, it was annoying.
“Doesn’t look like she wants to.” Jason smirks. “Let her go. I’ll bring her to my place, I’m sure she’ll find it more entert-“
Before Jason could finish his sentence, Aemond already started walking towards him, but I grabbed Aemond by his arm to stop him.
“No! No, Jason, thank you for everything, really. I’ll see you around, okay? Bye.” I pull Aemond towards me, and drag him outside, where he quickly redirects me to his car, opening me the door and hushing me inside.
Once he gets inside he closes the door harshly and he grips the steering wheel tightly. His nostrils flare as he takes some deep breaths to calm himself. He then starts the engine, as I cross my arms to my chest, and I look outside. Even the radio was off. Fine. He wanted silence? He’ll get silence.
No way I would be the one to talk. He was the dick. He got angry over something stupid and he messed it up. Though, even if I was trying to ignore the tension in the car, it was getting impossible, so I moved my hand to turn on the radio.
“Don’t.” his voice is glacial, and it actually sends shivers down my spine. I sigh annoyed and go back to looking outside.
“I hope I made myself clear today. To you? Jason is dead.” he adds then.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.” I answer back. Though, I wasn’t gonna ask Jason out again anyway, I didn’t really like him. He had too many filthy vibes, and not in a good way.
“Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn, uh? Why can’t you listen for once? Jesus, you're so annoying.”
“If I’m so annoying then why did you show up? Why am I in the car with you? Uh?!” I clench my hands into fists as Aemond clenches his jaw so hard that I almost think I’ll hear it crack.
“It would be nice to just have you listen to me sometimes.”
“Maybe I would have listened if you hadn’t insulted me.”
“You were being naive.” he says as he glances at me for a moment, then he goes back to looking at the road.
“And you think that’s an excuse?” I question. Aemond presses his lips together, as silence fills the car again. This time it is him that turns on the radio. Of course he knew I was right.
“I’m sorry.” he mumbles. I look at him surprised, with a hint of a smirk on my lips.
“You what?”
Aemond groans.
“You heard me. Don’t push it.”
“I didn’t hear you, I was listening to the radio.”
“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I acted like a dick.” he sighs. “And that I insulted you. I didn’t mean any of it, I just… I really can’t stand Jason. He’s a douche and I know that he would just love to steal you away from me, and see me suffer because I would be jealous that he would be the one who gets to have you .”
I am actually stunned. I expected a better spoken apology, but this was… did he just talk about his feelings? I look down and then back outside. Aemond had always had me lower my barriers. I know how much it’s hard for him to talk about his feelings, or say that he cares for someone. It got me more than I thought.
“You’re still here?” Aemond glances at me.
“Yeah… okay. I guess you’re forgiven.” I say as I give him a little smile. He glances at me again and grins.
“Never wear that top for anyone else.” He says. I chuckle, knowing that this was his favorite top of mine, he appreciates how it just evidences my shape just perfectly. He drives us to his place, and as soon as he cloves the door after me he puts his hand on my neck and pulls me to him, kissing me passionately, deeply, slipping his tongue in my mouth, caressing mine. I moan and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him close as his hands start roaming all over my body, ending up on my buttocks, that he grabs and squeezes hard, making me whine.
“Going out with another guy when you’re still mine, baby? That’s not good.” He slaps my ass making me gasp again. He bends and he puts his hands on the back of my thighs, lifting me up in his arms as he walks upstairs to his bedroom, kicking the door close with his foot. He lets me fall on the bed, and I try to sit up, but he pushes me back, unfastening his belt.
“On your knees.” he orders. I look up at him and I slide on the floor, getting on my knees in front of him as he looks at me. He uses one hand to unbutton his pants as the other caresses my cheek, I lean my head towards his hand, as his thumb passes over my lower lip, pushing it down.
“Let’s put this mouth to a better use, uhm?”
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jungqkook · 13 hours
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ YOURS TRULY ! hwang hyunjin
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⤷ in which, hyunjin shows you he’s nothing but yours
SMUT ₊ ⊹ softdom!hyunie ₊ ⊹ dirty talk ₊ ⊹ use of pet names ₊ ⊹ missionary ₊ ⊹ unprotected sex ₊ ⊹ creampie ₊ ⊹ nipple play ₊ ⊹ fluff, so much fluff <3 ₊ ⊹ this soooo random, i know. but i love some hyunjin smut on my dashboard :)
soft moans escape your lips as your ears are filled with grunts, enhancing the warm feeling between your thighs. you almost feel embarrassed as the only thing you can hear in the empty room is your wetness, alongside with the crushing of skin against skin.
but hyunjin does a great job at concealing them, his moans and praises distracting you from the wetness of your center. his body is pressed against yours, moving slowly, but oh, so temptingly as his hips maintain a slow, yet desperate rhythm.
“fuck, i love how your cunt feels around me,” he moans directly in your ear, his hand clutched tight on your hair. you moan at his words, tightening around him as he becomes louder at your action.
your nails softly scratch his back as his movements become harder, desperation building in him as you can tell he’s trying his best to keep himself from cumming.
but at the same time, it’s hard for him to resist to your cunt. especially when it feels like it was made for him, and only him. just like he’s entirely made for you.
which is something he likes to remind you every single time you’re together, no matter how many times he said it already; but how can he not do it? he’s so in love with you, with every part of your body, that he feels the need to express it every chance he gets.
and you feel fluttered every time, as if you can’t believe him, despite the honesty in his voice and the glimpse of truth in his eyes.
see, hyunjin is the most perfect human being you’ve ever met; kind, compassionate, a true romantic, a person with a view of the world that leaves you speechless every time.
but as every perfect person, he’s cursed with the gift of outstanding beauty, and the consequences that come with it.
you remember the first time you’ve brought him to meet your friends, their surprised expression still haunting your mind as their eyes wandered between him and you. as if they wondered how it was possible that you were dating someone like him.
you never miss the looks of beautiful, angelic women staring at him as you walk hand in hand down the street, their expression changing abruptly as they acknowledge your presence and turning into one of surprise – and you swore you’ve also read disgust in some of their faces.
but hyunjin never cared for what people thought of him, or if he did, he didn’t find them important enough to talk about them with you.
you, in the other hand, are the only thing he cares about, the sole focus of his love and attention.
in his eyes, you are the most beautiful creature he has ever set eyes on; and he never wastes the opportunity to remind you how much he adores you, spoiling you with so much care that leaves you astonished every time.
since you’ve started dating him, you found yourself longing for his presence every time you weren’t together; but you’re so blinded by your own love, that you barely notice how truly and utterly obsessed hyunjin is with you.
his friends couldn’t help but notice how he always gravitates towards you, how aloof he looks everytime they’re together, because the only thought in his mind is you.
it’s almost exaggerating, the way his mind always wanders to you, the main source of his happiness. but he has spent so much time loving you that he doesn’t remember what it felt like before knowing you.
before he became yours, from his body to his soul.
“my pretty girl– ah!”
you’re brought back to reality as you hear his breath become more laboured, his teeth finding your earlobe as you shamelessly moan at his action.
“hyun– hyunie…” you moan his name like a mantra, earning a soft ‘mhm’ coming from him as his movements become slower.
you almost whine at the change of speed, but he stills his movements as he raises his head from the crook of your neck, his eyes meeting yours as they look at you with need.
your doe eyes stare back at him, his hair framing his pale face as you bring an hand to move some strands away. the small, tender action is enough to make him melt, his eyes closing as he brings your hand to his lips to kiss it gently.
you feel your heart beating faster at his touch, tears pricking your eyes in response. even during sex, he can’t hide his romantic nature, always finding a way to remind you of his care for you.
“baby,” he calls you gently, his own hand meeting your cheek as he notices your shiny eyes, “my sweet girl.”
he melts at the sight of your doe eyes, eyebrows knitted slightly as your lips curve in a small pout; he’d recognise that expression in a heartbeat, and he wastes no time in kissing your pout away as he hugs you even tighter.
he presses his body impossibly tighter against you, his cock still buried inside your cunt as he kisses your cheeks in a tender manner, lips moving down to your neck.
“i’m so lucky to be yours,” he mumbles against your skin, leaving a wet trail of kisses anywhere he can reach.
you throw your head back as his mouth moves lower, teeth nibbling one of your nipples as he engulfs it with his lips. you grab his long hair as he toys with it, tongue flicking around it as you moan at the stimulation.
he looks up to you temptingly, tongue moving flat on your nipple as he stares at your lustful expression; he enjoys seeing you falling apart for him, moaning appreciatively as he feels your cunt tightening around his cock.
he leaves your nipple, adjusting his body so that could stare down between your legs, biting his lips at the sight of your bodies meeting. he notices your wetness leaking out your hole, moaning slightly at how warm you feel.
“fuck,” he moans to himself, before looking up to you again, “this is my favourite place to be.”
he grabs your thighs gently, pushing them away as he widens your legs. one of his hands meet your displayed cunt, thumb finding your clit as he presses against it.
your legs buckle at his sudden action, a loud moan leaving your mouth as the sensation of his cock inside you and your clit being stimulated makes you feel closer to the edge.
“hyunjin, please…”
you beg him to move, hips rotating against his as desperation pervades you entirely. he chuckles slightly, enjoying your body begging for his touch.
it makes him feel proud, knowing that he’s the only one that could make you feel this good.
“how can i say no to my baby?” his voice hides a small hint of mockery, enjoying how desperate you sound, but he himself can’t resist to you anymore.
not when you’re displayed like the most beautiful piece of art right in front of him.
he begins moving his hips, matching the movements of his thumb on your clit as you roll your eyes at his action. moans spill out of your lips, making him fasten his movements in response as your sounds fill his eardrums.
it drives him insane how erotic, yet somehow innocent you sound, and the fact that he’s the one making you feel this good sends shiver down his spine.
“you look so good for me– fuck… so innocent and pretty.”
you moan at his words, looking down at him as you notice him staring between your legs.
his movements are fast now, cock hitting your sweet spot as your belly bulges every time he grazes your cervix.
he wants to look at your pretty face, he truly does. but there’s something about watching you take his cock like a good girl that makes him go insane.
“this is where i belong,” he says, thumb pressing harder against your clit as his hips move faster, “between your pretty legs.”
you try your best to keep your legs wide open for him, failing miserably when he keeps hitting your spot. his touch on your clit is not helping either, sending you almost to the edge as your moans get louder.
“hyunjin, pleasepleaseplease, i’m so close!”
he hums at your words, smirking to himself as he moves down, his chest now pressing against yours. the action makes his cock reach impossibly deeper inside you, turning you into a moaning mess.
“cum for me, my love.”
his voice is gentle, matching his small kisses on your neck but contrasting the harshness of his thrusts.
it doesn’t take long before ecstasy engulfs you entirely, cumming undone around his cock as loud moans and strings of his name leave your lips.
your legs shake as he continues his attacks on your cunt, pounding you faster as he empties himself inside you, hissing loudly as his body shivers in utter pleasure.
his cum feels warm inside you, his cock pushing it deeper as he doesn’t even bother to take it off, body heavily falling against yours.
you giggle at the action, his head pressed against your boobs as he tries to recompose himself, catching his breath.
you bring a hand down, combing his black locks as he hums appreciatively in response. “i love you, pretty…” he whispers, voice slightly muffled against your chest, but you still hear his words.
you feel your heart swell, enjoying the feeling of his body embracing yours so gently, but so tightly – as if he’s afraid that if he loosens his grip, you might fade away like dust.
but deep down, he knows that could never happen.
he’s yours after all, the same way you are his. and nothing could keep you apart from one another.
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- YOU’RE MINE -
Summary: While you daydreamed about his face an ocean apart, he had no idea what yours was about to do to him. With a twist of fate and the heat of summer, a new relationship would completely ransack his heart - Everyday heavy with the thought of one another, neither of you were going to let the unexpected love of your life go. You were going to be his, you were his, and you were going to stay his.
Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestions, smut love bombing, occasionally sad, and kind of angst- not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!
Note: I hope you like it! There will definitely be more parts (don’t know how many just yet though.)
INDEX
Chapter 19 - ‘You’re Mine’
You were not as hopeless as your inner dialogue made you sound. You missed Trent so much your little heart hurt but you could live. You were busy with an array of things, you had gotten really active in local charities in Liverpool and initiatives especially Trent’s latest project launch. You had a degree from university that you didn’t really share with a lot of people around you but Trent obviously knew about it so your skill set came in handy. With the spare time you had you reached out to some contacts from your previous jobs you had put on hold back in New York. At the time you met Trent you were taking a little hiatus to just decompress. You were privileged enough to do that and well aware that is not something everyone could have the luxury of doing so once you got settled in England you started to connect with brands you worked with in the US that had UK offices. You got back into work freelance writing and styling. Your career before was in Fashion Editorial so it was an easy transition to get back into the swing of things. It made you feel better you were able to have a life outside of being Trent’s number one fan, even though that often was your favorite thing to be occupied with. Thankfully the two, Trent and work, were kept separated for the moment.
Before the tournament actually began you found that the little T- Bear Trent left for you just seemed to be with you 24/7. Tucked in bed with you every night, snuggled up on the couch watching television and as wonderful as that was, there was a certain part that this ‘T’ wasn’t able to… how do you put this… fulfill.
You were just about to whine down from the day but your hair and makeup were still done so you decided to take a few cheeky photos. A client, Agent Provocateur, a brand you adored, from an editorial piece you had worked on recently with them had gifted you some pieces of gorgeous lingerie. So you put on a little pink satin trimmed lace bra with a matching thong. The goal was to entice Trent obviously, but aside from that this set was making you feel confident which you seemed to be struggling with lately. You took some photos with the whole set on, some taking it off, some with it barely serving any purpose all while holding your new little bear. It was an incredibly sweet concept but far from innocent. You picked your favorites, ones you knew showed off things he’d enjoy so you sent them in a text unsolicited and unprovoked as you tucked into bed for the night. The little ‘delivered’ popped up under the sent photos and it quickly turned to ‘read.’ You knew he’d be excited to see them but there was always a little part of you that worried about how you actually looked in them, if he’d like them, and then of course about the potential consequences of sending such explicit photos when he’s at ‘work’ so you held your breath. He started to type and the three dots in the bubble appeared but stopped, started again only to disappear once again. The brief moment of confidence you had built started to waver. While you laid in your bed, a little disheartened, you put your phone far away from you to try to forget the situation until you heard the familiar ring of an incoming FaceTime.
“You’re such a tease, baby.” Trent rolled his perfect plump lips into a pout shaking his head but couldn’t really hold back the lustful grin he was really expressing. “I have training early tomorrow and you got me so fucking hard I can’t possibly get to sleep now.” He groaned. You sighed in relief that he did in fact really like your pictures.
“I’m sorry, T. I didn’t mean to bother you. I was just trying some things on and I thought you’d want to see. I didn’t mean to disrupt your night.” You feigned an apology playing coy.
“Nah, nah, nah you got me all worked up, miles away, sending me something I can’t have right now. You’re staying on the phone right now, helping me with this.” He sounded so commanding and it turned you on instantly.
“What can I help with, baby? To help, do you need me to keep this on or take it off?” You pulled the bra strap off your body to let it snap back against your skin.
“I wanna see more of you, beautiful. Take that off…Save that for when I can rip it off you myself and put your phone somewhere. I need to see all of you.” He instructed you so you leaned back against your headboard in front of your now propped up phone.
“This okay?” You asked craving his approval.
“Yeah, baby, just like that. You wanna spread your legs for me? Show me how wet you are.” He confirmed that was what he wanted to see. He began to stroke his cock from the tip to the base. His command had you stifling a moan.
“Fuck, you’re so hot. I miss you so much, T” you whimpered waiting for instructions till he asked for you to touch your clit, and then slowly slide your fingers into yourself. Just watching his cock get harder, hearing him pant on the other side of your phone had you inching closer to your release.
“Keep fucking that pussy,” he groaned. “Yeah, just like that, little faster, baby. Use your other hand and rub that clit again. Tell me how much you miss my cock.” His words had you crumbling. It was a cross between complete desperation, lust, and absence.
“I mi-miss it. I want your cock to fuck me, please. Ple..please I need your cock, T.” You whined. The tension and pressure released all at once causing you to whimper louder as waves of pleasure rippled through you. Your fingers coated in your slick. You couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, Trent repeatedly moaning your name as ropes of his cum spurted from his cock covering his abs. When you both came to, you smiled and wiggled in your bed giggling with him happy to feel the release but also to have achieved making him feel good from miles away.
“Fuck, that was so hot, you’re so beautiful, baby.” Trent said, laughing a little more while he cleaned himself up.
“I love you. Miss having you here with me so much.” You pouted. “Going to be able to sleep now?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll be okay now, thank you.” He chuckled. “I’ll be saving those pictures though, I might need them till I get you back.”
“Yeah, yeah but I think a call may be a little more mutually beneficial.” You giggled. “Goodnight, baby.”
“Love you, pretty girl. Miss you so much. Night.” Pushing his lips out for a virtual kiss before he hung up the phone.
A week later and many similar FaceTimes, you and Dianne were going to the Euro’s. You were traveling for the first match of the tournament. You and Dianne had a great relationship. You had essentially become like a daughter. She spoiled you, she always defended you against the boys teasing, you spent a lot of time shopping together or sitting pitch side. You appreciated her so much for all she did for you since you arrived in Liverpool and loved the idea of a little trip together. You checked into a lovely hotel and settled into your separate rooms but planned to meet up for a breakfast in the morning before you headed off for the stadium tomorrow.
It was the opening match of the group stage and the place was buzzing. You hadn’t seen England play in a big tournament like this yet as Trent’s girlfriend so you didn’t really know what to expect. You hoped you had adapted to life as a ‘wag’ at Liverpool but this was a whole new lot. You had made friends with a few girls you’d met at international friendly matches, the boys you knew on the team, and were excited to be able to see some girls from Liverpool whose partners were playing for other countries. That said as much as you had watched the Euros countless times before, to be there felt so strange. Thank god Dianne was with you. You both had opted to match in Alexander-Arnold white England kit shirts. You kept your outfit pretty casual not wanting to draw too much attention given the mayhem that seemed to be ensuing lately with your every move relatively near a football pitch. ‘Casual’ is all relative though when you are a little bit of a fashion girly so; you paired T’s jersey with R13 Crossover denim shorts, white and gray Prada ‘Downtown’ sneakers, a Mui Mui gray fleece hoodie in case you got cold, your new, very sweetly gifted, navy Dior saddle bag and what felt like just about every piece of gold jewelry you owned; you’d be remiss to not be wearing your prized possession; the white gold diamond Van Clef necklace Trent gave you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. That was always going to be on and the myriad of other little bits and bobs of jewelry he'd given you over time. You liked the look, it felt authentically you: low key but if you looked close enough the finer details told another story and you liked that.
You promised Dianne you’d help up her ‘MaG’ match day fits. You two had started an inside joke considering you were Mum and Girlfriend for Trent in the stands. It was cute and you were elated to help. Outside the stadium, you stopped a girl around your age to take a photo for you with Dianne to keep for a memory and you got that special photo but it also transgressed into plenty of questions because the girl was a fan which was sweet but in turn the exchange was shared to your least favorite part of the internet lately… social football gossip pages.
‘Okay, ICL, Trent Alexander-Arnold’s mum and his presumed girlfriend holding hands walking into the stadium was precious. The mystery girl is definitely no mystery to the fam’
The girl who kindly took a photo for you outside the stadium had also shared with a fan page another photo she had taken unsolicited as you walked away with Dianne.
Dianne held onto your hand still as you walked through the corridors of the stadium while masses of people swirled around you. It was insane. Complete chaos. A familiar chaos, but chaos nonetheless. England had a strong team this year and people were excited to say the least. You made it to your seats and your heart filled with relief seeing the tan skinned pretty pretty boy, smiling beaming, warming up ahead of the match. You leaned onto Diane’s shoulder in repose.
“It’s the best feeling in the world seeing him happy doing what he loves.” Leaning her head on top of yours.
“I know, I feel lucky I get to witness it. Even just to be a small part of the whole experience.”
“Hun, you’re a big part. Things changed when you came to England for him. He’s emotionally never been in a better place.” She cooed.
“I hope so, I just want to be there for him as much as I can. I try not to let my emotions ever sway his, like when I miss him. I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long.” You joked a little because you referring to ‘so long’ was really in reference to from birth to this very moment and having to share her son globally.
“One thing I always know, he does miss us when he’s away. He doesn’t need to tell us but you know he will always, even as focused as he is for work. More specifically, he misses you sweetheart…so much.” She placed a kiss on head. “You make that boy's life outside of all this so much better for him. Easier, happier, calmer, healthier, I could go on… so thank you hun.” Her words had your heart bursting. You always had an open relationship but to get such a verbal confirmation felt really nice.
When a Trent fan account finally published the photo of you and Dianne walking into the stadium together the response was different to the usual wrath of hate you’d receive from the public on the likes of gossip news sites. Instead these fans were enthused by the sighting. Commenting…
‘I feel like she’s probably super sweet if she’s that close with his mum’
‘Seeing her with his family makes me feel like she’s actually a serious girlfriend’
‘Okay, ngl, she actually looks too cool for him lol’
‘Matching with his mum is so precious’
‘Imagine Trent being your boyfriend 😭’
‘She’s with his mum 🥺’
You couldn’t have asked for a better opening match. England dominated and Trent got a decent amount of minutes and during his time on the pitch he managed to assist Bukaya for an unbelievable goal. It was just icing on the cake to see him after a couple weeks, have the result go their way, and to have him play well. When the final whistle blew it was such a special feeling being surrounded by people who all felt just the same as you. It was a big family just supporting boys that had worked so tirelessly to get here, to represent their country. When the team had wrapped up some post match duties they were able to come over to the stands to meet up with their families after the stadium had cleared out. Trent walked over with a smile that made your heart melt. You leaned over the railing to give him the biggest kiss. His arms reached up to grab your face, yours falling around his neck. You both hummed at the satisfaction of being back together. The kiss felt like fireworks for you, your whole body ignited feeling his lips on yours. Trent’s body on the other hand fell into complete comfort and relaxation soothed by your touch.
