#without thinking & received a sarcastic reply to

[queers-gambit]

Tell Me Every Terrible Thing

[ part one of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!Hightower!reader only description given: red hair

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.6k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (brief female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part two: "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, And Let Me Love You Anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"How angry do you think he'll be with me?"

You offered your best friend, The Realm's Delight, Crowned Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, a unamused, stale look. Sarcastically, you replied, "Oh, come now, Nyrie, why would your father be angry? It couldn't be because you rejected every suitor His Grace put before you, or even how you abruptly ended the tour with two months remaining. What father would be angry after that?"

She groaned, "I know, I know, you don't have to be so right all the bloody time. I just... I couldn't do it anymore, you saw what it was like," her head bowed and you knew the girl was truly overwhelmed by her 'job' picking a suitor.

"This was no easy feat to arrange, Princess," you spoke diplomatically, aware of the ship's crew dotting around the royal ship. "Our fathers went through much difficulty to ensure this tour's success, Princess, and I'd imagine neither will be thrilled by our early arrival."

"But it's just - "

"I know," you soothed with a knowing, sympathetic smile. Your arm extended around her, her head dropping to your shoulder for comfort. "In an ideal world, women would have a real say in their futures. Perhaps, that is what you're meant to do, Nyrie... Perhaps you're meant to break this wheel, give the other half of humanity a fighting chance against the men who have long suppressed us. Being heir is a monumental stereotype to shatter, but most women are not born into royalty and have nobody protecting or defending them."

She picked her head up to stare at you for a single moment, then nodded slowly, "That's a lot of pressure."

"Less if you pick a respectable man to help you lead," you advised softly, reaching to caress her cheek briefly. "You're to be Queen, Nyra, which means you need a King Consort that the common folk will respect, who will play his part in the courts to come. I know it's not ideal, my friend, but it's not meant to be - it's meant to be strategic." You paused, adding, "Similar to Ali marrying your father, yes? That was a strategic move on my father's end. Now it's up to you to chose your own match, to plot your own strategy."

"Who would you see me marry?"

"In truth? I'm unsure if anyone would fit the bill perfectly, so, I don't know who I could see you with. Definitely someone smart, though."

She only hummed, sighing deeply and making you frown. Before another word could be said, there came a distant screech that sounded all too familiar - though you refused to let it show that you knew this particular dragon's sound.

Nyra moved away from the ship's railing to stare longingly up into the sky, and about a minute later, without visible sight of any threat, Ser Criston Cole was shouting, "Take cover!"

And then, like a bird swooping to snatch a fish, a crimson dragon descended from the cover of clouds - seemingly materializing from nowhere. The large, long, slithery beast with wings knocked into the ship's main mast; jolting everyone on board enough to topple over.

You tried to stabilize the Princess, but you lost balance and dropped to your knees as Cole rushed to help Rhaenyra to her feet. When able, you looked to the sky; grinning to yourself as you recognized the retreating Blood Wyrm. Seeing the distinct form of Caraxes made you giddy with anticipation, however, that was short lived as you clocked Rhaenyra's gaze of awe and wonder.

It seems she was excited for her uncle's return, too. Though, it won't be till later that you learn the extent of her adoration.

Less than an hour later, the ship was docking and you escorted Princess Rhaenyra from aboard; her guards surrounding you both as you trekked to the Red Keep. "Just... Perhaps try to stay invisible," you advised your friend, arm-in-arm. "The King won't be pleased if you interrupt court, even just by being there. With luck, we won't be noticed."

She agreed softly, continuing on. She started fiddling with her necklace, the piece of Valyrian Steel jewelry that her uncle, Daemon, had gifted her years ago before Queen Aemma passed away. Your lover had told you the Princess was owed a piece of her Valyrian history, and since he could not gift a sword to a young lady, the necklace was chosen, crafted, and gifted.

When you returned to the Red Keep, it was just in time for court to be called to session and your friend was all too eager to join. "Nyra," you warned, hand in hers.

"It's all right," she assured, "come, it must be Daemon - "

"No, I should return to my chamber. Don't piss your father off too much," you warned her with a smirk, watching her grin in response, squeeze your hand, and then file into the Throne Room with the other members of court.

You retreated to your old room, sighing in relief when you discovered nothing was disturbed. "My Lady!" A voice gasped at the open door. You glanced over, smiling at Milah, your usual handmaiden, and opening your arms when she rushed forward. "You're not supposed to be back yet! Oh!" She tutted, looking you over. "I'll get your bed made and - "

"No, it's fine - "

"Nonsense, let me do this," she insisted, already busying around the room. "I was wondering why they were bringing things into the foyer - must be all the Princess' luggage, hmm?"

"Yeah," you sighed, helping her strip the bed and change the sheets. "It was strange," you admitted, "the men, I mean, and the way they all competed for her hand in marriage."

"Did you expect anything else?"

"I did not think they'd honestly kill one another. Though it was more so their pride than the Princess they fought over."

Milah smirked, "Sounds about right. Well, what of you? Anyone catch your eye?"

"Of course not," you sighed a little sadly.

"Still hung on the Prince, aren't you, my Lady?"

"Perhaps," you mused.

You spent the better part of an hour gossiping with Milah before she had to go grab a few things, but promised she'd send your belongings up as soon as possible. You thanked her, walked her out, assuring you were just going to get a bath or something, and just as you shut and locked your chamber door, gasped when a pair of hands seized your waist.

"Daemon!" You hissed when you saw the short, white locks of your surprise guest. "The bloody fuck is wrong with you?" You demanded, turning in his grip to shove your hands into his chest. "What're you doing here? Want to get us caught?"

"Three years," he grit, gathering you in his arms to heave upward and force your legs around his waist if you wanted to keep balance, "three fucking years I've been gone - away - missing you, do not deprive me a moment more."

"Someone will come looking," you whispered, caressing his face as your forehead met his. "And perhaps I want a moment to just look at you, 's been years," you breathed. "You cut your hair," you commented, running your hands through the short strands.

"I cut my hair," he agreed softly, just holding you close and tight.

"I like it... But I'll miss braiding it."

"I will, too," he admitted. He nuzzled closer, inhaling your neck sharply, boldly licking a flat tongue up your pulse point to make you shudder lightly.

"Daemon," you whispered, pulling his head back so you could look in his eyes, beaming, "I missed you, too."

"Viserys is arranging a lunch for my return," he informed, turning so he could approach your newly-made four-poster bed; dropping you flat on your back with a grin. "Which roughly translates into only allotting a few minutes to make up for lost time."

"We will have time later - "

"I overheard Viserys saying he and Otto intend to take evening tea with you regarding the Princess' return from tour," he eased, reaching to spread your legs, bunching your skirts. "But I will call upon you tomorrow? Yes? Officially?"

"If you insist," you teased, letting him finally descend to smash his lips against yours. In truth, you were used to his empty promises of 'calling on you officially' because of his marriage to Lady Royce, but it was his way of telling you without words that he wished it was you instead of Rhea.

Daemon groaned, melting into your form; breathing heavily. "I've missed you past words," he whispered, nuzzling your nose with his. "But for now, I just need a taste - "

"We don't have time - "

"We'll be fast. Tell me, love," he nipped your pouting lips, soothing his tongue over the puckered skin, "have you taken another in my absence?"

"Of course not," you hissed in offense.

"Good," he nodded, kissing you sweetly.

"Need I ask?"

"There were no concubines," he mused, "though, they were offered, I did not accept. So, we'll be quick - faster than quick," he promised, pawing at your undergarments and exposing your dampening cunt to his sight. "I'll take my time with you later, but for now, I need this," he all but seethed before diving tongue-first into your core.

His spit mixed with your arousal, creating a slippery mess.

"Shit," you hissed, grabbing his shorter hair as his tongue flattened to lap at your entrance, dripping in your essence. One of his hands held your thighs apart for his access, the other releasing his cock from the pair of breeches he wore. Daemon groaned at the taste of you, lapping wildly like a man starved, and stroking his bare cock in rhythm with his ministrations.

It truly took no time at all once he found your clit and sucked mercilessly, the hand holding your thighs now extended up to paw roughly at your tits. Alternating his tongue around your sloppy cunt added to your heightening pleasure, swirling his tongue as he bobbed and shook his head - making an absolute mess, and causing your climax to shatter your mind and soul.

Your legs twitched, spine curled, stomach contracted as your arms quivered from the rush of adrenaline; hand slapped over your mouth to keep your moans to a minimum. You grabbed his hair so tightly, he groaned in mock pain; legs then contracting to a suffocating grip around his ears and head while Daemon met his own end, spending in his hand whilst milking you for all you had.

He panted with satisfaction when he pulled back, grinning at you in mischief when you released your hold on him. "Good fuckin' girl," he praised, standing to his feet only to slither over top of you. "Like not a day's gone by, huh?" He whispered, kissing you messily, smearing your cum on your tongue; grinding his bare cock into your recovering core to make you shudder. "Take a moment, then get ready," he whispered. "I expect to see you at the celebrations... Wear that dress I got you for your fifth-and-twentieth nameday," he smirked, adding, "if you'd so please, my darling."

You chuckled, "You magically learned manners during the war?"

"Perhaps," he mused, pecking your lips again.

"Hey, Daemon?"

"What is it, my sweet one?" He asked, seeing the sincerity in your eyes and hearing the seriousness in your voice - something in his heart jumping.

"Would you tell me about it all later? The war, I mean? Would you tell me what you've endured?"

"I do not think it's a tale befitting a lady's ears."

"Please? I wish to know..."

"Then I will tell you," he promised, "but only if you wear that dress."

Your eyes rolled in humor as Daemon stood. You watched him wipe his cum on a spare rag, tossing it away, and after one last kiss, was leaving out of the secret passageway's door. Taking another moment, you finally stood on weak legs and unlocked the main door, preparing how you could for your day before Milah returned.

After arriving at the luncheon, you made a beeline for your father, greeting him happily before explaining your surprise reappearance. He filled you in on that day's court, explaining that Prince Daemon was back; and you felt almost guilty for the way your skin was still set ablaze from your lover's earlier visit.

For all Otto's faults, he was still your father, and you felt guilty for sneaking around with Daemon behind his back. Your father ushered you off to mingle, insisting he was only there for the King; and no, he wasn't hungry. So, you parted ways with a chaste peck to your forehead; the feeling of his scratchy beard lingering on your guilt-riddled flesh.

"Sister, what a surprise!" Alicent happily distracted by greeting you with a bright grin. You adjusted course to approach the Queen, King, and newly-returned Prince. "Oh, what a lovely dress you've chosen," she complimented with ease, reaching for your hand. "You always do have the best eye for clothes, I feel as if need you to live in my wardrobe, tell me what to wear everyday."

"Thank you, Your Grace, I'd be honored," You smiled at her, holding her hand, looking to the others. "My King," you curtsied to Viserys, glancing at Daemon and bowing your head respectfully, "my Prince, how nice to see you, again. Welcome home."

"Thank you, my Lady," he smirked. "Might I welcome you home as well? I hear you've been gone from the Capital."

You hummed with a nod, "I was on tour with the Princess, my Prince. I've only arrived home today, as well - though not by dragonback."

He eyed you up and down, offering, "I must agree with the Queen, my Lady, that is a lovely dress you've chosen."

You pet the black material, smiling genuinely, "Thank you, my Prince. It's one of my favorites."

"I can see why, given how beautiful you look," he flirted, and from behind you and Alicent, you could hear your father scoff.

"Thank you," you whispered. "What conversation did I rudely interrupt before?"

"Oh, nothing of importance," Daemon told you, looking to his brother and your sister.

"Because we spoke of how Daemon, here, was always Mother's favorite," Viserys grinned. "Do you want to know, my Lady? About how much Mother adored Daemon?" He asked you, his little brother trying to drone over him - but Viserys was determined to tell you the examples he could think of regarding his brother's favoritism.

You giggled from both Viserys' stories and Daemon's evident embarrassment.

However, almost awkwardly, on Alicent's other side, Princess Rhaenyra approached the group and stood amongst you. You knew the King must be unhappy with his daughter, but did not voice any opinion since you were not the source of disappointment at the moment. Instead, you listened to the King's complimenting words to his brother; thinking it was interesting that Daemon was so egotistical and yet, flushed under his brother's praise. Princess Rhaenyra waited until a natural lull to tell Daemon, "Congratulations on your victory."

It was awkward as Viserys just glared at her, Rhaenyra's expression falling short. Daemon covered smoothly, "Thank you, Princess."

Trying to save the tension, your sweet sister offered, "Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery? He hasn't yet seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor."

Viserys nodded and whispered, "Oh, oh," mockingly. He asked his brother, "Would you like to see the tapestries?" But by the end, he broke character and laughed with his brother; the latter who whom you knew spat on trivial things - such as tapestries and such. Through their laughter, Viserys proclaimed to his wife, "He has no interest in such things!"

"But thank you for the offer, sister," you smiled at her, trying to reassure her when her husband laughed in her face. "The tapestries are very beautiful, you've chosen a grand place to display them. I saw them on my way here."

"I'd like to see them," Rhaenyra jumped in, seemingly to Alicent's aid - something she'd not done in an age considering the tension between them. You just smiled politely, seeing the way Viserys dropped his grin when he looked at his daughter with distain while the rest of you looked away sheepishly.

"Then you should not deprive yourself."

Rhaenyra offered a pained, pursed smile, "I shall enjoy them alone."

You, Alicent, and Daemon all stared after Rhaenyra with varying degrees of pity as she walked away to sit solemnly by herself on a distant bench while Viserys went on about his and Daemon's youth; over Daemon being their mother's favorite. However, Alicent excused herself to follow the saddened Rhaenyra, perhaps to offer the Princess comfort in her father's anger. The King looked ready to protest, but instead just shook his head in disappointment.

Viserys turned you and Daemon away from the sight of the girls, showing off the Godswood in bloom; your father approaching you three stiffly. "Your Grace," he bowed to Viserys, then nodded in resepct, "my Prince. Daughter," he smiled, trying to instigate, "how was tour with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"Oh, as eventful as a Royal Tour can be," you smiled, deflecting, "though I must admit, while seemingly exciting at some parts, I'm sure it pales terribly in comparison to the Prince's adventures in the Stepstones." Viserys smirking broadly at your redirection. "I do wonder, what brought the war to an end? We've heard rumor, but surely the Prince might know for sure what brought the Triarchy down?"

"Surely," The King nodded, looking to Daemon expectedly.

The Rogue Prince smirked and readjusted his stance, deflecting, "Perhaps a conversation for later."

"Oh, come now, brother!"

"Your Grace," Otto interrupted, "I do apologize, but there are matters at hand that require your attention. The Tully's still - "

He sighed and waved your father off, "Yes, yes... Well," Viserys nodded, "I'll call upon you both later."

"Your Grace," you instantly curtsied.

"Your Grace," Daemon bowed right after. Viserys smiled and nodded back at you both, patted his brother's shoulder, turned, and when he walked away, Otto followed with a single look to you and Daemon.

"Daughter," he bid curtly - and you read between the lines. He really wanted to say, "Do not linger around the Prince."

When the King moved, his usual procession of advisors, guards, and entourage followed right after. You sighed as almost all of the Godswood cleared out, Daemon eyeing you as he readjusted his stance; subtly reaching out to pet your hand with his fingers.

"Daemon," you warned quietly.

"Nobody is watching us," he smirked. "You look beautiful, love. I'll have to buy you more dresses, you wear them so well."

"I cannot believe I will not see you tonight," you whispered with a pout.

"I will call on you tomorrow," he reminded.

You opened your mouth, but another voice answered. "Sister," Alicent called, you looking over and smiling innocently. You caught sight of Princess Rhaenyra glaring at her uncle, but didn't think much of it.

"I look forward to your tales from the Stepstones," you told him calmly, offering a curtesy.

He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back, "I look forward to any time spect together, my Lady."

You hummed in contentment before stepping away, instantly taking Alicent's arm when close enough. "What was that about? Daemon looks so smitten!" She whispered with a growing grin.

"He was being polite," you whispered back, "and simply being Daemon - you know how he is. He's got three years of mischief to make up for."

"I see," she giggled. "He's quite handsome with the short hair, isn't he? It suits him well."

"I have to agree," you gossiped. "I can see why the ladies of court have missed him so."

Your younger sister giggled, smiling at you, offering, "I've missed you greatly. Come... I wish to hear of your time away."

"Oh, sister, please, I've only just returned."

"But... Wouldn't you tell me before the King?" She whispered.

You paused, then nodded, "Got me there, sister-dearest."

"We'll take tea together," she decided, leading you around the Keep until she saw a familiar face she knew. "Talya, my sister and I wish to take tea in the gardens, please. Privately, of course, so do not announce it," she directed the handmaiden. "We'll be in the gazebo in the rose gardens, bring tea, sandwiches, and my sister's always loved those peach crumbles?"

"I know the dessert," she nodded, smiling at you. "Can I interest you, Your Grace, in anything specific?"

"No, but bring enough for us both. Come, sister."

You three parted ways, Alicent leading you to the gardens as promised. She dismissed anyone in the area, even telling her guards to wait at the front hedges to give you ideal privacy while deeper in the roses at the gazebo. While sitting, you exchanged gossip about what happened while you were away, Alicent happy to catch you up because she was happy to finally have a friend, even if it were a sister, back in her corner.

You were happy, too.

While you loved Rhaenyra, the tension between her and Ali made you feel in the middle despite both parties assuring you "you weren't". Nyra was a good friend, your best, even! But it was something about your sister that was calming and assuring. She was trustworthy to a fault, but she was still your strongest pillar.

As Talya dressed your table with tea, lemon water, sandwiches, fruits, and other foods (including the peach crumbles), you giggled at Ali's retelling of whatever failed proposals occurred this past season you were away. When alone, at last, Ali turned to you in her padded chair and asked, "Tell me in truth, how was the tour? Why did you return early?"

"In truth, sister, vying men made the Princess uncomfortable. She did not need the two months more, she knew she was unhappy with the men so far presented to her."

Alicent sighed, "So, who does she intend to marry?"

"Yes," a new voice agreed, you both jumping in shock and looking up to see Viserys approaching with your father behind him. "Who does my daughter intend to wed, Lady Hightower?"

"Your Grace," you uttered, both you and Alicent standing in respect to bow your heads.

"Please, please," he permitted you both to sit, taking the lone chair across the table as your father remained standing. "I only wish for the unfiltered truth. I know what is said, I know what is reported, I know..." He sighed, "I know what my daughter might say, but please, Lady Hightower, what is the truth of it?"

"The truth, Your Grace, is that Rhaenyra was overwhelmed. Perhaps it was too long for her that she eventually, I'm not sure, shut down? She did not care towards the end which men was presented, she was overwhelmed with the options and pace at which everything moved."

"Kings and Princes before her have done the same, many Queens and Princesses embarking on their tours to find proper suitors," Otto reminded. "Why was this different, my Lady?"

"Because she is the first," you reminded. "Never before has a woman been named heir - she holds a different responsibility. Perhaps having everything thrown at her was too much, she has to filter through lesser men that would be King Consort. Nobody stood out, she became discouraged, and honestly, Your Grace?" You spoke earnestly, "I think it just made her sad. She did not want to disappoint you by choosing a man not worthy of being her King, so, she would rather face your anger in coming home early."

Alicent frowned but nodded to herself.

Otto adverted his eyes.

Viserys looked dejected, but sighed, "I see... Thank you for your words, my Lady, truly, you've always been a trustworthy advisor to the Queen, Princess, and I."

"It's the least I can do, Your Grace, since you and Queen Aemma - you - you were so kind to me when Mother passed. And Rhaenyra - to both Alicent and I - she was a true friend. I am in debt to you, Your Grace, and whatever I can do, be it just a simple different perspective, I am happy to provide."

"Well," he considered, "in the spirit of your unfiltered perspective, who would you see Rhaenyra marry?"

You blinked in shock, "Oh, Your Grace, I-I am not qualified to say."

"You serve as my Master of Whispers, do you not?" He smirked. "Speak, please."

You sighed deeply. With a small gulp, you blinked twice, then admitted, "I do not think my opinion matters, but... It would make sense to marry her to Ser Laenor Velaryon, would it not? He's a warrior who survived the Stepstones, is of Valyrian stock and blood, rides the dragon, Seasmoke. He's kind, brave, true, unmarried, heir to Driftmark. I think when it comes to filling the position of King Consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon would make a fine candidate."

Apparently, this was all Viserys needed to hear.

You could not sleep that night. You could not explain why, but something foul was in the air and prevented you from drifting off. So, you chose to browse your private library, select a literary favorite, and stroll the deadened halls of the Red Keep; reading by flickering torch light.

Good thing you were up and out, because one of your Little Birds chirped at you from the shadows. You looked around to see nobody in the hall, but another chirp directed your attention to a darkened alcove. "Hmm, oh, Kaela," you hummed, approaching her slowly and bending at the waist. "What is it, child?"

"I came as fast as I could."

"What's wrong?"

"I've seen something - something you'll want to know," she glanced up and down the hall, "but not anyone else."

"Come," you whispered, pushing her further back into the dark and sheltering yourselves safely. Once knelt before her, you asked the child, "All right. What is it you have seen, little one?"

"Do not get angry, my Lady..."

"I promise I won't," you spoke softly, confused - you never got angry at your Little Birds... Why start now?

"I-I saw... I saw the Prince Daemon and... Princess Rhaenyra."

You nodded slowly, asking quietly, "Where?"

"In the city, in a pleasure house."

You blinked, "And what were they doing?"

"What grown-ups do."

"I see. They were coupling?"

She shrugged, "No, just kissing, but it stopped fast. He left her there."

"He left her there? In the pleasure house?"

The little girl nodded. "The Prince looked sad... When the Princess tried to kiss him again, he pulled away... Then he left."

"Where did he go? After?"

She blinked, frowning, "My brother, Grenn, said he saw him at the pubs - but he was always on the move, very drunk. I came here right away."

"Good girl," you smiled, offering her whatever Gold Dragons from the pouch you usually kept on your person under your robe for times like this. "Where will you be tomorrow evening? I will bring you and Grenn supper."

She smiled, "We can meet you at the dock!"

"The dock?"

"He likes watching the boats."

"The docks, then. By the Fisherman's Pier?"

"No, Grenn like the Harper's Pier. They're not there around supper, they're still out at sea."

"Harper's Pier for supper," you agreed. "Go on."

The little girl looked around before scampering off down a different passageway and you stood from your knelt position with a stony look of tentative contemplation on your face. With a deep breath, you did the only thing you thought you could... You went to your father.

With a rapid knock at his chamber door, it took a moment or two before he was opening it - still dressed. "What is it, daughter?" He asked gruffly. "It's late, this should wait till morning."

"The castle is about to wake - "

"I know and I've much to attend to - "

"Father," you hissed, glancing up the hall.

He sighed and let you in, "What is it?"

"I carry scandalous news," you muttered, his door's lock echoing around you. "About the Princess Rhaenyra."

He turned to you sharply, you taking a step back in surprise. "You... Know?"

"About her sneaking around in a pleasure house?"

Otto frowned, "Do you know with who?"

You could not tell him, so you answered, "No, just that she was seen in disguise."

"Who told you this?"

"One of my Birdies."

"All right," he decided, nodding to himself, "thank you, daughter, for reporting this. I will... I will figure out what to say to the King."

"Should you say anything?"

"I'll figure it out - but now we both know."

You nodded, "So you knew before I came?"

"I was awoken an hour ago to hear this news."

You nodded slowly, "Then I will leave you to it."

"Thank you," he whispered, letting you peck his cheek in parting before slipping out of his chambers. With nothing left to do or anything else to say, you went back to your chambers as to limit your exposure to the castle's tenants.

The less that could say they saw you this night, the better.

Once safe in your chambers with a locked main door, you could do nothing else but (over)think, wishing to all the Seven Gods you didn't know what you knew. Information and knowledge was vital to maintain power, this is true, but it also made you dangerous - also a target. The more you knew, the bigger the target.

It was only a few hours after dawn when the secret passage doors to your chamber opened. You were braiding your hair, ignoring the man you knew to have the only balls to use that door - especially now.

"I've always wondered, if we had children, would they have white hair or waves of fire, like you? Perhaps something between?"

"Fuck off, Daemon."

"So, you've heard," he sighed deeply. "Won't you even look at me?"

"I can't stand the very thought of you right now, nor the actual sound, I'll lose my stomach if I have to look at you."

"Let me tell you the truth," he begged, "before I have to leave the Keep, let me tell you the truth. Let Viserys and everyone have their ideas and opinions, their lies and slander, but let me tell you!"

"Excuse me?" You asked, whirling around in your seat to glare at him fully. "Viserys banished you, again?"

"He did... Back to the Vale."

You scoffed, "Good... Your Lady wife awaits you."

"Viserys thinks I've sullied Rhaenyra's virtue. I do not need you thinking the same, so, please, let me tell you what happened - no matter how uncomfortable, please, let me tell you the truth."

"What difference does it make?"

"I can't have you thinking something more occurred. Was I tempted? Yes, but I refrained. Did I touch her? A little - but not how you think."

You sighed, shaking your head, "I don't care, you're returning to your wife in the Vale, and I will be rid of you. No matter for how long this time, you will be gone - "

"For a time, yes, but I intend to return for you."

"No, I think I'll let Father make me a match. I despised the North, it was too cold, so the handsome Cregan Stark is out. I don't mind Dorne, perhaps a Martel to marry? Or even a Tully of Riverrun?"

"Do not speak such atrocities to me."

"You're one to talk! Your niece, Daemon? The girl I consider my closest friend? You couldn't just find that whore you like and be satisfied with her? Couldn't wait a single day, could you? Huh? How fucking pathetic!"

"Perhaps you are not as close with Rhaenyra as you thought," he tisked, making you feel disarmed. He spent the next hour and a half explaining to you what happened the previous night, and despite your disgust, you just listened.

Knowledge was power.

"I will return," he sighed at the end, "and in that time, you can make your own decisions if you want me or not. But I will return and I will have you, if you will have me, and this foolishness will be behind us."

"I'll give you a single year. I will not wait for you longer than that," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I can't stand that you've done this, but I will wait one single year for you to find a way out of your marriage and back to me. Any longer than that, and I will simply move on. I do not want to live my whole life in the Red Keep, and the truth of it is, I cannot live in the Princess' shadow any longer. One year, Daemon."

"One year," he nodded, stepping closer. "My love, please - "

"Do not assume to touch me. Not after you've touched her," you snapped, stepping away. "Get out, I need to be alone, you have been banished - you need to go, you cannot be seen here." Your eyes rolled, muttering, "Probably have to go collect your whore for this banishment, too."

"Not this time," he smirked, "this time, I leave with my promise that I will return for you, my sweet Lady Hightower."

