#HIM fanfic

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Hii! Would you mind doing living with ville hcs?

Ville Valo Domestic HC’s

Ville Valo X Gn!Reader

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, alcohol, nudity, pet names (darling, my love), Ville’s nasty ass apartment

An: thank you so much for the request!! I feel that he would be a pretty sweet and relaxed guy to live with tbh :) I absolutely adore writing Ville and I’m on a bit of a headcannon kick so please keep them coming! :D

Every morning, if you woke up first, you’d prepare breakfast before your boyfriend got up and interrupted you

It always ended with you in that tiny Finnish kitchen, on the cold marble countertop, ass naked- as usual

“Why in the world did I fall in love with such an…insatiable young man?”

Still nude, Ville chuckled at your musings as he leaned down to grab himself his breakfast from the fridge,

“Well, darling, perhaps I know how to make a morning interesting…“ He grabbed two bottles from the fridge, closing the door with his hip, “Care for one?”

After you politely declined his morning beers, your boyfriend just shrugged, stealing a piece of toast you made for yourself before slinking away to get ready.

He had to do some work on his the album today, leaving you alone in the flat until he returned that evening

You kissed your goodbyes before he stepped out the door and you wished him good luck at the studio today,

But every day he left you alone in the flat while you didn’t have work, you always struggled to find something to do.

Usually, you’d end up trying to tidy up that pigsty, but you made a point not to disturb any of his personal items,

Gathering up the beer bottles and staying away from various items of his clothing scattered about- a sock here, a pair of underpants there

Which always made him a little embarased when he returned at the end of the day, “Is this…”

“All you? Yep!” Even though you were sure it would happen again, your boyfriend offered to pay for the takeaway that night to make up for it.

And that evening, after dinner, the apartment was lit solely by candlelight as Ville settled down with his guitar, absentmindedly working on a song as he hummed to himself

There was something so undeniably romantic about that image- the way the light danced on his features as he was so absorbed in his craft.

Sitting yourself down on the couch next to him, you smiled, “I love to watch you work…”

Putting his guitar aside, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you a little closer to him,

“Oh, do you, my love?”

Before you knew it, you were both half naked tangled up in eachother’s embrace,

Just another night for the two of you.

[him-x-her]

Kiss The Bear

Author: @sinnysioux

One shot fic: requested by @sincerelyaliciaamarie

Ville Valo x f!reader

Summary: You and Ville get drunk, get into an argument and have sex.

18+

Alicia slammed the shot glass down with force, lips pursed, determined to swallow the liquor. It tasted vile; medicinal. Her oesophagus was on fire.

“Have you had enough, yet?” grinned Ville, teasing, leaning in to gauge her reaction. It was always the same whenever she drank with the boys: forever a competition to see how much she could drink before giving up and allowing them to make fun of her.

“Fucking Jager, I hate drinking with you guys.” She muttered, dishonestly, rolling her eyes. She had made a valiant attempt at pretending she was unphased by the strength and volume of the alcohol she had consumed tonight, but it made them all the more determined to get her to tap out.

Ville was giggly, and had probably had more than enough to drink, but she knew better than to come between a Finn and his vice. She watched as Ville’s long, slender fingers produced a cigarette from his back pocket; the cancer stick forcing his lips apart as he lit it and inhaled. He closed his eyes for a moment, his desperate need for nicotine fed, opened his glazed eyes, and focused on her.

Alicia wore tight black skinny jeans and an old Black Sabbath shirt Ville had given up. The truth was he had taken it off many band practices ago and Alicia had stolen it. She had knotted the front to create a crop fitted shirt out of the loose boy fit, and it complimented her perfectly. Ville often joked that he would reclaim it when she least expected it, but insofar had not made good on his promise.

“Earth to Ville?” She yelled, which seemed to snap him out of his trance.

“What?” He asked, his gaze snapping up to meet hers, guiltily, hoping she had not noticed his fixation on her figure.

“Maybe you’ve had enough, hmm? Guess you’re the one who can’t drink like a Finn…” She teased.