“Missed you so much, baby.” He whispered his lips ghosting over yours.
“My T” you giggled, pressing one more peck before pulling apart.
“Lemme climb on up, pretty girl.” He needed to get off the pitch over into the stands so he did haphazardly because his body was exhausted.
“You were amazing, sweetie. So proud of you Trenty.” Dianne cooed, giving him a big tight hug. Diane stayed standing but Trent collapsed onto a seat in the stands burnt out.
“T, honestly so good. You were incredible.” Leaning over to give him another kiss. You sat next to him and he wrapped his arms around your waist and laid his head onto your shoulder. He pressed light kisses to it and you did the same to his temple. Dianne stood there talking to you both about the match before going over to talk to Jude Bellingham’s mum, Denise, after spotting her now the match had finished. With the idea of being alone with you, despite being surrounded by friends, family and teammates, Trent sprawled out across a row of seats and laid his head in your lap. You caressed his face and played with his hair while you two gushed about how much you missed each other. He was practically stuck to you. He couldn’t pull his hands or lips off your skin if he tried. Kissing your wrists as they moved over his face, pulling your face down for proper kisses every once in a while, purring as your nails scratched his scalp.
“Trent, come here quick.” Dianne yelled for him evoking a disgruntled face on the boy who had gotten quite comfortable back under your touch. So he stood up and made his way over to talk to the two mums. Despite telling him you’d stay put, he dragged you with him, pushing you in front of him while his hands wrapped around your waist. He kept his chin on your shoulder listening to his mum while his idle fingers played with the belt loops of your shorts. You introduced yourself to Denise who was as kind as her sons were. You’d met and spent a lot of time with both her boys since you moved to England, knowing how polite they were, it made sense she’d be that way as well.
“Going to do a lunch after the group stage with them, five of us, yeah?” Dianne was informing you and Trent about a plan she and Denise had made to go out before the England Team were hosting a little party for all the families.
“That sounds lovely!” You cheerfully smiled liking the idea of getting time together away from other than just seeing the boys from a distance on the pitch. Trent didn’t say anything, he just smiled seeing you smile. He missed the way your cheeks warmed when you did. Jude waddled his way up the stairs of the seats sore from the game coming up to you all, first giving a hug and kiss to his mum, then to Diane and then looked at you, smiled, and then rolled his eyes at Trent who was lost still gazing at you.
“Gonna let go for a minute so we can all say hello?” Jude joked removing Trent’s hands stuck to your body.
“Hi Judey” you giggled giving him a big hug. Lately he and Trent were together most of the time when league play was suspended for breaks and he found himself back in England so you had gotten close. He was coming on your holiday after the tournament. The holiday had funnily become a little bit of a boys trip that included you and your best friend, but moreover Trent obviously, Marcel was coming, Jude, and Jobe, his brother, had decided to tag along, and then a few other boys. You didn’t mind but it was a little comical now. Jude could sense the humor in it and knew your relationship well enough that you just were dying to be laying on the beach with Trent, alone, unbothered, but that more than likely wouldn’t be the case now.
“All good? Ready for this to be over?” You pulled out of his hug rolling your eyes at his comment as he sat down in front of you leaning on the back of a seat a row below you.
“What do you mean! Very excited to be here for the next two weeks” you beamed sarcastically.
“It worries me how good you are at lying. It’s unsettling for my brother” he shoved at your shoulder while glancing at Trent.
“No, seriously! I am actually really excited. This is amazing though. You played so well, lucky to be supporting England.” You clarified.
“Yeah, just don’t open your mouth too much and you might pass as one of us.” Jude teased about your accent but was quickly reprimanded by Denise. She scolded Jude telling him to be nicer and you just smiled relishing in the mum's protection over you.
The boys had to go back to the dressing room after getting to say hello which was bittersweet and came all too quickly. Luckily in a few days time they’d be out of the group stages and would have a few days off so you could see Trent then but right now you had to say bye.
“Call me tonight?” You cooed, draping your arms around Trent’s neck, his arms coming to drop low on your waist pulling his jersey you had on up to caress your skin, dipping his hands into your shorts slyly.
“Course, baby. I’m just so glad you’re here.” He whispered, pulling your body a little closer to his pushing his hips into you.
“Wouldn’t be anywhere else, T.” You quietly said back pressing your nose against his.
“Love you, beautiful” he said with a little peck to your lips.
“I love you.” You sealed with another kiss. Your focus only on each other.
“Honestly, enough. I’m going without you.” Jude dramatically but in, hitting Trent’s arm before proceeding to stand up. Trent said goodbye to the mums, and you again with another swift but sweet kiss and a sneaky squeeze to your ass cheek before hurrying after Jude. He turned and winked at you before disappearing down the tunnel.
Later that evening, the England Instagram account posted a carousel of families reuniting after the first win of the tournament. None directly featured you, Diane or Trent but behind a photo posted of the Bellingham family were you and Trent having a cuddle while sharing a sweet kiss. There definitely was a fair share of comments who caught the affectionate interaction. In turn, cropped images of the photo, zooming in on you two, blew up all over socials again,
‘They’re not even trying anymore lol’
‘I’m happy for them 🥹’
‘Trent, I don’t need to see you cheating on me like this’
‘To kiss that sweaty man, I’d die’
‘Still just avoiding cameras, like fam, we know your together lol’
You and Diane continued going to the remaining group stage matches with England performing well. Trent even bagging a goal so the brief moments seeing him after the games were just so special. Being so close but unable to properly be alone and cuddle or kiss was slightly driving you both insane. So you spent the nights apart FaceTiming only mere hotels, short distances apart. Trent would vent about the games and you listened intently trying your best to not add unnecessary additions to the already noisy commentary he was surrounded by, you’d joke around, if there wasn’t a game directly the following day, things would get a little steamier on the call but overall you just repeated how much you missed being back at home together. More often than not you two just stayed on the phone till you both fell asleep making one of you wake up hours later and having to end the call that had been ongoing for hours of just your sleeping faces lit by phone screens.
As expected the England team finished top of their group so they were to have a few days off before the knockout stage began which meant you got to spend some time with your T. He did have to go to a short morning training session after last night's game but he was coming to meet you and his mum at your hotel to see you both after. You always grappled with sharing Trent but his mom was an exception, she deserved all his time and attention so you were hoping for a little sliver. He met you later in the day after the training session in a tea room of the hotel you and Dianne were staying at and joined you for brunch. Somehow if it was even possible, Trent walked in and looked even more beautiful than he ever did. He seemed to have that effect on you. It didn’t matter if it had been 5 minutes when he’d walk to the kitchen and back or days since you last saw him but when he’d return he somehow looked even more handsome than before. His mum stayed seated and she gave him a little side hug. You opted to stand up to give him a tight hug, you missed his warm embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and his familiar amber smell engulfed you. You could’ve stayed there forever. You kissed his neck gently, subtly, and quietly to keep it hidden from his mum but Trent wasn’t having that.
“Erm…I’d like a proper kiss, beautiful.” He beamed with a big smile, his lips pushing out waiting for you. His hands slid up from around your waist to hold both your cheeks. He placed a heart stopping kiss on your lips and you felt your legs almost give out. He was like a dream all the time. You finally sat and had a nice little meal filled with conversation more so about what was happening back at home than football, he wanted the break from the intensity. When Dianne excused herself to run to the restroom, Trent pulled your chair a little closer to his. He placed another kiss on your cheek.
“What’d you doing, pretty boy?” You cooed, unable to hide the smile he was pulling from you and the flush rising in your cheeks smitten by his flirty move.
“Wanna be closer to my girl” his hand came and wrapped around the back of your neck stroking his thumb over your exposed skin. In your Trents true fashion he had shown up with a little gift for you. “Got you a little something, baby.”
“T!! You don’t always have to do this!” You quipped in feigned annoyance. You gestured to the Dior Saddle bag you were using today again but it still always was a little exciting “I don’t need anything. I just need this.” You said, moving your hand over his resting on his leg, playing with each of his fingers slowly. It was true, just being close to him was enough for you but nevertheless he pulled out a little box.
“Just so you don’t forget where you’re loyaly lies on match days, yeah?” You opened the little jewelry box that had a Monica Rich Kosann locket that opened with two little pictures; one of you and T hugging in the tunnel at Anfield in his Liverpool kit, the other of you and him sharing a cute kiss in his England uniform. It just made you melt. He was so thoughtful and cute. “I know you're technically only half American but don’t you forget whose you are, beautiful. You’re all mine.”
“I’m pretty sure I know who I’ll be rooting for always. Always yours.” You said giggling, “but thank you, baby. I love it and I love you” leaning your head on his shoulder nuzzling into that familiar smell as his arm wrapped around you. He pressed light kisses on your head while you whispered little mushy things back and forth. When Dianne returned she smiled entering the main room seeing that her departure caused your chairs to move inexplicably closer. She liked to see that her very reserved boy found someone to be so comfortable, protective, confident and unequivocally in love with. She sat back down but it wasn’t long until she excused herself again.
“I need a little rest, a shower, and some time to get ready for tonight to keep up my ‘MaG’ looks so I’m going to head up.” She stood up from the table, placing her napkin down, pushing her chair in and placing her hand gently on yours briefly.
“MaG?” Trent questioned, looking between you and his mum for some context on the inside joke he was clearly left out of.
“Don’t worry about it” you laughed in Dianne’s direction telling her if she needed you to text you but she just wanted to let you and Trent to spend some time alone together.
“Thank you hun!” She kissed Trent’s head and squeezed your arm. “I’ll see you both a little later on before we meet with Denise and her boys.” You said your goodbyes but you stayed a little longer cuddled up as close as you can be in a restaurant setting picking at little sandwiches and sweets. Eventually, Trent and you finally left and went up to your room where he dramatically crashed on the bed, rushing to get under the covers like a little boy because he was ‘so tired.’
“T! T! Shoes! Gross!” You squealed, pulling at his arms to get him out and off your freshly cleaned hotel bedding.
“Wowwwww already asking me to take my clothes off. Eager much, baby?” He teased starting to get out of the bed begrudgingly.
“No…no, well” you blushed at his words. “I wouldn’t complain but I just meant if you could not get my bed all dirty I would appreciate it” you gave a genuine smile and a sweet giggle that made his heart falter.
“So you don’t want to be dirty in bed?” he sat up on the bed with a cheeky and devious smile, his legs hung off the side and he held his arms out for you. You moved over and stood between his legs, his hands caressed up your back pulling your shirt up with them, “With me? Not even me baby?” He gave you a look that made you cave immediately. You let him pull your shirt off over your head and after he did your hands reached out to pull his off.
“I missed this body. You’re so fucking beautiful. Been dreaming of this.” He said, dragging the strap of your bra down off your shoulder.
“Dreaming of what, T? What do you need?” You cooed with a sly smirk as your hands played with the waistband of the skirt you still had on.
“I need all of this…” sliding the mini skirt down your legs. “off right now.” He said gently, his words dripping like honey, his hands moving in slow motion. Making your skin burn.
You were standing in front of him completely naked now. He sat back resting on his arms behind him on the bed. The hotel room light cast over you illuminating the dips of your collarbones, highlighting the rise of your tits, the smoothness of your skin. Trent stared in awe just about drooling over his girl.
“Baby, I’m gonna need you here right now.” He said pulling your waist towards him. You sat with your legs on both sides of his and straddled him, feeling his prominent bulge growing harder and harder beneath your wet core.
“And I’m going to need these off, T.” You said pulling off his trousers. In quick motions all clothing was removed, Trent had flipped you over to be on top of you making out passionately, whispers and gasps of ‘I love you’ and ‘missed this so much’ muddled in between messy, sloppy, yearning kisses. You spit a little on your hand and gently gilded it up and down the length of his cock. His fingers slid between your folds gathering your wetness to play with your clit while he dipped two in to help stretch you out.
“Shit, that feels so good, sh-shit, I’m not gonna last very long, it's been a while without you. You’re so fucking tight” Trent was panting, losing focus at just the feeling of you.
“Baby, I need you so bad, can we just ju-just. Please I miss you so much T.” You were moaning as his languid fingers circled your clit begging for him to fuck you. His mouth nipped down your neck before his tongue circled and licked around your hard nipples eliciting a whimper of pleasure from you.
“Yeah, yeah, sweet girl. I’m gonna give you whatever you need.” He groaned. In swift motions he slowly aligned his cock with your core and slid into you. You both gasped at the contact. He moved slowly inch by inch but he just wanted to get as deep as possible. He missed this feeling like nothing else. His thick cock hit your g spot almost immediately once he was in. He felt so deep and the stretch of him being back inside you had your mind turn to complete mush. You lost any control you had when he was fully inside. The force and pace of his thrusts increased and so did the volume of both your moans. “You’re such a good girl, so fucking wet for me.” He said hearing the sounds of your slick as he dragged his cock slowly out of you and watched himself push all the way back thrusting harder. Your legs wrapped around him. You were whining in pleasure. Your lips parted gasping at the sensation of him. You both were moaning inexplicable phrases of praise, love, and adoration. You were completely obsessed with each other and how good the sex was only amplified it.
“Oh my fu-fucking god, T, you feel so good.” You felt tears fill your lash line. His cock rammed deep inside you again and again, hitting a spot only he knew, while his finger pressed rough circles around your clit. He dipped his head a little and played with your nipples more, pulling at them and biting. You could barely handle the sensory overload so you bit harshly onto his shoulder to try to quiet your moans.
“Fuck, baby, your pussy’s so perfect for me. Taking me so well.” He growled moving to nibble at your ear, his hot breath on your skin had your orgasm approaching faster and faster. He pulled back nearly all the way out and hammered back in. Tears started to roll down your cheek. Your arms wrapped around his body so tight your nails were digging into his skin leaving deep crescent marks while Trent continued to fuck you at an inhuman pace.
“I missed you, I missed this. You feel so fucking good. I want this forever.” You babled as your legs started to tremble. Your orgasm was getting closer and closer. Your eyes rolled back as you heard him moan your name again, again, and again.
You were getting lost in the pleasure that your T was giving to you while he was just as infatuated by your body and the sounds you were making had him fighting to not cum without you getting to orgasm first.
“You have me forever.” He whispered barely getting the words out softly in your ear. In a split second you felt your pussy spasm at the tenderness of his words and his rough strokes. You soaked his cock completely when you felt his release fill you up so much, it began to seep out while he was still inside. He laid on top of you for a while before he spoke again.
“I’m so addicted to you, beautiful. Can’t be away from you like this.” He murmured laying on your chest completely exhausted
“I guess we’re both addicts then” you giggled tracing your fingers up his spine. He continued laying there just holding you. You kissed him slowly. You were both so tired in the hotel room. “My sleepy, sleepy, needy boy.” You cooed, pressing your lips on his warm skin. You were so authentic with each other. Being back together felt like a saccharine summertime daydream. Feeling your New York daydream turned into your reality. Your love was undiluted, nothing felt better than being physically connected like this .
“We have to go soon, baby.” Trent finally picked his head up to nuzzle into your neck placing kisses all over your skin. If you could bottle this feeling forever you would, it was worth more than its weight in gold.
“I just want another cuddle, pleaseee” you whined childishly and in turned caused Trent to just let all his body weigh on top of you and wrap his arms so tight around you thought you couldn't breathe but the sound of his joyful laugh had you able to completely disregard the bone crushing pressure and just relish in the moment. You wanted to hear him happy, you wanted to see that beautiful smile pull across his face, the smile lines wrinkle, his little dimples appear so you let it ensue. Eventually you both got up and started to get dressed to meet with the Bellinghams; Denise, Jude, and Jobe at the restaurant and to meet Dianne downstairs at the hotel.
Trent needed to shower but you opted not to because your hair would take too long to do if you did which disappointed Trent because he claimed he needed your ‘help’ but in reality he just wanted another round of messing about to his disappointment you held your ground. Instead you began your skincare and makeup at the vanity in the hotel bathroom before moving back to the bedroom and sitting with a pout looking at your suitcase confused.
“What do you think I should wear? I don’t know Denise that well and I don’t know what people have said about me so I don’t want to like… I don’t know, mess up.” You nervously babbled rummaging through your suitcase on the floor.
“You look beautiful in anything.” Trent picked you up off the ground to give you a hug still wet from his shower.
“That’s incredibly unhelpful, T, seriously.” He placed a kiss on your forehead to try to calm your nerves. “Erm… I’m wearing this,” said showing you the outfit he had layed out of the bed. “If that helps at all.”
“Baby… I picked that out though” so you both started laughing.
Because you were going to the England team’s event after you wanted to be a little ‘on theme’ but not exactly sporting Saint George’s cross. You picked a pair of white linen trousers from Cult Gaia, a navy and white striped knit tank from Kule, paired with a Bottega Veneta mini sunrise bag in red, you also opted to bring a Jacquemus denim jacket in case you got cold. Oh! And of course shoes so red Manolo Blahniks were the choice. Your boobs were on display a little bit from not wearing a bra with the top but having a jacket would be a good cover. The pants fit your waist perfectly and when standing showed off your incredible figure. You wanted to be casual so your shoe choice was flats. Once you were dressed you walked over to help fix the collar of Trent’s shirt. He wore tailored khaki cargo style pants, a white t-shirt, a Rhude button up open overtop and a pair of Louis Vuitton trainer sneakers.
“You’re so so so handsome. It’s a little unfair.” You said as he stood in front of a full length mirror inspecting his outfit and you went and wrapped your hands around his biceps and leaned your head on his shoulder.
“I have to keep up with you don’t I?” He cheekily said, squeezing his hands around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss.
You went to the lobby and Dianne asked if you wanted a photo, well she wanted one of you two, you obliged not particularly upset about capturing memories. Trent and you took a few and Dianne gushed over how beautiful she thought you both were. You had Dianne send them to you and Trent but neither of you posted the photo. Your camera rolls were filled with photos like this that never saw the light of day only when they were printed and hung in the house or a rare occasion where you’d post a more subtle pic of you holding hands walking down the street in your fits like you did tonight.
You held hands as you walked down cobble streets till you saw the Brummie Bellingham family waiting outside the restaurant for dinner. The group of the three boys, two mums, and yourself filed into the restaurant and per usual heads began to turn. Trent was one thing but Jude out in public was another animal… the two of them together; Pandora’s box. You sat at a table nestled in the back of a nice restaurant, you were relieved your outfit of choice was appropriate. To no one’s surprise, you sat close to Trent. One part of the table had a booth for seating and you took his lead so Trent helped you slid in before he followed. Your thighs were touching immediately, one hand wrapped around your waist low with his thumb in between the fabric of your trousers and your skin. The other gripped high on your leg till he needed to use it to look at a menu. Trent, Jude, Jobe honed in on some conversation regarding a referee error that happened in another countries group match. You nodded your head following along, you had seen the story, and Trent had explained it at length. Trent pulled on your waist to get you to be a little closer to him so you gave into his wishes and placed your head on his shoulder. He placed a kiss onto your hair in between sentences. Dianne and Denise were talking about something you couldn’t really hear but they were engrossed in their own back and forth until Dianne tapped at your hand that was resting on the table top.
“Hmm?” You picked up your head with a smile turning towards her. Trent unphased with his hand still gripping you tight.
“Come talk with us sweetheart.” She cooed, gesturing her head towards the other side of the table. You didn’t need his permission but you looked at Trent peeling his fingers off your waist to slide over to talk to the mums before whispering in his ear.
“Okay?” You asked with no real expectation for an answer you just wanted to note what you were doing.
“You can only listen to so much hun.” Denise spoke with a smile you hadn’t really seen her crack yet. Another mum of only boys made you nervous.
“It’s fine, I think when I hit the 15th time discussing the same call, I start to check out a little.” You giggled picking up a glass of wine, bringing it slowly to your lips holding it there a little longer after your sip.
“I understand that, imagine over 20 years of football chaos all day every day. It’ll never end.” Dianne and Denise laughed reminiscing about going from grassroots teams to the biggest stadiums in the world with their little boys.
“I don’t mind. I do actually love football…” you paused and giggled a little before your gaze drifted away from them to Trent. “Maybe not to the same extent of course but it’s nice when people are passionate about something, really love, devote, and care about it.” Your eyes fell back towards them but more so to the table where you played with the rings on your fingers. Trent felt your gaze but missed the connection so he reached over a little and linked his pinky with your hand that was on the seat of the booth before giving you a soft smile. Denise and Dianne watched the exchange and the way your words softened talking about being passionate and what it meant to really love something catching that it wasn’t maybe only about football but about someone sitting at the table who was playing football.
“I heard you followed football before you moved here, is that right?” Denise asked, giving you a sweet smile.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s always been something my dad and I bonded over, had a connection with, I actually played till I was around 16 or so but didn’t really want to play at university so it faded out but when I got older following a team with my dad really kept us close and that’s important to me. We’ve created some of the best memories together at matches.” You rambled a bit, maybe it was the wine, or just panic trying to speak to Denise but you felt a little on edge.