"Fuck off, you perverted Prince Daemon," you sassed, watching him slip out the door; shutting you in an echoing silence. Your heart ripped itself apart, making you wonder what the fuck you had done to deserve getting caught in such a scandalous affair. But you knew, in your heart, you'd do anything for Daemon - the thought sickening your stomach as you pondered how far this would all go.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#prince daemon targaryen #prince daemon #prince daemon targaryen x reader #prince daemon x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon #daemon x reader #daemon smut #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen fanfic #house of the dragon #daemon house of the dragon #house of the dragon daemon #house of the dragon daemon targaryen #hotd daemon #hotd daemon targaryen #daemon hotd #daemon targaryen hotd #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd imagine

[tip-top-cloud-surfer]

Left at the Altar - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / (Ex-Girlfriend) Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Light Angst; Drama; Getting Left at the Altar (Not by Hangman); Asshole Ex (Not Hangman); Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N, No Physical Description for the Reader

This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.

Summary: When you get left at the altar, a familiar face swoops in to save the day.

Edit: Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue

Master List

Ever hit rock bottom? Well, you thought you did. And then you got stood up at your own wedding.

Staring up at the altar, you slowly sat down in the front pew. You sat your bouquet down beside you and reached up to pull out the pins holding your veil in place. You definitely weren’t going to need them. Not after the text message that you received from your ex-fiancé.

That’s right. You got dumped on your wedding day through a text message.

And frankly, the part about the whole situation that annoyed you the most was the fact that you should have been the one to dump him. You were the one who threatened to call the wedding off months ago when you found some suspicious text messages between your fiancé and a woman labelled as ‘Domino’s’ in his phone.

As if anyone texted Domino’s about their secluded lake house.

You should have just pulled the plug on the whole thing when you had the chance. Instead, you let him dump and humiliate you publicly.

Taking a deep breath, you glanced around the small church. Most of the guests filed out when it became apparent that there was a runaway groom. All of the people that remained in the church were a few close friends and immediate family members.

Your ex-fiancé’s family stood awkwardly in the corner, not really sure what to do. There wasn’t a really good or efficient way to apologize for their cowardly bastard of a son without suffering some rather intense glares from your family and friends. You already gave the engagement ring back to your ex-fiancé’s mom, since it was supposedly a family heirloom.

Maybe you should have just flushed it down the toilet instead.

You looked forward again when your mom walked over to you. She gave you a small, comforting smile as she pushed your veil and bouquet to the side and sat down beside you. Your mom stared up at the altar for a moment, seemingly walking through what she was going to say to you. She reached out and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“It’ll be okay, sweetie,” she whispered to you. “You’ll get past this.”

“I know,” you replied, nodding slowly. “I know, Mom.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No,” you replied softly, shaking your head. Letting out a breath, you turned back to your mom with a composed expression. “Why don’t you and everyone else go and eat at the venue? It’d be stupid to let all of that food go to waste. We already paid for it.”

“Actually, his family offered to pay for everything. Even your dress,” your mom explained, glancing over at your supposed-to-be in laws. “They were extremely embarrassed.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you drawled sarcastically, shaking your head. You let out a breath before you turned back to your mom. “Has Dad calmed down?”

“Somewhat. He calmed down a lot when they offered to pay for everything. But I worry for your ex if he ever crosses paths with your father again.”

“If he’s smart—which he’s not—he’ll avoid the entire county,” you replied, pursing your lips together. “He’s probably sitting at his lake house with ‘Domino’s’ right now.”

“That’s unfortunate for him,” your mom told you, causing you to nod in return.

“Damn straight.”

You and your mom shared a small smile before you sobered up for a moment. Glancing around the church, you leaned back in your pew. You turned to your mom and suddenly felt like you were a teenager again and needed her to help you with a situation that you got yourself in.

“Do you think that I could be alone for a bit?” you asked softly, folding your arms across your lap.

“Are you sure? I don’t think that you should be alone right now, sweetheart,” your mom replied, grabbing your hand. “Why don’t you just come to the venue with the rest of us? You can burn the dress if you want to, but just come with us.”

“I will, Mom, but I just need some time by myself for a little bit.”

Albeit reluctantly, your mom got up and ushered everyone else out of the church to give you some time alone. The venue was only ten minutes down the road, so your mom told you to just text her when you wanted to be picked up. You thanked her again for all of her help and support before she left with everyone else.

You slowly got to your feet after you thought that everyone else was gone. You let out a breath to calm yourself down and simply worked through some thoughts. Eventually turning for the aisle, you paused when you spotted a familiar figure walking through the church doorway.

Jake Seresin. Or Jacob Michael Seresin III, if you were going by his birth name. Or Hangman, as he supposedly went by these days. Lieutenant Jake “Hangman” Seresin.

The boy that you fell in love with when you were fifteen. Your high school boyfriend, your first love, your first everything, really. The man that, had he stayed in Texas and taken over his family’s business like he was expected to do, you probably would have already married.

But life wasn’t a fairytale. And certainly not your life.

Jake slowly walked further into the church, pulling off his dress white cap as he stepped forward. He tucked it under his arm and offered you a small smile as he stopped in front of you. His hair was perfectly gelled and styled and his dress whites were absolutely pristine. And that genuine smile, the one that he seemed to use less and less as he aged, was just like you remembered.

He looked like he stepped straight out of a dream. Out of your dream.

“I’m not too late, am I?” he asked, looking around the otherwise empty church.

“No,” you scoffed, shaking your head. You glanced up at the rafters before turning back to him. “I got left at the altar.”

Instantly, the kind, genuine smile dropped from Jake’s face. His whole demeanor changed in an instant. He frowned and opened his mouth before pausing, most likely trying to not just blurt out the first words that came to mind in a church. But his entire stance looked like he was ready to storm out of the church to drag your fiancé out of whatever hole he was hiding in.

“He didn’t show up?” Jake asked with his voice dangerously low.

“No, he sent me a text,” you explained quietly. Letting out a laugh that was meant to be humorous, but was really rather pathetic in reality, you looked away from Jake for a moment. “I mean, at least I didn’t marry him. It could be worse.”

“Where is he then?”

“Somewhere, anywhere,” you replied honestly, pursing your lips together. “Frankly, I never want to see him or hear his name ever again, so I could care less.”

“Still, he shouldn’t get away with doing this to you,” Jake stated seriously.

It had a level of force behind it that you knew wasn’t directed towards you. More like on your behalf than anything else.

Hell, Jake had always been protective over you and more than willing to fight for you. He wasn’t someone who kept a lot of close friends, but when anyone was within Jake Seresin’s inner circle, he would fight for them with everything that he had. And you knew that the state of your relationship didn’t impact that.

“He’s not worth the trouble,” you stated, waving your hand to the side. “And besides, I’d really just like to move on from all of this. If I can.”

“Of course, you can,” Jake spoke softly, reaching out to take your hand. “He’s just a . . . I can’t say the word that I want to say because we’re standing in a church.” You laughed and shook your head at Jake. “But either way, it’s his loss.”

“Thanks Jake.”

“I’m serious. I mean, any guy who looks at you, especially when you’re in that dress . . .” Jake trailed off, letting his eyes rake over your form, “. . . and doesn’t hope to be the guy standing there, waiting for you at the altar . . . he’s not worth your time.”

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, just like it used to whenever he would wave to you in the hallway between classes when you two were teenagers. And staring into Jake’s bright green eyes, you knew that he meant every word that he spoke. Rocking your joined hands back and forth, you tried to settle the wobble in your lips.

“I didn’t want it to be him,” you stated honestly, causing Jake to noticeably pick his head up. “He . . . I gave into the pressure that I should be married and moving into that stage of my life by now and . . . I should have never agreed to marry him in the first place.”

Jake nodded slowly and turned to look at the ground. A moment passed where he seemed to be trying to compose himself before he slowly picked his head up again.

“Who did you want it to be?” Jake asked softly, so softly that you didn’t hear it the first time.

“What?”

“Who did you want it to be?” he repeated, picking his head up and staring deeply into your eyes. “Waiting for you at the altar, I mean.”

Your breathing subtly picked up and your lips parted a bit at Jake’s question. And the intensity of his stare that made your entire body feel like it was on fire. Slowly and tentatively reaching out, you gently cupped Jake’s cheek with your hand and rubbed your thumb across his soft skin.

“My answer hasn’t changed,” you stated quietly as emotion started to clog your throat. “It never has.”

The two of you naturally leaned towards each other. Your bodies seemed to naturally fit together as you pressed up together. The two of you slowly leaned in until your foreheads rested together. And when he was standing this close, you could pick out all of the different colors in his eyes, which were staring down at your lips.

Gently cupping the back of your neck, Jake pulled you in for a soft kiss. Your lips moved together like they had never been parted in the first place. Not by school or deployments or life in general. For much of your adult lives, the issue was never your feelings for each other but everything else getting in the way. But right there, in that small little church in rural Texas, life wasn’t in the way.

Nothing and no one were in the way. Not anymore.

Jake dropped his hat and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer. You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and cupped his cheek once again, guiding your lips together. It probably would have gotten you disapproving looks if anyone else was around, but for that perfect little moment, it was just the two of you.

Pulling away a few moments later, you rested your foreheads against each other’s and smiled to yourselves. Breathing a bit heavily, you trailed your fingers down Jake’s cheeks as he brushed his nose against your own.

“When do you have to leave?” you asked quietly.

“Tomorrow morning,” Jake sighed, clearly sounding disappointed. “I could barely get any time off. I actually owe Coyote a laundry list of things because he covered for me.”

“Then we shouldn’t waste any time,” you replied, trying to look on the positive side.

About ten seconds later, you and Jake hurried out of the church hand-in-hand. Jake’s rented truck was the only car in the parking lot and you both quickly made a beeline for it. Jake unlocked and opened the door for you to climb inside. You sat down and Jake hurried to push the rest of your dress inside before shutting the door.

You pulled him in for another excited kiss as he slid into the driver’s seat before Jake started his rented truck to drive the two of you to the hotel. As Jake backed out of the parking lot, you sent your mom a quick text, which was just a simple photo of Jake.

“Do you have the directions to the hotel?” Jake asked, turning back around and heading for the road.

“Yeah and the confirmation, so we can actually check in,” you mused, smiling over at him.

As Jake pulled out onto the road, you got a text back from your mom. You let out an amused noise and shook your head when you read her message.

Don’t forget protection. Or do. I wouldn’t mind a grandbaby if you two agreed on one. Love you!

You sent your mom a quick ‘love you’ text back before turning off your notifications. Jake reached out and grabbed your hand, threading your fingers together. Jake pulled your hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

And even though this wasn’t how you expected your wedding day to go, you had to admit that this outcome was actually far better than the one you that had in mind.

Part 2 Part 3 Epilogue

#hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman fanfiction #hangman top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x you #jake seresin x you #hangman seresin #top gun hangman

[sunarc]

a geto x spoiled reader pls:3

Cw: sugar daddy geto, reader is spoiled, riding, male receiving oral, doggy, a lot of spit

A/N: this took forever for me to get to but I hope you enjoy it.

Geto can’t get enough of spoiling his baby. Anything you want he’s willing to give it to you. That’s why it’s such a surprise when you ask for a new bag to match the pair of shoes he had just brought you only to receive a no without hesitation. The words fall past his lips so easily and you feel sick immediately. i’m

“No?” you ask, staring at him incredulously.

He doesn’t even look up at you from the book in his hand. This is unlike him. You stare, confusion plastered on your face.

“Is there a parrot in the room? You heard what I said, my love” his voice is the same calm tone it always is, soft and calm. His words somehow feel harsh telling you no, even with the loving nickname he always calls you and with how delicate he is when he says it.

You sit confusion, anger even. How could he say no to you? What was the game plan here?

“Are you well?” you ask, feeling his forehead. The only explanation for this would be that he is sick. What other reason would he have for saying no to you? Perhaps he is too sick to take you shopping. That’s okay you could just take his card.

“I’m very well, thankyou for asking” his tone angers you.

Geto has never been one to deny you anything. If you ask for something he is quick to give you exactly what you want. It almost sounds like another language when he tells you no.

“I want a new bag!” you whine childishly as you kneel in front of him between his legs giving him puppy dog eyes. Geto may not show it but he always falls for this face. You're his precious darling, how could he not fall apart when he sees that sweet pout.

He chuckles at this which only infuriates you even more.

“And why exactly do you think you deserve a new bag?” he’s finally giving you the attention you desire.

You look at him as if the answer is obvious “Because you always get me what I want” you cock your head to the side.

Geto throws his head back laughing. If you were angry before you were furious now.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, folding your arms with an angered pout.

“Let me get this straight angel” He leans forward bringing his face close to yours. “You think you deserve a new bag and you’ve been nothing but mean to me, talking back, not listening, even ignoring me when I talk to you?” he asks with a shocked expression. “Hmm I must be confusing the definition of good then” he leans back and picks up his book.

You want to give a sarcastic reply but you know better. You had been a bit mean the past few days but only because you weren’t feeling good but you were much better now.

“I’ll be good I promise” you whine

“Too late for that” he’s turning the pages of his book not even paying attention to you. “You haven't even apologized”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for being mean ! I didn’t mean it”

Geto looks at you from over his book. His eyes are dark with a menacing glaze over them.

“Actions speak louder than words my love” he spreads his legs wider “How about show me how much you want that bag”

Your hands move faster than your brain can process the words that leave his mouth. You drag his pants down enough to expose his cock with a hungry look, determined to please him. Your mouth hangs open watching the way his cock springs out from his pants. Something takes over you when you see the precum that leaks from his tip. You lick a long strip up from the base of his cock. Your hand pumps while your tongue flicks at the tip desperate to get a reaction out of him. You look up to see him not even paying attention to you. As if you aren’t even there he flips the page of his book humming softly. He’s blatantly ignoring you waiting to see how you will react. What are you going to do to get his attention? Do you even think you deserve his attention? You love a good challenge. You slide your mouth down onto his cock gagging slightly when you reach his base. You begin bobbing slowly building up tension. Your hands massage his balls gently wanting to give him as much pleasure as possible. You’re determined, you’d do anything just to hear so much as a whimper. The slurping sounds grow louder as you bob your head. Your eyes look up at him only to see him staring at you with a dark look. His head is resting in his hand almost as if he’s bored. He’s holding back. He can’t give you the satisfaction of hearing him just yet.

“That’s the best you can do” he places the book down and leans back on the couch “You got my attention, now make that shit sloppy, you know how I like it”

You pick up speed,loudly slurping and sucking him in. His words are like fuel for you. You have his attention now, it's time to figure out how you’ll keep it. You bob your head in a quick pace moaning around his cock. Something about knowing how you please him makes you wet to the point you’re dripping.

“Hmm somebody really wants that bag huh” his hand grips your hair guiding your head up and down at his desired pace. “You’re gonna have to gag a little more”

His cock is covered in saliva. Spit pools down your chin leaving you a complete mess. Geto continues guiding your motions pushing you down onto his cock without mercy. He pulls you up letting you gasp for air.

“Look at my messy baby, working so hard” his hand grips your hair tightly “Not hard enough though. Stand up” he commands.

You stand up in front of him looking down suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.

“Strip” his voice is sharp.

You slowly begin taking off your clothes. Your eyes peer over to see him stroking his cock watching you intensively. You’ve been naked in front of him a thousand times but something about now makes you feel nervous. Your arms wrap around your body when you're finally completely naked standing before him. He purrs at the sight of your shy form.

“Oh don’t get shy on me now” He pulls you down to sit on his lap. “You were just drooling all over my cock now you can’t even look at me?”

You know how ridiculous it sounds. You can’t help how his presence alone can make you shrink. His hand rubs your body, soothing you.

“You don’t have to be nervous my love” his voice is soft “All you have to do is cum on my cock and I’ll buy you any bag you want” his smile is innocent and sweet compared to the lewd words.

A heavy hand comes crashing down onto your ass.

“Hurry up, you know I don’t like repeating myself” he growls

You're quick to place the tip of his cock at your entrance. Your hands move to his shoulder to find balance. His hands grip your hips lazily letting you do the work. You glide down his cock slowly. Your eyes roll back from the pleasure of being filled by him. His cock is long and thick enough to have you cumming just from sinking down onto him. You shake the thought away. You’re desperate to see him lose control. You want him to break, fuck him until he’s moaning and cumming all for you.He wants the exact same thing. You bounce up and down on his cock at a slow pace. It’s one that has him biting his lip with a frustrated sigh. If Geto could have his way he’d be fucking into you like a feral animal. He wants to keep his composure, he has something to prove and he knows that you’ll break before him. He knows you can never reach the orgasm you so desperately desire without him. Within a few moments you’ll be whimpering about how sorry you are and begging him to fuck you how he knows you need him to but for now he’ll hold himself back and watch you believe you have control.

Your hands wrap around his neck as you bounce on his cock. His arm wraps around you massaging the fat of your ass.

“There it is, now you’re fucking like you have something to prove” he groans .

You feel so tight. He feels like he might explode. Geto knows his cock was made for you. It fits so perfectly into your hole. Your slick always feels like heaven when it’s dripping down the sides of his cock. He knows your body well; he might as well call it his own. The way you clench around him he can tell you're close to your own orgasm. He closes his eyes letting out a pleased sigh at the thought of you shaking and writhing cumming all over him. He loves how messy you can get sometimes, soaking the fabric beneath him. Sometimes you make a mess for him just from the feeling of him fucking you with the tip. God he loves you. He’ll buy you whatever you want ,just make his cock nice and messy just how he likes.

“Thats it so good for me fucking yourself on my cock like that” he groans

“You wanna cum?” he grabs your chin forcing you to meet his eyes.

You nod your head too far gone to think of any words to say.

“Uh-uh you use your words when you talk to me you know better”

“Ye-” you’re cut off by a moan

Geto shakes his head disappointed. He lifts you off his cock and pats your leg.

“All four. Let me show you how it's done my love.”

Your legs tremble in the position but Geto is quick to help by gripping your hips and slamming himself into you without warning. His cock reaches deeper inside of you in this position. You let out loud cries as his hips slam against yours. He grabs your arms pulling you down onto his cock.

“Come one let me hear how bad you want that bag.”

“Please please please” you chant slurring your words.

You can’t think of anything else apart from his cock.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” he sounds genuinely confused “ I can’t believe my baby really has no manners, I thought I taught you better”

His cock shows you no mercy stretching you out. This is how he likes to have you. Fucked out of your mind barely able to think straight. He wants his cock sliding against your gummy walls to be the only thing going through that pretty head of yours. If he could he would have you like this for forever, fumbling over your words creaming on his cock.

“I- please- I can’t- it’s too much” the words fall past your lips as one.

“You’re gonna cum? Already?” Geto pace doesn’t falter , his cock continues ramming into you recklessly.

You can barely contain yourself. You're shaking in his grip, moaning and slurring a jumble of words. Geto is mesmerized by the sight. Watching you completely lose yourself overcome by your orgasm has him going feral. He can’t stop himself. Your body falls weakly against the couch too weak to sit up. Geto slows down fucking you with long slow strokes. He leans down to press kisses up your neck to your ear.

“That was so fucking hot.” he growls voice low and silky.

His voice sends shivers through your body and you can only whine in response too lost in the deep slow strokes he’s giving you.

“How about you make this pussy squirt on my cock and I’ll buy you two bags, fuck it I’ll buy you the whole store.”

#getou smut #getou x reader #getou #getou suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #getou suguru #jujutsu geto #geto x you #geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut

[juneknight]

Hand Covers Mouth

Kink: sex pollen/aphrodisiac

About this: Takes place during canon events, Steven/fem!reader, Marc/fem!reader.

*

Let’s split up, Layla had said. She tacked on a hurried, ‘You with Steven? Be careful!’ before nearly sprinting off down a tunnel, leaving you (her scowling friend) and Steven (a mesmerized puppy) alone in a sandy tomb.

Look, you understood it was complex. Steven shared a body with her (soon to be? Possibly?) ex-husband, after all; but in your mind, that gave her even more of a reason to be the one responsible for him. Absently, your hand reaches down to lay your palm on the holster where your gun rests. You have no doubt that Harrow’s minions would kill without qualm. While you would not find it so easy to digest, you would do whatever you had to, to keep yourself safe.

To keep Steven safe. No matter what—

“What are you doing?” you ask at a frantic whisper. Steven is barely visible in the darkness where he is brushing sand and dust, centuries of time away from the hieroglyphics on the wall.

He glances back over his shoulder at you, giving you his typical expression of an adorable animal who fears they are about to be on the receiving end of a harsh kick in the rump, but who is so thrilled by their own discovery that they hardly care. He points to the wall.

“Reading these hieroglyphics,” says Steven. “Think they might be important.”

You glance toward the wall. You are not like Steven or Layla, able to read the symbols. You did not have the same practical and personal education which they had so tediously earned for themselves over the years. At the base of the wall sits a gilded table, the bottom of each leg morphing into the paw of some great cat. Some of the items around it are unrecognizable, turned to rubble, after so many years. But resting on top of it, there are a set of neat little figurines inlaid with moldavite, glittering black in the darkness.

“You don’t think—the ushabti?”

“Not likely,” Steven admits with a frown. “But some of the wall has crumbled here, can’t make out the rest, can I? It does say that this is powerful. Maybe we should take these to Layla and have her look at them.”

You fight the urge to scowl again. Layla. Steven was always trailing after Layla…

Alright, perhaps you had another reason for being so sour at Steven’s mention of your closest friend. How could you help being enamored with him, with his big brown eyes, with his undying enthusiasm, with his gentle heart and scathing wit? But Steven didn’t look at you like that. He was always too busy looking at Layla.

When you look at him, the expression of hope on his face is painful. You do your best to bite back any sarcastic or caustic replies. He truly doesn’t deserve them. It isn’t his fault he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings.

“We don’t have time to hunt down Layla with every artifact we find,” you remind him gently. “And we don’t have time to search every little artifact for significance, either.”

He leans against the wall, like some suave Don Juan from a movie.

“Life’s about stopping to smell the roses, love, or stopping to find the roses if no roses immediately present—oh—oh bugger.” Steven slips, more of the wall crumbling away beneath the weight of his elbow. He stumbles into the little golden table—and off go all three of the little figurines, smashing into brittle pieces on the stone floor, the sound deafening in the silence around you.

“Oh my gods,” Steven says, both hands coming up to clutch at his curls. “Oh no, I deserve prison. Oh look what I’ve done—these were thousands of years old and I just destroyed them—”

“Steven—” Your words die in your throat. Your heart begins to race, breathing becoming fast and shallow. He looks up at you from where he has knelt on the floor in anxious guilt over the figurines, and you see something in his eyes which you can’t identify. Something sharp. Something hungry.

Then he blinks.

In the distance, you hear the sound of voices calling, none of them the familiar timber of Layla. He reaches out with the reflexes of a snake and grabs you around the waist, dragging you down to his position. One hand—warm, tasting faintly of sweat and sand—clamps over your mouth as he drags you back against his body, making both of your positions smaller as you hide behind a pillar.

Against your back, he is hard.

“Quit it,” he hisses lowly in your ear, and that’s when you realize that it isn’t Steven at all. That posh British accent has dissolved into something relaxed and loose, a Chicagoan accent that you’ve never heard before but would recognize anywhere. Marc. His words register secondarily, and you realize that you are writhing against him, literally arching your back to try to rub your aching cunt against the hard line of his cock.

A whine slips past his hand, and he lets out an angry, shaking breath against the crook of your neck. His free hand reaches around and slips right down the front of your pants. By the time he is cupping your sex with his broad palm, you are soaking wet, aching, already working towards that blissful crest even with the only stimulation being in your own mind.

“It must have been an aphrodisiac,” Marc whispers, barely audible over the raging pulse in your ears. “If I give you some fingers, can you be quiet until they’re gone?”

You nod, exaggeratedly. Truthfully, you aren’t sure. You just know that you would say anything, agree to anything to have any one of his fingers inside you.

He gives you two. You cum straight away, eyes rolling back, pussy clenching around his digits tightly. Marc gives a choked breath at the sensation of your walls squeezing and squeezing his fingers. His hips work once, twice, three times against the curve of your ass and then he stiffens himself, a breathless, nearly inaudible sound of pleasure passing through his lips.

The sweetest fucking sound you’ve ever heard.

The voices in the distance begin to fade away—the sweetest silence.

Then you have a mouthful of sand, Marc’s hand between your shoulder blades pinning you into the ground. You hear the clinking of his belt as he frantically tries to loosen it, and you wiggle your hands beneath you looking for the fasten of your own pants.

“Didn’t want it to go like this,” he says through clenched teeth. You can’t even imagine his expression: something hard and desperate. You wonder if he took over for Steven forcefully or if Steven retreated, anxious at the potent desire that the aphrodisiac evoked in him. “Didn’t want our first time to be like this—”

“Is he okay?” you whisper, working your pants and underwear down at once, arching your back for him. He still has on his boxers, but he’s grown desperate: hands gripping your hips, thighs snapping against the back of your own as he simulates sex with you. Marc makes a perplexed sound. Fuck, his cock feels good, even covered by soft cotton that you’re drenching with your own slick. You struggle for a moment to remember your question. “Steven—is he okay?”

“Steven is—fucking great,” Marc says, laughing a little derisively. “Trust me. Steven’s been wanting to fuck you since the moment he saw you. There’s a little place in my head where’s he’s beating off furiously, I’m sure—”

“You’re such a dick,” you gasp.

“I’ll show you dick, gonna give you mine,” he mutters through his teeth, finally working down his boxers. “Gonna fuck that girlish expression you give Steven all the time right off your face, gonna make it so every time you look at him, you’re thinking about how good my cock fills you.”

“His cock,” you breathe, arching your back more, fingers curling in the sand and scratching the stone beneath. “His cock too.”

“Yeah yeah,” says Marc testily, finally resting the head of his cock at your entrance. He slips in with one devastating, life-changing thrust. “We’ll test that theory when I let him out for his turn.”

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader

[writing-house-of-m]

When the party is over

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Warnings: R's gender is not specified. Sexual content (minors DNI) - Oral (face sitting), vaginal penetration, hints of fingering (W receiving).

Word count: 6168

Summary: You have had one thing on your mind all day. It is time to make it a reality when you and Wanda are finally alone

A/N: I've had this for such a long time, before I even posted my first fic. It was because I saw a gif and since then it has been a struggle to finish. I don't like how this has turned out but it's smut so I think all your thirsty asses will like it. Enjoy! And let me know what you think 😊

MINORS DNI

You have been out shopping for what feels like most of the afternoon to get what you need for tonight's party. While your wife is busy getting what is on the list, you can't stop ogling her. 

To you she is the most beautiful person to have ever walked this earth and with the outfit she is wearing you can only be surprised you have made it this far into the day without your hands being all over her. 

The thoughts on your mind can only be described as downright filthy. You have been counting down the minutes to get back home as soon as you left the house an hour and a half ago. 

It isn't your fault, the blue dress she has chosen to wear for a simple grocery trip had your mind reeling. You want to pull the knot tied at the front loose, so you can explore her body. 

At one point Wanda asked you to decide between two types of cheeses. You were too distracted by the sunglasses she had one end in her mouth while she was contemplating in her mind, not realising she had diverted her attention to you. 

You haven't been so envious of an inanimate object before. 

When you finally looked at Wanda she had the sweetest smile on her face. One that you wish you could have kissed away. 