“NEVER!” he declared, pouring and downing himself yet another shot. Boys sure were stupid, and oh so easy to manipulate. She was hell bent on ensuring he passed out first and she would never let him live it down.

The group gathered in the lounge and made themselves comfy on the floor. Mige laid a bottle on the ground. Mige was unshaven, had grown out his hair, and really didn’t give much of a shit. Alicia liked that about him; he was nothing if not authentic.

“The fuck is this?” Questioned Linde, his distaste made public via his sour expression.

“Spin the bottle!” Smirked Mige. “I’m gonna make you kiss me, you dreadlocked cunt!” The group howled with laughter and Linde muttered something about it being more preferable to make out with a wild animal. The bottle spun and landed on Burton, and next his girlfriend.

“Boring!” Yawned Ville, rudely accurate, as the couple kissed sweetly. The bottle span again and landed on Ville. Alicia couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if it landed on her next. She watched the bottle spin with anticipation, her heart in her mouth. The disappointment was disconcerting when it landed on Mige.

“Come here, you hairy bastard!” Teased Ville, straddling Mige’s lap and forcing a kiss upon his closed lips. Mige shoved him off and raucous hilarity ensued. Ville peeled his jeans low enough to grab his crotch lewdly in the direction of Mige, who made fun of his ‘tiny cock’. The drink was starting to hit Alicia as she found herself wondering what was beneath Ville’s boxers.

Alicia suddenly found the room staring at her in amusement.

“What?!” She implored anxiously, before the penny dropped at Mige’s ridiculously animated pout. “No, absolutely not.”

“A dare’s a dare!” Heckled Ville. “KISS THE BEAR!” Alicia began to feel lightheaded as chants of ‘Kiss! The! Bear!’ filled the room, the men slamming their fists down to the ground to the beat of each syllable. No, she didn’t want this. She had wanted to kiss Ville, and she hadn’t been prepared for any other outcome. Overwhelmed with the noise, the lighting and the alcohol, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks, Alicia acted impulsively. She slipped off her heels, unbuttoned her skinny jeans and pulled them down.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Whispered Ville, eyes wide, as the rest of the group cheered.

“I’m not kissing you, Mige, I would lose my face in your beard.” She declared confidently. “But I also don’t shy away from a dare.” She snatched the half-empty can from Ville’s fingers and folded her bare legs beneath her as she sat back down. She could feel Ville’s eyes on her in disbelief before he got up to fetch another can.

Alicia grew increasingly bored with the game, and the hairy men making out in front of her, until the bottle landed on Ville once again. Her interest piqued and her heart leapt in her chest, time stood still as the bottle spun for an eternity… before it pointed at her. Alicia’s wide brown eyes connected with Ville’s timid green; she sensed a fear, and the tension was thick in the air between them. Ville broke the eye contact, stood, and pulled his own jeans down.

“What the fuck?” Whispered Alicia, barely audible. Would he seriously rather strip than kiss her? Alicia looked away, trying to mask her disappointment, and dress it up as disinterest instead. Still she couldn’t hide her sour expression and the need for revenge. Maybe she could kiss one of the boys enthusiastically in front of Ville, to show him how much he missed out.

Alicia spaced out while the game continued; she was starting to sober and she hated it. She was becoming increasingly aware that she was sat on the floor in her panties and she felt incredibly stupid. Snapping out of her self pity with a roar of laughter, she looked up. The bottle was pointing at her. Great, what unwashed miscreant did they want her to kiss next? Mige span the bottle for it to land on Ville once again, but this time it was Alicia’s turn to make the move.

She took a covert breath, and stood. In her brief moment of ascension she decided she would fuck with Ville. She positioned herself in front of Ville and straddled his lap.

“Look, he can finally stop crying about women in our songs!” Laughed Mige. Time stood still as Ville stared up at Alicia with hopeful curiosity. Alicia bit her lip seductively and inched closer to him; she could hear the quickening of his breath as his lips parted slowly.

Brutally severing their connection, Alicia pulled back and stood up, taking a few steps back. She smirked as she began to undo the knot of her shirt, as the rest of the boys cheered.