“You did not play footie! That’s bullshit.” Jude’s head turned towards you.
“Jude…” Denise gave a stare that if it was directed at you, you’d probably cry but he just shrugged.
“Sentiment still stands, I don’t believe that.” Jude scoffed.
“Nah, she did! Kept the little secret in her back pocket for a while.” Trent confirmed it was in fact true with a little chuckle.
“Okay, well I wasn’t going to walk up to you people who do it professionally and be like ‘oh I played too!’ That’s embarrassing.” You sarcastically swayed your head back and forth making fun of how ridiculous it would’ve been.
“It still would’ve been interesting to know.” Jobe piped up and it made you smile. You just wanted to pinch his cheeks but he was older than that, definitely not as naive as he played but truly was adorable.
“Thanks, Jobe” you gave him a heartfelt smile. “Jude, you just listening in on our conversation?” You teased picking up your fork and pointing it at him.
“Nah, nah, you’re not all that interesting.” Jude pointed his fork at you emphasizing ‘you’ while he rolled his eyes.
“I’d say otherwise but each their own.” You imitated the same shrug he did earlier.
“You’ve had quite a whirlwind couple of years though sweetheart, at least from what I’ve heard. What did you do before you moved to the UK?” Denise, now interested in how you ended up at this dinner table and that there were things her boys were even still learning about.
“Oh, um, I went to university for a degree and then worked in fashion for a little and in what felt like a blink of an eye I ended up here.” You smiled, oversimplifying your backstory.
“Wow, Hun! Pretty, smart, funny, pushes back against my Jude. Trenty, you’ve got a good one.” Denise cooed looking at Trent whose eyes were still fixed on you from when you were speaking.
“Yeah, absolutely perfect. Worth getting her to move countries innit” Trent gushed eyes still stuck on you before sliding your body back over to him to wrap his arms around your frame placing a little peck on your neck.
“Done well” Dianne cooed, smiling at Trent’s clear obsession while taking a sip from her glass.
“Well then you’ve suddenly become my default to keep all the boys in line on this Greece holiday.” Denise joked a little but it was laced with a bit of seriousness.
“I always do, she’s been looking after mine for a bit now.” Dianne creased, the two mums were having a laugh themselves so you let it play out. The bulk of dinner wrapped up and Denise and Dianne decided they’d let the four of you get up to some nonsense without them so they said their goodbyes, hugs and kisses, and started to walk away from the table.
“Di, he is in love with that girl.” Denise quietly spoke to Dianne as they walked.
“Oh, I’m aware. It’s mutual too, think she’s more shy about the affection because he’s in his element or spaces he’s already familiar with but it’s totally infatuation all the time”
“Think they want to get married?” Denise asked the blatant question.
“I know Trent would, he’s slyly mentioned looking at rings but I keep my mouth shut.” Diane smiled just keeping her eyes forward as Denise glanced back at the table.
“It’s the only way we get any information now, just being quiet I swear” Denise laughed at the reality of their situations.
“She’s so good for him and he’s good to her. They make each other so happy, their house is gorgeous and so warm. It makes my heart full that they built this all from some whirlwind interaction.” She paused having a think. “Oh, god, you know what, yeah I’d really want that for them. Whole family loves that girl to bits.” Dianne babbled getting caught in the idea of what the future had in store for you and Trent.
You and the three boys decided to grab the check but go to the bar, you didn’t really need to sneak Jobe in with you like you normally would with a younger boy just being with Jude and Trent was like going anywhere with a free pass so it was no problem.
On cue, a few girls approached asking for photos with the boys so you happily helped take some for them. They wanted individual photos with Jude and then Trent. When one girl was posing for her photo with Trent she was a little bit more handsy than you cared for but it was only a photo so you bit your tongue. She wrapped her arm around his waist and placed her palm over his chest like a couple may pose. Jobe gripped your shoulder with his hand sensing the tension as you tapped away taking the photos on her phone. Even he knew it was probably a step too far on the girls' part. The other girl waiting for her turn for photos with Jude and Trent squealed a little.
“Literally you look like a couple! You’d be so cute together.” The fan said with a cheeky wink to her friend. Jude was quick to cut the encounter, none of you wanted to make a big deal but it still didn’t make you feel great.
“Alright darling, you want your picture with me too or just Trentski, C’mere” Jude cooed with false flirtation. The girl detached and Jobe said he’d take the remaining photos. You were polite and smiled to the girls and let them know if they needed you to take more you would but Trent walked up to you and draped his arms over your shoulder, his hands caressing the back of your head before you could really do anything else.
“Getting jealous, pretty girl?” Pressing his nose against yours. “Hmm, baby?” His lips pulled into a sly smile. You leaned in and rested your head on his chest before you started pressing light kisses over his shirt up to his collarbone and then his neck, all the way to his ear.
“Don’t like seeing you with someone else,” you quietly admitted. “You’re mine, baby.” You pouted your lips, he couldn’t see but could probably feel them roll against his skin. He grabbed both your cheeks and held your face out in front of his. You innocently looked up at him through your lashes. He teased you a little bit pressing small kisses to your neck now the same way you did to him but his were heavy with a more sensual motive. He heard you purr a little at the sensation so he took it a step further and began whispering against your sensitive skin about what he was going to do to you back in your hotel room; his words interspersed by kisses. You tried to hold back a moan before pulling him in for a proper kiss needing one to hold you over knowing you were in for a long night of cheeky hand placements and sultry kisses until you made it back to the promised land i.e your hotel room.
Thank you for continuing reading! Comment or message what you think of the chapter / series … 🤍
On to Chapter 20 😱 xx
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farfromstrange · 11 hours
Text
Interview With The Vampire | Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Reader
-> Main Masterlist
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Pairing: Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Reader (she/her)
Summary: You are the first journalist to interview Hell’s Kitchen’s resident vampire vigilante after he requested you personally to tell his story. He’s offering you a way out of your miserable job—to make your voice be heard. You’re desperate and curious, so you decide to take the risk. Most people only know him as Daredevil, but you are about to learn who’s really behind the mask. How hard can it possibly be? As it turns out, interviewing a vampire is a lot more complex than you expected it to be, and Matthew Michael Murdock has set his mind on ruining you for any other man to come.
Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI), alternative universe, blood play, marking, scent kink, slight Dom!Matt, unprotected p in v, oral f!receiving, biting, vampirism, angst, religious imagery & symbolism, Catholic guilt, mentions of violence, allusions to suicidal thoughts, lots of plot, age gap
Word Count: 12.2k (this is a beast)
Other Characters: Vampire!Elektra (mentioned), Ben Urich (mentioned)
A/n: I finally got this one edited. This is a beast, y’all! I drew inspiration from Anne Rice’s Interview With The Vampire, but particularly the 2022 AMC series (I fell in love with it then and there), but it’s not based on it, so I just played around with the idea and this came out. It’s a lot, but it wasn’t enough for a full-blown series, so you’re getting a big ass One Shot instead. I used my usual Smut tag list, but since this is slightly Dead Dove Do Not Eat, heed the warnings and proceed with care! Don't read it if you don't want to. Anyway, I hope you like it!
Read Me On AO3!
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The sun has long set over the Big Apple. Artificial neon, cars, and ceiling lights burning in the highrises along the riverfront cancel out the darkness that has befallen the country’s east. Noise melts into a flood that rolls over people’s senses, but most in New York City have grown numb to the city that never sleeps. 
Sirens follow cacophonies of screams. Teenagers get into clubs with their fake IDs, adults get drunk in bars or go to work the night shift at their underpaid jobs, and the other half cry themselves to sleep, knowing they will have to get up in the morning and go through the same hell all over again. 
Life has become a miserable existence, and it leaves human beings wondering, ‘How much longer do we have to endure this before we all finally drop dead?’
The system fails them. The law fails to protect them. All they can do is lie down and wait to die. And they will die sooner or later. That’s inevitable. 
In Hell’s Kitchen, in a penthouse with a view of the Hudson through colored windows that gloss over during the day and show the city throughout the night, resides someone who most of the city only knows by an alias—Daredevil. 
If anyone crosses him, he will suck them dry. It’s not a metaphor, I’m afraid; his reputation precedes him. Criminals fear the red eyes that come with fists and a sharp set of teeth that will surely run them into the ground. The rest of the city feels a little safer with him, but so far, no one has dared to question his nature. 
Fear is known to work as a paralytic. And this man living in the penthouse by the Hudson is the personification of what one might consider fear-inducing. Without the fear of others, he would not be thriving. 
An apex predator like him lives for the thrill of the kill. When the adrenaline spikes, it makes the prey start running and the blood taste so much sweeter. It is to a creature of his kind what a good glass of century-old red wine would be to a human being; he savors every last drop of it.
Two years out of your Master’s degree at Columbia University, you have become one of those hard-working adults who fall into bed later than they should, and you lie awake at night, wondering how much longer you have to exist before you can live.
You interned at the Bulletin; you ran the true crime and mystery column for over a year before the newspaper shut down. A billionaire from downtown Manhattan bought it to start his own magazine, and you were the only employee he didn’t fire. Instead of relying on your top-tier education and experience though, he has banned you to the lifestyle and beauty column. He’s a beast if you have ever seen one. 
On a Monday in June then, after the sun has risen and is now falling again, you find an envelope on your desk. You glide your fingers over the fancy paper. The letters are written in handwriting that resembles the old letters from the 18th century you had the pleasure of using as research material for your Bachelor’s thesis.
Your heart skips a beat. Could it be…
It is no secret that vampires exist.
Over two decades ago, scientists published papers on the existence of blood-sucking creatures after years of valuable research, and now governments around the world have set out to burn the inhuman species out before they can cause any more damage. Vampirism though is older than humanity itself and unless law enforcement has evidence of homicide, vampires have the right to exist amongst humans. 
They are excellent at hiding their true nature, that much is true. The lore that has been passed down since the beginning of time is only partly true. They know how to adapt and rise from the ashes like elegant phoenixes. The misconceptions surrounding their existence stem from fiction, horror, and fear, but they persist. 
And a rule has been established in society ever since the truth was revealed: don’t talk about vampires! 
Don’t talk about them unless it’s in a fictional context. Don’t put your research out there. Don’t fraternize with them. Don’t risk becoming prey. Don’t be fascinated by them, and God forbid, don’t you dare write articles about them for the public records. If you want to know about vampires, you have to dig, and you have to do so quietly or society will deem you crazy and a freak. 
The worst thing to be is not a flying android or a super soldier with a shield; the worst thing you can be, in this day and age, is a vampire. 
You were a curious child who turned into an even more curious adult. At times even a bitter one because she couldn’t get the answers she yearned for and had to do it herself. So, of course, the We Don’t Talk About Vampires rule came across as rather absurd, learning about it back when you were merely a teen. 
You started researching, and you found out more than you thought you would—more than you thought you could. You wanted to cover the issue in the Bulletin back when you still worked there, but since humans were raised to fear the very mention of vampires in the real world, no longer romanticizing the concept but rather running from it, the truth shall remain hidden. Again, that seemed absurd, but you had to accept it to get ahead. 
You kept researching to the point you convinced yourself you could be one of them if you tried. You felt like you understood them, but nothing could ever fully answer all of your questions to the point it felt truthful. Honest. Real. 
Growing up, everyone told you dead things aren’t supposed to walk. They aren’t supposed to breathe and exist among the living. They are cruel, and vampires are killers that leave trails of bodies the government is hiding from us. Greediness exceeds common sense. The human mind tends to get sick and twisted, and those who don’t fit in hardly ever stand a chance.
Hell’s Kitchen is particularly quiet on the issue. Rumor has it that the vigilante chasing criminals at night and leaving the worst of them dry at the shore of the Hudson while, at the same time, surrendering those he deems worthy of rehabilitation to the authorities, is one of those vampires. 
They call him Daredevil; the savior of innocents and the downfall of the vile. Only a handful of people know who he is. The truth is caught in a spider web of lies, unable to come out unless someone were to tell his story for the world to hear. 
That Monday in June when you open the mysterious envelope on your desk, everything changes. 
He addressed you personally. Your name resembles a masterpiece, the letters swirling at the edges. 
You don’t know me, but I know you.
It’s strange to read your name out of the mouth of a stranger.
I must admit, Miss, I’m a big fan of your writing. And I’m not talking about the lifestyle and beauty column Mr. Doherty of the ‘Silver Lining’ has confined you to.
No, I am a big fan of the work you used to do for the New York Bulletin. I remember your name headlining many articles on crime here in Hell’s Kitchen—a column my late friend Ben Urich used to call his home.  
It’s a shame that the paper was shut down. I tried to prevent it, but the disappearance of half of humanity and Wilson Fisk’s irreparable damage to the city’s foundation tied my hands. 
The token female journalist reporting on unsolicited beauty advice and lifestyle choices no one is going to follow in the days of social media and fake marketing. It must be frustrating, right? Not having a story to tell. Not getting recognized for your impeccable talent. The Bulletin gave you a platform, but Mr. Doherty and his goons took that away from you.
What I’m asking myself is, are you satisfied? You were probably imagining a different future for yourself. A woman of your caliber must want to be more than a mere object used to make a bottomless magazine look better on the market. 
Excuse my overstepping. I read one of your essays on the magical and the mythic—lore versus reality—the other day, and it inspired me. My life has been taking quite a few turns lately, so I required some new… let’s call it insight. 
You don’t know me, but I am one of those creatures you are fascinated by. I’m the kind of creature people have been telling you not to write about because the weak minds of the public would not receive it well. The Catholics, the church, the fragile and fearful human beings that can’t imagine anything in fiction being real and want to remain the superior species—trust me, I know what it feels like to be backed into a corner. To be abandoned. To be underestimated. Not quite like you, I admit, but I have a few years of experience in and with this world to show for myself. 
I imagine you’re tired of your position. I imagine you’re dissatisfied with human idiocy. You crave answers to your questions. Questions you have been asking yourself ever since college failed to answer them. My kind is being censored—partly for good reason—but that doesn’t sit right with you, does it? To live life in a monotone line with no clear way out of this boring rhythm you have had to fall into? 
I can offer you a different path. A story. Answers to your questions. And the unfiltered truth of a 242-year-old man. 
You are going to find a card with my address attached to this letter. I can assure you, sweetheart, we both want the same thing. I will wash your hands if you wash mine. Think about it, and come find me when you have made your decision. Preferably after the sun has set. 
Yours sincerely,
M.
The paper crumbles in your hands, but only at the corners. Your eyes are glued to the lost drops of ink, the blue blood of an old fountain pen caving under too much pressure. 
He chose his words carefully. Every paragraph circles around your head. You breathe in, and it suddenly feels as though the whiff of the unknown is an inhalable drug, twisting your brain inside out. 
The pull threatens to submerge you in a stormy ocean. You’re flailing your arms around helplessly, but there is nothing for you to hold onto. All buoys have drifted into oblivion, leaving a sea of utter emptiness behind, and in the midst of it, there you are, drowning.
In a moment of clarity, you fold the letter back down on the desk. It lands with a thud, and you look around frantically, checking if anyone is watching you. They aren’t. 
M. That’s all he’s giving you. And the fact he is over two hundred years old proves the rumors to be true. He’s standing by it, but only to you. He wants to reveal himself to you, show you his true face for a story, but he’s a vampire. 
You’re alone. You can wash his hands, but is just showing up enough for him? You don’t even know him. 
You’re in trouble. This time though, you didn’t even do anything. You did your job, and he caught an interest in you. How does that work? 
Your heart skips another beat. It should not, but it does. The danger is exciting. It shouldn't be exciting. You hate what your body is doing, but how can you make it stop? You can’t. You can’t do anything but take it.
This stranger has got you in a chokehold, but in his hands, you might as well surrender to your certain demise. You don’t consider vampires inherently evil, but there is a reason people warn you not to walk alone at night in Hell’s Kitchen. He’s dangerous, no matter his nature, and he is not supposed to lure you in the way he does.
But you’re a curious kitten, and he is offering you the holy grail of answers to questions you have been grappling with for years. He hit the nail right on the head. And it doesn’t even scare you how well he knows you. 
This is a gold mine. Realistically speaking, telling a vampire’s story could make or break your career as a journalist. If you do it for the magazine, you’re done before you can even bring your words to print, but if you do it individually and you do it well, people will certainly eat it up. The question is just, are you going to play your entire life safe, conforming to your boss’s view of you until you get the freedom you crave, or are you going to take the risk and fly? 
The answer is as clear as day, but it takes you a moment to process. It’s as though someone is in your head, steering you in the direction of whoever this M is. Daredevil. This vampire who wants you to interview him, and for what? That’s still an open question you don’t have the answer to. But you do know what to do.
You scramble for your laptop, your notepad, and the letter in the envelope. The clock strikes four. You have another two hours on the clock, but you can’t be bothered to stay. 
Upon hearing the sound of your shoes hurriedly scraping against the linoleum floors, one of your colleagues turns in her chair. “Where are you going?” she asks.
“I, uh, have somewhere to be,” you tell her as you brush past her.
“What, now?”
“Yeah. I forgot I had an appointment.”
“What about Mr. Doherty?”
You stop on your way out, looking back over your shoulder. “If everything works out,” you say, glancing through the window to his office at the other end of the hall, “He’ll have my letter of resignation by the end of the week.”
She gasps softly. “You’re quitting?” her voice is barely above a whisper.
Almost sinisterly, you chuckle. “That’s the plan, yeah.”
“But—”
“Tell your daughter Happy Birthday from me. I gotta go.”
Your steps echo for minutes still, but you are long gone with the wind.
Silver linings are considered an advantage that comes from an unpleasant situation. The name has proven to be entirely unfit for the magazine that replaced a big piece of Hell’s Kitchen’s history. The Bulletin had cultural value as much as it was laden with decades of the city’s stories told to the average person. 
Wilson Fisk was the dynamite that sent New York alight. The Bulletin’s destruction was mere collateral damage in the fight to get the city back on track. You have had so many reasons to leave presented to you, yet you never took them. If you had, maybe you wouldn’t be here, making bad decisions on what started as just another Monday in June. 
The fact is though, you didn’t leave, and you are here now. Facts are what matter. They count. Your hypothetical past, present, and future have no place in this reality because you can’t travel back or forward in time. Vampires may exist, and the Avengers time-traveled to save the world, but things aren’t quite as easy once you look at the bigger picture. You are not a superhero, you’re just a journalist chasing the kind of story that will finally make her voice be heard. 
You know that Ben Urich, at least, would be proud of you.
His address weighs heavy on the small card you pulled out of the envelope earlier that evening. You passed it on to the cab driver, and he began to navigate the dark streets of Hell’s Kitchen. The luxury condominiums in this part of the city can be counted on one hand. You know exactly when you’re there. 
The sun has once again set over New York City. You’re wide awake, not quite sure though if you’re ready to face what you are walking blindly into. Even your driver refuses to take you past a certain point, and that is how you know that you’re not dreaming. This is real, and it’s supposed to be terrifying. 
How come you’re not scared then?
You slip twenty dollars to the cab driver, then climb out of the backseat. The salty air from the Hudson River a few blocks down wafts around your sensitive nose. In the distance, you can hear waves crashing into the docks as the wind picks up in speed. The boats must be moving wildly by now, swaying from side to side and possibly even making the fish in the depths of the water seasick. You would be if you were them. 
With every step, you grow closer to your target. On second thought, maybe you should have brought more than just a pathetic bottle of pepper spray and your precious laptop. You could have brought your grandfather’s cassette recorder, at least that would leave a mark if you hit someone over the head with it. 
Do vampires get concussions? That is another question you can add to the seemingly endless list in your mind. It’s a confusing place as of late, and the weird sense that someone is playing with the controls won’t leave you alone. Either you are overthinking, or you are worse off than you originally thought. 
The apartment complex the card directs you to stretches high above you. You look up, seeing not a single light on. That’s odd, you think, but then again, you are meeting with the city’s most notorious man. If he is who everyone says he is, and if the rumors are even true, that is. 
As you are about to approach the entrance, your fingertips start to burn. A gasp escapes past your lips. Staring down, the cubical piece of paper goes up in flames. You are mere feet from the door, nowhere near close to an open source of fire, and the card starts to burn like a wildfire. 
You pull back, your heart hammering against your ribcage. The ashes fall to the ground, but before they can hit the asphalt, they vanish.
“What the–” before you can finish, the doors before you swing open toward the inside. The lights turn on. Someone even has called the elevator for you. 
Another step forward, and a voice stops you. “Fourth floor, down the hallway, first door to your right,” the voice says through the speaker. Only then do you notice the lack of a doorbell. 
Everything in you is screaming for you to run, but you are rooted in the spot. He dragged you here with a mere letter, and you were more than ready to jump. Desperation was the only thing that drove you here. Your brain seems incapable of rational thought.
What if that is what he wanted all along? To get you complicit by playing on what you so desperately need, which is a story and a way out of this boring everyday life that is threatening to slowly kill you.
He’s like a siren, luring you into his deadly trap, but even knowing all of this, you still can’t find it in yourself to run. 
The second you enter the building, the door shuts behind you, and your only way out is officially locked. You made the decision; you have dug your own grave, possibly quite literally, and now you have to lie in it. It’s better to die chasing a good story than dying at a desk in an office that doesn’t respect you.
You are a disgrace, you can hear your father’s voice in the back of your mind. He always warned you not to be too reckless or your bad decisions will eventually catch up with you. He always taught you not to trust strangers, and to stay the hell away from those who disgrace God, but you have never cared much about being a good girl. 
Your thoughts are as morbid as your obsession with the walking undead. It is time you embrace what people are already saying about you.