Another thing Wanda was doing which was driving you crazy was, every so often, threading her fingers through her hair to keep it out of her face. It doesn't help that it keeps falling forward whenever she leans closer to a shelf or when reaching for something. On this abnormally warm spring day it wasn't helping you keep your cool. 

Eventually, she used her sunglasses to push all her hair back by placing them on her head like an impromptu headband. The heat of the day was the least of your problems when that action alone was setting you on fire. You made sure to take your time, strolling slowly, through the refrigerator and freezer sections. 

After what felt like the most torturous afternoon you finally make your way back home. 

Once you get all the shopping bags into the house, there is nothing stopping you now. "Do you know how hard it's been keeping my hands off you today?" 

She turns from the shopping bag she is emptying to see you approach with the last bag. She bites her lip while making a fake thinking face. "Oh really? I couldn't tell," Wanda replies sarcastically. Of course she knew, sometimes you think she can read your mind. 

You put the bag you're holding to the side to put your hands on Wanda's waist as she wraps her arms around your neck. You immediately bury your face in her neck to start what has been on your mind all day. 

Wanda smiles as she turns her head to the side, giving you more access while your lips begin their assault slowly moving down. "I thought you were holding onto the shopping cart like your life depended on it because you thought someone was going to steal it from you," the words come out innocently but the smirk you can't see tells a different story. "That or you are really excited for the fruit platter you need to arrange." 

You move away from Wanda's collarbone chuckling then bring your lips to hers in a long awaited kiss. Her soft lips moulding yours with familiarity but just as exciting as the first time you ever kissed her. As it gets deeper, you feel the arousal growing inside of you. 

With Wanda pinned against the counter you push everything on top to the side. Lifting her up from her thighs, you stand between her legs while kissing across her jaw, "Do we have enough time?" You mumble against her, moving your lips down the column of her neck. 

"Yeah, we should," Wanda replies, breathlessly. You finally untie the bow on her dress, the one that has been laughing at you all day, to grant you more access to her chest. You leave a few marks just under her breasts where she will easily be able to hide them later for tonight's gathering. 

Before you can get any further the doorbell rings, making you let out a frustrated groan. Especially when Wanda tries to pull you away wanting to go and see who it is. "No, ignore it, they'll leave," you say, impatiently. 

Wanda tries again with no effort to stop you, "They could be here early for the party, baby." 

You reply, moving back to her mouth. "I guess they'll have to wait," kissing her lips immediately after to stop any kind of rebuttal. When you think Wanda is lost in pleasure again, you move your kisses along her jawline then make your way to the sensitive spot below her ear. "You said we had time and obviously they are way too early," the vibrations of your voice tickling her in the right way because she sighs. 

The doorbell rings again and when you move in to kiss her lips again to stop her from saying anything, Wanda places a finger on your mouth to stop you with a stern look on her face. "Y/n." 

You sigh, dropping your head in defeat but only after you kiss the flat side of the finger still on your lips. You help her off the counter by gripping her waist as she slides down. 

Wanda laughs at your reaction while fixing herself to look more presentable as you lean against the space that was just occupied by her, watching her. How is it possible for someone to look as good as her? 

Before she can leave you grab her hand and pull her back in for a kiss. You take your time, slowly sliding your tongue against hers making Wanda wrap her arms around you before the doorbell rings once again interrupting you. "Y/n, I need to get it," Wanda mumbles against your lips. 

Your voice is low when you speak back into her lips, "They can wait," you finish with three pecks, and pull back with your eyes closed, a tight lipped grin on your face. 

Wanda scoffs at your antics, "Dork," she whispers, her breath fanning over your face. You open your eyes and smile at each other for a moment. That is until the doorbell rings again - you are really beginning to hate the sound. 

As Wanda walks away to see who it is you slap her butt making her giggle. 

You busy yourself by putting away some of the groceries. Out of anyone who is coming tonight you hope it is Natasha and Bucky who are here early. Even if they did ruin your moment with your wife. 

You can hear Wanda talking to whoever has turned up at the door from where you are in the kitchen but it isn't until they get closer that you start to make out the voices. You grimace when you hear Jarvis. Or is it Vision now? Either way he's the same idiot. 

The disgust on your face is enough to let anyone know how much you hate the guy. He has had a crush on Wanda for so long, and even though she is now married to you, he still tries to make a move on Wanda whenever he can. This time he has even brought along his current girlfriend. You don't know much about her except her name, well her social name - Mantis, which is a little weird but she seems nice enough from your few interactions. 

You already know that even with Mantis being here it won't stop him from trying to get some time with Wanda. You feel sorry for the poor girl for being with such a repulsive guy, not understanding how he is able to get anyone with his outdated and cringey pickup lines. Unfortunately for you, you have had to see it first hand in the past. 

The closer they get the more you can understand what they are saying. You hear the woman say they wanted to help with setting up for the party - you'd be grateful for the help if only it wasn't the guy you hated. This on top of them ruining your steamy session with your wife is enough to fuel you into hating them. You know the only reason he is here early is to get more time to try and flirt with Wanda. 

They greet you in the kitchen but you are in no mood to talk to them for disturbing you so you say a quick hello and carry on with your previous task seeming busy and not rude. 

Wanda walks to you placing her hand on your shoulder making you automatically turn your head in her direction. "Y/n, they're here to help so give them something to do while I shower and get ready." Being jealous of inanimate objects seems to be a recurring theme today because now you can't help but feel envious of the shower. 

You nod your head acknowledging her words so she gives you a lingering peck on the cheek. Before Wanda leaves, she whispers in your ear only low enough only for you to hear, "Be nice and we can finish what we started, later." Her voice is husky and has an immediate effect on you as you feel heat rise to your cheeks. With the additional people in the room you hold yourself back from doing anything though. You nod again but this time with a smirk on your face. 

As Wanda walks out she speaks to the couple, saying you will tell them what needs to be done. When the last thing is out of the bag you are emptying you turn to the intruders. "I guess you can start with sorting through these snacks," you say as you move out of the way to get some bowls and cups that will be used for the party. 

…

Having managed to get the house 'party' ready with most of the setting up done in the backyard to keep the mess out there - different tables have been arranged for snacks, games and drinks. You deem the set up a success. 

More so, you feel proud of yourself for not being too sarcastic around Jarvis. Although, you did make him do a few things that were unnecessary. Like, taking out the trash, moving around tables and chairs where they wouldn’t ruin the ‘feng shui'. Just little things to make him work up a bit of sweat. 

You leave the two early birds with the last of the finishing touches, setting up the drinks table, to go get ready yourself. As you walk to the bedroom the door is slightly ajar so you push it open, quietly. 

Wanda is sitting in front of her vanity mirror in her bathrobe distracted by her phone, probably checking in on social media about her party when she should be busy with her makeup. The longer you watch her the more it seems that she hasn't heard you. 

Leaning on the door frame, you take in her fresh face reflected in the mirror in front of her. "You really don't need all of that you know?" She looks up at your relaxed figure through the mirror when you start speaking and you gesture to the make up in front of her as puts down her phone. 

"So you always say," Wanda replies smiling shyly as you push away from the frame to walk over to her. 

"You really don't. You're naturally beautiful, my love. It's unfair to everyone else." You move her hair to one side and kiss her neck, mumbling, "I don't know how I'm expected to not just take you right here. Right now," you finish with a kiss on her shoulder. 

She turns her head to look at you, completely stopping your actions. Wanda holds your face inches from hers with one of her hands to reassure you, "Later Y/n. I promise." She lightly rubs your cheek with her thumb and kisses the tip of your nose. "I need to network tonight, I wan-" 

"I know, I know," you interrupt while standing up straight. She has told you once before and that's enough for you to remember, "this is an opportunity for you to grow your following and make new connections." You recite like she has told you a million times before. 

Wanda turns back to face the mirror while you stay behind her rubbing her shoulders making eye contact for a second before she continues putting on her makeup. 

"Don't worry, I'll behave. I know what this means to you," Wanda smiles sweetly at your understanding. However, she doesn't know that you are not done yet, "But if Jarv-" Wanda raises an eyebrow at you for using the wrong name so you correct yourself, "Vision, or whatever he's calling himself these days, comes anywhere near you I may have to get physical." You finish, crossing your arms over your chest. 

She stops her actions and gives you a 'you're being ridiculous' look. "He's harmless, honey." 

You roll your eyes at her comment. "More like useless," you say under your breath. She gives you another look making you drop your arms to your sides to continue. "Harmless, useless, that's besides the point. I don't care for him at all. And I don't like the way he looks at you." This time you give her a 'it is obvious how he feels about you' look. 

"Y/n," Wanda warns firmly, "he is here with his girlfriend. How many times do I have to tell you you don't need to worry about him? Besides, he's too scared of you to do anything anyway. You always look at him like you're about to kill him." 

"Good, that's how it should be," you say and place a kiss on the top of her head. Shaking your head you continue, "And don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt him..." a mischievous smile takes over your face, "at least not tonight, anyway," you finish then turn to rush out. 

"Y/n!" You both laugh and it's her turn to slap your butt as you walk to the bathroom to take your turn to shower and get ready. 

…

By the time you are dressed and join the party a small number of guests have already arrived. You greet those you pass while looking for Wanda. The few people you speak to say she is outside. 

A few of those people are your mutual friends. You want to catch up with Bucky and Natasha quickly so that you can find Wanda afterwards but then Steve, Peggy, Sam, Sharon, Pietro and Monica join in too. 

After what feels like too long you finally manage to get in the fact you need to find Wanda. You roll your eyes and laugh at the comments they make about the two of you not being able to stay apart for more than a few minutes at a time. 

You find her talking and laughing with some of the more important people she invited tonight who she wants to make connections with. You can't help but stand there and admire her from afar. 

As if Wanda can sense your gaze she makes eye contact with you and smiles brighter when she acknowledges your presence. She waves for you to come over so you nod your head. You gesture if she wants a drink which she responds by nodding her head back to you. 

On your way over you stop by the drinks table and grab her something light so she can stay level headed for her long night of networking. 

Once you reach her, she has that breath-taking smile on her face as she takes the drink you hold out for her. "Thank you," Wanda says, taking a quick sip before she introduces you to the small group she has been talking to. 

You wrap your free arm around her waist as she speaks and leans into your side. "Everyone, this is Y/n." Their eyes are on you in a second as you smile and with a slight nod of your head you greet them with a quick - 'Hi, nice to meet you all.' 

Someone's attention grabs you both when they speak up. "Wanda was just saying how supportive you are of her and how you're 'the light of her life'," you can't help but chuckle shyly along with the group at the term of endearment she's used so many times, it is definitely one of your favourites. 

She has a toothy grin on her face as you glance over to her while she and the group look at you waiting for you to comment. 

You turn your head back to the group. "Well I don't have to do much. Most of the time I just need to stand out of her way and watch her shine from the side. She's the only light around here," Wanda blushes, biting her lip, as you all laugh at your cheesy words. 

"Sounds like you're being modest," someone else speaks up. "She mentioned how you go out of your way to capture the perfect picture for her - lying on the ground if you need to." He gestures with his hand and closes one eye like he's taking a photo. The others hum in agreement. You are not embarrassed, you would do anything for her. 

"Any picture is perfect if she's in it," Wanda's blush deepens as she buries her face into your shoulder slightly. "It's not hard to capture her beauty. I just want to make sure I do it from a good angle." You have seemingly finished until you rush to add, "For aesthetic reasons, of course!" Keeping the crowd happy with your light-heartedness. You then make a thinking face, squinting, "Hmm and also because I'm following her orders." You finish off with a raised eyebrow as another round of laughs emerges from you all. 

Wanda doesn't let the chat end there, glancing at you scrunching her nose a little, then looking back to her new friends, "See, what did I tell you all? Full of corny one liners this one," she says, patting your chest with her empty hand. 

This is how most of the night goes; talking to groups and individuals. Occasionally leaving Wanda's side to deal with matters regarding food, drinks and spillages while she continues making social connections. 

You still have one thing on your mind since you were interrupted in the kitchen earlier and you've been patiently waiting all night. All day when you really think about it. You begin to wonder when this party will end so you can get on with the after party you have been thinking about. 

It doesn't help when you see who Wanda is currently talking to. You trust her completely but you're always weary of other people. In this case, Vision, who makes your blood boil just from seeing his face. 

You are busy with cleaning up a mess someone made when they knocked into one of the tables. Thankfully it won't take long to clean but now you are distracted by how uncomfortably close Vision is standing next to your wife and how he unnecessarily leans in to talk to her. Sure there is music playing and a lot of hubbub around but it's not enough that he needs to get closer so that he is heard. 

The anger in your veins begins to boil as you watch him while you finish your task at hand. You know what this night means to Wanda so you can't lose it. Your anger is strong but not as strong as the love you have for her. 

Although, he seems to be testing those limits when you see him place his hand on her shoulder. You hold yourself together as you finish up, not wanting to act possessive but you can't help yourself. 

You pick up an empty bowl to put to the side with the others that are empty. When you glance back up you see Vision is standing a step closer to Wanda making you clench your jaw and tighten your grip on the object in your hands. You don't realise just how firmly you are holding it until it snaps under the pressure. Your eyes fall to the, now, useless bowl, cursing under your breath effectively stopping your gaze on the two people you feel opposing emotions for. 

Discarding the item, you mumble something about cheap plastic and look back up. It is as if Vision is moving in slow motion. His hand drops from her shoulder down her arm to her back, all the while still leaning in way too close whenever he speaks. 

Chanting to yourself in your head, you try to calm yourself down, "You can't lose it, you can't lose it, you can't lose it..." But then you see red when his hand begins to descend lower and it takes everything in you to not combust. 

You can't stop yourself as you take large strides to rush over to them, the mantra that should be calming you so you don't end this man tonight is just a faint whisper in the back of your mind. 

As you close in you realise you don't know what to say or do. Wanda's eyes widen when sees you and the look in your eye but before she can do anything you push yourself between them effectively breaking his hand away from her as you hold Wanda's waist and kiss her deeply. 

Wanda relaxes into your hold and easily falls into the kiss placing her hands on the back of your neck to pull you closer. Vision takes a step back while looking away awkwardly. Wanda's lips take away your anger but in exchange your libido makes its return. 

When you stop the kiss you open your eyes to see Wanda slowly open hers. Smiling with pursed lips, "Hi," is all you can muster up in a low whisper. 

She smiles, biting her bottom lip and replies with a small, "Hi," giggling shortly after. 

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold myself back any longer," you smirk. 

Vision clears his throat to make his presence known. You smile at your wife and peck her lips. While keeping her eye contact you gradually turn, moving your arm to wrap around her waist. 

You look to your nemesis like you forgot he existed, "Oh, hi Vision. Sorry buddy, I didn't see you there. Are you enjoying the party?" 

He is not as amused as you are and gives his short reply through gritted teeth, "Yes, it's been a nice night." As if on cue, the woman he arrived with comes over and says she is tired so wants to leave. You couldn't be happier, the grin on your face is almost like you have won first prize in a contest. Which, in a way, you have. 

After another hour or so you say goodbye to the last of the guests as you walk them to the door. Wanda is latched to your side bubbling with glee because of how well tonight turned out. You listen to the excitement in her voice and can't help the warm feeling you get inside from her contagious happiness. 

Sitting on the couch Wanda puts her legs over your lap while you hold her with one arm and she plays with your other hand in your lap. She is busy going through some of the names of the influencers she was able to meet and connect with tonight deeming the party a success. "Thank you so much honey, you did a lot today," Wanda acknowledges. 

"Don't worry baby, you're dealing with the rest of the cleaning," you remark, looking at the remaining mess. "Everyone's gone now so I don't need to put up the 'perfect partner' act anymore," you smirk cheekily. 

Wanda smiles and nudges you slightly with her shoulder while she looks at you. "Seriously Y/n, they all loved you," she pushes your hair back as she speaks further. "It couldn't have gone any better and I'm glad they got to meet you." She finishes by pressing a long kiss to your cheek, the action making your eyes flutter close. 

She leans her forehead against your temple and lets out a breath whispering, "I love you," that you feel on your cheek. You easily return the sentiment then bask in each other's presence in the calmness of the night. 

After about a minute you open your eyes and she pulls away. You rest your head against the plush cushion of the sofa behind you looking in her direction. You see the expression change on Wanda's face as her finger traces a line along your jaw. "You know, we didn't finish what we started earlier." Obviously affected by thinking back to before you were interrupted after your shopping trip. 

"Oh yeah, I forgot about that," you say sarcastically before moving to press your lips to hers. It starts off slow, full of love and appreciation for the other, it doesn't take long for things to get heated especially when Wanda moves to straddle your lap. You rest your hands on her naked thighs where her dress ends as she leans over you, getting some height to deepen the kiss. 

Your hands creep up Wanda's thighs, resting them under her dress where the waistband of her underwear sits. 

When she grinds down on your lap and feels something hard in your pants, she gasps looking at you seductively, "Mmm, someone's ready," she says, cupping your crotch. 

"Well, I only saw one way this party was going to end, darling," you say with a husky voice and grin at her, "you did promise me after all." 

Wanda kisses you hard and slowly begins to move her hips along your thigh.  

You reverse your positions by quickly laying Wanda down, hovering over her as your hand makes its way up her dress to her breasts. Wanda gasps when you squeeze over the nude colored garment and your thigh presses into her centre. 

Her rings feel cool against your warm cheeks as she holds you in place. She moves her hands, the tips of her fingernails pressing into the back of your head and jaw almost painfully as she kisses you with vigor. 

Your body is heating up too much so you try to remove your jacket but when your hand hits the backrest of the couch your mind is made up to move to your bed. 

After forcefully pulling away you finally remove the piece of clothing, immediately going back to kissing Wanda with her arms locking you in. You pull away the slightest amount against Wanda's strength, "There's not enough room," you mumble against her lips. 

Latching her lips back onto yours Wanda tightens her limbs around your neck and waist as you swiftly lift her and expertly walk to the bedroom. 

When your knees hit the edge of the bed you rest Wanda against the plush covers leaning over her. As Wanda continues to move her hips against your thigh you press it into her to increase the pressure that is building up in her lower stomach. 

"Let me make you feel good," you whisper against her lips. Before you can press kisses down her jaw, Wanda unexpectedly pushes your shoulder so that you are laying on your back.

"Oh, I know you will," Wanda replies as she kneels over you. She smiles, biting her lip as she pulls her lace underwear past the edge of her dress. She slowly drags it down her smooth legs causing your breath to hitch. When you see the garment drop to the floor you finally close your mouth, swallowing your anticipation of what's to come. 

Wanda kisses you feverishly as she positions herself comfortably on top of you pulling away not long after. Your disappointment doesn't last long when she begins to crawl up your body. "Fuck," you breath out when Wanda places her knees either side of your face and you see how wet she is. 

You kiss the inside of her thighs as she gets into position while you look at what you are about to devour, your mouth salivating in anticipation. She then lowers herself on to you, your tongue immediately swiping through her folds. 

Wanda moans at the contact and then moans louder from the vibrations you send through her body when you groan at how warm she is, her flavor coating your tongue. 

You explore her folds knowing the right spots to get those intoxicating sounds from her. Wanda grinds herself on your face with one hand in your hair, her fingers threading your hair almost painfully and the other on the headboard to keep her balance. 

When your tongue ventures lower, entering her and your nose bumps against her bundle of nerves, Wanda throws her head back moaning loudly, the pleasure setting her body on fire. 

Her hips move without abandon so you slow her down placing your hands on Wanda's waist to control her speed. You bunch up her dress behind her so you can see the look of pure ecstasy on her face. 

Wanda grips your head with both hands, eyes clenched shut, too overwhelmed by the pleasure. The closer she gets to reaching her peak the stronger her nails dig into your scalp making you grunt effectively sending shocks through her body. 

Any sounds coming from her are muffled with the way her thighs squeeze around your head. Then, all in one go Wanda gushes over you, her hips slowing down as rides out her high, your hands trying to hold her in place to not let any drop go to waste. 

When her fingers and legs loosen, you try to regulate your breathing, leaving small pecks along Wanda's inner thighs as she recovers. 

Wanda looks down at you smiling as you smile back licking your lips. "I feel like I just drowned you," she giggles, stoking your hair. 

"It's going to take a lot more than that," you chuckle back. 

As Wanda goes to lay beside you, you support her by wrapping your arms around her back. When she is comfortable you kiss her, your tongue automatically meeting hers. She moans at her taste as it invades her mouth. 

You move one hand from Wanda's waist to pull down her dress below her chest. You begin to squeeze and fondle her breast, pinching and rubbing a stiff nipple. Alternating between the two. 

Nimble fingers work on your buttons to get you out of your shirt. While Wanda works on your clothes you unzip and pull her dress over her head. 

With Wanda naked your lips work on her chest, leaving marks on her soft flesh. She sighs, her hand automatically going to the back of your head, when you take her nipple into your mouth sucking and grazing your teeth over the hardened bud. 

She pulls you back up to kiss you which you reciprocate as your hips move against each other. Your moans are swallowed as the friction between you increases. 

Wanda whines a little at the loss of contact when you lift yourself but her fingers are quick to help in trying to undo your buckle. When it is loose you drop your pants on the floor then hastily remove the remainder of your clothing. 

You lean on one hand near Wanda's head as your hips meet. Your other hand grabs the shaft between your legs to coat her wetness along it while her fingers dig into your shoulders. 

In anticipation, both of you hold your breath as you line up to enter her. You grunt at the same time as Wanda gasps, when you push into her, her walls pulling you in. Burying your face in her neck to control yourself, you allow her time to adjust to the intrusion. 

Your hips stay still so you take the opportunity to look at Wanda's blissed out face. "You're so beautiful," you breathe out, kissing her lips which she lazily responds. 

As you slowly kiss her, Wanda's hips begin to thrust so you follow in time with her. When you know she can take more, you take control, pulling her legs up, so you can slam into her deeper. Wanda exclaims your name after a particularly hard stroke. 

You rest your forehead against Wanda's as she holds on to you like her life depends on it. Your mind goes to the sting you will feel when you shower in the morning from the scratches Wanda creates your back. 

The closer she gets the more Wanda's walls pulsate around you. Every movement of your hips, every sound escaping her lips you're not sure how much longer you will last so you are relieved when Wanda says she is about to cum. 

With Wanda's release yours follows shortly after. You pump in and out of her slowly to drag out her high. Carefully you rest your body weight on top of her as you catch your breath, Wanda's breathing warming your ear as she rests her head against yours. 

When you have the energy again you lean on your hands, trying to not move your hips just yet because you know Wanda will still be sensitive. 

Before you can make a move Wanda brings your face to hers, capturing your lips lovingly. With the distraction of the kiss you pull out of her slowly making her gasp when she is empty. 

Rolling over beside her your arm goes around Wanda as she lays on your bare chest. "Was that worth the wait?" She mumbles against you. 

You cup Wanda's cheek to get her to look at you. "For you? Always," you reply with a smile on your face. 

While you lay there you converse about the party again and all the ones you will now have to attend to support the new people Wanda has met as they will do with her. 

When the conversation dwindles Wanda anchors your face with her hands, leaning in to kiss you. It is sweet and calm, just as the night is now that the house is empty. 

After a while she pulls you so you move on top of her again and you know where this is going to go. Your hand travels down the side of Wanda’s body until it gets to its warm destination. 

Wanda gasps as your fingers circle her clit slowly and when you go to remove your hand she holds your wrist in place. You smile into the kiss and press harder making Wanda yelp. 

From there you don't stop until she can't take anymore. 

…

When you wake up in tangled sheets the next morning, one of your arms are draped over Wanda's midsection while you lay on your side, you open your eyes to see Wanda is already working. 

Her face is concentrating on her phone, no doubt checking up on posts and what kind of impression her party left last night. She lets out a slight laugh that turns into a gorgeous smile plastered on her face. 

You finally speak, "I thought I was the only one that could make you smile like that." 

She looks over at you, her smile unwavering, "I guess you're right." She leans over to peck your lips then turns to her side leaning on her elbow and resting her head on her hand passing you her phone. 

You raise an eyebrow as you take it. When you see the post you let out a laugh through your nose just as she did prior, "Yeah, I guess I am." 

You look at her passing her back the phone. You both reposition yourselves - you put one hand behind your head resting on the headboard and she lays on her back, letting her rest her head on your chest giving you both a clear view of her phone. 

Someone captured your kiss from last night and posted it tagging Wanda with the caption: 'I can only hope to find a love like this one day...' 

You laugh, confusing Wanda and making her turn her head to look at you quizzically. You point to Vision on the side in the photo looking over the two of you. "I didn't even notice him." You move your hand back and thread your fingers through your hair. "What a tool," you say, making Wanda shake her head, giggling. 

"You know you didn't have to do that right?" She rolls over and lays on top of you, putting her phone to the side so she can look at you. You lay with your back fully against the bed and place one of your hands on her lower back while the other is busy combing through her messy hair. "You could have just joined in the conversation, he would have moved away." 

"No, there were only two options," you say. 

Wanda looks at you with a crease between her eyebrows wondering where you are going to go with this. What exactly was the other option? 

"I figured this was better than me punching him," you laugh as if you're the funniest person ever. 

She lets out a chuckle from your antics. "You are something else," she says in a low voice then kisses you. 

You have another thought, "Although..." You take your hand away from her hair and put your finger to your chin in a mocking way with your eyebrow raised looking in the air, "that would have definitely gotten you some free publicity." You look back to her, "All publicity is good publicity, right?" She laughs at the expression on your face. 

You break the look when you smile at her reaction. "You're either psychotic or obsessed," she pokes your forehead making you furrow your eyebrows slightly. 

"Can you blame me?" You roll over so that you're on top of Wanda so she takes your face in her hands. "Look at you!" You say excitedly as you both laugh and look at each other lovingly. 

Your voice comes back down to its normal level, "I'd gladly take your labels of psychotic and obsessed if it keeps anyone else from putting their hands on you." 

"The others are right, you really are crazy," Wanda says, pecking your lips. 

"You must know it's because of you, don’t you?" You accuse. 

"Oh no, you can't use me as an excuse for your obsessive craziness," she says while squeezing your cheeks together and pressing another light kiss to your lips. 

"Oh yes I can," you lean in to kiss the smile off her face but fail miserably because you can't stop the smile on yours. 

You can't help it when you're with her. She's the best thing to have ever happened to you and you can only hope she feels the same. 

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fanfic #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff marvel #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda fluff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda smut #smut #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch fanfic #scarlet witch imagine #scarlet witch fluff #scarlet witch smut #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x y/n #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen imagine #marvel #mcu reader insert #self insert fanfiction #fic

[fizziepopangel]

A Surprise For You, My Dear

* Author’s note: In this story, I’m going to interpret Alastor’s asexuality and aromanticism as more fluid than it seems to be canonically. Also, this is my first fanfic so please keep that in mind if it's shit... That being said, I hope you enjoy!

P.s. If you enjoy this fic, you can always request more with the Fic Request Form

Alastor. The radio demon. Everyone knew the radio demon, and though he had been gone for quite a while, most still feared him upon his return, but not me. Because he was different from me. Softer, kinder, more genuine. It wasn’t a relationship, at least I didn’t think it was, but I still enjoyed my time with Alastor; the dancing, the laughter we both shared, every moment left me in awe of the man that had come to be feared by so many.