Ville pursed his lips, glared at Alicia and stood up. He charged at her and threw her over his shoulder.

“What the FUCK, Ville? Put me down!” She yelled as he marched her into the bedroom. His strong arm wrapped around her legs. He paused at the door to address his friends. “This is for MY eyes only.” He bellowed as he slammed the door and let Alicia down.

Alicia was full of adrenaline, a mix of excitement and also anger. “What gives you the right?!” She challenged.

Ville leaned against the wall and folded his arms. He looked less formidable without jeans, in an Iron Maiden shirt and boxers, his legs blindingly pale in contrast. He was evidently furious, but addressed her calmly, “That’s my shirt.”

Alicia pulled the shirt over her head, rolled it into a ball of cloth, and threw it at Ville. It hit him in the chest. “There!” Barked Alicia, “You’ve won it back, you asshole.” She glared back, the tension once again lingering around them. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to kiss him or slap him. Her chest heaving furiously, her breathing began to slow as she calmed.

Ville moved from the wall to stand a couple feet or so in front of Alicia; his hands grabbed the hem of his shirt as he pulled it up and over his head with ease.

“Your move.” He dared, his eyes flitting to her black lace bra.

Alicia felt the blood rush to her cheeks again, hyper aware of the skin already on show. Chewing on her lip nervously, she reached behind her and unclasped her bra. The material loosened as she placed her hands on the cups to prevent spilling out of them. She precariously peeled her straps off over her shoulders one by one, and looked up at Ville. His lips were parted, he was breathing heavily, and his eyes searched hers in anticipation of her next move. Maintaining their eye contact, she dropped her palms and her bra fell to the floor. Ville’s eyes dropped to her chest and widened as her nipples hardened, exposed to the cool air. Her long dark hair framed the picture perfectly which Ville would later commit to memory.

Commanding his full attention once again, Alicia spoke nervously. “Your turn.” She held her breath, her eyes lowering, noticing the stretch in the black cotton of his underwear where his arousal was evident.

Ville looked down and blushed with a smile. He was cute when he wanted to be. His fingers peeled between his boxer hem and skin, rolling the waistband over his hips and allowing them to drop to the floor. His large cock stood to attention as Alicia gasped, she felt her panties moisten as her mind became full of depraved and delicious images. She suddenly found herself incredibly thirsty, saliva lubricating the walls of her mouth.

“Take them off.” Ordered Ville, his lustful eyes fixated on the lace between her legs. “Let me see all of you.”

Alicia, usually full of sarcasm and sass, could not find the words to speak, and was compelled by him. She found her pussy throbbing, aching for him, and there was no alternative but to surrender to his command.

Her fingers shaking slightly, Alicia slipped them into her waistband to pull her panties down. She bent down to slip out of the lace and straightened up. Exposed to his judgement.

“Fucking beautiful.” Muttered Ville, his eyes raking over her naked flesh. He inched closer, the sexual tension thickening. Alicia could not let go of his gaze, anxious for what would happen next, hypnotised by his intense green eyed-stare. He towered over her before softly uttering “Kiss me.”

Alicia placed her palm on Ville’s cheek and tiptoed to meet his lips. They were soft, plump, and he smelled positively flammable. She ran her tongue across his lips as she kissed him sweetly. Alicia gasped and looked down to confirm what she felt. Sure enough Ville’s cock was poking her in the stomach. She felt a small flood between her legs. Though she was struggling to make sense of her emotional feelings, her physical feelings were obvious. Alicia wanted to ride Ville until they both passed out.

As if he could read her lust, Ville kissed her deeply; his tongue forcefully claiming her hot mouth. His strong large hands on her waist began to slip down to grope at her hips. Very suddenly, a finger made its way between her labia lips and she gasped audibly at this delicious violation. A second finger joined the first and Alicia moaned loudly, as her pleasure dripped down to anoint Ville.

“Tell me what you want me to do, baby.” His deep baritone voice making her pulsate with wanting.

“Fuck me.” She begged.