The elevator ride feels like an eternity. It goes up and up and up until it finally stops on the fourth floor. The walls smell like nothing but a faint hint of bleach. It’s clean, parquette not carpet, and the walls are kept in a shade resembling a mixture between crimson and maroon, and it is blending into a sort of marble.
The metal doors slide open. Again, you hesitate. A sweet whisper echoes in your ear, dragging you toward the edge. You breach the border between the elevator and the hallway that waits behind it. The voice is distant, and it doesn’t sound human—it reminds you of a siren’s song, calling for you. He is calling for you, and a fog settles over your mind. You’re not in control anymore, he is. 
You imagine him to be an old man, possibly middle-aged. Vampires stop aging when they’re turned. Their mind doesn’t. You’ve read the research plenty. They are wise beings, more intelligent than human beings could ever fathom. That makes them dangerous. 
Their venom rivals the intoxicating feeling of heroin, you’ve heard, and it heightens your senses to the point all you can feel is the one who bit you. Research suggests it’s a million times stronger than an orgasm, for both the vampire and the human being. 
Part of you has always wanted to try it. Part of you wants to know what it feels like to be sucked dry. You want to know what it feels like to be carried into a new dimension by someone who knows how to play the human body like a fucking piano, eliciting the sweetest melody through your very essence and the symphony of your moans.  
This M—Daredevil—is inherently dangerous. He’s as mysterious as they come; a man in a mask lurking in the dark corners of Hell’s Kitchen every night, turning the fight for justice into his hunting ground. 
It’s as though he curled his fingers, and you followed. 
You walk the dark hallway down to the door on the right. Paintings litter the walls. Masterpieces, blotches of white, red, and color. You recognize the red marble as a decorative theme on the wallpaper. Tracing your fingers over it, the rough drywall scratches at your skin. 
You reach out a shaky hand toward the golden knob. Before you can turn it though, the door already flings open. It must be witchcraft. 
Red appears to be his favorite color. At least judging from the hallway, that is true. When you step into the room with a pounding heart and blood pooling in your cheeks though, the inside of the room is a lot more… human. You wouldn’t have guessed it from the gloominess surrounding you on your way there.
A leather couch and armchairs stand in the middle, facing toward the window front. Colored windows, as you have gathered from the rumors. They are see-through now though, showing the city skyline and the moon up high. The chandelier on the ceiling is the only piece of furniture you would consider old. Browns meet hues of blue and dark green, a forest at midnight, and you suck in a sharp breath. The apartment is beautiful. 
You look to your left and see a bookshelf stretching the length of the wall. You can’t help but run your hand over the backs. You would have expected original editions from the 18th or 19th century, but when your fingers trace over the bindings, you are met with the bulging of Braille underneath the elegant golden writing of the titles. None of them seem to have collected dust. It surprises you to only find a mere handful of classics that haven’t been transcribed in Braille and a realization you did not expect starts to crawl its way forward.
“I stole that one from a library in Paris.”
Your racing heart stops beating. The book you’ve been holding falls to the ground, its worn-out leather cracking further around the spine. The thud is deafening. You gasp, turning around. Your shoulders fly up as the tension ripples through every last muscle in your bone. Your bones ache just from how stiff you’re standing, but you can’t move.
The man before you moves as quietly as a mouse. You didn’t hear him coming. The moonlight reflects off his dark brown hair, making it appear almost ginger. He’s wearing a simple suit without a tie, and the white of his shirt is as pristine and clean as the cut of his beard. You can see chest hair poking out from underneath the two open buttons, as dark as the locks on his head. His jawline is irresistibly sharp, leading up to a pair of plump lips he is wrapping around the brim of a crystal glass filled with rum.
Your heart remains frozen. Not a single drop of blood pumps through your veins, yet your cheeks burn brighter than a bonfire on a pitch-black night. 
But his flawless appearance is not what catches your attention the most. Looking up into his eyes, wanting to know whether they are as red as those set into the devil’s mask, you find nothing but your terrified reflection staring back at you. It’s as blurry as the picture of your face in a still ocean’s water, your wide eyes staring back at yourself. 
The red glasses are all you can see. Round with a black rim. Silver would have looked better on him, or maybe even gold. The black reminds you of an endless pit, a sinister embrace of vampire stereotypes, but you can’t look away from the maroon that won’t allow you even a glimpse into his eyes. They are shielding him from the world, and his eyes from curious, stupid humans like you.
He nods toward the ground. “You gonna pick that up?” he asks. His voice reminds you of rumbling gravel. 
He looks like a man. He talks like a man. If you didn’t know better, you would say he is human. There seems to be blood in his cheeks and air in his lungs. 
You have to pull yourself together. Clearing your throat, you bend down and pick the book back up.
“Thank you,” he utters your name. “It’s been a while since I’ve received visitors that don’t work for me.”
You put the book back on the shelf. Your lips are sewn shut; you can’t find the words. Every time you open your mouth like a fish on dry land, you close it again, and it is embarrassing to be standing in front of him with your guard down. 
“Welcome to my home,” he says. You wish you could see his eyes to know if he’s mocking you. “Do you want a drink, or do you need another minute to process?”
He is mocking you. His tone is gentle, as is his voice, but he smirks like a smug motherfucker, and your anger boils to a tipping point. The candle is about to burn out. 
“I–” you stammer. Internally, you curse yourself for being such a fool. 
“Another minute it is then.”
You don’t need a minute though. “You’re blind,” you blurt out. 
The beautiful—deadly—stranger nods. “Yeah.“
“How?”
“Accident when I was a kid.”
“But you’re…” you leave the missing part of that sentence hanging in the air like a noose. 
“Say it,” he murmurs. You want to say it sounds like a growl, but you’re not sure. He isn’t asserting dominance or trying to force you into submission by scaring you away, but he is toying with you regardless. 
You take a deep breath. The word, the truth, numbers your tongue and your lips with its weight. “A vampire,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, matching his. 
His smirk broadens. He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek for a moment, then releases it as it darts out to wet his bottom lip. “I’m a blind vampire, yes,” he answers. “We’re rare, but we do exist.”
Blind vampires. In all of your years of fascination, that has never crossed your mind. You used to believe that they had healing abilities that far exceeded your own. You were wrong. He lost his eyesight before he got turned into a vampire. He lived as a blind human being and didn’t regain his most crucial sense when he died. 
He came back to life, but he died. It is surreal to stand across from him. He’s not just letters on a piece of paper, he is very much real. And he’s blind. 
“Oh, my God,” you curse.
That elicits a soft chuckle from him. “I was starting to think you wouldn’t come,” he says. 
“I was considering not to.” 
He sees right through you with those empty glasses. “That’s a lie.”
“How would you know?” you counter. 
“I can hear your heartbeat. The blood pumping in your veins…” His head tilts ever so slightly in your direction. You take a step back. It’s an instinct. “Your pulse picks up when you lie, or when you’re nervous, or both,” he states. “When you first saw me, your heart skipped a beat. It did again when you lied to me.”
Your eyes trail down to his thick thighs perfectly fitted in his tailored trousers. His thick digits pat the rhythm with his fingers on the fabric. Thud-thudthudthud-thud. You place a hand on your chest. He wasn’t wrong; your heart is racing. 
His smirk turns into a smile, but only briefly again. It’s a glimpse of humanity he doesn’t want you to see. “I like that sound,” he says. “Has anyone ever told you that you smell good? Sweet, sour, and a little salty. Natural. You don’t use a lot of artificial perfume, but you like cherry chapstick.”
You swallow, taking a whiff of your arm. Besides your deodorant masking the scent of your nervous sweat, you smell nothing. How good must his nose be? His hearing? His sense of taste? 
“Right now, sweat is dripping down your back, and your muscles are tense enough to strain against your bones every time you breathe. Your heart just skipped a beat again. You find it weird,” he muses. “I can’t turn it off, but I get it must be strange for you.” 
“You–” The blood has collected in your head, pushing the temperature in the room to an all-time high. “Get out of my body!” you snap. 
He laughs. “That’s a sentence I never thought I’d hear.”
“And I never thought you would ask for an audience with me, but here we are.”
“Here you are.” 
You want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face. He looks so smug, standing there with his drink, wearing a suit too fancy for his own home. He’s fully in his element. It’s scary how alluring he is, too. You don’t want to think that way, but as soon as your eyes gaze upon him again, your chest contracts, and you forget how to breathe. 
He’s a wolf, and you’re a lonely little sheep that doesn’t know any better. That lonely little sheep just wants to be a part of something bigger, even if that means surrendering herself to the big bad wolf. He wants a taste of her, and the sheep would give him that in a heartbeat if he just asked. 
You blink. There is a voice in your head, and it isn’t your own. Far from it. You don’t want to be associated with this stranger. She thinks she knows you. She thinks she knows what you want—the sheep in the eyes of her natural enemy. This voice is the most irrational you could be, and you need to stop letting her win.
And yet you—not just the voice of the lonely sheep you appear to be—would follow this man anywhere, even to hell if he asked you to. 
Your eyes drill knives into his skull, but they are also full of curiosity. Can he hear your thoughts? Your heart beats in your throat. You can taste it on your tongue. If you bit your lip, you would bleed, and he would probably fall into a frenzy. Still, your teeth dig into your bottom lip. What if he can hear your thoughts—hear how fucking needy you are? You’re pathetic. What he must think of you, standing across from him, smaller than human life itself. 
You want to read him, but he is far from an open book. He’s not Braille you can run your fingers over, and even if he was, you don’t know how to read it. He’s an enigma. His face is set in stone; an iron mask you can’t penetrate. 
His chest heaves with another chuckle. He sets the crystal glass down on the coffee table, taking a step forward. “No, I can’t read your mind,” he says. 
You flinch. “What?”
“Your breathing pattern. The way you look at me. I can sense that you’re thinking about something.” He adjusts his glasses. “It’s just… Most humans ask me if I can read their minds, you know. I can’t. Some vampires can, but my senses are the only heightened ability I have.” This time, when he chuckles, a hint of bitterness dances in his voice. 
“At least you’re not in my head then,” you say. 
“No.”
“Good.”
A pregnant pause follows. You clutch your bag to your chest, your fingers digging into the frame of your hidden laptop. 
“Can I offer you a drink?” he asks, pointing to his empty glass.
You wave him off. That’s the last thing on your mind. “No, thank you.”
Sometimes at night, you fantasize about diving into the abyss of darkness. It looks and sounds a terrifying lot like him. You want to know him. You need to know him. When it comes to him and this—whatever this is—the lines between want and need are blurring into an unidentifiable mess. It’s an ocean of emotions with no land in sight. A total eclipse of the heart, if you will. You’re losing your mind.
“What you can do–” You straighten your shoulder, hoping it will add height to your beaten confidence. “You can tell me your name. Sir,” you say. 
He nods. “I suppose it would only be fair, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, it would.”
“Matthew. My name’s Matthew.” The softness of his features as his lips move to the rhythm of his words takes you back anew. His eyebrows raise slightly, and you catch a glimpse of a pair of beautiful, unfocused hazel eyes that steal your breath away. 
Matthew. It is a name that easily rolls off the tongue. It suits him.
You repeat his name aloud. “That’s an odd name for a 200-something-year-old man,” you point out. 
Matthew scoffs. “My parents were both Catholic.”
“I suppose you’re not?”
You hit a sore spot. His head dips, fingers running over his nails and tongue tracing his teeth. “Not anymore,” he says.
God died for him a long time ago, and all churches burned down.
Your grip on your bag loosens. “Then why Daredevil?” you ask. 
His lips part. “I, uh, have the Bulletin to thank for that one. After centuries of existing in this world, and being despised for no matter what I do, I’ve decided to embrace it. I am Daredevil, not even God can stop that now.”
Matt grabs his glass, turning away from you. He doesn’t use a cane to navigate from the couch to the mini bar on the other end of the room. You carefully follow his movements. One of his hands remains at his side, snapping his fingers as he navigates the familiar terrain of his home. 
He uncaps a half-empty bottle of Whiskey to pour himself another glass. 
“You know, Matthew,” you prompt, daring to step forward an inch, “as big as your reputation is in this part of the city, Silver Lining is not the kind of magazine that would cover your story.”
“You still came,” he says. 
“I could lose my job if anyone knew I came here.”
“And yet you’re here and not where you should be.” He turns his head over his shoulder. “You wouldn’t risk losing your job if it wasn’t important to you, would you?”
You stammer, “I–” He’s got you. You’re a fish with a hook in her mouth. 
“If Silver Lining Magazine won’t cover my story, why are you here?” Matt turns back to you, leaning back against the shiny Mahagoni of his minibar. It offers a beautiful contrast to his strong physique and the slight paleness of his skin. “Could it be because you’re fascinated by the mythic?” he asks, teasing. “By werewolves and witches and vampires?”
It’s your turn to scoff. “I won’t confirm or deny. My boss wouldn’t let me write a vampire vigilante exposé even if I begged him to.”
“And that’s why Mr. Doherty doesn’t deserve you.” Your body visibly recoils when he pushes forward, moving just an inch toward you. “Your curiosity is a virtue,” he purrs. The moonlight sets your reflection in his glasses alight. 
“Is that why you lured me here?” you ask him. “Because my curiosity is a virtue and you consider yourself better than the people in my life?”
“I didn’t lure you here, and I think you know that. That’s not what this is.” The distance between you starts to shrink, backing you into a corner. “I believe you came here because the thought of interviewing a vampire and sharing your findings with the world on your account excites you,” he says. “You want to be heard. You want to be taken seriously as a journalist, and you want to make people happy.”
The only way for you to come out of this with your pride and dignity still intact is to put up walls before the already existent labyrinth of walls keeping your heart guarded and your soul safe. “Again,” you ask, “why me?”
“Why not you? As I stated in my letter, I’m a fan of your work.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, about that. How did you write that if you’re blind?”
“I didn’t, my secretary did.”
“Of course.” Of course, he has a secretary. “I… I just don’t get it,” you say. “You’ve been hiding for so long–” 
Matt cuts you off with an urgency you didn’t expect, “Things have changed. Circumstances…” he trails off. 
“Wouldn’t it be a suicide mission?” 
His answer is silence. You let out an exasperated sigh. “If you want me to interview you, you have to be honest with me.”
“I’m not on the record yet.”
“Right. Maybe you can answer this though—off the record, of course—how can you be certain I didn’t call the cops or the FBI before I came here?”
His eyes crinkle. “I’m not stupid, sweetheart,” he says. 
He’s amused. You’re amusing him. 
“Don’t call me that,” you growl. 
He’s spreading you open, holding up a mirror for you to look into. It’s your miserable self in all its glory, and he knows you better than you know yourself. 
You ignore the sharp pain in your left ribcage as you pull the arrow out of your heart. “Unless someone holds up a sign that they are pro-vampirism, how would you even know I’d listen to you and not just refer you to the Journal of Psychiatry?” 
“Are you telling me you don’t believe in vampires?” Matt quips.
“That’s not… Answer my question!”
The sound of your heartbeat must sound almost like the rapid firing of a machine gun, that’s how fast your pulse is racing. Your veins threaten to burst with the excess blood. It’s a heat like no other. You’re a witch at the stake, and Matt is holding the torch to your gasoline-doused body. 
He clears his throat. Your face falls at the words that tumble out of his parted lips, and the rapid firing turns into a deafening silence and a monotone line on a heart monitor. 
“After what I’ve learned from reading Dr. Rice’s research on the phenomena of vampirism, I can confidently say this species is no different than an animal like the great white shark or the Homo sapiens sapiens—our kind,” he recites. “Vampires are a medium of fiction and propaganda to induce fear, but they are also a widely misunderstood species that is being silenced rather than heard. Our species, the human species, likes to consider themselves superior, even when we’re in a position of being someone’s natural food source. Dr. Rice’s research is based on a comprehensible set of facts, and isn’t that what we have been relying on ever since the beginning? Our psychology makes it possible for us to change the narrative in our favor, and more often than not, we ignore the very facts deemed by humans as an intellectual importance to spread the message of an entirely different agenda. Dr. Rice’s research only proves that egotism and humans themselves will be humankind's certain downfall.”
“My investigative journalism essay,” you breathe out. 
“Published by Columbia University.” 
Your heart restarts with a rush of adrenaline. “How… how do you know all of this?”
“I may be blind,” Matt says, “but I know how to read between the lines.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
The alcohol in his drink seems to have little effect on him. “I know you have questions, and I’m willing to answer them if you promise to publish a detailed report somewhere other than Silver Lining Magazine.”
You look down at your bag, then back at him. “Ben Urich could have told your story in a way that would’ve made people listen,” you murmur. “I don’t have an impressive career like him.”
“Yeah,” he smiles, “but you could have easily written ‘Attack on NYC’. Ben was a good man, an even better journalist, but he could not have written your college essay. And he could never have been you.” 
Your name rolls off his tongue—not a pretentious nickname that makes you want to vomit but your name, and it flicks a switch within you. 
You glance around the spacious living, pulling your laptop out of its confines, and you bridge the distance between you, finally. You notice he smells of sandalwood cologne and scentless soap. “Okay,” you cave. “Where do you want me to set up?”
Session 1.
The spacebar clicks underneath the tip of your index finger. The white of your screen fills with a series of red sequences as the microphone takes in every little sound around you. Except for the two of you and the fading footsteps of one of Matthew’s assistants though, the world has fallen silent in the dead of the night. He’s sitting across from you, legs crossed, head tilted; your life is about to change.
“So, Mister Murdock,” you begin, “tell me. How long have you been dead?” 
His mouth opens in a wide grin. “242 years,” he answers. 
“And what happened the year you died?”
“Well, it was 1782. I was a good few years out of law school. I was a good lawyer, but I wasn’t successful. That year, I met a beautiful woman at a banquet. I wasn’t rich—trust me, I was beyond penniless—but she had been adopted into a wealthy family, and that made her one of the richest women in the room. Everyone wanted her, but when I sensed her across the hall, she only had eyes for me. And she was the first woman to not see me just because I was blind.” He chuckles sadly. “I thought she was the woman of my dreams, the love of my life, but a few weeks later, after letting her into my life, I realized that she didn’t look at me that night because she was interested. She was hunting me. El— Miss Elektra Natchios…”
The year 1782 becomes apparent before your inner eye. As he tells you about the night he met her, you can see the dark-haired beauty making her way across the ballroom. Red lips and a gown to die for. Her dark eyes were full of mischief, but the passion in them could have knocked a grown man off of his feet. And that is just what she did to poor Matthew. 
“I was going to marry her,” he tells you.
He went to church regularly. His knees were bloody from praying, his senses already heightened before he died. God’s soldier, that is how he puts it. He was told that the accident that left him blind happened for a reason, and he had to fight a war that went beyond the country’s fight for independence. 
That summer, Elektra drained him. He didn’t know what she was. She fooled him. He was obsessed with her. Her dark eyes he couldn’t see lured her in, and it was the venom in her blood that became his downfall after she dug her teeth into him.
Matt tried to beg his priest for forgiveness, but he didn’t even make it past the marble stairs before the doors locked. He knelt in a pool of blood—both his and that of the first human he ever sucked dry to survive as a newborn vampire—offering an eternal sacrifice to Catholicism, but God abandoned him on his doorstep. 
The church walls would have been set on fire if he had touched them from the inside. 
You look up from your notepad to find him now standing at the window. He’s not looking out, of course, but he seems so deep in thought, the memories that aren’t your own but his start to dissipate, and you’re brought back to the here and now.
Matt poured his heart out to you. You expected answers, but not this kind, and certainly not of this magnitude. You see him in an entirely different light. He’s vulnerable, fragile, and human. He has endured trauma that killed him, but he couldn’t die because the woman he loved made him immortal. It’s a bigger curse than growing up with the belief that an accident made you God’s soldier. 
He lost everything. For centuries, he has had to live with that. It’s killing you, feeling his pain, the pure agony that radiates off him. 
Your voice is quiet when you ask him, “What was it like?” You don’t have to say it out loud for him to know what you are referencing.
Matt chuckles, the sound a mere breath in the atmosphere. “Like she took my soul from my body, setting fire to my belief system and already heightened senses,” he says. 
You swallow. “That sounds… overstimulating.”
“It was. Is. My heart stopped, but when that happened, something else awoke inside me. The hunger… the hunger was the worst part. It’s insatiable. One hour passes, and you feel like you’ve been starving for weeks.”
“Like you’ve been possessed by a demon?”
“Like I am the demon.”
“But you’re not.” You should stop the recording. You’re not on track; you’re incorporating your feelings into Matt’s story, but you can’t help it. The words tumble out of your mouth without a second thought, a train that cannot be stopped. 
He raises his eyebrows, you can see it in his reflection in the windows. “Are you religious?” he asks.
You shake your head. “This isn’t about me.”
“Are you?”
The veins on the back of his hands bulge as he balls them to fists at his sides. Your throat is a desert, and your heartbeat resembles a storm that burns right through it, sending the sand flying in all directions of the horizon.
You adjust in your seat, crossing one leg over the other. He takes a whiff. He’s smelling you, and that doesn’t help the speed of your pulse to calm down. 
Tapping your pen on your notepad, you watch the red sequences fill the white space of the recording program. It moves with the sound of your voice when you finally dare to answer. “It’s a complicated question because there is a difference between believing in God and believing in the church,” you say.
“Do you believe in God then?” Matt asks. It’s as though he’s trying not to seethe at the mere mention of someone he used to worship. You make a note of that.