“You gonna answer me or not?” Husk snapped, pulling me from my thoughts. 

I tried to cover my embarrassment that struck me when I realized that I hadn’t been listening to the old bartender at all despite having been the one that came and started conversing with the man. I sat up a little straighter and looked over at the bar cat. “Sorry, I… my mind was somewhere else. What did you say?”

Husk rolled his eyes. “I’m goin’ out with Angel tonight but that damn pig of his is sick. I think the little shit got into my whiskey when Angel brought him down here last night. Angel wants to know if you’ll watch him.” He takes a long sip of whiskey in his glass. “So you up for it?”

Although I loved Fat Nuggets and would usually jump at the chance to spend time with the sweet little pig, I shook my head. “Sorry, I have plans with Alastor.” I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. “Al said he has a surprise for me tonight…”

“Right.” Husk gives me an unimpressed look that seems to say something along the lines of fuck you without outright saying fuck you. “Your boyfriend and your date night.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” I say awkwardly. “I mean.. I don’t think so…I mean, I… I just… I like him but its, it’s…” I sigh deeply, a heat rising in my cheeks. “Shut up, Husk.”

 “Whatever.” Husk says in his usual empty sarcastic tone. “Guess Angel and me’ll just stay in with the pig tonight…” I watch as he turns, grabbing a glass and beginning to polish it with a rag that ironically  didn’t all that clean.

“Oh… sorry, Husk…” I mumble awkwardly, suddenly feeling a bit like a dick for essentially denying the couple a night out. I knew they both deserved it but I just couldn’t bring myself to say that I would cancel on Alastor when he made the night out seem so special. “I…” I trail off for a moment, feeling the other demon’s judging eyes despite his back still being turned to me as he continues to polish glasses on the shelf behind the bar. “I’m gonna go get ready to meet Alastor. I’ll see you later, and maybe I can take Fat Nuggets another time?”

I receive a grunt in reply, but as I get off my barstool, I hear the old demon grumble under his breath…. A simple warning. “Just… Be careful around Alastor, kid…. You been having a rough enough time without his bullshit” He says, not even sparing me a glance as the words left his lips. I promise him I will, knowing that he’s only looking out for me… Husk always told me that, or at least something along those lines…. But this time felt different; this time it sent a spear of anxiety through my chest and made my mind wander to what everyone in hell knew about Alastor versus the Alastor that I knew. The Alastor that I loved despite knowing he probably didn’t and would never feel the same about me… when I really thought about it, I did wonder why the man had taken such a liking to me. I wasn't indebted to him, I had no real power in hell or the hotel, and even I knew that no matter what version of Alastor was on display, he didn't keep people around without a reason. 

My thoughts continued to wander from one shitty thought to the next as I went up to my room to change for our little hang out. I was so lost in the whirlwind of thoughts when a knock at the door jolted me from where I sat in my room.

“Darling,” Alastor’s cheery, sing song voice. “Are you ready to go?”

Despite the fact that I had just been questioning my entire purpose in his life and why my companionship was so valued by him, I practically tripped over my own two feet trying to get to the door. “Al!” I beam the second I see him. “I thought we were supposed to meet up? What are you doing here?”

Sporting his signature smile, the usually detached demon waltzed into my room, grabbing me and spinning me around. “I thought we could make our way to our outing together, hmm?” He says as I giggle. “What do you say, my dear? May I escort you to the roof for your surprise?” Alastor’s smile faded into a warmer grin as he held out his hand in invitation, waiting for me to take it.

When I took his hand and let him lead me through the halls of the hotel toward the roof, it felt as if all at once the anxieties that had been gnawing away at my gut just melted away ... it was like butterflies just swarmed my insides.

“What is this big surprise, Al?" I giggle as he whisks me up to the roof, stopping just outside the door. 

“Now, I know that you've had a rough week, and that you've been absolutely dying to see that new horror film…” He said giddily. “And I've set something up that I think you'll enjoy very much.”

A frown crossed my face for a moment. I had mentioned wanting to see the horror movie that came out last weekend, and I had been pretty having a shitty week, but I wasn’t sure where Alastor was going with this surprise since he wouldn’t dare touch a tv that would stream the movie. “Yeah…?” I laugh lightly as we stand in front of the door. “What, did you find someone to go to the movies with or something?”

“Not quite.” I can actually heat the excitement in his voice as he opens the door and pulls me through it. “What do you think?”

“Alastor…” I breathe, looking around at the rooftop. There’s twinkle lights strung up all over and blankets and pillows and wine sitting and a basket of my favorite snacks all sitting beside a projector pointed at the wall beside the door. “This is…”

“Oh, but wait, there’s more!” Alastor said, his shadow hitting play on the projector. The beginning sequence of the movie I had been dying to see popping up.

My eyes lit up and despite myself, I launched myself into the radio demon’s arms, eliciting a small ‘oof’ from the man before I felt his arms snake around me. “Alastor, this is amazing! I love it!” I looked up at the man who everyone around me seemed so terrified of, the man my friends warned me to be careful around. “Did you really do this for me?”

“Why of course!” The man smiled down at me, pulling me a bit closer than he usually did before his head dipped just a bit lower and I felt him place a soft kiss on my forehead. “I would do anything to make you happy, my sweet little radio wave.” 

My heart stopped for just a moment before it began racing, hammering against my ribcage as the butterflies in my stomach went wild. “Al…” Before I could stop myself, I found my lips connecting with his and despite his usual aversion to touch and romance and anything that could even possibly lead to sex, he pulled me a bit closer. 

When he didn't pull away, it felt like electricity crackling in my veins. I felt like every star in the sky aligned perfectly as he held me. It felt perfect, it felt right. 

Radio static cracked in the air around us and Alastor’s face was just a light shade of red, no doubt mirroring my own embarrassment at what I had just done.

“Well then, “ Alastor cleared his throat, the static seeming to fade a bit as he straightened his jacket and held his hand out to me. "Shall we sit down and watch the movie?” I take his hand and nod wordlessly, afraid that I would ruin what was certainly a perfect moment if I uttered even a word or asked him to define our relationship.

Alastor showed me to my seat on the blanketed area he had set up, I immediately sank into the soft pillows and blankets, and smiled as he sat down beside me. The movie began to play and as the opening credits began to roll, I knew I should at least thank him for all of this since I knew it was a show of care he reserved for only those he loved on some level, but before I could form a coherent sentence, I felt it… His arm snaked around my waist and pulled me closer to his own body.

“I don’t think I could’ve made this anymore perfect if I tried, Al.” I sigh softly, resting my head against his chest and listening to the quiet, steady crackle of radio static that always seemed to emit from the demon. Although he set this movie night up for me, I’m not even watching the movie, but rather, just trying to soak up this moment before it slips away. “Thank you.”

Alastor chuckles, his hand gently coming to rest on my chin. My breath caught in my throat as he leaned in, our lips hovering just apart from one anothers. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, my dear.” The static completely stops and his whisper tickles my lips as he catches them in another soft kiss.

The week had been shitty, but this… This was perfect.

Alastor Tag list : @writersonicfan91

#fizziepop thoughts #fizzie's fics #vivziepop #hazbin hotel #first fanfic #alastor hazbin hotel #the radio demon #alastor x reader #fic request #fluff fic #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel x reader #huskerdust mention

[cyberwulf]

Jamie is a Shameless Flirt, pt 2

prev

James took a deep breath and let it out slow, then lifted the videophone receiver and slowly punched in Professor Oak’s number.

He didn’t have to wait long.

“James!” The professor greeted him with a smile. “I was hoping you might call.”

“…Professor Oak.”

“I told you, call me Sam, please,” the older man chuckled. Behind him, Meowth leaped gracefully up on the laboratory bench and glowered in James’ direction.

“…Professor,” James replied. He launched into the speech he’d rehearsed after Meowth outlined all the reasons dating the man was a bad idea that guaranteed a bunch of wacky shenanigans everyone could do without. “Listen – I was a teeny bit sloshed, and I was in drag, and Jamie’s just a character I like to have fun with, so –”

“…Oh.” He winced at Professor Oak’s disappointed look. “Well, that’s too bad. I was hoping to get to know you better over dinner…”

James forced a laugh. “Well, there’s only one place in town, and I work there…”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Viridian City,” Professor Oak continued. James straightened at that. Dinner someplace fancy? Behind the professor, Meowth frowned and shook his head furiously at him. “But since you aren’t interested…”

---

“Are you out of your mind?”

Jessie pulled a face at him across the kitchen table. “Professor Twerp? Isn’t he a grandpa?”

“Sam is a gentleman who sees a lady home safely,” James retorted haughtily, taking a sip of coffee. He arched his eyebrow and gave her a sidelong glance. “Unlike certain rude little boys who unceremoniously eject their guests because they can’t control themselves.”

Jessie turned bright red. “You were the one who made her all sexy!” she hissed. She crossed her arms and scowled. “I can’t believe you’re going through with this. You can’t possibly like him.”

“I don’t have to like him,” James shot back. “He’s taking me to dinner, Jess. I’m going somewhere nice to eat a meal I didn’t cook.” He nodded at her girlfriend, currently folding laundry on the countertop. “Delia knows what I mean.”

“Yeah, where’s he taking you, the Early Bird Special?” Jessie asked sarcastically. “I will bet you ten – no, I’ll bet you twenty Pokébucks you’re home by eight with a cup of hot cocoa.”

“I’ll happily take twenty dollars of your student loan money,” James laughed. “Have it ready next Saturday morning.”

“Jessie? Sweetie?”

Both former Team Rocket members looked up. Delia hadn’t turned around, and when she next spoke, her voice was strangely flat.

“Could you take these clean clothes upstairs for me? I’d like to speak to James alone.”

Jessie and James exchanged glances before Jessie rose and took the basket of laundry out of the room. Once she was gone, Delia turned, leaning back against the counter as she crossed her arms.

“I don’t care what Jamie did after a few glasses of wine,” she said quietly. “And we did kick you out so that we could…” She nodded at the ceiling. “…you know. But if this is just a big joke to you, don’t do it. Samuel Oak is a dear friend of mine, and he’s very important to Ash.” She shook her head at him slightly, her expression putting ice in his veins. “Don’t play with his heart.”

“Delia – I –” James swallowed and had another sip of coffee – his mouth had gone dry all of a sudden. “Look, all that with Jessie…” He wilted under her steely gaze. “Look, I was going to tell him I wasn’t interested, but he wants to take me out. No one ever wants to take me out.” He gazed into his mug. “I know the three of us have wine nights, and now and then we all go dancing, but sometimes I feel…”

He risked looking at her. Delia’s expression had softened slightly, and she was nodding.

“I understand,” she answered. “But – I mean it, James. I’d never look at you the same way if you were cruel to him.”

“I won’t, I promise!” James insisted. “He was nice to me. I’m not mean to people who are nice to me.” Getting up, he crossed the room and placed his arms gently on her shoulders. “And you know that I’d never want to do anything to jeopardise our friendship, Delia.”

Delia let out a sigh. Finally, she smiled up at him. “Okay. I trust you.”

James nodded. “You’ll see. By this time next week, I’ll have had a free – but boring – dinner, Jessie’ll have an extra twenty Pokédollars, Professor Oak will be thoroughly disillusioned, and everything will be back to normal.”

---

Meowth scowled as his human housemate tried on various combinations of shirts and pants, fretting over which ones looked best. “Thought you was only doing this for the free dinner?”

James cast him a sour look. “Excuse me for wanting to look nice in front of your boss.” He settled on a pair of chinos and a white shirt.

“Yeah, he is my boss,” Meowth growled, “and I gotta look him in the eye Monday morning, so no funny business.” James rolled his eyes and applied some cologne. Meowth sneezed as it wafted his way. The doorbell rang and James flinched.

“Get that, will you?” he said, a note of panic in his voice. “I haven’t even decided what shoes to wear!”

Grumbling under his breath, Meowth trudged to the front door, jumped up on the end table, and tugged on the handle.

“Hey there, Prof,” he mumbled, moving to let the older man in. He gestured through to the den. “Have a seat. His Majesty’ll be right out.”

“Thank you, Meowth.” The professor settled himself on the couch, laying the bouquet of flowers he’d brought carefully on the coffee table. He plucked a comb from the pocket of his sport coat and ran it through his hair. Meowth slunk into the den and eyed him suspiciously from behind the armchair. He didn’t like the flowers or the sport coat or the black shirt which looked kinda tight on the prof but in a flattering way. And here he’d done everything he could to try and stop any shenanigans from shenaniganing.

His ears twitched at the sound of a door opening and closing down the hall.

“Yoo-hoo.”

Professor Oak stood up, taking the bouquet with him. James stepped into the den, leather jacket slung over one shoulder.

“Well!” The professor looked up at him. “You certainly look handsome.” He looked down at the flowers. “I, er, I wasn’t sure who I’d be taking to dinner…but I suppose these are for you.”

“Ooh.” James giggled and Meowth frowned. “Oh, these are expensive.” He blushed. “Sam, you shouldn’t have.” He turned to the surly Scratch-Cat. “Meowth, be a dear and put these in some water, will you?”

With a growl, Meowth snatched the flowers out of James’ grasp.

“Shall we?” Professor Oak asked, offering James his arm.

“Let’s,” James answered. He petted Meowth roughly on the head. “Don’t wait up now!”

Meowth followed them to the entrance, frowning again as the professor opened James’ door for him. “I ain’t never gonna sleep tonight.”

---

“Thanks for coming, honey.” Delia glanced up anxiously at the clock again. It was almost time to open up, and there was still no sign of James.

“Oh I’m not missing this,” Jessie replied with a smirk. “I want my twenty bucks.”

“If James doesn’t show up soon, I’m going to need you to be a server,” Delia warned. “I’ll have to do all the cooking.”

“I dunno what to tell ya, Delia,” Meowth remarked from the counter. He had another mouthful of milk. “He was at home this morning and he left before I did.”

The back door flew open.

“Sorry I’m late!” James called. He snatched his apron from its peg and put it on. “Let me just get ready –”

As he made for the kitchen, Jessie leaned over and hooked him by the collar. “Hold it right there, mister. We all want to know how your date went.”

A dreamy look came over James’ face.

“Oh it was a magical evening,” he drawled, resting his chin in his hand. “He took me to this swanky Kalosian restaurant, and then we went for a walk in the park. And then we drove down to Route 21, and the moonlight was shining on the water…”

“Aww…”

Delia glanced at Jessie. She was mirroring her former team-mate’s posture, a goofy smile on her face. Note to self – take Jessie to Route 21 after sunset. Dressed as guy(?)

James pushed himself off the counter and began to saunter back and forth. “And we just talked and talked and talked…”

“Yeah, what about?” Meowth asked sourly.

“Poetry,” James retorted good-naturedly. “And Grass-types. And overly affectionate Pokémon. And Ash.” He scratched the cat behind his ears. “And you.” He crossed his arms and shot Jessie a smug look. “And you owe me twenty Pokédollars, because I didn’t get home till after midnight. No hot cocoa involved.”

Jessie looked to Meowth for confirmation. The cat shrugged.

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” he declared. “Pay the man, Jess.”

“You know, I’m not even mad,” Jessie chuckled, reaching for her purse. A teasing note entered her voice as she handed over the cash. “You’re sweet on a grandpa.”

James giggled. “You know, I think I am,” he admitted. “Did I tell you he brought me flowers?”

“Midnight’s not so late,” Delia remarked. She arched an eyebrow at James, her smile belying her serious boss act. “So why are you, Mr. Sasaki? Explain yourself.”

“Oh, I had to drop Sam’s jeep back to the corral,” James replied. “I wound up driving him home.” He looked away coyly. “He wasn’t really in any shape to.”

“Really?” Delia asked in surprise. “That’s not like him.” She chuckled. “I suppose it has been a while since he had a night out, he probably doesn’t know his limits anymore.”

Delia – as most people would, in her position – assumed that the blank look which appeared on James’ face was just one of his many himbo moments. Jessie and Meowth, on the other hand, understood loud and clear, with the latter just managing not to spit milk across the restaurant.

“Oh – yes,” James laughed nervously. “We brought a bottle of wine with us to Route 21 and he had a few too many. That, that is definitely what happened.” He looked past her at the clock. “Is that the time, I’d better get in that kitchen!”

Delia turned to look, jumped a little at the time, and quickly headed to the front door to open up. Behind her, Jessie and Meowth exchanged a wordless glance.

So much for looking the prof in the eye come Monday morning.

We are never telling her.

@yamujiburo

#my fanfic #james/oak #james #professor oak #hanamusa #delia ketchum #jessie #meowth

[the-au-thor]

Bestfriend Blurb #6 | Spencer Reid

Yep, as I always say: if you ask, you'll receive. You asked for them to figure it out. You asked them to finally say it out loud. Here we go! Hope you like it. If you have anything to say, just say it please. And remember this is not my first language and I tried to translate this the best I could. Also I love you, thanks for your love

Remember this is one of a series of blurbs you could read in the links down below:

#1- When he preferred your smile

#2- When he proved he knows you well

#3 - When he wanted you to choose him

#4- When you wanted to make him smile

#5- When you he loved you and you loved him back

Summary: Spencer and reader are bestfriends that love each other, just they haven't done anything about it. Let's see how they'll figure all out.

Words: 1.5k

Warnins: none

You saw Spencer leaving Hotchner's office, appearing to have a serious conversation, but Hotchner had a half-smile and seemed content with whatever they discussed. You hid behind your laptop as your boss briefly glanced in your direction. Spencer started descending the stairs, and you sank further into your seat, but you still felt his gaze on you. You listened to his footsteps leaving the room, then straightened up to make sure he was really gone.

Your heart paused from the marathon it started this morning when you saw him enter the office after you left a note in your apartment explaining "you had to do something (absolutely nothing) before arriving at Quantico". You let out a deep sigh of relief, deciding you could finally focus on the paperwork from the previous case.

"What are you doing exactly?" Emily's voice interrupted you from her desk.

You moved your gaze from the glass door to look at her, as if she had caught you doing something mischievous. "Me?"

Emily dropped her pen on the desk and leaned back, studying you slowly.

"No, my nemesis who has risen from the dead, Doyle," she replied sarcastically, then leaned against her desk and whispered, "Why are we hiding from Reid?"

You furrowed your brow and leaned back in your chair, letting out a nasal laugh. "I'm not hiding from Spencer..."

"You are. You know it. I know it; J.J, Rossi, and Derek know it."

Derek turned a page of his report and nodded without taking his eyes off the file. "Oh yeah."

"Yup," David agreed from his seat.

You looked at J.J on the adjacent desk, and she shrugged while munching on an Oreo, nodding her head slightly. You turned back to Emily, who wore one of her know-it-all smiles and shrugged.

"García doesn't say yes only because she's not here," she added, and then her expression shifted to a slightly more concerned one. "What happened? I thought Reid's surprise would cheer you up.

"You looked at them in surprise. "Wait, did he tell you?"

"No," Prentiss chuckled.

"We are profilers," Rossi glanced at you from the corner of his eye, sipping from his coffee cup with a small satisfied smile. "We know things."

You gave him a annoyed look and sulked in your chair.

"The surprise was good, thanks for asking."

"I didn't ask; I affirmed. I know whatever the boy genius orchestrated made you very happy, which brings me to ask, why aren't you happy?" Emily inquired with curiosity.

"Well, what is this? One of your tenacious and terrifying interrogation room talks?" you asked everyone, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

Derek finally stopped looking at his work to pay attention to you with a sigh.

"Sugar it is very simple, either you tell us what's going on, or we profile you."

You rolled your eyes, knowing they would somehow figure out what was happening with you. On one hand, you were tempted to let them profile you; perhaps they could unravel the mess inside you that you couldn't even identify.

"Don't you think it's weird?" you asked, but none of them seemed to understand what you were talking about. "This, his surprises, don't you find it strange?"

David pressed his lips together but remained silent. J.J then let out a surprised laugh.

"What do you mean? It's... Spencer we're talking about. The Spencer who took you to a Peter Gabriel concert because he knew you were dying to hear 'Solsbury Hill' live, even though he hates crowds," she reminded you.

"The one who didn't reveal certain details in cases so that you could provide them and not feel less in your first months at the BAU," Derek recalled with a half-smile.

"He didn't do that..."

"No, of course not," Prentiss laughed. "Because he also doesn't let you win at chess" she added ironically.

"Hey, I've become very good at chess"

"Not better than Spencer," Derek clarified with a sing-song tone.

You gave him a displeased look.

"Thanks, huh?"

"It's just the truth," Emily genuinely chuckled at your stubbornness. "The point is, Spencer does these thoughtful things for you. It would be strange if he didn't do anything to congratulate you on your exhibition; something we all know meant a great challenge for you."

They all nodded in silent agreement with Emily. Without words, you had no choice but to stop arguing with them. If such behavior was normal for Spencer, did that mean you were perhaps reading too much into it, and your love for him was truly one-sided? Could it be that all this time, Spencer had just been himself and hadn't shown any interest in more than a platonic friendship with you? Since yesterday, you had acted like a coward because you had discovered you loved him, and there was a possibility he felt the same way. After all, who gives up a date just to spend an afternoon locked in with their best friend watching Doctor Who reruns that they could watch any other time? You panicked; he was your best friend, and even though you promised that if something happened, it wouldn't affect the friendship, you knew it was inevitable. Besides, he was also your colleague, and that kind of fraternization within the FBI was practically impossible. There would be tough decisions, inquiries, interrogations, and a probationary period to prove that the relationship wouldn't affect your performance in the field. But what scared you even more was that you could just lose him. Because you loved him so much; you loved how he closed up whenever strong emotions came into him, and you loved stripping away each of his layers until he let you in. You loved listening to him chatter endlessly about something he was passionate about or thought you might find interesting. You loved that he knew so many languages but sometimes struggled to understand the slang of his own mother tongue. You loved his pure heart and always innocent intentions. You loved seeing him with his peculiar weapon and how, in every case, he wished he didn't have to use it. You didn't want to stop loving him just because you couldn't give him what he needed.

"Hey, we didn't say Spencer does that with everyone," J.J, who seemed to read your intrusive thoughts perfectly, saved you from drowning in them, bringing you back to the surface. "He's like that with you," she added firmly, as if wanting to make it clear.

You tried to breathe but found it difficult. It was as if the air had suddenly become dense. You were about to hyperventilate when Hotchner came out of his office at the same time Spencer entered again, looking relieved. Hotch looked at you and then at Spencer, nodding with a solemn gaze before addressing everyone.

"I must announce a new decision that the bureau established starting this morning; Reid will begin to reduce his fieldwork hours to teach university classes."

You furrowed your brow, and your gaze inevitably turned to Spencer, whose eyes were on you as if expecting some kind of reaction. It would come, for sure.

"What?" you asked. "Why?"

The guys turned to Hotchner, awaiting an answer just like you.

"By Spencer's own request" Hotch frowned, somewhat confused, surprising everyone and making everything suddenly move around you.

Thoughts began to bombard you like a meteor shower. Spencer knew; he had found out what you felt for him and was starting to distance himself so as not to hurt you because Spencer was like that. He was considerate even when breaking your heart. Obviously, he would discover your feelings; he was an eminent profiler and knew you like the back of his hand.

"Hey..." you heard your name on Spencer's lips because he had identified the panic on your face and the distress in your eyes.

You looked at him, trying to hold back your tears and compose yourself as best as you could. With false calmness, you placed your hands on the table and then verbalized a decision that seemed to be the most reasonable thing to say.

"I resign."

A sepulchral silence invaded the room, and if you hadn't been so focused on keeping a decent image for a little longer, you might have heard the surprised squeal that came from Derek's throat. Without taking your eyes off Hotchner, you stood up and excused yourself to go to the bathroom because you weren't sure if you could maintain a decent appearance for much longer.

You held on until you crossed the door to start running towards the elevator and try to escape from something that was encapsulated in your head, dulling it, and trying to push the tears out of you. You pressed the elevator button that would take you away from Spencer when you saw his hand preventing doors from closing. You saw his face on the other side of the elevator, and you stayed inside, looking at his stern face and inquisitive gaze; he was searching for some kind of answer in your own face. He would have it, for sure.

"What was that?" He asked

Your lips trembled with nervousness, and then you decided to be completely honest.

"You don't have to leave; I'm leaving. This has been your job since before I arrived, and you shouldn't have to do this for me..."

He frowned almost offended. "What are you talking about?" he asked, taking a step forward and stopping the elevator pressing a button. "What's going on with you? You ignore me the entire weekend, and suddenly you decide to resign to take care of my feelings? How considerate!"

This time, you furrowed your brow. "Ignore you?"

"I'm not an idiot," he accused, making a small accusatory gesture with his hand. "You made your gratitude waffles and left them on the table with a note?"

"I had to go for a run; I wasn't performing as I should in the field, and..." you started to explain but he interrupted you.

"Lies," he lamented. "Lies! You hate sports as much as you hate mornings," he recalled. "And you did the same thing today," he cornered you with his words. "How am I supposed to think you don't want me to leave when you've only been pushing me away?"

That question completely disarmed you; you had left no choice but to opt for silence. You saw him press his lips with determination.

"What do you want?"

Flustered, you gasped, unable to give a neutral answer that would protect you from a broken heart.

"I don't want you to leave."

That genuine response seemed to calm him. His face and shoulders relaxed until the furrowed brow became history, and there was only a hint of weariness in his eyes.

"I'm not leaving, and you don't have to resign," he clarified. "It was a decision I made in conjunction with human resources."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Why would you involve yourself with human resources?" you asked.

Spencer took the time to answer, silently studying you.

"Because I have to prove that I can do my job even when there are feelings involved and assure them that you can do the same thing."

A tingling sensation began to coat the walls of your stomach, and damn if you didn't already know what Spencer was insinuating, but you had to ask him.

"Your feelings have never stopped you from doing your job. Why would the bureau be concerned now...?"

Spencer let out a laugh and briefly looked away from you.

"It's different now because I fell in love with you," he admitted so honestly, so directly, so bravely, and without a hint of fear that the shame for your own fears silenced you. There was something effervescent inside you that numbed your tongue and destabilized any reasoning. Spencer took a step toward you, somewhat hesitant, but he didn't let his shyness stop him. He cradled your face with one of his hands, and his eyes studied your expression. He seemed excited. "And my dear, you fell in love with me," he murmured the last part, resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes to caress your cheek with the soft pad of his fingers. "And I knew you would have fears; I knew your mind would play tricks on you. I knew it in the gallery; that I had to make sure that not a single one of your fears would come true."

You could live a thousand different lives and never do anything remotely worthy of deserving someone like Spencer.

"Spence..." you cried distressed, returning the gesture and cradling his face.

Because while you chose to isolate yourself and heal wounds you didn't yet have, Spencer was trying to eliminate anything that could cause you those wounds in the first place.

"Hey," he tried to calm you while continuing to caress your skin in circular motions. "That's why I talked to Hotchner this morning. That's why I talked to human resources. That's why I'm going to reduce my hours in the field. Because by taking a step back, I'll be closer to you," he admitted as your tears fell down your cheeks and he wiped them away one by one, brushing his nose against yours. "I want this, do you want it?"