“So impatient.” Chuckled ville, softly falling to his knees. Alicia began to tremble and the fine hairs on her body stood on end as she looked down. Ville kept hold of her gaze as he tongued her slit.

“Oh my god!” Moaned Alicia as Ville lapped at her clitoris with his tongue, dining on the waves of pleasure that dripped from her. He continued to use his fingers, in and out over and over, teasing her with his delicate penetration, as her back fused to the wall in a desperate attempt to remain upright. Her legs began to give way but Ville caught her in his strong arms. His hands snaked around Alicia’s thighs to her ass, lifting her onto her tiptoes so that he could feast on her fully. With each stroke of Ville’s tongue, she became more and more sensitive; she moaned and panted and begged as she came between his lips. Alicia all but collapsed onto Ville as he lifted her and carried her to the bed.

She lay her head down on the soft pillow as he climbed on top of her. Ville began to lick and kiss along her jaw and neck. Alicia squealed at the feel of his wet mouth so close to her chest. His hot and no doubt drunken breath danced along her skin, across her collarbone, lower… oh.

The top of Ville’s tongue found a nipple and pulled it teasingly between his teeth. Alicia’s orgasm had not reduced her wanting in the slightest. Everything south of her navel throbbed and ached for him. She had spent years secretly pining for his touch, and now she would take everything she wanted.

Alicia’s hand found Ville’s shoulder and gently pushed him to the side. He rolled over onto his back and watched her with lustful curiosity. She ran her palms down his smooth chest and wrapped one around his hard cock. He gasped ever so slightly; his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Alicia returned his stare as her wet lips found themselves wrapped around the warm and pink head of his manhood. Ville’s head lolled back as Alicia began to suck.

Ville moaned softly and opened his eyes to take in the vision of her pleasuring him. “You are so fucking beautiful with my dick in your mouth.” He murmured, slightly out of breath, his hand slid to the back of her head, guiding himself further down her throat gently.

Alicia got the message; pushing to swallow every inch of him in ignorance of her own gag reflex. He would never be able to say she wasn’t great at giving head. She chased his orgasm ferociously. Alicia wasn’t sure if they had a future after tonight, so she had to ensure this encounter was everything.

“No.” Moaned Ville. “I’m not finishing in your mouth, baby, let me fuck you.” Who was Alicia to argue? Kneeling, her thighs around his waist, she began to lower herself onto him. His moist head found her soaking slit and forced its way in. Alicia threw her head back in pleasure as Ville gripped her hips aggressively and began to pound her aching pussy.

There followed a symphony of euphoric phrases. In between Ville’s “Fuck!” and Alicia’s “Don’t stop!” the lovers moved in sync with each other.

“Get on your back.” Commanded Ville, suddenly. Alicia dismounted him obediently and did what she was told. Ville positioned himself in between her soft, legs and once again tore into her, leaving bruises on her thighs with his fingertips. His hips jolted forwards and back as he slammed into her over and over viciously and relentlessly. With each thrust, Ville pounded into Alicia’s cervix as she screamed in ultimate pleasure. With each wave, Alicia found herself getting closer, her mound beginning to heat, the pressure beginning to build. Small gasps of air escaped her lips as her sharply manicured nails left red claw marks up and down Ville’s back. They would both be incredibly sore in the morning.

“I- I’m gonna cum.” He moaned softly as he left lashings of thick white love inside her. Alicia wrapped her legs around Ville’s waist at the height of their shared orgasm. They lay there, clammy and entangled for several minutes as their heart rates lowered and their breathing returned to normal. Ville slid out of Alicia and gracefully lay down next to her. His heavy eyes found her, and they lay locked in each other’s gaze.

It was a minute before Alicia remembered… “Oh god, they probably heard us!” She covered her hands with her face and cringed with the shame.

Ville chuckled. “You were incredibly loud…” He smirked.

Alicia rolled over, her head resting on her elbow. “And whose fault was that, hmm?”

Ville blushed, “I regret nothing. Seeing those tits… this has been the best night of my life.” He grinned.

Alicia threw back her head and laughed. “You’re damn right… I don’t get these out for just anybody, you know.”