“There is so much bad in this world. So much cruelty. I can’t…” You take a deep breath. “I don’t know how to believe in a God that would let the things humans do to each other happen. If God existed—if he was as merciful as Christians like to claim, he wouldn’t let this happen. And I’m so sick and tired of people using their faith, and their beliefs in God and the church as justification to be disrespectful. I don’t understand it. How can anyone? Why is someone who has to drink blood to stay alive—someone who didn’t even choose this life—worth less and the devil’s breed when humans do worse things to each other? Why would God allow us to start wars that kill innocent people? Children? It’s just not fair that we treat ourselves and others as though we are already in hell, and we’re just supposed to accept that God doesn’t care—” You stop yourself, the tears burning behind your eyes. 
Matt turns back around. You can’t look away. “When I was still human,” he murmurs, “I used to believe everything that happened to me was God’s will. The accident, God’s will. Me going blind, God’s will. I went to confession, prayed until my knees were bloody and bruised. I tried convincing myself that every scream I heard from down the block, every person who lost their life or their innocence was my responsibility. God made me this way for a reason, right?” The scoff is as bitter as the liquor in his glass. “I fell apart, you know. I was a kid, so I didn’t understand. I didn’t understand what was happening to me,” he tells you. 
You hold your breath. The glasses slip from his eyes as he takes them off with shaky fingers. You are met with the most beautiful pair of hazel eyes. Emotions dance a heated tango in a tornado. If you look closer, the green specks bring life to his eyes. It’s human nature in the purest sense of the word. 
Your reflection stands in his irises, his unmoving pupils, and the tears glisten in his eyes. They’re as red as blood, watered-down crimson essence. You want to reach out and stroke his cheek, but that would be crossing a very big line that you can’t bring yourself up to touch. 
“I studied law because I thought it would change something,” he continues. You listen. It’s the only thing you can do—listen. “It wasn’t enough. Nothing I ever did felt like it was enough. I lost my father. Jack. I didn’t know my mother until it was too late. Maggie. I had no one. No money, no prospects, just me and those voices in my head, telling me I was supposed to be God’s soldier.”
“You’re not,” you cut in. 
He shakes his head. “I prayed; I crawled up the stairs of the church, and I spent hours repenting for my sins. I bled myself dry for Him. I sacrificed myself. I sacrificed my youth, my heart, and my soul, and I got nothing back. I begged for help until my voice was sore, but nothing… God, nothing was ever good enough. Until Elektra came around,” he says. 
“She changed everything for you. It makes sense. She turned you into a vampire, but she also loved you.”
“She did love me, in her own twisted way.”
“It’s what you deserved,” you say.
He isn’t yours, but the pang you feel in your chest is treacherous. Your heart cracks like a porcelain vase, jealousy creeping in like a parasite of toxic waste.
In response, Matt only chuckles bitterly. “She made me believe again, then took my soul and crushed it in her hand.” The correction makes your shoulders slump. “Instead of feeling like my world ended though, I felt at peace when she sucked the blood out of my veins and fed me her venom,” he says. “It’s sick, I know. I was aware I died that night, that she turned me into a devil who could only survive if he drank the blood of others. The Catholic in me struggled to accept it, but I had no choice but to embrace what she made me.”
“And where is she now?” you ask.
“Gone.” The light in his eyes has fully disappeared now. “I stayed with her for a while until she died in my arms. She showed me what love is, and she showed me heartbreak. She made me hungry for blood, awakening the devil I’ve been trying to tame. She taught me how to feed, how to hunt, and how to chase. But she also cursed me,” he says. “I only exist for myself now. I only bleed for myself. No God, no church, and no more religion. I’m not Jesus, I’m Judas, and I retired the cross the day I was crucified.”
You have run out of questions to ask. Too overwhelming is the sight of his walls crumbling down, this stranger you now know better than any living being seems to. You no longer see money in this, or a story to chase, you only see Matthew, and the halo above his head he still believes is a pair of horns. The world broke him. His faith in God broke him. It crushed him, and he lost everything. How broken he must be. 
“Not such a pretty story when I say it out loud, huh?” He scoffs.
The spacebar clicks again. The recording comes to a sudden halt. One hour and fifty-eight minutes, the first session of your interview with the vampire. You need to put a halt to it now because what you are about to say or do as you reach your hand out to brush his cold, dead skin is not something that should be found on a record. And you won’t ever tell.
Matt pulls away when your warm fingertips brush his. You’re standing across from him now, so close he can smell, hear, and feel all of you at once.
Your touch is the holy water that burns his skin, but the fire sustains him and shoots straight to his core the same way the blood rushes to yours.
“It’s not a pretty story, no,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper, “but it did tell me what I already knew.”
“And what’s that?” he asks.
“That you’re not evil. You’re not the Devil. You’re misunderstood. You’ve been beaten; you’ve been abandoned, hurt, and broken. That doesn’t make you a monster. Trying to make this city a better place does not make you a monster.”
“If you only knew the things I’ve done…”
“I know the rumors suggest that you were the one who fought Wilson Fisk and got this city back where it needed to be. You’ve saved countless women from the worst of fates. You are the reason the innocent people of Hell’s Kitchen feel safe. By picking up that mask, you became a hero, not a villain, and that is the story I want to tell.”
In lightspeed, he has moved you from the window to the other end of the room. Your back hits the wall. 
Matt towers over you in all of his intimidating glory. His eyes spark red, but you hold his unfocused gaze. He has such beautiful eyes. This pull between you is far from human; it’s unhealthy, and it is exactly where he wanted to get you. You’re trapped, pinned underneath him like a deer caught in headlights. 
Exhaling, your breath strokes his cheeks. He closes his eyes, savoring the taste of you. Every particle in the air, he inhales. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. Oh, what you wouldn’t do to suck that tongue into your mouth. 
Your pheromones play his head like a puppeteer pulling the strings of his marionette. He growls. “Do you have any idea how dangerous I am?” 
The moonlight catches his sparkling white teeth. This time though, you come face to face with the sharp edges of his previously concealed fangs. Your jaw drops open. He’s ethereal. 
“I could snap your neck—” Matt places his hand on your neck, “I could make that heart stop beating, take the air from your lungs. I could eat you…” He traces the vein in your throat from your jaw to your collarbone. “I could bite you and suck your blood until you’re empty. I could kill you, sweetheart. My kind is your natural enemy. You shouldn’t be here.”
You shudder. His nose brushes the sensitive skin below your ear. He’s so close you can smell him. On inhale, and his scent consumes your senses. He is all you can feel now. You reach out to hold onto his arms, his muscles tensing under your teeth. He’s big and strong, and those hands have a mind of their own as they begin to wander but never where you need him most. 
You shouldn’t be here, yet you came. He asked you to him, and you complied. Is this your fate now? Chasing after your big bad wolf like the helpless sheep that you are?
Your walls clench around an agonizing emptiness, your swollen clit brushing against your soaked underwear. Whatever he is doing to you, it’s the cruelest form of torture. 
A strangled noise breaks out of the back of his throat, rumbling in his chest. “You have no idea how badly I want to taste you,” he breathes. 
“Do it,” you beg. “Taste me.”
He utters your name again. “Stop.”
“Please.”
Your tone shatters him. When he kisses you, finally, fireworks explode in the universe around you. All the stars seem to finally align. Your heart opens, and it sucks him right into you. Your soul yearns for him. He’s so close yet so far away. 
The moon stands between you, but you cross even that ocean as you push against him, forcing your tongue into his mouth. He takes like heaven and hell; he’s the apple Eve bit into and cursed her for all eternity. But he’s also the snake, the one who compelled you to take this journey of bad decisions and jump right off the cliff’s edge. You melt into him like a broken candle. 
He pulls away. Those fangs are alluring, as sharp as a knife’s tip. You want to know what it would feel like gracing your skin, digging into your as he thrusts his cock into your tight cunt. The thought alone sends your mind into a spiral.
Your lips are swollen, but he has yet to draw blood. Matt looks as though he wouldn’t dare, his eyes darting around in a darkened conflict he feels might cost him more than your dignity. You are begging for it, as is your body, but he’s holding himself back. He’s the one who tied himself to an invisible pillar, keeping his hands locked behind his back. But that is not the Matt you want. 
You lean your head to the side, exposing the length of his neck. All control has slipped from your fingers. It’s in his hands now—you are. He cups your head gently. A mere few inches lie between your fountain and his lips.
You press a kiss to his calloused palm—a desperate and needy kiss, tracing your tongue over the lines that tell his life’s story in a way no interview can retell—and it is then he is forever done for. He’s doomed, and you are the second woman to pull him under the pits of hell. 
Saliva drips from his fangs. You hold your breath. He hisses, a weak admission of surrender; the words die miserably on your tongue when his lips close around your pulse point with all his might, and his teeth drive home. 
You moan aloud. Your fingers tangle in his hair, forcing him deeper as he sucks the dark red essence out of your vein. The sensation is more than you bargained for. It’s a drug that wrecks your system. The synapses in your brain backfire with all their might, and what follows the initial explosion of pleasure shooting white hot through your being is complete and utter silence as this God of a man feeds on you. 
The invisible string between you glows a bright crimson. It slings around you, tying you together like the roots of a tree. It’s an eternal sacrifice. You are giving your all to him, the very core of your existence that is now flowing into his mouth. You swear you can hear his thoughts mingle with yours. Yes, more, please. You taste so good. Your knees buckle, but you remain standing strong. He makes sure you don’t fall. Don’t slip away from me. I need you. 
A tear rolls down your cheek. You could sob. It feels so good—too good to be true. In that moment, you become one. There is no telling where one begins and the other ends. The coil in your stomach tightens, and the only pain you feel is the pleasure threatening to overwhelm you. He’s taking everything as you give him everything, but it is not enough. It has never been enough. 
When your body struggles to catch up with the lack of blood, he pulls away. His fangs drag out of your neck agonizingly slowly. You whimper at the sudden loss.
Matt catches you as you stumble into his arms. “You okay?” He cradles your face, brushing the hair out of your face. Your blood stains his lips. Blinking up at him, the force of your metaphysical connection slaps you awake. 
You cease to exist in all solar systems but his. 
He pokes the tip of his index finger with the sharp edge of one tooth, sliding it over the two holes that are pulsating with the work of your heartbeat.
“I shouldn’t have—” he begins. 
“No,” you say. “You did exactly what you should have.”
“I couldn’t stop.”
“But you did.” You wipe the blood from his mouth. “And I felt you. I only felt you.”
The living room passes by you. Before you know it, your back lands on something much softer than a concrete wall. He’s not a monster, that one, but he surely is an animal. 
You taste your blood on Matt’s luscious lips as he devours your tongue. It tastes of copper and a little bitter, but that is what makes him moan. That sound is the last thing you could ever grow tired of. 
His palm rests on your chest. Your heart pounds against his palm. “You’re so alive,” he says.
You cradle his face in your hands. “And you’re more human than you think.”
If he wanted to pull your heart out and hold it, you would let him in a heartbeat. 
He leans you back. He strips you bare. He kisses down your body like you are a fucking masterpiece for him to explore. That is how he sees you. 
Your head falls back. The kisses wander from your hips to the inside of your thighs. Every kiss brings his breath closer to your center. Matt pulls them apart. He opens you up to him. Your scent clouds his senses, and he groans, but he doesn’t touch. 
His fangs graze your skin. “Mine,” he growls. 
You gasp. He bites into the sensitive flesh. Hard, passionately. Your legs wrap around his head, trapping him there. He sucks, and he sucks, and he drinks, and the wetness pools out of your cunt in an obscene amount. This is foreplay to him. It drives you toward the edge leading to an abyss you are afraid you might never be able to crawl back out of. There is no bottom, it is just a pit, and he’s pushing you closer and closer, and—
Your back arches, but he pulls away before the coil can snap into a million butterflies. He pries your legs away from his head, spreading them further on the mattress, as far apart as they will go. 
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner have been served on a silver platter. He breathes in. The scent of your soaked pussy sticks to the hairs in his nose. It isn’t enough. He breathes in again, your arousal sweeter than fiction. You’re everything and more. He wants to taste that part of you more than anything, suck up the slick that is soaking the sheets—and you didn’t even think that was possible—but he waits because he needs to savor it. He doesn’t want it to be over too soon. neither for him nor for you. 
The blood is still dripping from his tongue and his fangs, and the raw inside of your thigh. He runs his finger through it. The sting runs from the wound to your folds, then back down. Still, he doesn’t touch. He plays with the blood, sucking on his fingers until they’re clean, and then he dives back in for a taste. He doesn’t bite, he kisses and sucks, but he doesn’t push it further. He doesn’t hurt you. 
You’re his saving grace; he has to worship you. Pain only has a place in pleasure. 
“Matthew,” you moan. 
He chuckles, kissing where his fangs left deep indentations. “No one will ever touch you again,” he purrs. “I’ll make sure of that.” 
You try to protest, but the words die on your tongue when he leans in, capturing your clit with his hungry mouth. The wound on your thigh closes. The blood from his lips mixes with your juices, and you cry out at the intensity of it all. 
He eats you with the ferocity of a man starved for weeks. He eats your pussy like he ate your blood, savoring every drop but still feasting for the taste to spread out in his mouth like wildfire. Sour, sweet, and copper. He sucks your sensitive clit into his mouth. His tongue drags through your folds, up and down, and then the tip slides inside, tasting your walls. He grows bolder as your moans accelerate. 
Matt cradles your thighs. He forces your hips back down to the mattress, stronger than the average human man. You have to endure his beard scratching and burning, and the pace he has set.
The orgasm creeps up on you. Before you know it, he has plunged his tongue into you, and your body convulses around him. You scream into a pillow as you come. 
You are each other’s forbidden fruit. No prayer in the world could keep you apart. 
Faintly, you can hear him say, “Good girl.” Your legs quiver. He pulls away, then comes right back like a boomerang. 
He’s warm now. He was cold before, but when he kisses you this time, he’s warm. He’s hot. You run your hands over his bare chest, the scars that lie under the dark strands of hair. You tug at it, and he moans. You can tell he is a little insecure, but by pressing your lips to one of the cuts on his shoulder, he relaxes. 
What he must have endured, what he must have lived through before he died and was resurrected in the same breath, just without a beating heart—you don’t want to think about it or you will break, but you can still feel him through the crimson tie that holds you together, and you know that he has suffered enough for more than two lifetimes. You wish you could take it all away from him. You wish you could have saved him before it was too late, loved him more than the woman who turned him, but turning back time is an impossibility. You are both acutely aware of that. 
“Hey.” Matt tilts your head toward him. “Where did you just go?” he asks. 
“Thinking about you,” you murmur. 
“Me?”
“You.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to be your salvation.”
You. His salvation. He kisses you, softly this time. He pours gratitude into his lips and bleeds them out in poetry as they slide into your mouth, and you swallow every last drop. 
If someone had told you a week ago where you would see yourself on that particular Monday, you would have laughed at them. And if someone had told you a week ago that you would be making love to the devil, you would have called them crazy. But it’s happening. 
He thrusts into you without a warning. His thick cock fills you like nothing and no one ever has before. Your cunt has been molded to fit him, you’re sure. You take him in, and you moan at the stretch. It’s a pain so delicious you could fall apart right then and there just from the feel of him inside you. 
Every thrust drags the tip of his cock along your sweet spot. Every added sensation drives you closer to your death. 
Your body tingles. He explores your face with his lips rather than his fingers, moving to your neck again. You cling to him, oh-so-desperate for him. He likes you like that, and you like him like that. 
“You’re fucking with my head,” he tells you. “Offering your pussy to a vampire. Letting me drink your blood. Begging me to fuck you. You’re in my head, baby. Can’t get you out of my system. Fuck.”
You are his downfall, his salvation, but he is all of those things to you as well—all of those things and more. If he could read your mind, you would tell him that. Words can’t do justice to how you feel. Not right now, maybe not ever. 
“Bite me again,” you beg.
His thrusts falter. He searches your body for any sign of regret. His fangs come out, and he buries them deep in your jugular vein. The floodgates open wide. Your walls clench around his cock, your clit pulsates, and the wave crashes into you. 
You come as he devours your neck and your blood. You transcend into another dimension, far away from everything and everyone but never him. Never Matthew.
The sensation of you wraps around him like a weighted blanket. His balls tighten, your blood unfolding its taste on his tongue. You are all over him, inside of him, everywhere at once. He falls head-first, dragging you down with him. 
He comes with a shout that is only muffled through his teeth buried in your flesh, his cum spurting into you and filling your cunt to the brim. Your eyes roll back. You’re flying and falling all at once. 
Oh, how good it feels to be consumed by him. To be fucked and sucked dry. You would have never expected this to come out of your week, let alone your life, but now that it has happened, you are floating on cloud nine. 
Dizziness threatens to take over, but before you can pass out, he forces himself away, allowing your heart to catch up with the lack of blood in your system. He collapses on top of you. His cock softens, but he stays inside. You need him there. You want him there. And that is the only place he wants to rest tonight. 
He heals the wounds on your neck. “You have a mark,” Matt rasps, tracing your skin with his finger. 
You choke out, “Yours.”
“Yes, you are.” He kisses you there. Once, twice, even a third time. “Mine,” he says.
You’re his. He’s yours. It doesn’t get any better than this. 
The minutes tick away on the obnoxious clock on the wall. Matt pulls out eventually, wrapping you up in a blanket. He coaxes you to drink, but you’re barely lucid. Only when he begins to stroke your hair you start coming back to yourself. You thought you might regret it, but as you look at him, his almost guilty eyes staring back at you, all you can do is reach out for him. 
“Session two tomorrow?” you ask.
He chuckles and retorts, “Have I not scared you away?” There is some truth to it though.
He’s covered in your blood. It sticks to his lips, his hands, and his chest. It’s sickeningly intimate, in a way.
You shake your head in response. “You could not possibly.”
He listens to your heartbeat. You’re as honest as they come. 
“Okay,” Matt says. “Session two tomorrow then.”
That night, you fell in love with the Devil, but he also fell in love with you, his angel in the form of a reckless journalist, and the only blood he ever wants to taste again until the end of his miserable, cursed days. 
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Note
Um this is like my first time asking but I have an idea which I really like so here I am asking!
So basically Ted is in theatre school with you and he your in the same class and you were paired up to do a scene of Romeo and Juliet. And there was a kissing scene you had to do.
In the evening Ted and you do into the theatre empty to practice the scene and you were really scared to do the kiss and he helps you out and then it slowly from a kiss gets more passionate and deep then… you two ended up doing the dirty in the theatre.
but during sex, he becomes more dominant and degrading like “imagine you took me like this infront of the class next week? You would look like a total whore.”
AHHH I HOPE ITS OK! and if you do it then I will give more ideas defo 💗
I adore you (and everyone that asks), having said that- this is BY FAR my favorite one 😭 Shakespeare is one of my favorite writers, along with Poe.
Thank you, Nonny and thank all of you that enjoy my writing!! It genuinely makes me SO HAPPY to see people enjoying and appreciating my writing.
Mainly for my home girl- @writingduhh 🩵🩵🩵
Having said all of that…
FIRST OF ALL- I don’t think Ted has a kinky bone in his body; I think he’s a cute lil vanilla baby, but fuck it we ball. MINORS DNI. I FEEL LIKE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS AT THIS POINT.
Warnings: smut, slight bullying, degradation, praise, sexual tension, arguments, (kinda enemies to lovers), slapping (not abusive- purely sexual), choking, spit kink, spanking?, fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, unspoken daddy kink?, melodramatics, ‘pup’ and ‘puppy’ used (don’t judge me) but no pet play, As always, let me know if I need to add more 🩵
Shakespeare in Love (Teddy Nivison x Reader)
—🩵—🩵—
She thought she was far over having to work with him on this play. She thought it would be a simple one and done; that maybe he’d have a simple two or three liner part. However, the moment she read the names next to each character, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. There it had been, in big, bold letters:
Tybalt- Kyle Jean
Capulet- Chris River
Juliet- (Y/N Y/L/N)
Romeo- Ted Nivison
She still remembers the anger that she felt at him for even auditioning, the rage directed at the casting director, the dread she felt at knowledge of the script; but like any good actress, she played it off.
So now, she sat on stage, reading over the script while waiting for mister always late. Had it have been better (and easier) circumstances, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the door to the auditorium swinging open. Her eyes lifted and met his gaze, smirk and all. She felt a heated anger drop to the pit of her stomach, but that smirk caused a different kind of warmth to drop between her thighs. Rolling her eyes where she knew he could see, she stood to her feet while looking over the script once more.
She was a tall woman, she knew that, but he was so much taller. His shadow lingered over her and when she looked up at him, he wore a goofy grin, eyes boring into her. “You ready, Pumpkin?” He asked in a mocking tone that made her eye twitch for a moment.
“Don’t fucking call me that.” She grumbled softly, glaring up at him. He reached his hand out and his fingertips ghosted over her bare shoulder and down her collarbone.
“Why not?” He pouted lightly, fingertips brushing up her neck now. “I know it feels good.” He whispered the second part, winking at her and she raised her hand to slap him, before the director scolded her.
“(Y/N)! Let’s save our emotions for the audience, hmm?” He shouted over the talking students in the room. Everyone went quiet and turned their eyes to her, making a warm blush flood her cheeks.
“You’re so cute when you blush for me.” Ted teases softly, pinching her arm.
Today is going to be a long ass day…
—🩵—🩵—
She watched on with fake love in her eyes as Ted read off his lines like a beautiful poem, especially for her. He took her hand in his as he continued, voice warm and welcoming, as if it were a soft pillow for her to lie back on-
“If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” The words weren’t his, but the look in his eyes and the way he said it so clearly to her made her body grow warm. My character, it’s just his character speaking to mine.