You nodded, but you knew it wouldn't be enough; you had to say it out loud.

"I love you too, Spencer. And I'm scared that everything will change" you confessed with a trembling voice.

You felt his soothing smile just millimeters from your lips.

"It will be better," he said before pressing his lips against yours.

You let out a little squeal when the tip of your tongue brushed the smooth surface of his lips. Your back pressed against the cold wall of the elevator, and his chest collided with you as his other hand tenderly caressed your hair.

Nothing in a million years could have prepared you for what a single gesture from Spencer was making you feel. While his lips moved over yours with controlled emotion, and you stretched because you had been so far from him for so long that you needed to be as close as possible now. And for the first time, you didn't need your camera to capture the moment because you knew there was nothing in the world that could make you forget this first kiss.

Spencer watched you as you reluctantly pulled away. He had to maintain control; he could stick to you as much as he wanted at home later. For now, there was a mess to repair in the office with Hotchner; so he took your hand, and waited for the elevator to descend and the doors to open. He didn't expect to face the expectant gazes of your colleagues waiting for both of you outside the elevator. Hotchner had his arms crossed, and Penelope, who apparently had been informed by her not-so-discreet friends, observed your intertwined hands and opened her mouth in surprise.

"Is it done?" she shouted. "And did you wait until I wasn't in the room for everything to happen? Lunatics, I love you, but you are a pain in my elegant ass. I hope you're happy; I bet on this months ago, and frankly, I expected a faster move from you. Now I'll have to give my money to Emily and..."

Hotchner interrupted her to look directly into your eyes.

"I'll ignore your resignation from a few minutes ago, and honestly, I hope something like that doesn't happen again. I didn't bet money, but I did bet on you with the bureau; I vouched for your professionalism, and I know I won't be wrong. But don't make me doubt."

You felt Spencer's fingers give you a calm squeeze, ensuring that you wouldn't hyperventilate again in front of your unit chief because it wouldn't look good.

"Of course, sir. It won't happen again."

For a few seconds that felt like an eternity, Hotch remained serious, and then out of nowhere, he broke into a cheerful smile.

"That's what I wanted to hear. I'm very happy for you guys."

That brought your soul back into your body, and it was the green light your colleagues needed to let out a cheer and congratulate you.

Penelope jumped at you, and Derek at Spencer, while receiving your friend's hug, Spencer watched you, with that look of appreciation that had been directed at you all the time, and then you smiled at him. You gave him that smile that Spencer was willing to choose over anything every day for the rest of his life.

And things changed a bit. But not as your fears predicted. It turns out that now Mondays were Doctor Who Mondays too; the popcorn actually tasted better, and as you nestled between Spencer's legs and he cradled you in his arms that evening upon arriving at your apartment, your home, you knew it wasn't because of the butter, nope. It was because Spencer Walter Reid had chosen you, and you had chosen him.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid bestfriend blurb #friends to lovers #aaron hotchner #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #derek morgan #david rossi

[jjwantsme]

Captain Save A Hoe

j.m

pairing: jj maybank x kook!reader

summary: in which y/n is a spunky girl in a toxic relationship with rafe cameron, and JJ makes it his mission to save her. (click to read part two)

warnings: nsfw, oral (m receiving), cussing,peer pressure, promiscuous!reader, toxic/abusive relationship, jj is so hot, angst, cheating, rafe being an ass per usual, kiara does not like reader 😭, sad jj, pretty short

authors note: i kinda really really REALLY wanna do a part two to this called “i wanna be saved!”…what do we think about that idea👀

masterlist

“God, she’s so hot,” JJ mumbled, watching y/n dance from a far.

“Yeah, well she’s also a hoe-” kiara started.

“Woah!”

“Damn, kie!”

The boys all gaped at her, wondering why the sudden change of mood. “That wasn’t very feminist of you,” JJ snickered, taking a swig of his beer.

“I’m sorry, but it’s true! She’s just a bitch. Plus, she’s dating rafe. That tells us all we need to know!” Kiara shrugged.

“Yeah, well,” JJ moved his eyes back to y/n’s hips, “I don’t give a damn if she’s a kook. I could save her.”

Y/n walked through the isles of the gas station, purse over her shoulder as her hips swayed. Her skirt barely covered her ass and her crop-top ended just above her belly button.

She knew she shouldn’t be around the cut, natural habitat of the pogues, but she had just gotten into a fight with rafe. And she did not feel like being around any other kooks right now.

Sometimes she wondered why she even was with rafe. He treated her like shit, and she reciprocated the behavior most of the time. They had cheated on each other countless of times, it wasn’t even surprising at this point.

They were toxic, without a doubt, but everything about the relationship was so addicting. The arguments, the scandals, the sex…it was all so erotic, y/n couldn’t leave- even if she wanted to.

“Well, would you look at that,” y/n heard JJ whistle, “What’s a pretty kook like you doing over here all alone?”

Y/n turned around to face him, “JJ, right?”

“Yup, that’s me.”

“Oh okay, JJ?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck off.” She flipped him off before turning back around.

'𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝘀 𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘆 𝗮𝘀 𝗶 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁.' JJ thought as he watched her go back to looking at the grocery items.

Ever since that party, JJ was set on bringing that girl home- even if it did mean having to get on her good side.

“Woah, woah, chill out, babe” JJ chuckled, moving to stand beside her, “I didn’t even say anything…yet.”

“Yeah, well, you were thinking it.” y/n took a bag of mini-oreos off the shelf without even meeting his eyes, “what, do you want me to suck your dick, or something?”

“Slow down, there, sweetheart, i barely even know you.” JJ chuckled, resting his hand on the shelf above her, “Definitely not declining, though.”

Y/n sighed, “Look, J- can i call you J?”

“You can call me whatever you want, babe.”

“Right- well, J, i have a boyfriend, alright? So, just…scurry along,” y/n slightly shooed him away with her hand, before turning around on her heel and walking towards the cash register.

“Since when has having a boyfriend ever stopped you?” JJ snickered, following in her footsteps, “Y’know, you have quite the reputation, princess.”

“Rumors aren’t always facts, J.” She mumbled in reply as she paid the cashier, telling him to keep the change.

“Yeah, well, maybe we should fact-check this one. Just incase, y’know?”

Y/n sighed lightly. “If i let you drive me back to rafe’s place, will you leave me be?”

“Say less!” JJ smirked and opened the welcoming-doors for her as she thanked the cashier.

“You are very convincing, I’ll give you that.” Y/n huffed, walking outside and following him to his car.

JJ opened the door for her before jogging around to the driver’s side and getting in.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” y/n mumbled in a sarcastic tone, making JJ snicker for the second time.

“Always got something to say, huh? No wonder rafe calls you a firecracker,”

“He calls me that?” She raised her eyebrows, turning her head to look at him.

He chuckled and nodded, “He calls you alot of things, sweetheart.”

“He���s such a dick.” Y/n mumbled and shook her head, rearranging her position in the seat.

JJ scoffed, “Why are you with him then?”

“Decent dick, good money.” She shrugged, and JJ didn’t miss the way her breasts bounced with each movement.

“You deserve better than ‘Decent’, babe.” He shook his head, dragging his eyes back to the road.

“Yeah? Well, it’s kind of hard to find that on this island.”

JJ snickered for the third, and final, time.

“What’s so funny, hm?”

“I’m way more than decent, sweetheart.”

“Shit, shit, shit, shit-“

JJ moaned as y/n took his full length into her mouth, swirling her tongue and using her hand to fondle with his balls.

He pulled out of her mouth for a second to catch his breath, her looking up at him as he gripped her hair.

“Taste so good, J,” she moaned, practically whimpered, before taking his head back into her mouth as she worked the rest of his cock with her hand.

“Shit, m’ gonna cum-“

Y/n quickly pulled him out of her mouth and jerked in home, only a short amount of distance from her tongue.

“Oh, holy- Good girl, 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹.” He rasped and groaned as he released all over her tongue, and lips, making her whimper.

He panted as he laid back onto the bed, running his hands through his hair. Y/n crawled towards him after she finished swallowing, resting her head on his bare chest and fiddling with his fingers.

JJ felt his heart jump at the feeling.

But that was just the problem.

It had been three weeks since that day at the gas station. Three weeks since the first time they had a proper conversation.

However, it had been two weeks since their first time having sex together, and now it was a reoccurring thing. Every single day. It was a daily routine.

So, yeah, JJ was right; he got to take her home. But, she wasn’t 𝗵𝗶𝘀. And it was really fucking with his head.

He swore to himself he wouldn’t catch romantic feelings. From the moment they started this whole thing, he swore not to.

"𝘀𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹!" He told himself.

"𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝘂𝘀𝘁, 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲!" He told himself.

But, as always, that didn’t go according to plan.

And, he ignored it for as long as he could, but he decided. Today was the day he saved her.

“Hey, uh, y/n?” He spoke a little quietly as he knew they were both still worn out, moving his left hand to her lower back.

“Hm?” She mumbled, her eyes shut.

“When, uh…when do you plan on calling things off with rafe?”

Y/n let out a huff of annoyance and sat up, opening her eyes. “Are we really gonna talk about this 30 seconds after fucking?”

JJ groaned and sat up as well.

That’s another thing. She got mad at him everytime he brought it up.

“Well, sorry, but I’m not the biggest fan of fucking a taken women!”

“Yeah? Well, you’ve been doing it for 14 days, J!” She got up and started getting dressed, knees still weak, “14 days!”

“Cause i fucking like you, y/n!” JJ shouted, immediately regretting it when it left his mouth.

The girl paused her movements, turning to look at him, “You…what?”

“I like you, alright? And i get it, I know that you’re supposed to be this ‘crazy’, ‘promiscuous’ girl that can’t be tied down- but i also know that i’d be way better for you than rafe cameron. I mean, are you kidding me?” He let out, all in one breath.

“JJ,” y/n sighed, “I think we should stop seeing each other.”

“No!” His eyes went wide, “No, y/n, i’m sorry, okay? There, we can pretend i never said anything, I just need to-“

“JJ,”

“Just let me-“

“JJ, I can’t just-“

“I love you, alright?! And I’m not letting go of the small part of your life that i get to be in!” He panted, making y/n’s shut her mouth.

“Just…just give me a chance okay?” He spoke more quietly, “I’ll take you out on a date, a real date, and treat you so much better than cameron ever did. I swear to you, baby.”

Y/n sighed and cupped his cheek. “I think I have feelings for you too, J.”

He let out a small smile.

“But, that’s just more reason for us to end all of this.”

His smile dropped.

“I’m a kook, you’re a pogue…it was never gonna last, JJ.” She backed up from him, putting on her shirt as the two sat in silence for a moment.

JJ just looked around the room, wondering how he got himself in this predicament.

After getting fully dressed, y/n got closer to him and kissed his cheek, “You shouldn’t have tried to save me, I don’t wanna be saved. Bye, JJ.”

She walked out of the messy room, leaving him with a flushed face and broken part.

No.

She was wrong.

He was going to save her, even if it’s the last damn thing he does.

#jj maybank imagine #jj obx #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow x reader #jjwantsme #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj x y/n #jj x reader #jj x you #outer banks

[lipglossanon]

Winter’s Knight

vampire!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

inspired by Leon’s romantic look 😌 and the song Dracula’s Wedding by OutKast 💜 also the poetry mentioned is from Emily Dickinson; there’s also one line plucked from Dracula

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, biting/marking, fated pair, strangers to lovers, blood, blood kink, scent kink, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), OC friend of reader named Lara just in case that throws anyone off, unprotected sex, creampie

title from Winter’s Knight album by Nox Arcana

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!! 💜 😘

“It’s an opportunity of a lifetime,” you mimic in a high tone before rolling your eyes, “opportunity my ass.”

Your friend Lara convinced you to go on this holiday trip with her, all expenses paid, as she wanted the company. The boyfriend that was originally going to be accompanying her had been dumped the week prior. Cheaters never win had been Lara’s flippant reply when asked. 

It felt like it happened overnight and before you knew it, Lara had whisked you away to three different countries one of which being the current visit in question. You think you’re in Romania or maybe Estonia; you’re a little mixed up as your plans had changed mid train ride. 

Lara’s family had some connections in the area and so you were both staying in a rather posh old castle turned tourist destination. 

A very lovely place except now you were completely turned around when all you wanted was to get a bottle of water from the concierge and go back to bed. Your footsteps have slowed considerably as you take in the magnificent gothic architecture and the beautiful paintings ranging from landscapes to some strange brooding man encapsulated in shadows; you’re never fully able to make out what he looks like, too much shadow blanking his features. 

You find yourself at a dead end, ornate furniture filling the space with a singular painting taking up the entire wall. It literally takes your breath away. It must be the place you’re staying in, the front gate still looks the same from what you can tell; it’s this castle seated on a rocky cliff face overlooking the villa down below. Your hand reaches out to touch, but you hover over the gilded frame before dropping it back to your side. 

“Lovely, no?”

A smooth, low voice has you spinning around, a thrill of fear humming in your chest. 

A man stands to the side, a little further down the hall. He’s tall, slim waisted with broad shoulders that stick out to you, even being shrouded in the dim lighting like he is; his eyes shine like an animal’s before you blink and it’s gone. 

That small niggling of fear in your brain is getting louder as he moves closer, making no sound in his sharp dress shoes. 

He keeps his eyes locked on the painting as he stops next to you.

“Quite an ancient castle,” he murmurs, almost too low for you to hear. 

When he finally turns to face you, you almost gasp. He’s beautiful, almost ethereal with his snowy white hair and fair complexion; both make the blue of his eyes almost glacial. 

He smiles sardonically, “Lost?”

You squint your eyes at him, lips pursing in suspicion, “You could say that.”

He grins and his teeth glint sharply before he turns, holding his arm out for you. 

“I can guide you back to your room, miss?”

You smile sarcastically as you step up alongside him, completely ignoring the proffered arm, “Miss is just fine, sir.”

His eyes flick from the end of the hallway to you and he hums in amusement, “Well miss, shall I lead the way?”

“Oh, please do,” you simper and this earns a low chuckle from the handsome stranger, making your heartbeat flutter at the sound. 

He guides you back to the foyer and up the grand staircase, pointing out paintings or furniture that have some kind of significance to the castle. Pausing in front of an oil painting not far from your room, he falls into a sort of melancholy. 

“This was one of the ladies of the castle,” he finally pulls back, turning without looking back at you, “I’m sure you can find the rest of your way, miss.”

You startle, not realizing he was just going to dip out now. 

“Hey!”

He pauses, half turning so you can see the profile of his straight nose and sharp cheekbone.

“Thanks, mister?” You trail off, hand fluttering in the air as you gesture. 

He fully turns to smile at you, “Mister is just fine, thanks.”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, missing the way he lights up at the sound, eyes cataloging you far more closely than before. 

“Well, thanks Mister,” you shake your head, smile still stretched across your face, “maybe I’ll see you around then.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, bowing to you at the waist, “goodnight, Miss.”

“Goodnight,” you tilt your head and wave your hand.

Laughing to yourself, you turn and head further down the hall and into your room.  He watches you until the door clicks shut and he turns back to leave. Pausing in front of the painting once more, he brushes a thumb across the placard on the bottom. 

“She feels like the one, hmm?” He murmurs to the half smiling woman, “now that she’s here, I don’t know if I can do it.”

A door snapping shut from further down the hall has him pulling away from the painting and slipping off into the night. 

You run into the strange gentleman again in the castle gardens situated just to the side of the towering edifice. Since Lara’s pacing in her room trying to figure out what went wrong with your travel plans, you decided to go for a walk instead of sitting around doing nothing.

You’re looking at one of the dead withered trees off to the side, debating if sitting on the bench here is safe from any falling branches when that low smoky tone speaks behind you. 

“There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, that oppresses, like the heft of cathedral tunes.”

You squash your urge to jump in place and spin around to face him. He’s no less devastatingly pretty in the weak winter sunlight. 

“Good afternoon to you, too,” you smile, enjoying the weirdness he exudes, “and what a conversation starter, might I add.”

He meets your smile with his own little grin, “Somber poetry for a somber day.”

You giggle, “Guess so.”

He gestures and you sit on the bench as he takes a seat next to you. 

“Here on vacation?” You kick at a loose rock with your booted foot.

“You could say I’m here for leisure,” he muses, blue eyes taking in every nuance of you. 

You tilt your head to look at him, “Oh I could, huh?”

Laughing, you straighten up, hands fiddling with the clasp on your jacket, “Well, I’m also here for leisure. Even though it’s kind of an accident.”

He raises an eyebrow and you continue, “It was a mix up and we ended up here. A vacation, just not in the right place.”

“How fortunate am I,” he smirks and you feel heat blaze in your chest, eyes dropping to look down at your jacket. 

You tug on the zipper, catching your finger in the teeth with a hiss. It snags a bit of skin as you jerk it free, blood beading on your fingertip.

His features are serious as he takes your hand in his, “You must see to it so it doesn’t become infected.”

You nod, touched at his concern, “I have some alcohol swabs and bandaids up in my room.”

He brings your hand closer and you get the wild idea he means to suck your finger into his mouth, but he only kisses the back of your hand as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, a light gray fabric that looks like it costs more than your entire wardrobe. You catch his initials, L.S.K., monogrammed in black on the edge. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling flushed in the cool afternoon air as you clasp the handkerchief to your finger. 

“My pleasure. Shall I escort you back to your room, miss?”

Lips parting, you take in his pinched features as he stares at your hand before nodding again, “Yes, please.”

His eyes snap up and he smiles, relief spreading across his face, “Good, good.”

Once you’re both standing, he snags your elbow with his fingers and gently guides you along. Since he’s much closer than before and you’re not sniffling from the cold air, you catch a strong smell of cedar and cloves that nearly makes you swoon. 

“Are you okay?” He stops, grip firming up on your bicep to tug you closer making the smell even stronger. 

“‘m okay,” you murmur, eyes drooping as you slump against his chest, “just smell good.”

You feel him laugh and the low baritone makes your cunt throb so hard you whine into his jacket. 

“Maybe moving from the cold into the warmth has made you dizzy,” he says kindly, “come, let me help you to your room.”

Completely unsure as to what’s happening to you, you let him lead you back to your room. Your legs don’t seem to want to move the way you want to and the more you breathe in whatever cologne he’s wearing, the more slick drips from your pussy into the gusset of your panties to the point you’re soaked between your thighs. 

He murmurs low platitudes in your ear that just makes everything better worse, so by the time you make it back to your room and he eases you down into your bed, you’re asking him to stay. 

“No. You’ll thank me later,” he soothes, pulling off your winter boots and tucking you under the covers. 

“Please,” tears prick your waterline, emotions and hormones all over the place. 

His lips thin and he runs a hand through his white hair, strands ruffled when he clasps your hands together, “Just close your eyes. I’ll stay here.”

Dropping to the floor, he kneels alongside your bed, keeping your hands together. Struggling to keep your eyes open, you just know he won’t be there when you wake up and some part of you hates that idea. 

“Didn’t think it would affect you like this,” he murmurs as you drift off. 

With a small shift, he moves forward and pulls the pricked finger into his mouth. His hot tongue lashing against the digit is the last thing your mind holds onto before it slips away like sand in the tide. 

When you come to, it’s dark outside and Lara is shaking your shoulder. 

“Finally,” she huffs, brows pinched, “thought I was gonna have to take you to a doctor or something. You good?”

You squint at her but can’t remember anything but the stranger you met helping you back inside from the cold. The rest is a cloudy blank in your mind. 

“Yeah, just tired I guess,” you raise up, pushing the blankets away to swing your feet out of bed, “what’s up?” 

As you shift, you notice a small square cloth and a bolt of memory, of sitting on the bench with that man, makes your eyes widen. You pick up the handkerchief and tuck it into your pocket. 

She smiles weakly, “Kinda stuck here a few more days then we’ll just fly back home in time for Christmas.”

You frown, an uncomfortable sadness pinging in your chest, “Oh? That’s fine. I like it here, so it’s not like it’s a hardship.”

Lara laughs, “Maybe for you. I’m ready to be somewhere that has pizza delivery.”

You grin, “Fair enough,” you push her shoulder, “well, when do we plan on leaving?”

“Two days is what my travel agent says,” she looks down at her phone, “that was the nearest opening since it’s the busy season and plus a storm is coming in tonight.”

“Ahh,” you nod along, “plenty of time to sightsee then.”

She giggles at your teasing and stands up from the bed, “I just wanted to let you know. It’s kinda late but the kitchen’s still open if you wanna grab something. I’m honestly exhausted from being on the phone all day so I’m gonna crash.”

“Hang on!”

You throw on some shoes and meet her at the door, “I’ll walk you to your room and head down to grab some food. You sure you don’t want anything?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head, “I had something earlier since I thought you’d eaten. You sure you’re feeling okay, though?”

“Mmhmm,” you smile, pausing outside her door, “promise.”

She returns your smile, “Okay, goodnight then.”

“Night!”

The door snaps shut behind you as you walk away, heading to the staircase and down to the restaurant. You take your time, stopping to look at various paintings on the way down, even pausing in front of a suit of armor to peer into the empty helm. 

“Expecting a skeleton?”

You jump backwards, nearly tripping as you stumble into the firm chest behind you. 

Righting yourself, you feel hot all over in embarrassment as you meet your strange acquaintance for the second time today. 

“U-uh, hi,” you feel jittery with nerves, like a new crush, “thank you for today by the way. I don’t know how I got into my room, but I’m guessing you helped?”

His brows raise in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by a warm smile that makes butterflies flutter in your chest, “Yes, you weren’t feeling well. Dizzy from the temperature change.”

You take a half step back, leaving more distance between you two. 

“Well, thank you,” you clear your throat, “uh, I was going down for a late dinner, do you want to join me?”

A sly grin crosses his features making you nervous, “I’d be delighted although I’ve already.. eaten this evening.”

“O-oh okay,” you stumble over your words as you turn to walk down the stairs, “anything you’d recommend?”

A sharp bark of laughter escapes him as he walks alongside you, “No, nothing I’d recommend. Although I’ve heard their special today is excellent.”

Surprised at his outburst, your brows furrow as you smile in confusion, “If you say so.”

You lapse into a comfortable silence as you both make the walk to the dining room. There’s just something about him that draws you in like a moth to a flame. At first you just thought it was his strange mannerisms, but in the short span of time that you’ve spent together you just feel connected on some hidden level that you’ve only just discovered. 

Dinner is a quiet affair; the strange man, who you still don’t know the name of, joins you for your meal. He makes small talk about the local area in which he’s well informed about, no surprise. After you’ve finished your meal, he offers to take you out for an after dinner stroll around the castle before bed. 

Not wanting to leave his company just yet, you readily agree and let him lead you around the place. It’s as he’s guiding you down a long L shaped hallway filled with more paintings that a chill runs down your spine and he freezes in place, half turning to shield you from the person who seems to materialize in front of you two. 

“Hello, Leon,” a silky voice purrs as a beautiful woman steps into view. 

She’s beautiful and ethereal in a way that’s almost terrifying, much like the mysterious gentleman half blocking your view; Leon she called him. 

“What a lovely surprise,” she steps closer, form appearing to ripple in the dappled moonlight streaming from the windows. 

“Ada, how can I be of service?” His polite tone’s cold and to the point, even as he pushes you further behind him. 

“Aww, don’t be like that,” she lilts, voice playful and coaxing, “I’ve already seen your pretty playmate. Is she a new friend?”

You blink and the dark haired woman is standing next to you, Leon twisting uncomfortably to turn around. 

She twirls a strand of your hair with a manicured nail, “I won’t bite. Unless she asks,” she winks at you and your eyes widen in surprise.

“She’s new, yes. A visitor,” Leon’s hand reaches out to grasp your hip, tugging you into his side, “so don’t play games.”

“Games?” She laughs, eyes bright, “are you still sore that I stole Claire away?” she pouts at him, “she wasn’t your one, so why are you still upset?”

You watch all of this with rapt attention and so much confusion. 

He scowls at her, eyes darkening as he straightens his stance, “It doesn’t matter if she was the right one or not, you stole her away from me.”

She laughs outright at that, side stepping away from you and closer to him, “Can’t steal someone if they want to be taken, right, Leon?”

He deflates a little, gaze flitting to you and back to her, “What do you want now?”

“To bother you,” she smiles over at you and you notice her incisors are longer than normal, “since I’m just passing through, thought I would say hello to an old friend.”

They stare at each other for a beat longer than what’s comfortable before she sighs melodramatically. 

“As much as I would love to stay, and believe me I want to so very badly,” she blows a kiss at Leon as she walks backwards to the far end of the gallery, “I do have unfinished business nearby that I must take care of. Ciao!”

It’s so quiet after she leaves that the ringing in your ears sounds abnormally loud. 

Leon clears his throat and gives you an apologetic smile, “I’m very sorry about all of that.”

You wave your hands, “No worries. It’s not really my business, y’know.”

He winces at that and you scrunch your nose, internally cringing at yourself. It’s a somber feeling as he quietly leads you back to your room. 

Pausing at the threshold, you reach out and snag the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Hey,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to the fabric you’ve pinched between your fingers, “you wanna meet up tomorrow?”

He frowns although you don’t see it and slowly tugs his arm loose, “I don’t know.”

Whatever feeling that has been building in your chest feels like a punctured balloon at his flippant tone. 

“Oh,” you drop his shirt like it burns, willing the tears away at least until you can shut the door, “I-I didn’t mean to— nevermind. Kinda silly of me. Hopefully I’ll see you before we leave.”

His fingers circle around your wrist tightly, holding you in place, “You’re leaving?”

You level him with a flat stare, “Of course. We’re only here for a couple more days. So if you’ll excuse—“

He presses forward, pushing you through the doorway to follow after, letting the door swing shut behind you both. 

“Let go of me,” you twist your arm but Leon doesn’t budge. 

A concentrated look arrests his features, blue eyes skimming down your body and back up to your face. 

“Leon,” you bite out sharply, making him draw up short, “that’s your name, right?”

“Yes,” his eyes look wild as he lets go of your wrist to grasp both of your hands with his own, “yes, my name is Leon. Leon Kennedy. I’m sorry, this isn’t quite how I wanted things to go.”

You finally pull your arm away, “I’d like it if you left. I’m really confused and you’re acting strange.”

He looks at you so sadly it makes your chest hurt, “Can I show you something? I’ll leave you alone after that if that's what you’d like.”

Pursing your lips, you squint at him until you finally nod, “Alright.”

His shoulders sag and he walks back over to the door. Holding it open, he waits until you cross the threshold before stepping back in front of you. You make the short walk to the painting down the hall from your door when Leon pauses. 

You look at the painting then to his serious face with raised brows.

“You’re showing me this again?” Confusion colors your tone, “am I missing something?”

“Have you read the name underneath?”

Shaking your head no, you step forward to read the small gold plate underneath. 

“Claire Kennedy née Redfield,” you murmur to yourself. 

Claire? That mysterious woman mentioned her name earlier. The one Leon said she stole away. The correlation is there but you feel like you’re missing a huge part of the puzzle to actually end up at the correct explanation. 