“Oh?” Questioned Ville, leaning in. “It looked like the whole apartment was very close to getting a show.”

Alicia sighed, “I didn’t want to kiss Mige, I wanted to kiss you. I panicked and… this Finnish asshole made me do shots of jagermeister.”

“He was a bit of an asshole, yes. He didn’t want to share you.” He smiled.

“Well, now you don’t have to.” She smiled back.

Alicia sat up in bed, stretched her arms above her head, and started the search for her clothes. She slid her panties back on and pulled the Black Sabbath shirt over her head. “You snooze, you lose!” She teased. “You are never getting this shirt back.” Ville groaned.

Alicia walked to the door and inched it open slightly… tiptoeing out of the room to get her walk of shame over, quickly. She was surprised to find the apartment completely empty. “Looks like we scared them away!” She called to Ville as she perused the leftover alcohol.

She returned to her naked lover with two cold cider cans. With click of two ring pulls and the metallic clink of their cans together, Alicia and Ville toasted the new found complexities of their relationship.

“Cheers… to new beginnings.” Smiled Alicia.

“And the best fuck of your life!” Grinned Ville, cheekily. It was a grin Alicia decided she wouldn't mind waking up to everyday from now on.

[yourfavecharacterisqueer]

hypothetical scenario for you all: the real king arthur returns. you meet him and you welcome him into your home. what is the first thing you do with him? keep in mind, this is a man from the 500s (he died in 542), and you are from the 21st century (2024).

[jay-wasstuff]

-

Bonus: the old man (+insp)

[kindinb00]

[live-from-flaturn]

"But you already wrote that trope."

[birdy-babe]

Blitzøs entire life spent being unwanted. So he adapted, and learned how to be something needed, something to be used.

Which is why I think he firmly believes he is being used by Stolas. He simply cannot fathom a different reality, one in which he is wanted for once in his life.

[empresskylo]

price getting hurt on a mission and you have to help bandage him up as he tries not to lose consciousness. he gets so loopy from the blood loss he starts to expose his inner thoughts, calling you pretty and how often he thinks about you. “mmm y’smell s’good, love,” he mumbles aimlessly, slurring his words slightly. his fingers running through your hair as you work on his bullet wound, his voice barely a whisper “fuckin’ torturing me.” and you’re not sure if he means because you're hurting him physically or something else entirely.

[mkunart]

I love drawing in my free time 🥲

Sebastian ☕️

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Okayokayokay so I was thinking smth like you're a friend of bams who gets dragged along with most of his adventures which leads to you meeting ville and he just. Instantly is like 'that ones mine, when do you want to move to Helsinki with me' kinda similar to yr bam x model!reader fic iykwim?

Love You To Death

Having Bam Margera as a friend also means you get dragged along on whatever project he’s working on, most recently leading you to Finland, where you would get caught up in something you couldn’t even imagine.

Ville Valo X Fem!Reader (slight Bam Margera X Ville Valo if you squint?)

(Angst, fluff)

3.2k Words

Warnings: Highly suggestive content, alcohol, smoking, manipulation, power imbalance, fighting, toxic relationships

An: Thank you so much for your request! I always love writing for kind of messed up relationships such as this one and would be happy to do a sequel! This is my first time writing a Ville centric fic so lmk what you think! Thank you for the request and please keep sending them!

Being a part of Bam’s crew and following him around everywhere only served to reinforce one fact: you were nobody special. He always claimed that your little group was a package deal, but who was the one always always getting followed by cameras and reporters? Certainly not you, or Ryan, or god forbid Novak. Bam was getting all the product deals, all the interviews, all the chicks. It was no wonder that after years of watching from the sidelines, you were a little jealous. But while you were filming together, you usually tried to push that aside.

“He’s, like- the Elvis of Finland, Y/N!” You were flying out to Europe to film this music video, and Bam had been excitedly gushing about something or other the whole time- this rock star he wanted to introduce you to, but you were pretty clearly not paying much attention. “Chicks pass out when he walks down the street! They’re, like- my favorite band.” Yeah, because if Bam’s a fan of something, that means it’s good. You nodded, sitting back in your economy class seats while you tuned him out.