“Good Pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do not touch, and hand to hand is holy palmers kiss.” She spoke skeptically, eyes watching his every move. As he moved his body closer to hers, she had to fight the urge to step back. She could practically feel the magnetic urgency trying to pull them together, but she denied it, craving the comfortability in safety. His hand carefully raised to her jaw, cupping it with a gentle palm.
“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” His voice was softer, careful almost, as if he was afraid of her pulling away. Taking in a sharp breath, she paused a moment, seemingly forgetting her lines- though she was quick to steady herself.
“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” She placed a careful hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he slipped an arm around her waist, fingertips resting in the small of her back. She knew it was coming, yet the more he touched her, the harder it was to keep up the boundaries she held.
“O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” His words were a deep rumbling whisper as his other hand slid up the side of her body. His fingertips gently massaged a path up her shoulder, her collarbone, just to rest carefully on her jawline. His thumb carefully ran over the apple of her cheeks as she struggled to find her line once more.
“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” Her mouth ran dry as he leaned forwards ever-so-slightly. She felt heat strike through her body and liquid heat pool in between her legs.
“Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.” His voice is deep rumble that vibrates her to her very core. When he leant down and pressed his lips carefully to hers, her world suddenly burst into vibrant colors, warmth immersing the room in the fireworks that flew between them. Both parties had a difficult time pulling apart, but she managed to pull away, only to realize she had a firm grip on his hair. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ted struggled to get his line out without stuttering, “Th-Thus from my lips, by then, my sin is purged.”
His eyes didn’t leave hers for even the slightest millisecond of time and his grip around her just tightened; until the director and everyone else in the class clapped. “That was absolutely stunning.” The director calls out. Almost instantly upon realization that they weren’t alone, they quickly tore apart from each other- she was blushing madly, while Ted just wore a look of confusion.
—🩵—🩵—
It was a few hours after practice and most of the staff went home, while she sat on the stage, silently going over her lines. She was reading through every detail, looking for every emotion. Lying back, she laid the script over her face, mind still flying from the previous events of the day. Suddenly, she heard the sound of footsteps and a soft shift of air around her as whoever it was sat beside her.
“Ted…” She grumbles, without even moving the script from her face. She knew it was him- of course she did, she hates him. His scent filled her nostrils and tempted to distract her.
“(Y/N)…” His voice is gentle; hearing him say her name like that was a surprise. Reaching up, he gently pulls the script away from her face. When her pretty eyes meet his, he smiles softly and just watches her for a moment. “Can we talk?”
“Hmph.” She lets out a soft puff of air and crosses her arms.
“(Y/N).” His voice is still gentle, but this time it takes on a warning tone. She looks back up at him through her lashes and sighs. Rolling her eyes, she moved to sit. “Now that you’re situated… Why do you hate me?”
“Can we just go over our lines, please?” Her eyes are silently pleading, but he just slowly nods with a soft sigh of succession.
“Where do you wanna start-“ He’s quickly cut off as she basically launches at him, crashing their lips together in a heated kiss. His mind is telling him to pull away, but everything else is telling him to pull her closer. His hands grip her hips, tight enough to leave bruises and he helps her climb into his lap. Pulling away, he looks up at her with a small smirk, “If you wanted me that bad you just needed to tell me.” He teased gently.
“If you want me at all, you’ll shut the fuck up.” She growls lowly. Raising a brow at her, he reaches behind her and places a firm slap on her rear.
“You better check your attitude with me, Sweetheart.” A squeak left her lips when he spanked her and she jumped, making her grind forward against him. Ted bit back a groan and closed his eyes. “Princess…”
The warmth in his voice and the tempting softness in his eyes made her melt right there in his lap. She was careful and hesitant with each movement she made. Exploring the new territory was terrifying, but it felt so… Right. Her lips traced along his neck, kissing and sucking every exposed inch of skin she could reach. Her canines would occasionally scrape over a patch of skin and her tongue would dart out to soothe it.
“You feel so good… Being such a good girl for me.” Ted mumbled, eyes closed and simply enjoying her sweet touches.
“You taste so good, Teddy.” She mumbles against his skin, tongue flicking out over his pulse point. “Makes me angry how good you feel.” Letting out a deep, breathy chuckle, he pries her away from him and lays her back on the stage.
“I know, Honey, I know…” He coos, pulling her shorts down her legs. His eyes settled on the wet patch on her panties, light hitting it and making it glisten in the most tantalizing way. His mouth watered at the sight. “Why don’t you let me make you feel good? Hmm? I bet you taste as beautiful as you look.” A high pitched whine leaves her lips and she grabs for him to try and pull him close again, but he denies her, instead moving his hands down her thighs and massaging the skin there. His thumbs kneaded her flesh, making her relax for him.
“There ya go, babes… That feel good?” He hums, hands creeping just slightly higher. A soft moan of relief leaves her lips.
“Yessss…” She hisses out softly, eyes fluttering shut.
“You seem to be carrying quite a bit of tension here…” He says smoothly as his hands move to the inside of her thighs and slowly creep higher. “But I think most of your tension is held here.” His fingertips brushing against the wet spot on her panties made her body jolt and a mewl sound around them, the sound bouncing off of the walls.
“Ted.” She whimpers, making him chuckle.
“Oh yeah, you’ve got so much tension… Right here.” As he finished his sentence, he gently pressed his thumb to her clit, making her back arch away from the stage and up towards him.
“Teddy!” She cries out in a lewd beg, hips moving against his hand in a desperate attempt to gain more friction. His thumb just continued to move in slow circles around her throbbing bud, making her cunt clench around nothing.
“What’s wrong, Hon? Hmm?” He teased, watching as her wetness continued to soak through her panties until she was dripping on the stage floor.
“I- I can’t- ‘S too much!” She cries out, nails digging into the skin of his forearm that she held onto for dear life. The confidence in his eyes flared and changed to a much darker expression, pupils blown wide with lust.
“Aww, does it feel too good, Pumpkin? Can’t handle feeling so good?” He mocked her in the most condescending way, but it made a whimper leave her lips as her eyes flashed open and met his. “You’re going to lay there and take it like the filthy slut you are.” He growls lowly, free hand slapping the outside of her thigh hard enough to leave a hand print, but her squeal morphed with a lewd moan of desperation.
“Yes Teddy… I- I can take- take it.” She stuttered out, legs shaking. His degrading hit her body like a truck, making her head go fuzzy. Ted nearly lost it when he saw the pure submissive state that she had slipped into, her eyes staring up at him innocently.
“Look at you, Princess…” He mumbles, pushing her panties aside and slipping his middle finger into her. Her breath caught in her throat and her lips parted in a silent moan. Her eyes locked on his as he curled his finger upwards to hit her most sensitive spot. “So fucking pretty.”
“Ted-“ She tries to speak, but he quickly shushes her. He slipped his ring finger into her as well and placed his free hand on her abdomen, very gently adding pressure. The feeling intensified for her and she cried out a sob, body shaking.
“You know I won’t let anyone else touch you now.” He mumbles, working his fingers faster and harder. “You’re mine now. Mine to degrade, mine to praise, mine to fuck… Mine to protect.” As the words continued to fall from his lips, her chest swelled with a new, overwhelming, uncertain emotion. Her cunt tightened, just as her chest did when she realized what emotion he was evoking in her.
“Ted I-“ He’s quick to cut her off.
“No, Shhh… Trust me, (Y/N)… Let me make you feel good, then you’re free to go back to hating me.” He speaks softly, eyes watching her face, rather than her body.
“No, Ted I want you.” She whimpers softly, her voice so soft and so weak. She sounded so innocent. “Please.” A warm smile broke out across his lips and he nodded, pulling his fingers from her and popping them in his mouth. A low groan rumbled through him, and he closed his eyes to savor her taste. When he pulled his finger free from his mouth.
“So fucking sweet.” He growls, literally ripping her panties from her body. “Because of course, the world’s biggest brat has to have the sweetest little pussy I’ve ever tasted.” He unbuckled his belt and yanked it off, folding it in half. Ted used the folded leather as a riding crop, slapping the outside of her thigh. “Spread ‘em, Cupcake.”
A smirk crossed her lips at the opportunity so clearly in front of her. Shaking her head, she huffed out one simple word, “No.” Ted grabbed her ankles and yanked her towards him. Giggling wildly, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Mmh, maybe I just won’t let you cum…” She whined at the idea, pouting and smacking his arm, making him use his free hand to hold hers down. “Maybe I’ll just stuff you with my cum and plug you up. Let you throb around a silly toy instead of me.”
“Teddy!” She basically begs, tears of frustration welling up in the corners of her eyes. He let out a warm, hearty laugh at her response and slowly dragged the belt across her abdomen, using it to brush her shirt slightly upwards.
“Aww, poor Pup wants me to breed her?” He asks, raising a brow as his free hand carefully massages her hip. She quickly nodded her head and her hands made a little grabby motion for him, a high pitched whine leaving her lips.
“You’re so precious, Honey.” He hums, undoing the button on his slacks and pushing them down -along either his boxers- just enough for his cock to spring free. Biting her lip, she watched as precum dripped from the tip and fell onto her thigh. Her eyes slowly went up his body to settle on his, boring into his soul.
“I wanna taste you, Theo.” She fluttered her lashes at him in the prettiest, most sweet and innocent way she could.
“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think you deserve that treat today, Puppy.” He hums, gripping her legs and placing them over his shoulders and leaning so close to her that his lips brushed against hers and he whispered, “You only get what I chose to give you.”
The second that he finished his sentence, he buried himself to the hilt. A cry tore from her throat as her back tried to arch, but couldn’t as he pressed further forward, basically bending her in half. Her hands flew to his back and her nails bit into the fabric, nearly tearing the threads apart piece by piece.
“I’m gonna fill you up until your pretty little body can’t hold anymore.” He growls lowly, biting her lower lip. His words made her cunt tighten around him in an attempt to draw him in even closer. Drawing his hips back slowly, she drew in a sharp gasp when his hips lurched forwards, burying himself inside of her once more.
“Teddddyyy nnngh!” She chokes out, body trembling beneath his and he chuckles darkly, mouth attaching to her.
“What’s wrong, Cupcake? Can you not take it?” He mocked, cooing in her ear as he quickened his pace, fucking into her harshly and caging her in with his arms beside her head. She wildly shook her head, grappling for him with her nails nearly shredding the fabric of his shirt.
“P-please- ta- Ahh~ take it off.” She stutters out, gripping over little moans and whines. Ted found it impossible to resist her pleas when they sounded just so pretty. He kept his eyes on her face as he felt her nails dragging down his back.
“That feel better, Hon?” He mumbles and she buried her face in his neck.
“Yessss…” She hissed, teeth biting into the skin of his neck. “Oh God, Theo…”
“If I’d have known that you’d stop being such a fucking brat, I would’ve fucked you sooner.” He growls, sharply slapping the outside of her thigh as he changed the angle of his hips, making her let out a shaky sob. Tears fell down her cheeks as her vision clouded. Ted smirked as he hummed, watching the way her body morphed and changed position with every thrust.
The way he filled her so full, made her mind fuzzy and her thoughts fade away. Her cunt tightened around him as she threatened to fall over the edge, “Please Ted!”
“I dunno, Pumpkin. Do you think you deserve it?” He asks, halting in his movements, making her so frustrated she nearly screamed.
“Please, please, please, I’ll be so good, I swear. I’ll be so so so good for you Theo, please.” She begged and pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Gimme a kiss then, cutie.” Before his sentence was even complete, she launched herself forward, capturing his lips on hers. While she was distracted, he slipped his hand between the two of them, thumb massaging quick circles on her pretty little bud, picking his thrusts back up. His ministrations, made her let out a squeak against his lips as the band in her belly stretches so tightly that it could break at any second.
“Go ahead, Honey. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up. How’s that sound? Want me to fill you up? Get you all round with my babies?” His words were all that she needed, her world exploding into stars and butterflies as her orgasm hits her like a comet hits the earth, shattering her every nerve. Ted watched as her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ and her eyebrows pinched together. He held eye contact with her the entire time, reminding her to breathe as she rides off the effects. “There ya go, there it is. You alright, Sweetie?”
Her breathing began to steady as overstimulation kicked in, “‘M good, Teddy… I wan’ it.” She mumbles as he helped her move her legs from his shoulders to around his waist. His thumbs gently massaged her hips as he slowly picked his thrusts back up.
“I know, honey… Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got ya.” He speaks calmly, watching her as she starts to come back to attention. “There ya are… Welcome back to reality, Sweetheart.” He chuckles softly, giving her a goofy smile. A giggle punctuated by a soft moan leaves her lips and she smiles up at him, her own hands gripping his biceps and rolling her thumbs over his skin.
A soft groan leaves him and he lets his head fall to her chest as he struggles to hold it together. “My God, you’re so fucking tight. Gonna squeeze the life outta me.” He grumbles, placing gentle kisses over her chest as he lazily rolls his hips against hers. Her fingers gently card through his hair as she mumbles her own praises to him.
“You feel so good, Ted. Ya’ make me feel s’ good.” She hums, locking her legs around his waist as he starts to lose his pace. Lifting his head with the little energy he has left he gives her a questioning look.
“You sure you don’t-“ But she was quick to cut him off.
“Cum for me.” She whispers in his ear, placing a careful, open mouthed kiss on his neck. Right when she spoke, her pussy clamped down on him, making his eyes roll back in his head as his hips stutter and he bottoms out inside of her.
“Mmh, fuck…” He growls, filling her to the brim. “So good for me… Takin’ it so fuckin’ well.” His head falls to her chest and he mumbles something into her shirt. Whatever he said made him blush, the tips of his ears going red. She gently cups his jawline and lifts his head to look at her.
“What did you say, Theo?” She asks gently, thumb running across his lip. He paused and just stared at her for a moment, silence floating between them.
“I can’t believe you never realized how in love with you I am.”
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𝕻𝖍𝖞𝖘𝖎𝖈𝖆𝖑 𝕾𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓
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𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: In the honor of my birthday (03/26). I give you the rest of my imaginary cake as I do not like cake. Have a vine too.
𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.
𝚃𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗:
Moje Zlato - My Gold (Slovak)
Zlato - Gold (Slovak)
𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: If you are under the age of 18. Shoo! Go away! Skedaddle! Why you reading this in the first place? Be 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 for/of yourself.
TW // SMUT/NSFW, Filth, Language, Google Translation, 𝙽𝚘𝚗-𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗.
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Getting out of the bathroom, I didn’t expect Dorvenos to be on my bed with his fiber-like suit still on. Showing all the best curves on his body. Was he planning to go somewhere afterward?
“…Dorvenos.” I greeted the relaxed Salamander, ringing out my hair with a towel. His red eyes flickering down at my choice of pajamas before settling on my face.
“Little Zlato, how was your shower?” He asked, gesturing for me to get on the bed.
“Eh, it could have been better.” I said, looking at him skeptically, not moving from my spot as I turned to throw the towel in the dirty laundry basket. “What are you in my room for?”
“To… congratulate you.” He admitted.
“…Why?” I asked, really wondering of that ‘why’ he would. I was simply helping out the old lady on the corner of the street all day. Helping her plant and carry some soil out of her husband's truck. It took all day, but it was worth it seeing her home prosper again.
“Can I not reward you?” He questioned, tilting his head a little to the side. Seemingly tired with the singular question.
I wanted to say “no” and be petty to him. Tell him to get off my bed and go to his own or I could say “I’ll go to sleep on the couch” but the bed was far more comfortable than that old, rickety thing and I was not in the best shape to take that. Gardening was a lot more work than some people realize.
“Reward me how?” I asked, slowly inching my way towards the bed and him. Hopefully, he’ll just move over.
“With you of course.” He sighed, leaning up quickly to snatch me from the side of the bed. My heart jumping at the suddenness as I tensed up in his arms while he tucked me between his legs.
“Me? What?” I questioned him this time. Placing my hands on his fiber suited chest, the rubbery texture of it throwing me off a little. I could feel how his muscles contracted underneath it, working together to help him move and to help him breathe. Even his soft beating heart’s that went off one by one.
“Yes, you, my little Zlato.” He grinned, his lips tickling the top of my forehead. His hands slowly tracing the curve of my back as I shivered in his hold at the sensation of the fabric of my clothing dragging up with his hand.
“What are you planning there, you drake?” I lightly insulted him, practically calling him a subadult.
“I was going to tell you that your strength was admirable today.” He stated, lightly running his lips down my cheek. His eyes looking at me with a certain desire in them. “It was… fascinating.”
“How your little body moved to pick up the soil.” He spoke, his Salvic accent coming out stronger. His heated breath hitting my neck. “How the sun hit your glistening body.”
“Oh, how I wished to eat you up right there.” He groaned, dragging his hand up my backside, threading through my damp hair and gently pulled my head back. His tongue pressing up against the center of my throat. Sending a pulse down to my core. “Such a good little bonded.”
Slowly, he dragged his other hand down her soft body more. Trailing over the skin of her thigh. His mouth sucking at her neck, tasting her skin that smelled like her body soap. Not willing to leave her throat just yet with his hand still in her wet hair.
She whined, her hands pressing up against his chest for support while his fingers traced the waistband of her panties. Feeling her body for her unspoken words of disagreement before he slid his fingers underneath. Trailing down to her pulsing core.
He stopped when he felt her tense on him. A soft rumble leaving him as he waited for any sort of words to tell him to stop, but he got none as he expected. His little zlato was a little shy one in these particular course of actions.
Pulling her head forward. His middle finger slid above her wet folds first, gathering her natural slick before pushing through her gummy walls. Her body tensing up on him again, her breath hitching as he used that to his advantage. Taking her opened lips in his while she refused to moan outright for him. Her body curling into him. Craving for him.
“I pondered what you would taste like.” He confessed, leaning back from the kiss with a huff. Listening to his little zlato trying to conserve her pretty little sounds. Moving his finger in and out. “To taste you while you were working.”
Letting go the back of her head. She leaned immediately forward into him, her forehead pressing up against his chest as he leaned back on the bed. Her walls guiding his finger deeper into her.
“…Dorvenos.” She huffed his name, nuzzling into his chest. A quiet purr rumbling through him, loving how she moaned his name while he pushed another finger through her walls. Her nails gripping at him through his fiber layer.
He kept an average pace with his fingers, occasionally scissoring her until he stretched her enough he could slide a third one in through her soaked folds. A moan escaping her mouth while she shifted on him, chasing him as he grinned.
“Let me hear those pretty little sounds of yours.” He hummed, pushing a little deeper, touching her weak spot just right where she wanted him. A gasp coming out of her as she shivered. Her walls tightening around his fingers.
He let her ride out her afterglow on his fingers before she rested up against his chest. Staining his fiber-muscle layer with her juices. His fingers leaving her clenching core to taste what he longed for.
“You sweet little bonded.” He spoke, licking her slick off his fingers then jerking up in surprise. Not expecting his little zlato to be so bold. Grinding the outline of his c*ck.
“Dorvenos…” she whined for him. His c*ck twitching underneath his fiber confinement and purred when she grinded again on his clothed c*ck. Throne, the things his little zlato does to him.
Taking ahold of her *ss, he rips off her pajamas off with ease before ripping his own clothing off. His c*ck coming out proud and hitting against his little zlato wet folds. Eager to get her all sweating again. To smell her natural scent.
He groaned, squishing her butt cheeks in his hands. Her wet core brushing up against his c*ck. A shiver going down his spine as he twitched against her thigh.
“Málo zlata!(Little Gold!)” He gasped, hips jerking upward, both party’s moaning out. He was not expecting his little bonded to sink down on him. To take him— so well.
She bounced up and down his c*ck, coating it with her slick. His hands resting on her waist. Waiting for her to fall back into him as he knows just how much bigger he was to her.
“Please, r-right there!” She suddenly begged, breathing heavily. Her legs shaking with exhaustion.
“Right… here?” He questioned holding her hips and thrusting upwards in the same spot. Gaining a high-picked moan to please his ears. He already knows all her weak spots, but he loved to watch as his little zlato rolled her eyes back. How her body practically melted in his arms.
“Y-Yes!” She moaned, throwing her head back, exposing her neck to him and he couldn’t help but lean forward and suck on her skin there again. Feeling how she clenched around him. How her throat moved when she swallowed. Loving the show of submission.
He groaned, wrapping his arms around her, picking up his pace as mewls and gibberish ran out of his little zlato mouth. The bed squeaking underneath the quick movement.
“P-Please, keep going.” She begged him breathlessly as he suddenly flipped positions, needing a better angle. Watching her chest quickly rise up and down.
“I don’t plan to stop, little Zlato.” He stated, starting his quick pace once more into her core. Hitting her at a much more numbing angle.
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semstyles0 · 2 days
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Rafe smut that i never published in my book! (pls ignore if you see any old names like Arabella! i did proof read but can’t be certain)
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⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆ Switch Rafe, little degrading, slapping( reader to rafe), probably more so pls comment what i missed my brain isn’t working 😭
Rafe’s POV
I glance over to the side and see her lying next to me, her tight, white crop top hugging her tits. I groan in annoyance and throw my head back.
I can't handle it any more.
It's this whole Fake dating thing she's got me doing.
I'm convinced she only wants to do this to torture me.
She made a bet with me that I wouldn't be able to stay loyal to my 'secret' girlfriend and, therefore, could never stay loyal to a real one.
Well, let's just say, I'm winning so far.
I haven't had sex with anyone for the past two months.