You turn to Leon, “So is this the Claire you were talking about?”

He nods, eyes heavy and sad as he flits his gaze between you and the painting, “Yes. It was a political marriage. We were friends before everything happened.”

“Ookay,” you frown again, “so she ran off with her girlfriend?”

He flinches at that, “My other wife.”

You feel floored, “Wait, what?!”

Rubbing your forehead, you’re getting a pain behind your left eye from trying to parse it all together. 

“So, your new wife ran off with your then current wife? Am I getting that right? How long ago was this, Leon?”

He gestures a little wildly at the plaque, “You didn’t see the year?”

Squinting, you lean forward and can make out circa 1849. 

“Fuck off,” you blurt out, leaning back and taking a half step away, “what kinda joke is this?”

“I wait my whole life to bite the right one,” he mutters to himself, hand raking through his parted hair, “that’s not to say I didn’t mess up a couple of times before.”

You take another step back, away from Leon, “What do you mean?”

His eyes snap over to you and you freeze in place. Everything about him seems to be amplified to ten now, he’s exuding an energy that makes the hair on your arms stand up. 

“You’re the one,” he steps up until he’s in your personal space, “Ada and Claire were accidents. I didn’t realize that there’s only one compatible partner for me.”  

“Compatible partner?” voice pitching high, “you sound crazy right now.”

His brows lower, “You feel it too, little miss. It’s why you passed out earlier. Blood calls to blood.”

You’re hit with a wall of need so crippling your legs give out making you come down hard on your knees. 

“I’ve been shielding you,” he murmurs, kneeling in front of you, hands reaching out to brush across your jaw and neck, “it’s a lot to take in, I know.”

Gasping in deep breaths, you’re overwhelmed with the scent of cedar and cloves from earlier. You don’t know how you forgot that smell but now it’s all you can concentrate on; your head goes fuzzy as arousal sweeps through your body. 

“What is this?” you slur, eyes hazy as you slump forward into Leon’s shoulder, “what did you do t’me?”

“Nothing,” he soothes, petting down your back, “it’s just the effect of the compatibility. I can’t explain it; I just instinctively know it’s right.”

Reaching out, your hands weakly clasp at his shirt, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay,” he coos, “let me take you to my room.”

Not able to argue against him, he easily lifts you into a bridal carry. He uses one hand to block your eyes and you feel cold wind before he removes his palm and you see you’re in a room three times the size of your own. Leon eases you down onto an absurdly luxurious bed, sheer drapes lost to the shadows of the ceiling. 

Once he steps away, leaving a sizable gap between you both, the dizziness subsides and your thoughts aren’t as fleeting. 

“What the fuck?” you whisper, hands shakily brushing wisps of your hair back from your face, “what the ever loving fuck? Am I losing my mind?”

Your eyes quickly dart around, taking in the opulate furnishings and huge windows overlooking the cliff side, showcasing you now must be on the upper level of the castle. Your gaze lands on a time worn painting off to the side of Leon and his first wife, the dark haired beauty he called Ada. Next to it is another portrait of his second wife, Claire, yet another beautiful woman with red hair. 

Leon’s hands ball into fists at his sides as he takes in a deep breath, “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Leon, what’s going on?” Your voice breaks, mind struggling to keep up with what’s happening to you. 

“My first wife,” he points to the older portrait, “we were human at the time.”

“At the time?” You squeak out.

He hums, eyes flashing in the low light, “Yes. Then the change occurred to me after getting lost on a hunting trip. When I returned, I offered it to her but she refused,” he tilts his head up and shields his eyes with a hand, “and I made her like me anyways. She was my wife. Our vows were to be together in sickness and in health. She didn’t see it that way.”

You watch as he shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping to the portrait with his fingers outstretched but never outright touching the canvas. 

“She said it was til death do us part but I thought she was my one,” he sighs sorrowfully, “so I changed her and she loathed me. She eventually left one night never to come back. I didn’t chase after her, resigned to her resentment. I didn’t hear from her for hundreds of years. Then Claire came along.”

Your eyes jump from Ada to the smiling redhead in the other portrait. 

“Her brother needed her to marry someone with an upstanding background; someone with title and lands to trade,” he smiles bitterly at you, “I posed as my own great great nephew and set up the marriage. We became friends through our letters and when we wed it was wonderful. I kept what I was from her for as long as possible.”

He steps over to you and you flinch making his eyes droop in pain. 

“She figured it out quickly, such a smart woman,” he smiles crookedly, “I loved her dearly, but she wasn’t enough either. I changed her thinking that this is it, but it wasn’t. She wasn’t the one either. Ada came soon after and easily whisked her away from me.”

He sighs forlornly. Your lips part but you change your mind and refrain from saying anything. 

“Claire’s brother even convinced Ada to change him so he could defend her honor against me,” he blows out a short breath, “letting you know in case he shows up to be the gallant hero.”

“Leon,” you murmur, at a complete loss for words. 

“We all understand each other now and they’re happy where they are,” he laughs derisively at himself, “and I’ve lived alone here, running this place through a shell company hoping against hope for just one more chance.”

“This is insane,” you finally say to him, “you’re telling me you’re a vampire and I’m beholden to you? And on top of that you practically have a coven. This is impossible.”

“But you feel the pull, too,” his voice dips into that low smoky tenor, “you’re the one. You are to be my new bride.”

Your laugh startles you both, but you can’t stop the manic giggles once they start. Once the mania seems to pass and with it your hysterical laughter, you finally get yourself under control and clear your throat. 

“Prove it,” you tell him seriously, heart beating so fast your sure he can hear it, “let me see this vampire side of yours and if I believe you, if you convince me, then I’ll be your bride.”

His smile lights up his whole face making your breath catch.

“That’s easily done.”

He stands directly in front of you and that strange energy fills the room; you watch in complete astonishment as he looks like he dissolves until there’s only mist floating in the air. It drifts languidly past you and you feel the bed dip with body weight. 

His hot breath caresses your ear, “Is that enough, little bride?”

A full body shudder hits you as he kisses across your neck, the sharp prick of fangs dragging across your skin. 

“Let me bite you,” he whispers sweetly, “let me show you how deep our bond truly is.”

Feeling completely off centered, you breathe out one word without thinking, going with only what feels right.

“Yes.”

His teeth sink into the side of your neck and you cum, slick filling your panties until you’re sure it’s dripping down your thighs. It feels like a typhoon of emotions rains down through your body, pleasure so strong your eyes sting; then, it’s swept through to be quickly replaced by a feeling of home so deeply connected to the man behind you you could openly weep. It’s like a puzzle piece slotting into place somewhere in your chest. 

Moaning, your hands scratch at the bedding and he hums against your skin. Pulling away with a low groan, he runs his tongue over the puncture marks. 

“So good,” he mouths against your jaw, “let me mark you again.”

Whimpering, you lean back against him as he sinks his teeth into a new spot, softly sucking blood from the wound. His hands slip around your waist to pull you into the V of his thighs. You choke out a whine as your cunt throbs, on the verge of another orgasm and he hasn’t even touched you intimately aside from his teeth in your neck. 

“Leon,” you keen, one hand reaching over your head to tangle in his soft, snowy hair.

Chillbumps race down your body when he finally pulls away to place a soft kiss on the bite. He sucks at the tender skin making you mewl longingly until he pulls away with a sigh. 

“Let me taste that sweet little pussy,” he purrs in your ear, “I have been dreaming of biting your thighs and kissing your cunt til you can’t take anymore.”

Tugging his hair harder, you whimper and nod your head, “Please, Leon.”

The scent of cedar comes across stronger as he kisses your neck one last time before shifting you both until you’re laying back on his bed. He strokes his hands all down your body, eyes drinking in your expressions.

“You’ve been driving me crazy this entire time,” he slowly undresses you, scraping his sharp incisors against the skin he reveals, “smell so good, so sweet. Makes my mouth water.”

You whimper while watching as he unbuttons your jeans and works them and your panties off of your legs. He groans to see the slick mess between your thighs, cunt glistening with your arousal. 

“Look at you,” he breathes out, blown out pupils flicking up to your own dazed eyes. 

Wasting no time, he lays down between your spread legs and kisses the top of your pussy, ignoring where you most want his mouth. He drags his lips down and then buries his face in your cunt, spreading your lips apart with his tongue as he licks all over your pussy. Grunting, he shoves his tongue into your hole to spear you open on the thick muscle. 

“Leon,” you whisper down to him, feeling so turned on you can’t think straight. 

He groans and pulls back, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With a sigh, you relax against the sheets only to jolt as your pussy throbs when he bites you at the crease where your cunt meets your thigh. 

Crying out softly, your head thrashes against his bed as he repeats it on the other side. 

“I know, but bear with me,” he murmurs, blood coating his mouth as he lovingly kisses the puncture wounds, “doing so well.”

You splay back out against his sheets as he buries his face between your thighs again. He keeps your legs spread as he slowly kisses and sucks at your cunt, like he’s never tasted anything better in his life. Everything’s sensitive and on the verge of too much, but you wouldn’t dream of asking him to stop. That slow syrupy pleasure that’s made your thoughts honey thick is more than welcome. 

He laps along the seam of your pussy lips until he glides the tip of his tongue up to the hood of your clit. Leon circles the pudgy bud all slow and soft, tongue dipping down to flutter inside your soaked hole. Groaning at the slick flooding his mouth, he laps at your cunt with long broad strokes of his tongue. He pulls back to suck on your pussy lips before kissing across to your thigh and sinking those sharp fangs into your supple skin. 

Your back arches, a low whine spilling from your kiss bitten lips. He kisses and sucks the bitemark until it's ugly and irritated, then drags his lips back to your cunt, kissing your mound softly.  He makes out with your pussy with hot and bloody open mouthed kisses, spit drenching your swollen clit as you moan loudly. 

Your orgasm builds higher and higher until it’s a tight band ready to snap in your lower belly. Leon senses you getting closer from your body spasming and your voice gaining in volume as he greedily eats your cunt, hungry eyes watching you from between your legs. 

With a low keening groan rumbling from deep in his chest, he sinks his fangs into your fat pussy lips as he fucks his tongue into your clenching hole. That pinprick of pain flooded by intense pleasure is enough to push you completely over the edge. Wailing, your spine bows as your climax floods through your body, cunt pulsing and gushing slick as your toes curl in the sheets. 

Almost growling into your pussy, Leon flutters his tongue into your hole, lapping up all the slick dripping from your cunt, tongue loudly squelching in and out of your clenching walls. 

He finally pulls away with a low moan of pleasure, lower jaw coated with slick and blood. 

“So good for me, little bride,” he slinks up your body, joints moving unnaturally but you're hardly able to think past the pleasure buzzing in your brain, “going to make you mine, keep you forever.”

 Humming, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him down into the messiest kiss of the night. He almost snarls into your kisses as he gets rougher, tongue and teeth dominating your mouth, a bruising pressure on your lips. 

“Promise me you’ll stay,” he demands, eyes flashing at you as he presses you down harder into the mattress, “stay with me, be mine.”

You softly brush back his hair, voice soothing as you reply, “I promise, Leon. I’m all yours. I’ll be your new bride.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck before sinking those deliciously sharp teeth into you again. Weakly moaning, your eyes roll back as your clit throbs in time with your heartbeat. You feel him shudder when he pulls away to kiss the sluggishly bleeding marks.

“My bride,” he sighs, dragging his pouty lips across your jaw, nose tracing your skin, “you promise to give me all that you are.. all that you will be.”

“Promise,” you gasp out as his hand sneaks down to tease across your clit, cunt soaking the sheets further with fresh slick, “promise, Leon.”

He kisses you then, the hot copper tang of blood flavoring his sweet sentiment. You’re swept under another tide of arousal from his messy lips and tongue while his fingers play with your pudgy clit. 

He shifts until he’s next to you, blood smeared mouth parted as his eyes trail down your body. Gripping your hip, he helps turn your body to face him, leaving you both lying on your sides. Your hands reach out to trail down his chest just now noticing that he’s still dressed.

“No fair,” you tease, tugging on the silky  material.

He laughs softly, bringing your hand up to kiss your inner wrist before scraping his fangs across the sensitive skin making you shiver. Letting go of your hand, he quickly undresses, dropping his clothes off the side of the bed in a heap. You bite your lip, taking in the long lean lines of his body, eyes widening to see his thick cock filled out and resting against his thigh. 

“Leon,” you breathe out, wide eyes tracking back up to his pale blue ones. 

This time your hands lightly scratch along his pecs to his twitching abdominal muscles, nails barely scratch the soft thatch of hair above his hard cock. 

“You can touch me, liebling,” his lips quirk up into a half smile, “I only bite a little.”

A giggle slips out and your hand grasps the base of his dick and squeezes earning a low groan from the handsome man next to you. 

“Stroke me, tease me, do whatever you wish,” he murmurs, hands coming up to cup your breasts, “I’ll enjoy it all.”

You whimper as his long fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles across your stiff nipples.

While one of your hands teases the head of his dick, you slide the other one to cup his balls making his cock kick, blurting precum onto your fingers.

“It’s so sticky,” you murmur unthinkingly, smearing the precum around his tip making it slippery for your fingers to rub across. 

He groans loudly, bucking his hips and sliding his cock through your fingers in a clumsy effort to fuck your loose fist. 

“And these are so sensitive,” his low tone razes goosebumps as he tweaks and pinches your nipples until you’re rubbing your thighs together. 

“Leon,” you moan, arching your back to press your breasts more firmly into his hands. 

“I haven’t had a chance to taste these,” he purrs, ducking his head to nip your chest.

“Please,” you tighten your hand around his cock and pump your fist, “bite me.”

He presses closer against you, hands pushing your breasts up as he dips his head down. Kissing the stiff peak, he licks around the puckered skin close to your nipple. 

“Smell so good,” he mumbles, kissing your nipple softly before sucking it into his mouth. 

He rolls his tongue around the hard bud before pulling away with a soft pop. He drags his lips down to suck on the skin underneath your breast before opening his mouth and biting deep into the tender flesh. 

“Oh god,” you cry out, body writhing so much Leon has to use one hand to grip your ribcage tightly to keep you still. 

You're too out of it to jerk him off, hands instead moving to grab onto his hips. He pulls away with a gasp only to sink his bloody teeth into the soft fat of your other breast. Your cunt is a drippy mess by the time he pulls away the second time, tongue sucking the blood off his fangs as his eyes seem to shine with unnatural light. 

“The finest of wines,” he smiles at you, licking his lips slowly. 

Your cunt throbs and aches, walls fluttering around nothing—feeling empty and needy. 

“Leon,” you grab his hand and guide it to your soaked cunt, “please, I want you.”

“Oh my beautiful bride, so wet and ready for me,” he hisses, easily sinking two fingers knuckle deep into your clenching pussy.

Your hands move from his hips to dig into his shoulders making him grind his fingers deeper into your aching cunt. He pulls them halfway out before thrusting them back in, the flat of his palm smacking against your swollen clit. 

Nails digging deeper into his skin, you rock your hips in time with his hand, whining and moaning as he fingerfucks your pussy rough and deep. 

“Such a sweet little wife I have,” he kisses your ear as your eyes struggle to stay open, cunt clamping down on his fingers from the endearment. 

He drags his cock against your thigh, smearing precum against your skin to mix with the slick dripping from your pussy. 

“I want to be inside you,” he whispers hotly against your lips, “I want to be buried deep in my bride’s pussy as I drink from her pleasured body.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, throat dry from all your gasping and panting, “I need you inside me, Leon. Please.”

He pulls his fingers out slowly making you  whimper once your cunt’s empty again. Leon shushes you gently, gripping his cock in one hand while his other grabs your thigh and wraps it over his waist. Rubbing the fat head of dick up and down your slit, he teases his cock across your hole before using the tip to part your pussy lips and rub across your sensitive clit.

You rock your hips forward and he kisses your neck, tongue lapping at the marks he left. Moving his cock back down, he slowly presses his dick into your leaking hole. 

“So tight,” he murmurs, praise lacing his tone and making you hump down onto his cock.

He lets you work your wet cunt on his dick until he’s buried fully inside your pulsing heat. 

“Needed this,” he groans, rutting his cock slowly in and out of your pussy, “needed to be inside of you, a part of you.”

Pleasure washes over you like the tide meeting the shore. Leon’s cock grinds against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt making you ooze slick until it’s dripping down his balls, leaving a creamy ring around the base of his dick. 

With a small shift, he rolls you completely over onto your back, body weight pressing you down into the mattress as he fucks in deeper inside your fluttering pussy. His pelvis grinds down onto your pudgy clit sending little bolts of desire throughout your whole body. 

“Leon, so good,” you whimper, fingers grasping at his biceps, hips rolling forward to keep his dick inside you, leaking tip pressed against your cervix. 

“Taking me so well, a perfect fit,” he kisses you gently, sucking your tongue into his mouth, teeth nicking the muscle causing blood to flavor your kisses. 

Moaning hungrily, Leon gets rougher, mouth pressing against yours so tightly your teeth ache. A high keening cry slips out between the bruising press of Leon’s lips against yours. Pulling away, he growls and drags his mouth to your neck, lathing his tongue against the multitude of wounds he left earlier. 

“So tight around me, are you getting close, little love?” He chuckles and teases your neck with his teeth making you keen and squirm against him. 

“Yes, please, ‘m close,” you moan, legs coming up to wrap tightly around his waist, “w’nna cum, wanna feel you inside me.”

Leon hums and swivels his hips, rutting his cock into your cunt without pulling out until you’re clawing at his back with short choked off whines. He grinds against your clit until your eyes roll back into your head. 

His teeth sink into your neck one last time, pushing you over the edge for the second time as your orgasm crashes through your body. Crying out, your arms and legs lock around Leon’s body, head thrown back as your cunt clenches around his dick. 

“So lovely,” he pulls back, licking the blood away from your neck, “my perfect bride.” 

He rabbits his hips into your squelching cunt until finally stilling, cock buried balls deep inside your spasming pussy as you milk his throbbing dick. Your pussy walls flutter and clamp down around him as he spills hot and sticky inside your slick heat. 

“Beautiful,” he kisses your earlobe with a sigh, cock kicking inside your pussy as he finishes painting your walls white. 

Endorphins make you dizzy and bubbly, smiling up at Leon’s blood stained face as he gazes lovingly down at you. 

“My husband,” you murmur, lovesick and sweet, hands coming up to caress his face and he kisses each of your palms. 

“All yours,” he promises seriously, “there is a reason why all things are as they are.”

You laugh and smooth a thumb under his eye, “You’re so cute.”

He snorts a laugh, delighting you immensely, and settles down into the messy sheets before pulling you into his chest. 

With a soft kiss placed atop his heart, you snuggle into his body until he wraps his arms around you. The soft rise and fall of his chest lulls you to sleep. 

Talking to Lara the next day is surprisingly easy. You have the feeling Leon used some weird vampire energy on her since she seemed unusually chill about it. Promising you that she’ll keep in touch once she heads back home, you spend the few short hours she has left together before she leaves early for the airport. 

It’s sad to see her go, but with Leon’s steady presence next to you filling your senses with that wonderful smell of cloves and cedar, you have zero regret in staying. 

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #12 days of smutmas #smutmas 2023 #ao3rex #vampire leon kennedy #vampire!leon kennedy #vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader #vampire!leon kennedy smut #vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader smut #vampire!leon s kennedy #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #vampire!leon s kennedy smut #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #au

[ann4zw]

My Perfect Girl.

N/a: Let's start with an apology. Because English is not my native language and I know there can be a lot of mistakes in English. I would appreciate if you could inform me about this error.I've written a thing or two before, but this is the first time I've written something like this and it's about Hayden and one of his characters. I've never written anything NSFW either, but I hope you like it, kisses from Ana. (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Content warnings: NSFW content!! Sam Monroe x reader, mention of drugs (marijuana), explicit sex, characters of legal age.

You were returning from a long walk to clear your head. Before leaving the house, you had a heated fight with your parents. Immersed in a sea of emotions, you found yourself weighed down by the overwhelming weight of being constantly underestimated. His weakened self-esteem reflected the lack of recognition from his family, who inadvertently focused more on expectations and demands than on his true qualities and efforts dedicated to them.

Every benevolent act you performed seemed to disappear in the shadow of family demands, without receiving the praise and recognition it deserved. The constant pressure left you immersed in a feeling of devaluation, as if the light of your achievements were constantly dimmed by the incessant noise of demands.

The bitter melody of lack of recognition echoed in his heart, even as he struggled to provide support and care to those around him.

In the middle of this tumultuous path, his eyes met those of Sam Monroe, his dear neighbor, who was on the porch of his house smoking marijuana. The moon cast a soft light over the scene, and when their eyes met, Sam gave a small wave in his direction. With nothing to lose, you decided to get closer, you didn't want to go home anyway.

"Are you humble enough to share the dram?" he asked, staring at Sam with a smirk as he leaned against the porch. He replied with a sarcastic smile, "I didn't think Miss Perfect was into that kind of thing," but he eventually gave in and shared the joint.

"Perfection is overrated, don't you think? Sometimes we need to escape the pressure and just live." You with a yellow smile as you took the joint to your mouth and took a light drag, you feel Sam watching you as you do so.

"True. Life is complicated enough. Sometimes a break is all we need." Sam responds by changing the direction of his gaze to the moon.

As you share light-hearted laughter and thoughts, the initial tension between you melts away. Sam, more seriously, asks, "What about you? What brought you here on this complicated night?"

You hesitate for a moment but end up deciding to share, once again, what do you have to lose? "Family, expectations... I feel like I'm always trying to meet their demands, but it's never enough."

Sam looks at you in a way you can't decipher and says. "I understand."

The conversation flows smoothly, and as the joint is shared, a deeper connection is established. You suddenly feel Sam's hand caressing his face, and then you turn your face slightly so you can meet his eyes, oh, those eyes...

"You're so..." he seems to get a little lost for words but ends with "beautiful." you feel a slight fervor on your face when you hear the praise coming from Sam, before you can respond he speaks; "I could kiss you right now." he said with an amused tone as he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"Then kiss.." I take the courage out of my ass to say that but I'm glad I said it.

Heart racing, hands shaking slightly. I look into Sam's deep eyes, feeling the electric energy between us. With a playful smile on his face, he leans towards me slightly, capturing my lips softly. The kiss starts out soft and tentative, but soon turns into something more intense and passionate. Sam's hands lightly cup his face, while I surrender to the moment, feeling the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of the kiss. It's a magical moment, where the world around you disappears, and you find yourself immersed in the intimacy of this special moment.

Your breathing gets deeper as Sam's kisses send goosebumps across your skin. You feel enveloped by a wave of desire, an intense fire burning within you. With a shaking hand, you caress Sam's face as he continues to explore every inch of your neck. Every touch, every movement, seems to electrify his body, making his senses seem to be on edge, completely surrendered to the overwhelming passion of the moment. Whispers of pleasure escape your lips, and you feel completely enveloped by this intense connection with Sam. The world around you disappears as you give in to the pure emotion of the moment.

With a quick movement, Sam traps you between him and the balcony, holding tight to your waist, while lowering his lips to his neck. You rest your hand on the back of his neck, lightly pulling his dyed black hair, feeling his body react with heat and fervor to the hot kiss that Sam places on his neck. His every touch is like a flame that ignites his skin, taking you to a state of ecstasy and complete surrender to the fiery moment you share.

Your breathing gets deeper as Sam's kisses send goosebumps across your skin. You feel enveloped by a wave of desire, an intense fire burning within you. Every touch, every movement, seems to electrify your body, making your senses seem to be on edge. Whispers of pleasure escape your lips, and you feel completely enveloped by this intense connection with Sam. The world around you disappears as you give in to the pure emotion of the moment.

Sam suddenly stops the kisses, and you look at him with a confused look. "We can't do that here, pretty." he says. You have a great idea and look at him with a mischievous smile. He soon returns the smile, curious about what is going on in your mind, and his eyes shine brightly as he waits to find out what you are planning.

With a quick, purposeful movement, you grab Sam's hand and pull him towards your house. As soon as you enter the main door, you hear murmurs coming from the kitchen, where your parents are busy with some activity that you don't even care about. Sam understands the situation and gives you a knowing look, smiling with admiration for your determined manner. Without hesitation, you lead him to his room.

As soon as they enter the room, Sam acts quickly by pressing you against the door and sharing a passionate kiss with you. You can feel his warm, calloused hands smooth your ass and then give them a firm squeeze. You push him gently, leading Sam to the bed.

"What's the plan now?" Sam asks, giving him a curious look.

You respond with a mischievous smile, "Well, I guess we'll make this moment even more interesting." Kneeling in front of him, he adds, "What do you think?" Sam picks up on the suggestion and returns the look with a mischievous smile, understanding perfectly. With agility, you unbuckle Sam's belt, taking his cock out. It was bigger than thick, it was red and with pulsing veins, which only increased his desire to shove it down his throat.

You then place his red head on your lips, sucking it like it's candy. Sam's loud moans fill the room as he throws his head back. With confidence, you welcome him completely into your mouth, making skillful back and forth movements, intensifying the connection between you while maintaining eye contact with Sam, you watch him moan, with his mouth half open, his forehead sweaty. You just smile, thinking if that's all for you.

Sam moans praise, saying: "Such a beautiful girl, such a delicious mouth..." When he tries to put his hand on his head to maintain a rhythm, you intensify the suction, forcing him to place his hands on the bed for support. and avoid collapsing in the face of the intensity of the moment.

Sam's chest rose and fell, his moans echoing in the room, you increase the suction even more and begin to massage his sensitive balls as well. "Pretty, I'm going to cum.." Sam's moans took on a desperate tone, he needed to cum. Sam began to moan his name repeatedly, increasingly euphoric, as if the words were a visceral expression of pleasure. The room echoed with your moans, he tries to push your head so you can let his cock free from your mouth but you hold your thighs tightly, feeling hot ropes of sperm in your throat, you swallow everything that Sam pours for you, without stop sucking him even more, even though he has already cum..

"honey, that's too much." He moans loudly from overstimulation as you continue working with his sensitive cock, he tries to push you away but he is out of strength from his recent orgasm. “pretty, I don’t…” a loud moan escapes his lips as he tries to stammer out the words. "I can't take it-" his breathing becomes even faster as he moans even louder, giving rise to his second orgasm. You insist on taking him until the last drop that comes out of that beautiful cock.

When you're sure you've done it, you slowly back away as you watch Sam recover. He looks at you with a mischievous smile on his face. "My God, you're perfect," Sam said with an amused tone and a hoarse voice, revealing a mixture of surprise and admiration. In response, you smile and go on top of him, fishing his lips in a wet kiss, sharing the taste of your own cock and cum with him. “You taste so good,” you say in a whisper as you continue to kiss Sam, sucking and biting his lower lips. Sam ran his hands over your body, taking off your clothes while you enjoyed his mouth with the best kiss you've ever tasted.