It was the dead of winter, so Helsinki-Vantaa was completely decked out in Christmas decorations as you touched down, making the whole airport glow amber in the dark blue night- what a sight to wake up to.

☆彡

Half asleep, you were still blinking awake as you arrived at a dim, seedy looking rock club in the center of the city- some place called Tavastia. The bouncers outside took one look at Bam and quickly ushered you guys over to this side entrance, giving him his usual celebrity treatment. Following him to where the band was hanging out backstage, you had to do a double take when you saw that tall stranger sprawled out on the couch, idly smoking his cigarette with half lidded eyes. His eyes flicked up to meet yours first before darting towards Bam, who was standing with a hand held out to pull him to his feet, “Hey, man! What’s up?” There were traces of pink lipstick left on his cigarette as this beauty of a man took a drawl, shrugging, “Nothing much.” His eyes fell on you again as he looked you up and down as he talked with Bam in that low, totally chill register, “Who’s this?”

He introduced you to each other: Y/N, this is Ville. Ville, this is Y/N. Honestly, you misconstrued his subtle flirting as him just being nice- you chalked up how he said it was a pleasure to meet you and the way he kept looking back to you while Bam was excitedly going on about the new video as Scandinavian hospitality, if that’s a thing. You were so oblivious. The roar of the excited crowd was a mere rumble from where you were, and as the band got their cue to head out onstage, Ville shot you a wink as he slipped out the door.

You know that phonemenon where someone goes to a concert and they swear back and fourth the singer was making eye contact with them the entire time? Well, you were pretty sure Ville’s eyes didn’t leave yours for the entire set. He was gazing at you as if you were the only person in the entire world. However, you were pretty oblivious to this- all you were really paying attention to was the music. In fact, Bam noticed this even before you did, though at first he did think he was staring at him before that great, looking from one person to the other realization moment.

☆彡

He didn’t bring it up until you were stepping outside and getting into the waiting taxi, “How are you this oblivious?” Pulling your coat shut as you shook the snow out of your hair, you stepped down into the cab, “Huh?” Bam reached into his pocket, shoving a handful of twenty euro notes at the driver before turning to you, “Dude! He was givin’ you the eyes all night! Did you seriously not know he was into you?” The edge in Bam’s voice struck you as odd, but you were certainly listening now. “If I was in your shoes, Y/N- I’d be all over that shit in a heartbeat.” You still didn’t believe what he was saying. Why would a man like Ville- a man as famous as him (and as adored by women as him) want anything to do with you? You are barely a B list star in America. You weren’t a model or a pop star or anything- you got famous for hanging out with a guy who was fameous, which was nothing. Turning to look out the window as the snow flurried by in the pitch black night, you shrugged as the car sped off.

Bam received a phone call that night- from Ville, of course, grilling him for everything he knew about you. “From the moment I saw her, we had this…connection.” He mused, speaking in that flowery way he did when he was very passionate about something, “I have to have her. I’m sure you know what I mean, right?” Hushing the shock in his voice so he wouldn’t wake you, he leaned in close to the receiver, “Hold your horses, man- you just met her!” Oh, it’s not as if he would understand how he felt about you. Compared to him, Bam was a teen boy when it came to romance. But Ville’s fame usually got him what he wanted and, not wanting to appear lame in front of a man he respected so much, it only took a little priding to get your friend to eventually spill all the information he needed.

It was only a surprise to you when you discovered what was waiting in front of your hotel room door the next morning. A bouquet of flowers- your favorite flowers, which definitely weren't in season that time of year- bundled together with a black, silk ribbon. You examined them curiously, turning over the attached card and gasping when you saw who it was from. Maybe Bam was right about that.

★彡

Bam was in director mode the entire time you tagged along with him to the shoot, which is a nice way to say he was being a meticulous jerk. There was this whole production setup, with all these big cameras and mics and wires strewn about the floor- real professional looking, nothing like the run and gun camcorder stuff you were used to. It was dazzling enough to walk through this huge, baroque manor in the middle of the Czechian countryside, but to film in it?