Every single night I'm having wet dreams about her as if I'm some kind of virgin.
She doesn't help my situation either. When we're in front of people she's constantly touching me or rubbing against me in some secretive kind of way.
Or she's deliberately bending over in front of me, flashing me her tiny panties under her skirts and dresses, her hips swaying side to side before she stands up again, giving me an innocent look.
Like yesterday for example. Her friend decided to throw a huge party at the club and we all went. The night was going well until she dragged me to the dance floor to dance with her.
She moved her hips against mine for a good fifteen minutes all whilst deliberately skimming her hand across my dick, leaving me rock hard and overwhelmed with hornyness.
Of course, when we all got home she decided to didn't want to stay at her house and begged to stay with me at Tanneyhill
Of course, I agreed.
Which leads us to now.
Her body is sprawled across my bed as she sleeps. Her tiny shorts cling to her hips as she shifts in her sleep, a quiet moan leaving her.
I close my eyes tight and pray my boner leaves before she wakes-
"Morning, Rafey," she mumbles.
I turn to look at her and give her a weak smile, "Morning,"
I shift uncomfortably, trying my best to hide my dick that's straining against my Calvin's.
"What's wrong? You look... in pain," she says making me glance over to her.
My eyes instantly fall to her tits again and I groan, "I can't do it anymore. You win, okay? I need to have— I have to have sex with someone. I'm going fucking insane,"
Her eyes widen in surprise as she stares back at me, "What?"
"The teasing! The short dresses! The short skirts! Those tiny tops you wear, I just— I can't take it anymore. My wrist hurts and—."
She grimaces and slowly sits up from her position on the bed, "You're sexually frustrated?"
I nod rapidly, "Extremely,"
She pulls her bottom lip back between her front teeth before nodding slowly, "And you need help?"
I nod again, hoping she gives me the go-ahead to call one of my hookups.
She grins, "Fine,"
I exhale a breath and reach for my phone, "Thank god, I really thought—."
She climbs on top of me before I can even scroll through my contacts, her ass landing perfectly against my dick.
She snatches my phone and throws it down onto the bed making my brows furrow, "What're you—."
She lifts her hips and shimmies down me before pulling my underwear down, just enough to get my cock out.
Her eyes widen and I watch her through hooded eyes.
She gulps and slowly looks up to meet my gaze. She shakes her head quickly as if she's snapping out of a daze before she leans down and squeezes my cheeks together, "You can still win the bet as long as you stay loyal to me,"
I nod slowly, piecing together what she means, "You want me to fuck you?"
She shakes her head and slowly drags her acrylic nails up my bare thigh making my entire body quiver beneath her touch.
"I'm going to fuck you,"
My eyes widen in surprise and I quickly shake my head, "Hey, no, I'm not into that—."
She rolls her eyes, "I'm going on top, you fucking idiot,"
I nod again and watch her as she edges her mouth closer to my dick making it ache even more.
As soon as I feel her lips brush against my tip, I feel my heartbeat quicken. I bring one hand down to her face and brush my thumb against her cheek reassuringly as she slowly wraps her lips around my tip.
"Oh fuck."
I feel her smirk around me as she lowers her mouth, swallowing my cock.
I shake my head quickly, already feeling my balls tighten, "No, fuck— I won't last,"
She doesn't listen, she just stays still for a moment before lifting her eyes to meet mine. I watch her smirk around me again before she starts moving her lips and hallowing her cheeks.
A whine escapes me and it makes her moan in response as I begin to snap my hips forwards, needing to find a release.
"Nah- Fuck, No— I'm gonna come," I warn her making her pull off of my cock with a loud 'pop' as it falls against my stomach.
I groan and shut my eyes tight as I feel the pre-come coat my abs, knowing I won't last much longer.
She gently slaps my face a few times making my eyes open. She climbs back up me and leans down, her face close to mine, "I hope you know I'm going to keep going until I come too,"
I nod rapidly, "Yeah, whatever you want, just please let me feel you,"
She grins and quickly slips her shorts off, before throwing them to the floor. I reach for her hips and pull her towards me, "Not gonna last long, okay?"
She shrugs and raises her hips before gripping my dick. I widen my eyes, "No condom?"
“On birth control and haven't been with anyone and neither have you," she slowly sinks herself down onto me making my entire body feel like it's on fire as I feel her tight cunt clench around my tip.
"Oh f-fuck," I stammer as she continues to push me inside of her until she's completely full. She draws her bottom lip in between her teeth again as she suppresses a moan.
I shake my head and refrain from thrusting up into her, "Wanna hear you, need to know how you sound,"
She releases the moan she kept pent up and I swear I'm already seeing stars.
"Please move or I'll have to—."
She cuts me off by slowly rocking her hips before turning the rocking into full bounces.
I don't even need to help her, she knows exactly how to do it without any help.
I close my eyes again and try to stop myself from coming too soon but as soon as I hear her moaning again, I open them, watching her as she bounces and uses her fingers to circle her clit.
How am I ever meant to fuck anyone else now that I've been inside of her?
Her tits bounce with her, her hard nipples poking through the thin material of her top as her head falls back, "R-Rafe, fuck, you're too big-." she stammers as she slows down her movements slightly.
I'm a goner.
My hips stammer against hers as I spill inside of her, pumping her full of my cum.
Her movements don't stop even though my entire cock is pulsing from sensitivity, "Sh-shit, baby—."
"Just shut the fuck up and let me—."
I don't let her finish her sentence. I pull her off of me and throw her down onto the bed making her gasp in a breath.
I push her legs apart and watch as my seed drips from her cunt and onto my bed sheets.
I click my tongue and use my fingers to stuff it back inside of her making her moan again, "Need your dick to finish— to finish me off, please, Rafe,"
A low growl comes from the back of my throat as I pump my cock a few times, feeling myself get hard again quickly.
I spread her legs wider before wrapping my hands under her thighs and pulling her closer to me. I grip my cock and gently circle her clit a few times, watching her intently as she writhes and moans.
"Need my dick, huh?"
She nods with a submissive look in her eye making me give her my whole length in one quick thrust.
"I'm gonna fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Think that shit was funny when you kept teasing me, huh?" I scoff and shake my head, watching her as she grips the bedsheets so tightly her hands turn white. "Had to wait two months to get you like this. Got a lot of cum left for you,"
She whimpers and brings her hand down to her clit, her fingers attempting to circle her clit.
I quickly grip her hands and push them away making her whine, "Please, I really need to come,"
"And you will if you can just be fucking patient, all right?"
She nods again, her eyes glued to mine as I shake my head at how pathetic she's become so quickly.
I stare down at her cunt and watch as I slowly pull back, watching some of my cum drip out of her again. I push back in deeply making her body jolt before I lean down and spit directly onto her clit.
"Lift your fucking shirt," I demand.
She does as she's told and lifts it up, showing me her perfect, full tits.
I lean down and immediately wrap my mouth around of one her nipples. I use my other hand to grip her other tit and toy with her nipple as I slowly rock into her.
She whimpers again, "Oh, fuck, please, please go faster,"
I pull off of her with a pop and stare down into her eyes, "You're desperate huh?"
She closes her eyes and I shake my head, using my hand to drum my fingers against her jaw, "Don't go fucking dumb on me already, baby, you wanted this, right?"
She nods again, "Mhm, I did,"
"Good, so you're gonna take it?"
She nods again.
"Good,"
I rut against her and lean back, watching her tits bounce as I pick up my speed.
The sound of her skin slapping against mine makes my cock throb inside of her mess and I know it won't be long before I'm coming again.
"Waited so fucking long to see you like this— so fucking beautiful, shit," I hiss as I bring a hand down to her clit and start to draw circles.
"Oh my fucking god,"
"Yeah, that's right baby, that's what you think I am, huh?" I coo.
She nods again making me smirk, loving how cock drunk she is already. She would rather die than say anything like that normally.
"Not-not gonna last," she cautions.
I force a pout, "Aw, baby, you can't last longer than five minutes?"
I laugh knowing damn well I only lasted two so she's already doing better than me.
She reaches up and grips my shoulders, yanking me down towards her before smashing her lips into mine.
I feel her clench around me as her tongue slips into my mouth and before I know it my dick is twitching.
Her nails dig into my shoulders as the kiss deepens with a passion and a hunger that I've never experienced before.
I feel her tighten even more as if her pussy is begging to milk my cock again.
She pulls away from my mouth and her legs shake, "I'm gonna come— oh my god,"
I watch her with dark eyes as her entire body shakes beneath mine and her wet lips part. Her eyes close tight and before I can do anything, I feel a gush of water around my cock as I continue to thrust into her at a brutal pace.
"Rafe! Oh fuck, It's too much— I can't," she rasps, her nails digging into my harder.
I groan and drop my face closer to hers, “Kiss me again.”
She does as she's told and presses her lips to mine making my cock throb inside of her before I spill inside of her again.
I drop my head to her chest as we both fight to find our breaths in the heated room, our sticky bodies pressed together as I gently kiss along her chest making her whimper.
"That was—."
"Yeah," she breathes.
⋆。‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧。⋆
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gogogodzilla · 2 days
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hiiiii can i request a smut one shot with peeta🥰 anything you’d like. thank you!!!
Dress || Peeta Mellark
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peeta mellark x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, slight dirty talk, fingering, mentions of panty stealing, continuation of this post masterlist ✩ read on ao3 ✩
Effie isn’t lying when she mentions that the Capitol spared no expense for the reception at President Snow’s mansion, although it’s probably pocket change for the Capitol. Humongous parties like this are the norm, after all. 
Your engagement ring’s an unfamiliar sensation on your finger but not an unwelcome one. You link your arm with Peeta’s as you explore the mansion. The ceiling of the banquet hall replicates the night sky and reminds you of home. You wonder if any of the Capitol citizens have ever seen the night sky. The lights from the city are usually too bright, and you doubt many have bothered to venture outside of the Capitol. 
You walk through the ornate halls, exchanging pleasantries with dignitaries and various guests. As the night wears on you begin to think that your cheeks might cramp up from all the smiling. 
It isn’t long before you find where the food is being kept and your mouth waters at the sight. Tables are laden with every kind of dish you could imagine and even more that you’ve never seen in your life line the walls.
“It isn’t fair,” you whisper as you gaze at the various tables. 
Peeta turns to you with a barely-masked grim look. “People are starving…” he began but you’re quick to cut him off. 
“I know.” 
Before you know it, you’re sampling everything you possibly could, determined not to let anything go to waste. It’s no time before your moments of peace with Peeta are ruined by your prep team descending on you. Their drunken babbles mix together, but you do your best to keep up with what they’re saying. 
Octavia questions why you aren’t eating and you brush her off with a laugh, claiming to be unable to fit another bite. This causes a chorus of high-pitched laughs to break out amongst your prep team, and you shoot Peeta a confused look which he mirrors. 
“No one lets that stop them!” Flavius exclaims as he leads you and Peeta to a table holding thin-stemmed wine glasses filled with a clear liquid. 
Peeta picks one up to take a sip, and it’s almost comical how fast every member of your prep team moves to stop him. 
“Not here!” Octavia shrieks. 
Venia points to doors that lead to the bathroom, “You have to do it in there or you’ll get it all over the floor!” 
Peeta looks between the glass and your prep team, quickly putting the pieces together. “You mean this will make me puke?” 
You attempt to hide your disgust while your prep team chuckles. 
“It’s so you can keep eating. How else would you be able to try everything?” Octavia says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 
Peeta sets the glass gently back down on the table and holds his arm out to you. “I think it’s time for a dance. My love?” 
Peeta leads you onto the dance floor and pulls you into his arms, mimicking the stance of the dance Effie taught you not too long ago. The dances at home are more lively than this, but you appreciate the closeness this one provides. 
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” he murmurs, and his jaw tenses. 
You run your fingertips along his shoulder and then give it a reassuring squeeze. “Just one more night, and then we can go home,” you remind softly, a small smile gracing your features as you attempt to comfort him. 
He leans his forehead against yours, sighing. “I can’t wait.” 
You pull away slightly, eyes flickering to the front pocket of his suit where your panties are safely nestled. He follows your gaze and grins slyly. 
“You know, I think there are a few rooms we didn’t explore,” you suggest, looking at the crowd around you. Most people are too busy with their conversations to notice you. 
The soft music comes to an end and you give a small curtsy while Peeta bows back. He takes your hand and leads you through the opulent halls of the mansion. Candlelight illuminates your path as you follow him, and a jolt of the thrill of what’s to come runs down your spine. 
Your adventure leads you to a nearly empty hallway and Peeta picks a room to peek into. Once satisfied with the apparent emptiness of the room, he pulls you in and shuts the door gently behind you. He spins you around and before you know it, his lips are on yours. You’re quick to deepen the kiss, and he lets out a small groan in response. 
You pull away to catch your breath and turn your head to admire the room you’re in. It’s elegantly appointed with plush furnishings and a canopy bed. Peeta takes the opportunity to trail kisses down the side of your neck, and you lean your head to the side to give him more room. 
Peeta’s hands begin to wander across your body, caressing any skin he can reach as he nudges you closer to the bed. Your mind is screaming at you to stop this and return to the party, but the ache between your legs proves to be much more persuasive. 
The backs of your thighs hit the mattress and you clamber onto the bed as quickly as your dress will allow. Peeta follows you and his lips are back on yours within an instant. You groan into the kiss, already becoming lost in him. 
He runs his hands up your legs, pulling your dress up along with it. You nearly forgot how exposed you were the entire night until the cool air of the bedroom hits your dripping heat. Peeta kneels between your legs, and you spare a glance at him. His eyes are half-lidded and his cheeks are flushed and he looks absolutely perfect. 
Your eyes dip down to the very obvious tent in his pants and you can’t help but reach for it. He watches as you palm him, occasionally grinding against your hand. 
You tentatively reach for the button of his pants and look up at him for permission. With a nod of his head, you pop the button of his trousers and tug the zipper down. Clumsy fingers reach within the waistband of his briefs and free his cock from its confines. Peeta groans as you slowly stroke him.
He drags his fingertips along your thighs, slowly nearing where you need him the most. 
You buck your hips unconsciously, desperate for his touch, as you continue to gingerly stroke him. 
Peeta slowly, sinfully, circles your clit before dipping down to tease your entrance, earning a mewl from you. He presses a finger inside you, pumping it slowly before adding another one. 
Your eyes roll in the back of your head as he touches what feels like the deepest depths of your insides, and your grip loosens on his cock as you get lost in the sensation of him. 
He removes his fingers and you whine at the loss, but he quickly satiates you with the drag of his cock through your folds. Your fingers tangle in the bedsheets on either side of you, desperate for something to hold onto. 
“So beautiful, my love,” Peeta murmurs as the head of his cock teases your entrance. 
“Please, Peeta,” you whine as you grab onto his forearm, the cuff of his suit wrinkling under your grasp. 
He chuckles before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “S’okay, my love. I’ll take care of you.” 
Slowly, he pushes inside of you and your eyebrows knit together as you focus on taking all of him. You’ve never felt so full in your life, and it was making your head spin. 
Your hands slide up to cup Peeta’s face, and his pulse quickens under your fingertips. You tug him closer, longing for his lips on yours. 
The kiss is gentle and sweet, much unlike your heated and needy movements moments ago. Slowly, Peeta begins moving his hips and you gasp against him. He takes the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, and your cheeks flush. 
You pull him impossibly closer as the pace of his thrusts increases and he presses sloppy kisses against the column of your neck. He pins your arms on either side of your head and intertwines your fingers with his. 
Peeta rests his head against your shoulder and with every roll of his hips little pants and moans leave him. You wished he would be louder, but you feared you’d be shot on sight if you got caught. Although, it would be a very memorable headline for the evening news. 
“You’re so,” he begins but is cut off by both of you moaning as he reaches a particularly sensitive spot within you and you clench against him. “Fuck, my love.” 
“Faster,” you whine against him, acutely aware of the amount of time you’ve been gone from your own party. 
Peeta ruts deeply within you as he quickens his pace, and the moans that left him cause your cheeks to flush. His head resting on your shoulder allows you to hear every little noise that he makes, and you love every single second of it. 
You reach down to where you’re connected and draw hasty circles against your clit, causing the familiar coil inside you to tense. You’re not sure whether it’s the final roll of his hips or your fingers circling your clit just right that throws you over the edge, but you let out a loud moan that Peeta quickly swallows with a kiss. 
His hips falter against your own, and Peeta quickly pulls out of you. You whine at the loss, and Peeta kneels between your legs as he strokes himself once and then twice before his release coats your inner thighs. 
You attempt to catch your breath as you watch Peeta come down from his high. He leans down and captures your lips in his. You smile into the kiss, momentarily forgetting what awaits you outside the bedroom door. 
You pull away and cup his face, “We should probably rejoin the party. I think Effie will be looking for us.” 
He sighs as he leans into your touch, “It was nice to forget for a moment where we are and why we’re here.” 
“It was,” you nod as you lean in for one last kiss. Peeta is quick to oblige you before pulling out his handkerchief and cleaning up the mess the two of you made. 
He rights himself before helping you to the edge of the bed, careful of your skirts. 
“Do you think people noticed?” 
You huff out a laugh, “For the sake of our lives, I hope they were too busy with the food.”
“It’d certainly make our act more convincing,” he grins as he helps you stand. Your legs are a little wobbly and you cling to him. 
“You keep making my legs feel like this, and it won’t be an act anymore,” you tease as you both near the door. 
He leans down to whisper against the shell of your ear, “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
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astroyongie · 2 days
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˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Heaven and Back
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Parings: Sunghoon x Reader
Warnings: slight smut, mentions of drug and alcohol intake, poor mental health, sub intendo of auto harmful behaviors.
Read with: https://open.spotify.com/intl-pt/track/1JdQibdvxgcrB8Rv1KFndw?si=0a3f35afa0414d89
It was ringing. The loud sound of the music bombing against your earbuds and people punching each other to get inside the club made you a little too alert. It had been your idea really. To come clubbing, in a pathetic attempt to numb the feeling inside your chest due to your breakup. You had exaggerated your makeup, done your hair nicely, asked your nail tech to give your hands a second life and your short dress glued to your curve like a glove.
You were self conscious. But at this particular moment, you would have traded your soul with the devil if it meant to feel anything but the hurt that was consuming your being. Your friend had warned you, this club was different, it wasn't the type of club one would come to just have fun.
You knew it. Yet, you wanted to know what it felt like to go hell and back. 
“Are you sure you wanna do this, y/n?” 
Your friend yelled at your ear which only made you laugh. You had drowned your 3 shots in less than half an hour, still not tipsy enough to join the crowd dancing. Laying before you on the countertop, was your half drunken drink, vodka with coke if you remembered well. What you hadn’t expected was the bartender to slip in front of you what seemed to be a yellow pill with a smiley face on it. A pill of ecstasy. 
Honestly, if anyone said to you that you would one day be in one of Itaewon's most renowned nightclubs, drinking to your heart’s content and getting high, you would have laughed at their face.
But shit happens. And right now, your heart was too broken, too foul to even rationalize the danger of your actions. No, you weren’t sure. Probably mixing alcohol and this type of stimulant was a terrible idea, but you were past the curiosity. You just wanted the pain to stop. As long as you could numb these feelings on your chest and forget about that prick that broke your heart, you would be fine.
“C’mon, don’t think I would puss out of this!” you said with a loud voice, almost like you were trying to reassure yourself. The music was resonating loudly, the atmosphere of the club humid and thick in smoke. The scent of alcohol and cigarettes was heavy, it made your eyes cry but it also emptied your mind of any feeling. 
Without a second thought you popped the pill inside your mouth, using the vodka to wash it away. Your face scrunched at the bitter taste before you yelled in excitement. Taking your friend by her arms you dragged her to the dance floor ready to allow your mind to turn into nothing putty. 
“Hey, are you sure you are alright?” Your friend asked, their worried features making you want to get violent. You hated when people took pity on you.
“I am fine, geez stop asking and just let me have fun!”
“Fine, just don’t get yourself in trouble!”
You ignored them, proceeding with your sloppy and most certainly, embarrassing dance moves. The music was loud, the beat hitting your eardrums as you danced to the sound, laughing. Sticky bodies danced around you, and you tried to blend in with their mouvements, allowing yourself to release the pressure on your shoulders. You could feel the effects of ecstasy hitting your body. You felt lighter, not worried about the thoughts of others. It felt euphoric. You closed your eyes, allowing the music to take possession of your body as you moved without a care of the world. 
Feeling a soft hand on your smaller back, you open your eyes. Behind you, a young man stood there, his light brown hair falling gently over his eyes. He looked amused by you, a soft smile on his lips as he leaned into your ear.
“Sorry, but you have been sticking on me.” 
“I was?” You asked, turning around to face him before leaning to answer, talking over the music. He smelled like vanilla. “Sorry about that”
“It’s fine,” The stranger boy said, locking eyes with you for a moment, before adding “You okay?”
“Shit, yeah sorry!” you said, almost stumbling on your own feet. His hands gripped your waist tighter, not allowing you to fall. “What’s your name?” You asked, obvious of his actions, your own brain functioning way slower than usual. 
The boy smiled wide. “Sunghoon”
“Well, Sunghoon, you are gorgeous!”
“And you are drunk” 
You shrugged, not caring. In another context you would have been ashamed of yourself and ask forgiveness for your shameless behavior, but with the drug in your system you couldn't care less. You felt way too satisfied. 
“Sunghoon, wanna dance with me?”
You asked, grabbing the boy by the collar of his white shirt. He didn't struggle, instead he offered you a nod, his hands lazily going to your hips, without putting much pressure in case you changed your mind. 