"I think mine comes from making you moan, don't you think?" He says with a smile, laying you down on the bed, climbing on top of you and running his tongue over your nipple, sucking it like a baby in search of your breast milk. Brushing his dick against your soaked entrance, he lifts his head to look at you and says, “Ready?” He asks with a horny smile, before you can respond, Sam shoves his entire length into your hungry hole, making you scream in a loud moan, the stretch giving you a pain that makes you arch your back. "Oops, it slipped.." he says with an amused tone. "I-Idiot.." you moan and he runs his finger across your lips. "Be quiet, pretty, you don't want your parents to come here, do you?" Sam teases and you remember that your parents are home, damn it, you completely forgot about that, but you have something more important to think about right now.

He immediately grabbed her hand and began to thrust hard and fast, dragging his tongue down her throat to her breasts and sucking them. Sam took his hand and lifted his head to lick his ear, speaking very softly in his ear. "Okay, pretty? I can do this all day." In response to his provocation, you let out an extremely loud moan, Sam covered your mouth and spoke. "Noisy bitch." He says with a mocking smile on his face. Sam kissed you, groping your breasts and pinching your nipples, making you shudder.

"Ah, pretty", he says between moans, "You're a complete mess, so perfect... my perfect girl."

He pulls you into a wet, dirty kiss and you whimper, drooling on his lips, your eyelashes fluttering as they touch your clit.

"Taking my dick so well with that perfect pussy.." He kisses you on the neck, giving light hickeys, never stopping to thrust hard inside you, reaching your sweetest spot, it doesn't take long for you to feel a familiar sensation in your core. "Sam.. I'm going to cum!" You say with a moan, your back arching as your chest rose and fell. Sam, upon hearing his words, pulls your legs to rest them on his shoulder and starts thrusting uncontrollably, making you scream even more, the impact noise of the meat hitting each other was loud and echoed throughout the room. “cum for me, perfect girl, pour your delicious honey on my dick” He says teasingly in your ear, he knows the effects it has on you. As you feel the knot in your core break, you moan Sam's name as you spill your cum onto his cock, after a few thrusts, Sam does the same to your pussy.

After the moment of ecstasy, Sam collapsed next to him, the bed serving as a silent witness to their shared emotions. Both tried to catch their breath, their sweaty bodies revealing the intensity of the encounter. The room, which had been too noisy, was now filled with silence, just the subtle echo of intertwined breaths, as tiredness transformed into a comforting feeling of shared intimacy.

Sam's gaze finds his pussy, which was dripping with both of your cum, and a smile forms on his lips. “Look at this,” he says looking at you, his lips find yours tenderly, he holds your chin gently. "You're perfect," he says, each word filled with appreciation. The intimacy of the moment transcends words, leaving only the sweet melody of shared connection in the air. "My perfect girl." , gently stroking your abdomen as he strokes your hair.

Sam looks at you with a smile after the shared moment. "Do you always have that amazing smile after a moment like that?"

"Maybe it's your ability to bring smiles." You respond jokingly.

Sam laughs softly, appreciating the answer.

"Well, I can only thank you for the inspiration. How do you feel now?" He asks and you reflect on the moment, expressing your feelings. "Like I'm floating on clouds, what about you?"

Sam shares the same sentiment. "The same. I think we managed to create something special here." Both recognize the uniqueness of the moment.

"Definitely."

As you enjoyed each other's caresses, a sound of footsteps echoes down the stairs, making you quickly look at Sam.

"Sam, you locked the door didn't you?" Sam looks at you confused, and for a brief moment, you share a look of mutual surprise.

"What? I thought you locked it."

#hayden christensen x reader #sam monroe #sam monroe x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars anakin #star wars #hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagines

[chaseadrian]

if you can only pretend

day 6. phone sex // [kinktober masterlist] Hard to say exactly how much you miss Steve while he's away on business. Still, you'll find a way to show him.

pairing. steve harrington/f!reader wc. 1k tags. 18+ ONLY, established relationship, phone sex, dirty talk, a bit o fluff, masturbation

You started on your stomach, the phone pulled from its stand, wire uncoiled as you twirled it around your finger. It was cliche and cheesy, but then, so was the way Steve spoke to you on the other end. 

“You miss me, beautiful?” He asks, stranded at some conference in Indianapolis for the video store. Who knew video stores had conferences? Or that Steve was good enough at his job to be invited? 

“What do you think?” You reply, flipping over to stare at the ceiling, knees pulled up and legs crossed one over the other. Your pajama shirt slides down your thighs, and the quiet hum of consideration from Steve has goosebumps rising on the skin. 

“Well, I don’t know.” You can sense him skirting around a question, can see the kick of his lip as he holds back a smile, his breath a little short. 

“Mm, you alone in that hotel room?” Grazing your nails over the top of your thighs, you close your eyes and pretend they’re Steve’s. 

“Got it all to myself, Robin complained about my snoring, smiled at the general manager, and he got her the hookup. I don’t think she knew what she was doing, but, never know with her.” He loses the plot for a moment before reorienting, “Point is, yes, the room is all mine.” 

“Not the only thing that’s all yours.” You chuckle as a punctuation to the statement, an incredulous, sarcastic laugh that goes over Steve’s head and has him falling over his heels. 

“That right?” He’s self satisfied, and you hum an affirmative before he continues, “So how much was it that you missed me?” 

You slip your fingers under the hem of your underwear, drawing your moan into your throat and instead letting out a deep, shaking sigh, “I don’t have the words, but I can still articulate it, if you want.” 

There’s the quiet clatter of a belt buckle on the other end before Steve says, “Jesus Christ, yes.” 

You laugh again, slipping your middle finger between your lips, slicking it up to circle around your clit. You moan into the receiver, playing it up just a little, and he starts spilling soliloquies without you even asking. 

“Fuck, shit,” He whispers, “Wish I was there. Wish it was your mouth around me instead, fuck,” Laughs intercede the monologue, “Hard to go back to my hand when you wrap around me so nice. N—nothing compares, fuck, I swear on God and Jesus and Magnum PI himself that I will never go to another one of these damn conferences.” 

Smiling to yourself, you sit in the mental picture of Steve at the desk of his hotel, fisting his erection, his jeans just pulled past his ass. He’s struggling to talk, white knuckles stroking down a reddening shaft, precum dribbling over his skin as he laments his love and frustration. 

“Nothing that takes me away from you and that pretty mouth. I just, shit, just wanna bury my tongue between your legs, make you squirm like you’re doin’ right now.” 

You arch your back as you circle your clit, lit up with desperation and want for Steve, for the little whimpers and choked moans he breathes into your mouth, for the rough pad of his fingertip on your wet cunt. You drive down deeper into the bed, whispering, “Shit, Steve, please, keep going. Keep going.” 

“Keep going?” His voice is steadier now, his desperation staved off by the pride he feels satisfying you, “Keep telling you how much I miss that body? Miss how wet you are when I slip into you, how tight you wrap around me, miss you pushing yourself against me, miss how your tits feel against my chest, shit, fuck, I’m—” 

He loses his composure in a matter of seconds, and it’s the heaving sigh at the outset of his orgasm that sends you careening into yours. That mental picture of his lips parting, pretty and pink and exhaling moans and guttural noises that he can’t hold back. The stilling of his hand on his length, spurts of cum spattered on his jeans and the desk and, if he’s really missing you, the wall. 

You can just hear the quiet, “Ohh, yeah, just like that.” as you’re shaking through your orgasm, fingers frantic over your clit as you dredge out every last bit of pleasure you can before the slightest touch becomes overwhelming. 

Catching your breath, you laugh a little in embarrassment. Crawling into Steve’s arms is typically an easy way to escape the awareness that comes after sex, logic and conscience seeping back into the spaces of your body that were taken over by love and desperation. Now though, all you have is the intangible comfort of his voice over the line, laughing right there with you. 

“I am just the luckiest guy in the world, huh?” He says, a dreamy sigh to follow. 

“Only person luckier than you is me.” You smile, shifting under the covers, the receiver under your head. If you close your eyes you can almost pretend Steve’s right there with you. 

“Fat chance.” There’s the clink of his belt as he pulls his jeans back on, scoffing at the notion. 

“Bite me.” 

He laughs, “I can do that. Soon as I get back, promise.” 

The lull of his voice pushes you closer and closer to sleep, and you mutter out an, “I’ll hold you to it.” 

“Hey, you falling asleep on me?” 

You mumble a negative, and Steve huffs a laugh, “Yeah, alright. Go to sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow night. I love you.” 

Your heart kicks in your chest as it always does when he says that, and you push off sleep enough to firmly say, “I love you.” 

There’s a smile in the sigh he lets out, and a quiet, “Goodnight, my beautiful girl. I’ll be here.”

You fall asleep with the receiver pressed against your cheek, Steve’s soft breathing on the other end. 

It’s almost like he’s there. 

Almost.

#steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #my writing #mine #kinktober

[bignostalgias]

just thinking about Jack learning Norse the long way without magic after dimension/time traveling to Berk. Rambling nonsense under cut

Ok ok as learning a language takes time and dedication, Jack mostly communicates non-verbally at first and slowly incorporates Norse into his vocabulary. He sporadically gets lessons from the Dragon Riders, but it’s slow-going as there’s always external shenanigans to resolve, and to be honest most of them are poor language teachers (with the exception of Fishlegs, who is very kind to make Jack flashcards to study with). He also visits with Gothi, as she sympathizes with his struggle to be understood, and he picks up on her symbols as they become friends. He thinks of Sandy and feels a pang of homesickness.

Both Jack and Hiccup are very expressive characters who often use exaggerated gestures and expressions to prove a point, so their friendship consists of a lot of pointed looks and unabashed flailing. Rolling their eyes. Goofy smiles. Smiles with Mischievous Intent. Sarcastic deadpans. Reading the tone of each others’ voices. As they become more comfortable with each other (and Jack becomes more comfortable being visible and tangible) this includes Jack holding Hiccup’s hand to lead him somewhere, poking each other to invoke a reaction, Hiccup steering Jack by his shoulders away from trouble, falling asleep haphazardly on top of each other while attempting to study. To an onlooker their conversations are madness.

Hiccup learns English as well as a fair trade. So he can know Jack a little better. So Jack isn’t alone in this. Similar to OTNWAS (fic of all time), he starts using English expressions and slang that Jack introduces him to (“Cool,” he says, drawing out the vowels. Jack nods at him rapidly. He exclaims something incomprehensible to Hiccup - but undoubtedly encouraging from the way his eyes are crinkling at the corners - before repeating, “cool beans,” and gives a double thumbs up. Flashbright smile. “Cool beans,” Hiccup says, still with only a fuzzy understanding of what it means).

Hiccup also spends a lot of time drawing with Jack, as a tool to aid communication and make new flashcards, but more often than not it devolves into stupid Pictionary doodles as Hiccup struggles to interpret Jack’s drawings. (“Uh, is that…. Stormfly?” Hiccup asks, and Jack pulls a face that is both distraught and amused. “So not - oh! That’s an axe! You’re drawing Astrid! Oh gods. I have to show her this, oh gods.” Something about the maniacal glee in Hiccup’s tone must have alerted Jack to his intent, as he received a sharp poke under his ribs as a reply, making him wheeze. In English, Jack says, “whatever you’re thinking, don’t,” and Hiccup, recognizing the last word, bursts into giggles.)

Jack is dedicated to making Hiccup laugh, of course. Jack is very willing to make himself the fool to do so. Toothless is happy to help.

Soon Jack can string Norse sentences together skillfully, drop some vibrant curses, and sing a few ballads as well (the ballads he picked up even before he fully understood them). And because Hijack has taken over my one braincell, Jack tells Hiccup he loves him in Norse after an eternity of fumbling to figure out the right words.

(antique fic trope alert, 5 times Jack tried to tell Hiccup he loved him in Norse +1 time he got it right. someone take me out to a dennys parking lot and break my kneecaps)

#mine #embarrassing. *posts* #frostcup #hijack #has this been done before. it’s nearly 2 am #translations au

[momobani]

ADDICTED

THE WAY I hate YOU - chapter 5A - 5.3k

&team Nicholas x fem!reader - arranged marriage AU

SERIES MASTERLIST

Sum: you somehow make your dreams come true.

Warnings: swearing, mention of food, NICHOLAS (just him as an entity lol), smut (MINORS DO NOT INTERACT), oral sex (male receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (be safe pls!)

Soundtrack rec: Addicted - Monsta X

Taglist: @nichoswag @seokka0o @sseastar-main @hyuckslvr @ssshasssh @wtfisgoingright  

A/N: honestly i have nothing to say for myself. that's it lol.

It’s been around four months since you’ve gotten married and you notice a definite change in the air between you and Nicholas, though if you were being honest, it’s very likely that it was just you dealing with the aftermath of all those random dreams you’d had about him. 

You could believe that but Nicholas’ actions were telling a very different story; you didn’t want to be delusional but you could swear he was watching you, dissecting you or something, his lingering gaze making you flush and turn around to stare back, as if challenging him to commit to a stare off, but he would simply feign ignorance and go about his day.

You’d been quieter lately, minding your own business, each of you volunteering to do house chores alone rather than together - you went for groceries today, looking at the list Nicholas sent you after work. You came home to the smell of him cooking something mouth watering. 

You hum a greeting to each other and you almost go to your room, but you realise that it would be weird to actively avoid your husband. It was somewhat awkward now but if you tried to get away, it would become worse. And if there’s one thing you hated, was making an awkward situation more awkward. 

Instead, Nicholas pulls out two sets of cutlery and plates and puts them on the table; a silent invitation for you to eat together. He seems to do it without a second thought. 

You pour some water in a couple glasses and place them on the table as your contribution after putting away the groceries. 

It’s getting really warm in your kitchen despite the open window and Nicholas shrugs off his sweater, leaving him a thin, white vest that shows off the bulk of his shoulders and arms. You do a double take - since when was your husband this beefy? Like you knew he was pretty strong but like this was different. Had you not noticed?

He catches you staring and you think that he smirks to himself as he turns back to the pan. Your theory is confirmed when he asks you:

“Liking what you see, Mrs Wang?” the smirk evident in his voice. Your brows furrow together. 

“Have you been sneaking out of our house and sleeping at the gym lately?” you sass back, trying to stay unaffected.

But you were awfully, obviously, severely affected. 

And Nicholas noticed that too. 

“No, you just don’t spend a lot of time looking at me when I’m not wearing clothes.” his words cause a flurry of anxiety to shoot through your veins. 

He knew, he knew, he must do, he must have read your mind and seen exactly what you’d been fantasising about. The images flash through your mind and you shift at the dinner table, feeling wound up tighter and tighter, uneasy in your seat.

There’d been days when you would just take care of how you were feeling yourself, locking your door whenever he was out and just giving yourself all the pleasure you needed to make your uneasiness go away. But it was starting to become harder to ignore. 

You realise that you’re quiet for too long. “Y’know I think I actually see you without clothes far too often.” you say, still trying to keep up a front. “I’m starting to think you like the attention.” 

Nicholas stops stirring. “Oh?” he asks, clearly bemused even though you can’t see his face. “So you admit I have your attention?”    

“Why would you want it?” you mutter but he doesn’t hear you over the noise of the kitchen. “Only on weekends.” you reply. 

“Wow, YN. You wound me.” he says sarcastically. “What about the week days? Am I not riveting enough during the week?” 

Unfortunately for you, he was far too riveting, every single day you saw him and then the times you were away from him too, and when he occupied the empty spaces of your mind. 

“I’m busy during the week.” you lie. “I don’t have time to think about you or what you’re wearing or doing, I need to focus-”

“So I’m a distraction?” he asks, finally stopping the heat and taking the pan away. You can’t think for a moment - was it because he was right? Or was it because you were distracted by the way his muscles tensed as he carried the pan to the table?

Your brain finally betrays you and you snap.

“Yes, Nicholas. Because you’re fucking distracting and I don’t need distractions.” you huff. You might have sounded harsher if it didn’t all come out as a strained whisper-shout. 

You’re nearly trembling and it strikes you with fear because how could you be so affected by him? How could you feel so tense and adrenalised from just a random conversation? 

How could you want him this much? 

You hadn’t even voiced it in your own mind, but now it hits you with a blistering clarity. 

You wanted him so fucking much. 

To touch him, to feel him, to say his name as if he was actually yours. You didn’t know if you were falling in love with him, that question was too difficult for you to face right now, but you were definitely falling somehow - flailing even, swept off your feet as he pulled the rug beneath it when you were least expecting. 

You don’t wait for him to reply, thinking you probably over stepped and sounded ridiculous and not to mention rude. You get up with a screech of your chair and leave.

“Hey, YN, wait!” Nicholas comes after you, catching your wrist and pulling you back gently. “What’s going on?” 

You hate the weight of his eyes, their concern burning a hole through you but you force yourself to look up for just a moment. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just a little tense, don’t mind it.” you try to extract your hand and go but he doesn’t let you go yet. 

“You should eat something.” he says and you let him pull you back to the table. 

You sit in silence, starting to eat so it doesn’t look like you’re avoiding a conversation. You’d failed your initial goal, the awkwardness settling over you like a blanket. 

You should have just avoided him because now all you could think about was him as you ate. 

He sat across from you so all you needed to do was raise your eyes to look at him. 

To look at the way he picked up the glass of water, bringing it to his lips - god, his lips - sipping for a moment then deciding the thirst was overwhelming and tipping back the glass and his head, the majesty of his neck on full display as he swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed once, twice-

Then he looks right at you, at your hungry eyes and seems to see right through you. 

“YN, what’s wrong?” he puts the glass down.

“I told you, I’m just tense. I’m sorry for taking it out on you.” you say neutrally. 

“Don’t bullshit me. I know you better than that. Something’s bothering you. You can tell me. Am I not your friend?” he asks earnestly, almost hurt. 

You sigh. “Yes, Nicholas, you’re my friend.” you say. “But you’re also my husband.” you say as if that explains everything. It leaves him more confused than ever. 

He doesn’t say anything else, waiting for you elaborate and after a while you do. 

“You were right.” you begin. Nicholas frowns comically. 

“Now I know something’s definitely wrong.” he mumbles. “What was I right about? I feel like I would remember such a momentous occasion.” 

His comment makes a smile threaten to break out on your face. Trust Nicholas to only take that away from what you were about to say. 

“Remember on the island, that night we couldn’t sleep. You were talking about how eventually we’re going to have needs and we won’t know what to do about it.” you explain. “I think I’m getting there and it’s really frustrating.” 

Nicholas is pensive for a moment, as if he’s really thinking about a solution. It’s kind of funny to see him take this conundrum more seriously than most other things.

“That makes a lot of sense.” he concludes finally. Now it’s your turn to be confused. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’ve been avoiding me lately,” you feel a pang of guilt. “And you’ve been quiet and grouchy and…” he trails off. 

“And what?” you press, feeling far too exposed from Nicholas’ observations. 

“And you’ve been looking at me as if you want to eat me.” he says. “You’re not slick, you know.” 

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Fuck. So he’d definitely clocked it. 

“R-right.” you say, your embarrassment making you stutter. “Let me leave with my pride.” you get up again, abandoning your plate. Bringing this up had been a bad idea. 

“That’s it?” Nicholas asks after you. You stop. “You’re not going to ask me what I think about it?” 

What would he think? And why does he want you to ask? 

“Do I want to know?” you think out loud. “Fine, what to do you think about it?” you say turning back around expectantly. Nicholas gets up and walks up to you, not quite closing the distance between you. You almost step back on instinct.

“I think we shouldn’t just leave it alone.” he says looking at you. His eyes are searching your face, as if looking for the slightest hint of reluctance. You’re sure he won’t be able to find any. 

“So you want to talk about it?” you check. 

“Yes.” 

“And what are you going to say about it?” you ask, suddenly sceptical. 

“I think we should try having sex.” he says as if it’s no big deal. You blink. You must have heard him wrong. “YN?” he asks when you don’t say anything. “Is that not what you were talking about? Because if it’s not then this is so fucking embarrassing-”

“It was.” you reassure him. “I just didn’t expect that.” 

Nicholas tilts his head. “Then what did you expect? For me to say no?” he steps closer. Your body reacts immediately, a shiver crawling up your spine. Ugh, he hadn’t even touched you and you were freaking out. “For me to turn you down when it’s been on my mind too?” he steps further. You feel anchored to the floor for the moment.

“It has?” 

He nods. “Especially that day.” he says. “I heard…” he hesitates. “Nevermind.” he concludes. 

You’re almost too embarrassed to respond. “Whatever you heard, ignore it.” you daren’t look up and meet his eyes. 

“How can I?” he demands suddenly. Your eyes snap towards him. “How can I ignore the way you said my name like that?”

His name? You swear you hadn’t even let that slip, unless-

Your dream. You must have been sleep talking too. 

You wait for the ground to swallow you up but it doesn’t. Instead, Nicholas’ eyes pierce into you.

“Why so shy now, YN?” he asks, condescending. “After moaning my name, you act as if it never happened.” he continues. You can’t tell if he’s angry or amused or both somehow. “Are you that proud? Or are you ashamed of what you want?” 

“No.” you almost cower under his stare but will yourself to keep standing straight. 

“Then why do you keep doing this?” he sighs, deflated. “You used to say exactly what you meant, but you never do anymore. What happened? Why can’t you just tell me what you want?” he looks at you, almost desperately. “Please? Tell me what you want.” 

You realise that you’d gotten much closer in the span of a few seconds, the two of you subconsciously moving until you’re almost backed into the wall. You can feel the heat radiating off his body. 

You stay stunned for a moment. You weren’t used to being asked what you wanted. Your whole life had been you being told what to do, how to be, your choices being manipulated at every turn. Indeed, you’d been taught not to ask for anything because you already had everything, so what more could you possibly want? 

What did you want?

Nicholas’ eyes hold yours persistently, compelling you to speak. 

What did you really want?

“You.” you breathe. “I want you.” you mumble, heart starting to race. 

You think you imagine it, but there’s a certain twinkle that appears in his eyes, a smugness that can only be the result of being proven correct. It sends a thrum of excitement buzzing to the pit of your belly.  

“You want me to what?” he continues, closing in on you, eyes growing hungrier. Somehow his energy makes you grow more confident. Or desperate. 

“I want you to kiss me.” you say, betraying yourself. 

“And?” You hesitate. “Oh, c’mon, YN. I can see it in your eyes. Tell me.” he says, voice low. 

“I want you to fuck me.” 

“That’s better.” he praises, mouth hovering close to yours with a smirk. “So you were thinking about me, hmm?” he doesn’t give in to you just yet, keeping his face close but lips just out of reach, his nose brushing against yours. “Were you imagining me fucking you dumb?” but it’s not a question; he’s informing you of your thoughts in case you’d forgotten. 

“Maybe,” you whisper, feeling a wave of goosebumps when one of Nicholas’ hands snuck up to your waist, fingers finding your skin in the gap between your clothes.

“Interesting.” he replies, sliding that same hand up your skin and taking the fabric of your shirt with it only to let it drop. Fucking tease. “I was thinking about it too, wondering about what was underneath that little sleep shirt of yours. Or what you did when you locked yourself in your room.”

You tense up at the mention of your room. Had he seen or heard anything else? 

“Oh?” Nicholas asks without withdrawing even a millimetre. “I was only guessing but I guess I was right.” he teases. “I can totally imagine it; your fingers just aren’t enough, are they?” he continues, having a total field day making you squirm with just his words. You shift slightly as if to prove his point. 

“You sure talk a lot, Nicholas, are you sure you want to do this?” you sass back, ready to hit a nerve. And you surely did because Nicholas draws back, assessing you for a moment silently. You stare back expectantly, finally gaining some confidence in your actions. 

He doesn’t say another word.

Instead, he pulls your body forward, flush against his and catches your lips with his. You’re semi-expecting but it still takes you a split second to kiss him back properly, eyes falling closed. You hold on to his shoulders for stability and let him deepen the kiss. 

The kiss was searing, way too hot and desperate, and you could feel his intent. You knew that you wanted him but you were certain that he wanted you too now. There was an undeniable chemistry between you, a magnetic pull that couldn’t be torn apart so easily. 

You can feel yourself starting to burn up, need starting to crawl under your skin. You stifle a moan when his tongue starts to play with yours, the sound reverberating straight into his mouth. It only seems to spur him on and push you up against the wall, hands grabbing at the back of your thighs to prop you up in his arms. The motion spreads your legs to accommodate his figure between them, his crotch pressing right into your clothed heat. You can feel him growing hard against you while you make out vehemently, the sensation driving you crazy immediately as you feel a familiar ache take hold of you. 

As much as you love what you’re doing now, your desperation only gets stronger and you feel like you might explode. You practically claw at Nicholas’ vest, trying to get his attention but also get the damn thing off. He gets the message and starts to pull it off, breaking the kiss with a gasp so he can whip it off, all while still keeping you propped up. When he presses up against you again, you can feel the heat of his skin even through your own t-shirt. He slows for a moment, as if giving you a chance to speak, or catch your breath, mouth touching yours softly before moving to its side and then to your cheek. 

“Should we go?” he breathes between kisses. You nod languidly, too lost in the haze that’s taken over your vision. 

“Yeah,” you manage, somehow incredibly breathless. 

Nicholas doesn’t let you go, but opts to carry you off. You grab onto him tightly and let him walk to his room, the closer of the two in your house. It’s a second until you’re lying on his bed, his weight on top of you while you start to shed layers of clothes. You don’t even think to be self-conscious about your very bland and boring underwear since you’re too busy sucking face with your husband. 

It starts to sink in as to what you’re doing and that Nicholas had made it clear he was at your disposal, your brain starting to wake up to the endless possibilities of what you could do. It had been a while and you wanted to do a lot, your greed eating away at you. You break away for a second, mind made up on what you wanted first. 

“Nico?” you say. He hums in response while moving down to nose at your neck while you catch your breath. “I wanna suck you off, please?” you add for good measure, though you were sure he wouldn’t need that much convincing - who would? 

He does straighten up to look at you though, suddenly wide awake. “Really?” you almost laugh at his hopeful expression.   

“Yeah, now move.” you practically overturn him so he lands on his back. You crawl on top of him, kissing him one last time on the mouth then migrating down, neck, chest, abs until you get to his clothed member. He does nothing but stare down at you in fascination, his eyes clouded with lust. You loved that look; it was exactly what you were trying to achieve. 

“Surprised?” you ask, trailing a finger lightly down the protruding hardness in his boxers. 

“A little, but I’m excited to see this side of you.” he admits, tongue swiping over his lower lip.  

“Hm, you haven’t seen a damn thing yet, sweetheart.” you assure him. 

“I know you’re not bark and no bite, so show me, YN.” he prompts. 

You slide the material down, making sure it drags across his skin, to reveal his cock, all too hard and red, before you take his length into your hand, letting the waist band snap back. Nicholas barely flinches at the contact but you don’t miss the micro-flutter of his eyes. 

You lean in, swiping a hand over his tip to collect any precum to use as lube, sliding your closed fist down the length of his dick before taking his tip into your mouth. He’s girthier than average so you definitely feel the tiniest stretch, but it only registers for a second while you adjust your stance and run your tongue over his head, tracing different shapes over his slit. It seems to be working because Nicholas’ abs relax and contract as he sucks in a shaky breath, body responding to your touch. 

You gain some confidence and start to jerk him off with your hand while keeping his tip in your mouth, spit starting to drip out and down his shaft, while you switch between sucking and using your tongue, watching his face contort in pleasure while you work him towards an orgasm. He can’t seem to contain himself anymore and sighs quietly, a near moan escaping his lips while you start to take him further into your mouth and down your throat. You’d warmed up by now, ready to make his head spin. 

You try your best not to gag as your head bobs up and down, eyes closing for a moment to enjoy the sensation. You could swear your pussy was leaking by now but you resist the urge to touch yourself - you’d waited this long, so a while longer wouldn’t make a difference. You look back up at him after a moment, meeting his eyes, making sure he was still watching you as you slowly slid him out of your mouth to take a breather. His eyes are unmistakably glazed over but he’s fighting to look back at you. 

You keep pumping your hand while your free hand comes up to wipe the spit that gathered at the edges of your mouth. 

“That good?” you ask, already knowing the answer from the way Nicholas’ chest falls and rises as he pants, mouth agape. 

“Really fucking good…” he mutters, voice hoarse with pleasure. He clears his throat half-heartedly. “Should have done this way earlier,” he starts to straighten up, which confuses you. “Because I swear I might die if I don’t fuck you right now.” he doesn’t give you a moment to process even though you’d already frozen just from the way he was looking at you.

Then you’re on your back, one of Nicholas’ hands around your waist keeping you flushed against him. You can feel his hard cock against your thigh and you can feel your hole react, clenching over nothing with need. 

“Drama queen.” you mumble just before he catches your mouth with his again. It feels all too good to kiss him again, skin to skin, completely lost in the way your body fits against his. 

You chase his mouth when he pulls away again. 

“Let me get protection-”

“I don’t mind it without,” you say before having a change to overthink. Nicholas just blinks at you. “I just finished my period,” you say for clarification. He sighs in relief. “I’m clean so if you are too, then forget it.” 

“I’m good too but are you sure?” he asks, clearly sceptical but you can’t help but find the little tinge of hope in his voice entertaining. Nicholas was a man after all.  

“Yeah, we’ll just use condoms next time.” you shrug, then mentally hit yourself. Your words hang in the air. 

‘Next time’? 

Would there even be a next time?

Maybe in your head, there was already a next time, then a time after that, and a time after that again-

“Alright,” he replies, a half-smirk appearing on his face. The amusement in his voice is obvious while he pushes you up to the pillows so you can rest your head there.

The two of you adjust until your legs are spread wide enough to allow him access to your dripping cunt. You can’t tear your eyes away as you watch Nicholas line himself up to your hole, the head of his cock teasing your folds, spreading your arousal around. 

You moan loudly in relief, throwing your head back and melting into the bed, when you feel him finally slide in, stretching you gently inch by inch. You can’t stop your body from arching into Nicholas, hands finding purchase on his biceps for stability. He hoists you up by your hips a little in response, grabbing one of the spare pillows to lodge under your back so you can keep this angle as he bottomed out. 

You almost choke on air as you feel him deep in your guts, his length filling you to the brim. You have no words, looking at him dumbly as he starts to rock his hips into yours gently. The slide of his cock against your walls feels far too good for you to disturb this quiet pace. Instead, sounds of your pleasure tumble out of your mouth, uncensored and too loud to your own ears.

But you can’t help it. 

You’re so far gone, so fucked out that every wall you put up, every facade you kept up, everything comes crashing down. Nicholas’ head drops to your shoulder, his breath hot on your sensitive neck while he grips your hips tightly for leverage. He’s mostly sighing quietly, a few contained hums and moans reverberating through his chest and into you.

“Look at you, Mrs Wang,” he murmurs, obviously teasing. “Such a mess for me, hmm.” he kisses the spot just under your ear and it sends a light shiver to your spine.  

You can’t even form a coherent sentence to retort with. You barely squeeze his arm in response, trying to quieten your moans down because clearly it was going to your husband’s head.

“What’s that? Nothing to say anymore?” he continues, driving his hips into yours with deliberate precision. It’s as if he knows that you need more already but he wants you to say it.

“Please,” you manage, nails digging into his skin.

“Please what, baby?” he hums, one hand snaking up your torso to play with your chest.  

You whine from the sudden stimulation. “Harder, N-nico, please.” you let out pathetically. You don’t recognise your own breathy voice with the way its laced with need. 

“Harder?” he questions, raising his head to smile at you. You look at him closely for the first time in a few minutes and notice his lips are flushed and swollen, so you can only imagine what you must look like. “Alright.” he agrees then pulls away, large hands lifting you up slightly so he can toss the pillow away. You don’t really see it flying off in your peripheral vision because you’re too focused on the way Nicholas wraps your legs around his waist securely and presses you into the bed.

The pace he starts is gruelling and knocks the wind out of you as he begins fucking you into the mattress, cock buried in your cunt and barely sliding out. You yelp in surprise but then groan at how amazing it feels, the head of cock hitting that one spot continuously until you think you’re going to black out. You cling on to Nicholas however you can while his hand curls around your cheek and the back of your head to keep your eyes on him while he rearranges your insides.  

You start to feel an orgasm starting to build up despite the lack of attention on your clit and you wonder if you could just reach between your bodies and-

“Are you close?” Nicholas interrupts your only, albeit partially formed, thought in a while.

“Yeah, close…” you pant. 

It’s enough for Nicholas to slow down and then pull out completely and you whine in confusion.

“Turn around, c’mon.” he says, helping you sit up and scramble around until you’re on your knees.  You can feel Nicholas’ body practically on top of yours, gently pushing you down until you’re resting on your elbows, ass up in the air and he lines himself up again with your hole. You moan quietly when he slides back in, the change of angle refreshing but just as mind-numbing. You’re not sure how long you’d last propped up like this but it doesn’t matter when Nicholas starts fucking you from behind. 

You bury your face in the mattress, the soft sheets under your cheek while your husband pounds into you, rocking your whole body with the force of his thrusts. It’s possibly the roughest anyone’s ever been with you but you were enjoying it more than you’d ever admit. 

There’s not much activity happening in your brain, but your body certainly knew it - this was the most mind blowing sex you’d ever experienced and you didn’t know if it was just because it had been a long time since you’d slept with anyone or because Nicholas was that good, or maybe even because you were married and you’d definitely see each other in the morning.

You moaned into the bed, your voice muffled but still loud while Nicholas wrecked your pussy, his own moans getting louder as he buried himself deeper with every thrust if that was possible.  

“Fuck, i-it feels so good, Nico.” you babble, hands fisting the sheets underneath you.

“Yeah?” his voice thicker and gruffer than you’d ever heard it before. “You like my cock so much, baby?” he teases you.

“Yes!” you whine in approval. “Love your cock so much…” you reply, feeling like you’re melting into the bed. “Nico, I’m close,” you manage.

“Me too, baby, c’mere,” he pants. One hand snakes around your body and finds its way to your clit, his fingers starting to rub circles gently. 

“Put your hand around my throat,” you say suddenly, head swimming with pleasure. 

“Damn,” Nicholas hisses. “I didn’t know my baby was so nasty.” he chuckles, but complies, helping you rise up so you could lean back on him while his hands worked your body into a frenzy. “You’re such a pretty slut for me, YN.” he whispers in your ear. “Letting me fuck your tight little pussy raw.” 

You didn’t know why but his words made you whine even more, hole clenching tightly as your orgasm finally hit, shaking your body to the core. The pleasure was too immense, your hands clinging onto Nicholas’ forearms for stability, though you knew he wouldn’t let you fall, the muscle enveloping you sturdy. 

You’re not sure if you screamed or moaned, swore or cried Nicholas’ name but you were sure that you might get a noise complaint if your neighbours were home. 

The next thing you know is that you’re on your back again, Nicholas above you as he spreads your legs and buries his cock into your sopping cunt as your walls still spasm from the orgasm, extending the waves of pleasure running through your body. 

This time you can feel him chasing his own high, head hung low and resting on your shoulder as he grunts quietly into your skin, which shines with a thin sheen of sweat. Your hand makes its way to stroke the back of his neck, fingertips light on his skin. 

“You fuck me so well, Nico, feel so fucking good.” you praise him, making an effort to move your mouth between moans. “Want your cum so bad, come on my tits.”  He doesn’t say anything but hums in acknowledgement, a stray cracked moan escaping his lips as you can feel his cock twitch inside you. 

Nicholas pulls out of you swiftly, large hand wrapping around his leaking cock and pumping until he comes with a groan, thick ropes of cum colouring your chest. 

He seems to be barely holding on and keels over on the bed next to you, matching your heavy breaths and staring up at the ceiling. 

“That was very necessary.” you comment when you finally catch your breath.

“Oh yup, incredibly.” he agrees, nodding. 

You lie there for a minute, coming down slowly as your head clears and your heart stops hammering in your chest and it dawns on you what you just did and who you did it with. 

It didn’t make sense suddenly; Nicholas was so good in bed - you knew that anything you’d had until now paled in comparison. He could most certainly have anyone he wanted, so the question rang through your mind: why would he end up with you?

“Let’s get cleaned up,” Nicholas touches your hand gently, pulling you away from your thoughts. “Unless…” he trails off. Your pussy reacts before your brain and you can’t help but smile a little.

“Round two?” you suggest, thoughts becoming a foreign concept once again. Nicholas grins back at you. 

“Round two.” he says, closing the distance between you and kissing you again. 

~

a/n: thanks for reading, feedback is always appreciated <3 so yeah that happened, things are about to get complicated for YN yay-[gunshots]

*copyright 2021- © momobani 

#&team #andteam #&team nicholas #wang yixiang #nicholas x reader #&team x reader #&team fics #&team smut #&team scenarios #andteam smut #momobani.writes

[the-fo0l]

Super fluffy Ethan Winters x reader headcanons

Notes: this was written in one of my 10 min "i love ethan winters" episodes, more written for me than anyone else, also happy new year

Warnings: established relationship, pure fluff, maybe too much fluff, obsessed bf

Ethan would like nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with you

Despite the fact that you've been together for a while now he still looks at you like he's experiencing love at first sight over and over again

Celebrates full and half anniversaries of things that aren't even important

"It's the half year anniversary of when you agreed to move in with me!"

".....That's why you got me flowers???"

Loves to see you passionate about things you like

Will listen intently when you talk about literally anything

If you hate someone, he automatically hates them too

Loves doing lovely-dovey, cringey couple things with you

Travelling, cooking and baking together, date night, movie night- just living out his dream romance story with the love of his life

He's an amazing cook i just know it

Makes you breakfast every day

And dinner, if you guys aren't doing out to eat

"How was work today?", you manage to ask before Ethan kisses you hello. "Good, but I couldn't stop thinking about you", he says with a small smile. "Ugh you say that everytime I ask about work...", you say with sarcastic annoyance. "Well it's true" a stupid love-struck grin now creeping onto his face.

His heart just about explodes when ever you do something for him

It could be the smallest thing

Bring him tea or soup when he's sick, tug the blanket up more and kiss his forehead -his body temp gets twice as hot with the way he's blushing

Of course he's very careful driving with you in the car but it is kinda hard to keep his eyes on the road when you're sitting next to him, looking so perfect

Sometimes you catch him casually humming that wedding tune (you know what i mean right)

At least like 70% of the pictures on his phone of you, plus a ton of screenshots of things to buy for you

He could be having a horrible day but seeing you automatically makes him feel better, and any sappy shows of affection from you make his whole week

Cuddling up to you is something he always looks forward to at the end of the each day

Staring into each other's eyes, holding your hand, running his fingers across your face, pressing gentle kisses to your skin and being as close as possible

At this point he has trouble going to sleep without hearing your voice, feeling your touch

Leaves you little notes, informative or just reminders of his love. Sometimes you'll write your response on them and leave them up for him to see later (he totally keeps all the notes you've replied to)

Hugs from behind, giving and receiving

His love for you never stopped growing. At this point it's hard to function without being in some sort of contact with you

He would not be able to handle fighting with you, let alone a break-up (not something you should even joke about, he'll cry)

Loves petnames beginning with "my". Cause that's right, he is yours, completely and utterly.

After one of your friends/acquaintances rather rudely joined the cafe date you and Ethan were on, Ethan's been in an awfully salty mood. Your hand holding his is likely the only thing keeping him from going off on the girl.

All the while she's going on and on about how perfect your relationship is and how unbelievable it is that she "hasn't found the perfect man yet".

"Of course you haven't met the perfect man," you lean in slightly, "I already have him".

Well, that certainly bettered Ethan's mood tenfold. He can only chuckle awkwardly as his face heats up and the corners of his mouth tug upwards. He doesn't say anything as you two continue talking, but you can't help but notice how his grip on your hand tightens, and how his other hand goes to encase it completely, gently toying with your rings with that lovesick look on his face.

#ethan winters x reader #resident evil fluff #ethan winters fluff #this is more for me than anyone else #resident evil x reader

[queenshelby]

Our Little Secret (Part 15)

Pairing: Dark! Cillian Murphy x Virgin! Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Brief Mention of Stillbirth

Notes: This will not be a love story. It will be dark, twisted and kinky. Cillian is portrayed as totally off cannon.

Two days following your phone call and without the knowledge of his sister, Cillian arrived at the place you were now staying at which, much to his surprise, was located in one of the worst areas of Dublin. 

It was a studio apartment you had rented out just a week ago after you were given notice by your cousin to vacate his townhouse near Temple Bar. The unit was located above a somewhat questionable establishment and the living space wasn't much, and consisted mostly of a mattress on the floor, a small TV and a study desk.

The kitchenette was cramped and cluttered and, whilst the bathroom was functional, it lacked any semblance of privacy, with peeling paint chipping from the walls and a cracked mirror hanging precariously from the wall. The window was sealed shut, trapping the stale air within.

Despite the less than ideal conditions, you managed to find solace in its simplicity. It was all you could afford and you were proud for the fact that you managed to pay your own way after your mother and stepfather had kicked you out. 

You received a financial support now from a public organization supporting women like you and, thanks to them, you managed to pay the bond for this place and were able to cover the cost of the abortion appointment scheduled for next week.

But then again, even though you considered terminating the pregnancy and knew that, doing so, would be for the best, the idea of ending your child's life felt increasingly unbearable now, making you consider Cillian's offer. 

"Hey," Cillian greeted softly, walking in cautiously after you opened the door. He was taken aback by the stark reality of your living situation. He had imagined something more akin to a charming apartment, rather than this dilapidated structure situated above a seedy bar.

"Hey," you countered

shyly, inviting him to step inside. "Come in."

His footsteps echoed loudly, amplifying the sense of isolation.

"How are you holding up?" he asked cautiously, glancing around the room.

"Just great, considering I live in a hole," you quipped sarcastically, motioning towards the mattress on the floor. "Make yourself comfortable."

The tension between you was palpable, a mixture of resentment and regret permeating the air.

"This place, Y/N, it does not seem safe," Cillian murmured uncomfortably, observing the grimy surroundings. "Not for you, definitely," he added, concern etched onto his face.

"Yeah, well, I am lacking options Cillian! My mother and Frank kicked me out after she found out about us which, I think, is understandable," you remarked sarcastically, sitting down on the mattress beside him. "And you know what? It's fine. It really is," you went on to say before Cillian sighed, his heart contracting painfully for you.

"It's not fine Y/N. You can't live like this," Cillian protested, his voice cracking with emotion. He felt utterly helpless witnessing your plight, trapped in a situation he inadvertently created.

"Well, I would rather live here than anywhere where I would have to face the consequences of my poor decision-making," you retorted defensively, casting your gaze downward.

"Y/N, please. Let me help you," Cillian urged, reaching out to grasp your arm gently. You recoiled instinctively, alarm flashing across your features. Cillian pulled back immediately, aware of the fragility of your emotional state.

"Are you still finishing college?" Cillian inquired and you nodded.

"Yes, but I had to change institutions. I am working during the day and go to school in the evening now. It works alright for me and I am almost done with my final exams," you confided, shifting restlessly on the mattress.

"And then? What are you going to do?" Cillian inquired, his voice laced with concern.

"Law school, if I get in," you replied, your voice softening slightly.

"That sounds promising," Cillian commented, his tone brightening. "Do you think you will pass your exams with all that is happening right now?"

"I have to, right?" you replied, your voice cracking slightly. 

"Yes, of course, but...," Cillian began but then stopped abruptly, noticing your hesitation. He knew that he couldn't push you too far, especially given the delicate nature of your predicament. You looked down, tugging at the hem of your shirt nervously.

"May I ask you something personal?" you ventured, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

"Of course," Cillian assured you, eager to learn more about your thoughts and feelings.

"Why exactly do you want me to keep the baby?" you probed tentatively, your curiosity piqued.

Cillian hesitated briefly, searching for the words to articulate his complex emotions.

"I guess I wanted to be father for a while, and I am most certainly not getting any younger either. Max is not my biological son and, whist I love him as if he was my own, I know that I may lose him sooner rather than later if my ex keeps carrying on the way she does. So, when I learned that you were carrying my child, Y/N," he faltered, his voice breaking slightly, "it felt like an opportunity for a second chance at parenthood. I mean, I don't want to impose my dreams on you, but the thought of having a child, a family, feels so meaningful to me," Cillian explained and you sat there quietly, absorbing every word Cillian spoke.

His honesty, his openness, and his willingness to share such intimate parts of himself touched you deeply but you were not ready to be a mother yet and this would not change overnight.

You hesitated briefly before answering, "I appreciate your honesty, Cillian, but I need some time to process everything."

"Of course," Cillian responded warmly "Whatever you choose, I promise to respect your decision."

As the conversation wound down, an awkward silence settled between you. Both of you were lost in your thoughts, wrestling with the implications of your shared predicament.

Cillian broke the silence first, suggesting that you reconsider moving to a safer neighborhood. "Regardless of whether you decide to keep the baby or not, you know that I can help you find a better place to stay, right?" he proposed generously.

"I know but...no, thank you, Cillian. I can manage on my own," you protested, your cheeks reddening slightly. "Besides, I am used to this now," you added, gesturing around the cramped quarters.

"It won't be easy, but I assure you, I can handle it," you assured him confidently, displaying strength and resilience.

You were grateful for Cillian's kindness but refused to depend on him, determined to forge your own path. "If you insist, then I will respect your wishes," Cillian conceded, acknowledging your stubbornness which was something that had drawn him to you in the first place.

"Thank you," you replied softly, gratitude swirling within you.

A brief silence ensued, the atmosphere thick with tension and anticipation. Neither of you dared break the silence, fearing that the wrong words might shatter the fragile equilibrium.

Cillian cast his gaze around the dimly lit room, pondering the situation. "We could take a walk and grab something to eat if you like," he suggested cautiously, eager to escape the confines of the cramped space. "I remember how much you like Chinese," he teased playfully, attempting to lighten the mood.

"I would love some food other than instant noodles," you admitted sheepishly as you gathered your belongings hastily, while Cillian attempted to conceal his amazement at your ability to pack everything into a single worn-out backpack. He couldn't imagine living in such conditions, and yet the admiration he felt for your perseverance grew stronger.

You grabbed your jacket and stepped into the chilly night air, the wind whipping your hair wildly around your face.

Cillian followed closely behind, his hands buried deep in his pockets. He kept his distance, giving you ample space to navigate the uneven cobblestone streets. As you walked together, the silence between you felt heavy with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"Are you feeling okay?" Cillian questioned tenderly, his eyes scanning your face carefully. Concern flickered across his features, and he reached out to touch your hand lightly. Your skin warmed beneath his fingertips, a subtle connection forming between you.

"Yes, I am," you answered honestly, turning your gaze away self-consciously.

"I have just been feeling a bit overwhelmed with everything that is happening in my life right now," you confided, placing your hand on your stomach protectively. The truth was, you were still undecided about whether to proceed with the termination, and the constant reminder of this tiny life growing inside you was overwhelming.

"That is understandable," Cillian murmured sympathetically, offering you moral support. "It's a lot to deal with, especially all at once. But I promise to be here for you, regardless of the outcome," he reassured you, his gentle touch conveying his sincerity.

You gazed at him gratefully, appreciative of his unwavering commitment. Even though your emotions were torn between resentment and affection, it was impossible to deny the depth of Cillian's compassion.

"I know it must sound strange, but I feel...

I feel like I can't breathe sometimes, like this is all happening to someone else," you confessed, your voice wavering slightly. "Like I am just watching myself fall apart," you continued, pausing briefly to catch your breath.

"I understand," Cillian consoled you, his grip tightening fractionally on your hand. "I have been there, you know, feeling like I was trapped in a relentless cycle of my own creation after Danielle, and I lost our first baby. I was so focused on my own grief that I didn't notice hers and it quickly drove us apart," he divulged candidly, recalling the darkest moments of his life.

"I am so sorry, Cillian" you whispered softly, your hand reflexively clasping his.

"Don't be," he replied, his grip firming around your fingers. "It's all in the past now. We are finally getting a divorce, which was something I put off for far too long. Besides, I wouldn't be here today if I hadn't gone through it all," he added optimistically, a faint smile flickering across his lips.

You glanced at him, his optimism infectious. His strength amazed you, inspiring you to embrace your own challenges and rise above whatever obstacles lay ahead.

"A few days ago, you asked me whether I would give evidence against Danielle, about the assault," you mused aloud, staring down at the cobblestones below. "I will do it," you declared resolutely, your jaw set firmly. "You need to be able to see Max and she shouldn't withhold him from you regardless of what happened," you added emphatically, your tone hardening noticeably.

Cillian's heart swelled with pride and gratitude, admiring your courage and tenacity. "Thank you," he murmured, squeezing your hand tightly. "I don't expect you to," he added, hesitant to burden you further.

"No, it's important," you insisted, your voice steady with conviction while Cillian stared at you blankly, marveling at your strength and resolve. "Are you sure?" he asked, seeking reassurance.

"Yes, I am," you affirmed, smiling weakly. "But you need to buy me dinner, because I am broke," you joked, playfully nudging Cillian's shoulder.

"Consider it done," Cillian promised, leading you towards a restaurant he knew in the area.

When you arrived at a small Chinese diner nestled between two larger establishments, the scent of authentic stir fry and dumplings filled the air. The neon sign outside buzzed, casting ominous shadows along the street. You exchanged uncertain glances before stepping inside.

Inside, the restaurant was bustling with patrons, a lively mix of locals and tourists enjoying a late supper. The hostess greeted Cillian warmly, her eyes widening upon spotting him. You felt a rush of embarrassment, wondering why everyone seemed to recognize him.

"Can we get a booth please?" Cillian requested politely, guiding you toward a corner table nestled amidst the din of laughter and clinking dishes. The hostess obliged, smiling warmly as she led you both to your desired seating area.

As you slid into the cozy booth seats, you admired the quaint charm of the restaurant and the eclectic mix of patrons milling about. You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief, knowing that you were safely tucked away from the majority of the crowd, which you knew was why Cillian had chosen this table. 

Soon after you were seated, you ordered your favorite dish, spicy fried rice and spring rolls, while Cillian ordered a variety of dishes to share, ensuring that you would enjoy the experience.

"Can you please not put any sprouts on any of these dishes?" Cillian requested politely, squirming slightly in his seat.

Confusion washed over your face. "I am sorry, but is there a reason why you dislike beansprouts?" you wondered curiously, genuinely perplexed.

"Oh, no...I like them. It's just that they are risky when you are pregnant. They sometimes carry listeria," Cillian clarified, his face scrunching up slightly. "You know, just in case you decide to keep the baby, there are some foods you shouldn't eat. I read it somewhere."

You paused, mulling over his words. "Well, then, I suppose we should avoid those," you chuckled nervously, exchanging a fleeting glance with Cillian.

The mention of the pregnancy stirred mixed emotions within you again, prompting a wave of discomfort. Yet, despite the turmoil brewing beneath the surface, you couldn't help but feel compelled by the notion of embracing this newfound potentiality.

"If I was to keep the baby, how would this work, between us?" you asked Cillian warily, trying to gauge his intentions.

Swallowing hard, Cillian shifted uneasily in his seat. "Well, I suppose that depends on what you want," he hedged cautiously, wanting to present a fair arrangement without jeopardizing your autonomy.

"I want to finish my studies and become a lawyer," you replied firmly, meeting his gaze head-on. "I need to focus on that and raising a child at the same time will be difficult," you explained, worry clouding your expression.

Cillian studied you intently, sensing the uncertainty behind your words. "I understand," he murmured, nodding slowly. "I truly do," he repeated, allowing himself a moment to gather his thoughts. "Let me propose something," he offered, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I will help you financially, however discreetly possible, until you graduate. I will buy you a house, for you and our child to live and, in return, you can let me be a part of our child's life. I can help look after the baby. You can work and study. Whatever you want to do. We can have a shared care arrangement in place," he proposed delicately but with determination burning in his eyes.

Your gaze drifted to the busy kitchen, watching the chefs whip up plates of delectable delights. The aromas wafting towards you stirred memories of your childhood spent cooking with your mother. You blinked back tears, yearning for a simpler time when life was less complicated. Swallowing hard, you turned your attention back to Cillian.

"Okay," you said, your voice barely audible amid the cacophony of the restaurant. "But, before I agree to anything, I need to clarify some things. First, you cannot buy me a house. That's too much and it wouldn't feel right," you argued fiercely, clutching your purse tightly.

Cillian shook his head vehemently, his gaze locked on yours. "Please, let me do this," he pleaded, his voice trembling slightly. "You cannot live the way you do with a child on the way," he implored earnestly, his blue eyes pleading with you.

"No, Cillian," you interrupted sternly, the corners of your mouth flattening into a thin line. "I refuse to be indebted to you. If I accept your offer, it will be on my terms."

"How about I buy the house on trust for our child, in my name, and you can pay the same amount of rent you are paying now, for the place you are living in," Cillian tried to compromise his initial proposal.

"That's more reasonable, I suppose," you agreed, your eyebrows arching upward.

"And where would you live?" you pressed, curious about the logistics of such an arrangement. Cillian hesitated, his gaze drifting to the candle flickering on the table.

"Nearby, I suppose," he muttered reluctantly, feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on him. 

Your heart raced, your palms sweating with anxiety. "Alright," you agreed, swallowing hard. "But I will not stop working or studying," you stressed adamantly, raising your chin defiantly. "I want to make a life for myself and our child," you declared, your voice steadying.

Cillian smiled widely, relief washing over him. "I understand," he assured you sincerely before asking "so you will keep the baby?"

You deliberated silently. The decision weighed heavily on your shoulders, as the gravity of your choice bore down on you. This little life growing inside you was a force to be reckoned with, a tangible reminder of the consequences of your actions.

Finally, you met Cillian's gaze, determination reflecting in your eyes. "Yes, I will," you confirmed softly, your voice scarcely rising above a whisper just before Cillian's phone buzzed and he received a message from his sister.

"You are an idiot!" was all it said on the screen before, suddenly, a photograph popped up beneath it.

You glanced at Cillian who was staring at his phone incredulously, his face crinkling in disbelief, seeing that someone had snapped a photo of you, together, holding hands, before posting it on Twitter. 

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