You smirked, the foreign feeling of having someone else touching you, making you elated. Dancing with Sunghoon proved to be way easier than what you thought. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you swung your body left and right at the rhythm of the music. He followed your movements easily, a little smile plastered on his face. 
His eyes watched you attentively and you grinned. This was so much easier when the drug and alcohol were in your system and you didn't care about the dumbass of your ex anymore. Your heart felt light and for a moment, you wanted nothing more but to enjoy this. You felt Sunghoon’s lips travel close to your neck, without totally touching you. The ghosting feeling makes you tighten your grip around him. 
“Stop teasing me”
You groaned, pulling yourself closer to him, directing his face to your own lips. The kiss was subtle, yet needy. Sunghoon wasted no time in licking your bottom lip before slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The sinful sound you made was muffled by the loud music in the background, your bodies still moving together.
You kissed him back, until you were forced to break apart from the lack of air. You licked your lips flashing him a smile before you turned your body around. This time, Sunghoon’s hands gripped your waist firmly as your body grinned against his, your hips moving sensually against his bulge. You couldn’t hear him but you felt his body rigid against yours. This felt way more nice than what you were expecting.
“What’s your name?” Sunghoon asked, his hot breath against your ear making you shiver. You turned your head slightly to answer him
“Y/n” 
He hummed in response, capturing your lips in the process. The kiss was slower, more passionate and wet. He moved his tongue slowly against yours, his hands shamelessly traveling from your exposed thigh, up to your waist. You could feel everything, from his breath and his taste and it was driving you crazy. You needed more. You needed him more, that was a certainty. 
“Wanna go somewhere quieter?” Sunghoon asked against your lips, planting a few light ones along between his words. 
You agreed with a nod of your head. Parting away from you, Sunghoon held your hand before pulling you away from the dancefloor. At this point, you didn't even remember your friend and honestly, you didn't care at all. The people started to be less and less, and the moment you got more air to breathe, you felt your legs weak. A crashing wave of sickness making your body shiver in cold sweat.
“Hey, you okay?” Sunghoon asked as you both reached the bottom of the staircases, that led you to the lounge. It was not a private space, but it provided comfort for those who needed a breath from the euphoria happening downstairs. You nodded your head. “Yea, I just want you” You murmured, trying to reach on your tiptoes to kiss him. When your lips were on his earlier, you didn’t feel this awful. Sunghoon leaned down, kissing you once again. The kiss was this time softer, almost caring and you felt your whole body shake in need. Or perhaps it was the effects of alcohol and drugs finally catching you up for your mistakes. 
When he broke apart again, Sunghoon helped you up the stairs until you both reached the lounge. His hands were still on your body, leading you to one of the empty red couches. When you finally sat down, you felt your head turning, the dizzy feeling making you nauseous. You felt Sunghoon sit next to you, but you could barely see him. The strong scent of vanilla was the only thing stopping you from dripping into unconsciousness. 
“You okay?” Sunghoon asked once again, his hand on your exposed thigh burning your skin. His voice was worried, but when looking at his face, you couldn't even process his facial expression. You nodded, your hands searching for his warmth as you tried to pull him into yet, another kiss. His lips moved gracefully against your, and you were aware of how pathetic you might look, the boiling feeling reaching your stomach.
A bad trip? you thought. The drug was making you feel sick, and even the sweet taste of sunghoon wasn’t erasing that unsettling feeling of guilt inside your mind. Your 3 years relationship had just finished and you were coping miserably. Instead of facing your emotions, you were in a club drugged, drunk and kissing this nice stranger. 
You wanted to throw up. No, you didn't have the energy for that, you were just feeling yourself slip away. Were you going to die in the arms of a stranger?
Sunghoon pulled away, his gaze watching you. You faintly noticed his seriousness. His hand caressed your cheek and you felt your skin wet. Were you crying? 
“You lied, you are not fine. You are terrified.”
The graveness of his voice made you break. Without controlling your body anymore, you sobbed in shame, hiding your face in your hands. Sunghoon gently held you, pulling you close to his body. 
“I don’t want to die. But I feel like I am dying, why everything hurt so much”
“It 's okay.. I am here.”
Sunghoon held you, the warmness of his body calming the waves of shivers running down your spine. This was beyond sad. Grinding on a stranger and crying on his arms like you have known him all your life. 
“I wanted to feel heaven. But why am I feeling like hell?.”
“Y/n?, hey y/n”
The sound of Sunghoon’s voice became muffled, as if he was meters away from you. The lights were getting dim and you felt your ears rigging. And then, nothing. The darkness you had tried to run away from, crawling back to you and swallowing you whole.  
You were finally doing it. Going to Heaven and back. 
27 notes · View notes
wannab-urs · 12 hours
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The King Has Lost His Crown
Pairing: ex!Dieter Bravo x gn!Reader
Summary: Dieter shows up on your doorstep
Tags: dieter being a pathetic loser, drug mention, angst WC: 703
A/N: This is my entry for @freelancearsonist's ABBA Drabble Challenge. I could have gone smutty with this, but I went angsty instead. I may still write the smut version later idk.
Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi
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You sit down on your couch with a glass of wine, settling in for a nice evening of watching mindless TV. Your phone starts buzzing – Dieter Bravo is calling you. You’ve removed his contact, but you couldn’t ever bring yourself to block the number you know by heart. You hit the red Fuck You button and toss your phone to the side. 
Throughout an entire episode of some shitty reality show, your phone lights up with texts. You finally pick it up to read them:
Please answer the phone
Its Dieter 
I miss u
Can u call me pls?
Baby
Baby
Baby
Baby ]:
Just as you’re about to tell him to fuck off, your doorbell rings. You check the ring camera and see that he’s standing on your fucking porch. You hope LA suddenly has a cold snap and he freezes to death out there. Okay, maybe that’s a little harsh. But he could stand to lose a toe or two. 
He rings the doorbell again – starts just continuously pressing the button until the sound drives you so crazy you have to open the door. And he’s standing there looking like an abandoned puppy in his brown fuzzy coat and a pair of basketball shorts that are too long. You used to find his disheveled appearance endearing, but now it just adds to how pathetic he seems. 
“You have 10 seconds to explain where you found the audacity to show up at my house, Bravo.”
He winces at your icy tone, brow furrowing over those pretty brown eyes. He tugs a few strands of his hair, making it stick up even more.
“Baby, just let me in and I’ll explain everything.”
“No. Explain here.”
Dieter sighs, world weary, long and drawn out. You go to close the door on him, but he shoves a croc covered foot into the crack before you can get it closed. 
“Wait!”
You open the door enough to see him, but not enough to let him push his way inside the house. 
“What happened with your new girl, Dieter?” 
“She wasn’t you.”
For a second you almost believe him. Almost. But liars never change. 
“Don’t give me that bullshit. What actually happened?”
“What do you think happened?” He mutters, rolling his eyes. 
“I think you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants, as usual, and she got fed up.” 
“Yeah? Well. Maybe you’re right,” his tone shifts to something like shame, his face turning red. “Are you gonna let me in?”
“Oh absolutely not. You really think you can show up here after getting dumped for cheating on the girl you cheated on me with? Do you think I’m stupid?” 
“No,” his brow furrows even deeper. “Of course not. I just thought–”
“It must be so hard for you. All the drugs and pretty people you could ever desire and all you ever do is fuck it up. You’re a disaster. A fucking disgrace. I bet your mamá is real fuckin proud of you. Get out of my face, Dieter. Get off my porch. Go fuck someone else’s life up.”
You slam the door in his face and start crying immediately. The tears come faster than you can wipe them from your face, leaving tracks down your cheeks. 
You loved him, you really did. Maybe you still do. But you can’t put yourself through that bullshit again.  
–-
Dieter slumps down on the doorstep, not quite ready to accept defeat. He thinks you’ll come out soon, offer him a cup of tea and a snack, maybe cuddle with him on the couch. 
His life is a mess, but the one good thing he’s ever had was you. He lost you and it was completely his fault. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get over you. He needs to win you back, prove he can be a good person, a good partner. 
He leans back against the door, prepping for an uncomfortable night – sober and stuck outside. He falls asleep eventually and wakes with the sunrise. You never came out to get him. Didn’t even offer him a blanket. You are well and truly done with him, and he only has himself to blame.
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laurikarauchscat · 3 days
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Hiii there! I saw on one of your posts that Emralt was a woah-tp of yours and I was wondering if you had any recs 🥹👉👈. I’ve only read astolat’s stuff and I’ve been dying to find more. I hope you have a wonderful week! ❤️
Bruh you just made my day!
So: Since Emralt is a ship burdened by being rather niche, and had in the past fallen prey to the scorn of fandom morallists, the universe had decided to reward us for our patience and dedication by giving us some of the best writers in fandom.
You can literally just go into the Emhyr/Geralt tag on Ao3 and move from last page (27) foreward. I swear you will find gold on nearly every page. Please please please do that 🙏. I am about to share some of what you have to look forward to, but there are going to be some great works that I miss. Here goes:
Category 1: Bottom Geralt I have a strong preference for subby Emhyr, so the rest of the list is going to be very much that. Nonetheless, these works I loved so much!
The ride into obsession series by @do-androids-dream-ao3acc this author has many works in the fandom - all worth a read. I have been wounded, I have been healed being my favourite.
Dark Mettinna - by Crunad. More Geralt!wump. Very very sweet.
Category 2: fluffy and sweet
Anything by @xpityx (and there are many, bless this writer 🙌) - this one in particular tho. Oohh and this one !!
@traumschwinge has smutty works, and they are veeery hot, but by God, the tenderness is what they do best. This one is my favourite. They also have some wonderful modern Au's 😁. [This one is smutty so should be Cat 3, but again - the sweetness is the draw]
In the footsteps of the Sun - a classic. Oh my god.
what is my body [if it is not a blade] - Geralt accidentally hurts Emhyr. Angst ensues.
Not for Amateurs - old men being stupid.
My fair witcher - fucking hilarious
Category 3: Bottom Emhyr
Is it the blood - emhyr has a gore kink 😁
Royal Grade Secret - features Emhyr who shuts up and does what he is told for once.
Prickly - Emhyr gets turned into a literal hedgehog. It's adorable🤩. Smut in the last chapters (with Human Emhyr!!)
touching the sun - this is part of a slow burn series. Beautiful 😍
wiosna - first part of a recent series that ruled my life for a couple of weeks (holy shit the smut🔥🔥🔥🔥. Holy shit the angst 😭😭😭)
@queenofyumcha has very many smutty wonders. This one is my favourite. Features Omega!Emhyr.
Category 4: In defiance of Category
The Surprise - mpreg!Emhyr. I hope people make this man be pregnant more often in the future 👀
State of mind by @bittersweetbark - this autor also has many works in the fandom, but this one is my favourite. fluffy mystery. Features smut and both Emhyr!wump and Geralt!wump 😈😈😈
--------
I left off soooo many beautiful works 😭😭😭 but I have to go study now!
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tswwwit · 1 year
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do they ever just…make out. like lay there for half an hour and just do it for the hell of it. or are they like hmm but we COULD be fucking let’s do that
Of course they do! It just wouldn't be very interesting to read.
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agent-troi · 8 months
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ugh i wanna write a new fic but my only ideas are long multi chapter endeavors and i just finished squeezing one out so i’m tired lol
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fairy-angel222 · 1 month
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𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
—in which toji is constantly fucking women and disturbing your peace. your complaints lead to you becoming one of them.
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pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! college reader
cw: smut, breeding, daddy kink, size kink, age gap, toji being a cocky prick, unsafe sex, ass slapping, mentions of cervix touching
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Ever since you heard about your next door neighbor Mr. Fushiguro going through a divorce, things have been hell. For you.
From the day he first moved into the apartment, constantly arguing on the phone with his ex wife about whose turn it was to watch his son, Megumi.
When Megumi is over, everything’s quiet, and you finally get a chance to rest your head and relax in peace. Doing some studying and cleaning in the quiet atmosphere.
You wished the black haired boy would stay for just a day longer, because Toji is back to his usual self hours later. Bringing in young college girls one after the other. Fucking them hard against his headboard as they let out loud cries of daddy. It was annoying. You could even stay inside anymore to get work done.
At every hour of the day he seemed to be active, fucking through all sorts of women, the shaking of your thin bedroom wall never coming to an end as high pitched moans echoed through.
It was getting to the point where you couldn’t take it. You were so fed up. Didn’t he ever get tired? Tired of promising these young desperate girls to call them back only to throw away their numbers and fuck their friends the next day.
Weeks go by and nothing changes, Megumi coming over for a silent three days then leaving again. Giving his father enough time to fuck any feelings for his ex wife out of his system.
You swore you couldn’t take it, you had barely been able to study, occasionally spending an hour or two in a nearby café between classes. When you noticed your grades slipping, your eyes having prominent bags at the lack of sleep, you groan loudly in frustration. Finding your legs moving before you could even process it.
Your fist raising to knock on the man’s door once, then twice, with no answer. You huffed, going in to knock a third time before the door swung open. A tall, muscular man towering over you with a scowl. “What?”
Your eyes widened as you scanned over his body, his perfectly sculpted face, broad shoulders, defined abs, and the very distinct outline in his sweats.
The man cleared his throat, a smirk gracing his face when he startled you out of your intense drooling. “Now, what do we have here?” he chuckled deeply, tilting his head to the side with crossed arms as he rested against the door’s frame. “Here to get your turn doll?”
You gulped, finding it harder to spit out your words as the Fushiguro man stared you down. “I.. I’m here to ask you to keep the noise down, some people have actual work to do.”
Toji whistled, “Oh? A bold one huh? I like it,” His hand reaching under your chin to make you look fully up at him. “you’re a pretty little thing you know,” he spoke, running his thumb along your bottom lip, “wonder what you’d look like ruined underneath me.”
You ignored the flutter that went off in your pussy, clenching your thighs discreetly as you glared. “Just keep the noise down okay old man? I'm trying to study.”
Toji could feel his cock grow harder, you were just what he needed. “So i’m an old man now? That’s a first, usually girls like you just call me daddy.” he shrugged, “but it’s okay, you’ll get there.”
You rolled your eyes as you walked away from him, annoyance written all over your face to mask the arousal swirling in your stomach. He’d probably fucked the entire neighborhood by now, including the campus, so you weren’t gonna fall for his sick charms. You just hoped he complied and kept the place quiet, you didn’t need that usual noise the day before your big test.
Toji had surprisingly did as you asked, and you sighed in content as you read through the pages of your notes. Your pen in your hand finding itself in between your teeth as you bit down softly. You got what you wanted, so why was your mind running wild with thoughts of the Fushiguro man’s hands on your body as he fucked you like all of those other girls.
You shifted in your seat, one leg over the other to bring stimulation to your needy clit making you whimper softly. You couldn’t let yourself give in.
Another week passed and you once again found yourself in the same noisy predicament. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the man more than twice your age. Way too old for you yet just so.. hot. Toji Fushiguro had become your fantasy.
And it was unbearable.
Hearing all these moans day and night. Hearing Toji’s loud grunts and groans as he no doubt left them with the best fuck of their lives.
It was Thursday, and Megumi would be coming tomorrow per routine, so you’d finally get a break then. But, you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted an excuse to go over there. Your face serious as you banged on his door.
You waited a minute, a shirtless Toji emerging into the door frame as it flew open. Toji smirked, “Ah, you again.” His sweatpants hung dangerously low beneath the start of his v line, black hair messy as his tongue darted out to swipe across his lips. “Finally came to your senses?”
His last fuck had left right before you came, coincidentally of course.
“N-no.” you objected sternly. “I’m here to ask you again to just be.. what are yo-“
You swallowed hard when he began stalking towards you, a sinister grin on his face as you were backed up against a wall. His breath fanned your head as he bent his neck. Hands on the walls near each side of your face. “Your face says otherwise, doll.”
“No it d-doesn’t.. you’re just a cocky old man preventing me from getting things done.”
Toji’s brow raised with a deep hearty chuckle, “Back to that nickname i see,” His hand grabbing hold of your cheeks and squeezing them together. “Gonna have to clean that mouth of yours, teach you how to be a good girl.”
You whimpered lowly, feeling wetness pool between your legs as you looked up through your lashes. Toji’s eyes trailing to your glossy lips as he inhaled sharply. “Don’t worry, this dirty old man’s lips are clean”
Pressing his lips roughly to yours, your eyes widening as you gripped the edge of your skirt with a moan. Toji smirked against your lips, his hands hooking beneath your legs as he lifted you up. Your frame so much smaller in comparison to his larger one.
Toji was quick to bring you inside. And you found yourself sitting on the man’s lap, your skirt bunched up at your hips as he hammered up into your wet cunt with brute force. His hands kneading into the flesh of your ass each time you ground your hips onto him.
You let out a loud mewl, his thick cock stretching you out and grazing against your gummy walls as he fucked you deep. Feeling him within your stomach when you cried out. “Fushiguro-san— ah, so- ngh g-ood.”
“That’s not my name doll, try again.” he growled deeply, landing his palm onto your ass in a hard slap. And you whimpered tearfully at the sting. “T-toji—” Another harsh smack burning through your flesh making you let out a cry. “Last chance.”
You moaned loudly, your back arching as Toji slammed into you. “D-daddy, ahh daddy, o-oh fuckk—,”
Toji hummed in satisfaction, “Look at you, thought i was a dirty old man hmm?” His teeth biting softly at the delicate skin of your neck, his pelvis hitting your red puffy folds relentlessly. “Moaning for me like a little slut, so fucking pretty.”
You let out a shaky cry, “Haah— F-fushiguro-san,” Your pussy clenched down on his girth, his rough hand making its way around your throat, squeezing the sides and forcing you to look at him. “Not gonna fucking tell you again.”
You mewled, “‘M sorry— nngh,” Your back arching when Toji bullied his cock deeper into you.
“Still waiting doll.” he grunted, eyes dark as his grip on your throat tightened, your moans and whimpers loud as his thighs noisily met your sticky cunt. “D-addy— ahh- so good,” you cried, feeling his angry tip forcing its way to your cervix, kissing the entrance with each harsh thrust.
“Good fucking girl, you’re getting there” he grinned with a groan. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, your pussy gushing messily onto him as loud squelching sounds filled the room. “Pussy’s so fucking tight— better be on the pill cause i’m botta cum in that pretty pussy, shit.”
“Ah— nngh daddy, ‘m close- gonna cum.” you whimpered, your eyes rolling back and your lips parting in a string of incoherent babbles, Toji’s thrusts sloppy as he groaned.
“Gonna cum on this old man’s dick yeah?” He teased cockily, “Had so much talk for someone who’s falling apart on my cock.” Toji grunted, “Bet ya sat there listening like a lil perv, your hand down your panties hmm?”
You shook your head no with a cry, “Uh uh- ahh— wasn’t.”
“Sure about that? Sure you didn’t sit there and fantasize about me fucking you like a little slut?” His hand reached down to rub at your clit, a loud moan escaping your mouth.
Your breathing sped up as you felt a coil buildup in your stomach. Your body shaking with pure ecstasy. You let out a high pitched scream, the stimulation to your g spot making your head go fuzzy. Vision turning white as you clenched down tightly on Toji’s cock.
“O-oh fuck— ‘m cumming— ah, cumming daddy.” Toji’s hand pressed down harder on your throat, the pressure restricting your air flow making you let out a choked mewl. Tears welling in your eyes as his heavy balls smacked against your ass.
“Nngh—” The ring of white thickened at his base as you let out whiny cries. Toji’s hand working small circles on the sensitive bud before he brought his lips to your ear. His voice deep and gruff as he groaned. “Fuck doll- squeezing me so tight, come on and scream for me.” He breathed, “make a mess on my cock.”
Toji’s mean pace became too much, a tight pull in your stomach as your mouth fell open, legs trembling with loud cries as an unfamiliar feeling washed over you.
It was heavenly, your brain going dumb and your pupils disappearing behind heavy lids as you screamed loudly, head falling back and nails digging into his shoulders as you fell off the edge.
Toji never slowing the movement of his hips, still hammering up into you despite the mess you were making on his thighs. Your pussy spraying streams after streams of clear liquid as you arched your hips, grinding back and forth to ride out your squirting orgasm.
“Even fucking louder than any of my previous fucks.” he laughed, “Wonder what the neighbors would say, went from being a whiny little bitch to being the same thing you complained about.”
You let out a whine, Toji flipping you abruptly onto your back, his hand still around your neck as the position allowing him to hit even deeper. “Fuck,” he grunted, his words in between each thrust. “gonna fucking breed that pussy so deep.” Letting out a low groan at the last thrust, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy kiss as he bottomed out.
A whimper fell past your lips into his when you felt him fill you up, his cum shooting in hot thick spurts along the walls of your cunt.
He smirked as he pulled away, watching you pant heavily. “Would make such a good breeding bunny.” Dipping his fingers past your lips and resting them on the back of your tongue. “Might have to keep you around, can’t be disturbed if you’re the one making the noise now can you?”
You shook your head tiredly, forcing your eyes to stay open as Toji pulled out of you. His sticky cum seeping out of your fluttering pussy slowly. Your brain was still so clouded, blinking in and out of blurry vision.
Toji hid the smile threatening to creep up onto his face, his face neutral as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. “Rest if you need to, then leave.” He said nonchalantly, trying to seem like his usual self despite the fact that he had not kicked you out yet. Which was something he never did, let a girl stay any longer than a second after sex.
The man would never admit it, but there was just something about you.
He wanted to make you his pretty little doll.
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