Now, you didn’t catch the beginning of this argument, but while you were drooling over the fancy equipment, you heard something about the European model chick they were intending to have in the video running late. Despite this, Ville seemed surprisingly nonchalant about the situation as he reasoned with Bam, “Why don't we just use her?” Bam huffed out some response about how expensive it was to get this lady and Ville’s eyes wandered over to you, “I mean,” Ignoring him, he looked you up and down, speaking barely loud enough you could hear him, “she’s already very beautiful- She wouldn’t need very much hair and makeup.” Bam gave up his protest and went over to begrudgingly drag you to the makeup tables, mumbling something about this only being a practice run. All of this was leaving you confused and far more flustered than you could care to admit.

You weren’t sure what to make of everything that was happenings, and Bam’s very barebones direction of ‘be sexy’ right before the camera started rolling wasn’t helping much. It also didn’t help that you had this absolutely angelic man in front of you, serenading you completely shirtless. This is the kind of thing middle aged women read paperbacks to expereince, and there you were. While you tried your damndest to act all minxy (and frankly failing at it), Vile was so effortlessly confident. This incubus was bewitching you, and you were falling for his spell.

☆彡

That night, after the shoot, the three of you met up at the pub down the road. Ville greeted you with one of those cute European double cheek kisses, your skin being warmed by the yellow streetlamp you were standing underneath. Bam, who was standing right next to you, turned his face in anticipation, but the only thing he received from Ville was a friendly pat on the back (which was more of a shove) towards the door, “The bar’s that way! Go get yourself a drink.” It sent him stumbling ahead of you two and he looked back with bewilderment as you felt an arm slip around your shoulders. Despite the fact that you looked an awful lot like a couple, you didn’t mind being seen with this eye candy. Walking with Ville by your side was like walking through a dream. These beautiful women and beautiful men that lined the dark, wood paneled halls of the old pub all greeted him with admiration as you made your way to the bar. Some of the bolder women even reached out to touch him with fond, feather light caresses as he passed by, which he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“You were wonderful today, Y/N.” Ville took the seat next to yours at the bar, leaning against the counter as he spoke in that mesmerizing way he did whenever he was talking to you, “Honestly, we’re thinking of using that take in the final video- you were much better than that model.” Your eyes went wide, and so did Bam’s as he leaned around you, “What’re you talking about? She was great!” This whole music video business was drawing a wedge between the two of them, and you were caught in the middle of it. Bam waved his hands to dismiss the notion. “Whatever- you know what?I think it went really well today.” It was odd- if it was anyone else but Ville he was taking to, you knew he would’ve stood his ground a little more. Even the way he talked around him was different. Bam shrugged, taking a swig of his beer to look nonchalant, “I just got some editing to do tomorrow and I should have somethin’ by the end of the day.” Your attention was drawn away as, leaning in towards you to be heard over the chatter of the bar, Ville murmured close to your ear, “Maybe while Bam’s busy doing that, I could show you around Helsinki tomorrow. Hmm?”

Well, how could you say no to that?

★彡

The next morning, Ville picked you up in front of your hotel and took you around to these beautiful, romantic spots. One among the many you visited was this gigantic church: Helsinki Cathedral, he told you it was called. Up the marble steps, you wandered about the stark, white columns near the entrance as Ville went on about the history of this building, “If I recall, it was built in tribute to Nicolas the first- back when this land was under Russian rule in the 1840s.” Though you would never say this aloud, you were really surprised at his knowledge of history. Ville was nothing like the grimey skater dudes that you usually hung around. He had this intelligent, charming air about him, and it helped that he didn’t smell like you sprayed a whole can of Axe body spray into a bag of Jack Links.

You didn’t even notice that he was looking at you as he mused aloud, “If I were to ever get married, Y/N, It would certainly be here.” From the second you walked in the room back at the club, Ville had his sights set on you. If it were a socially acceptable thing to do, Ville would’ve asked you to move in with him right then and there, but unfortunately he had some awareness of social graces. And as he stood on the steps with you, Ville just knew you would look like a princess dressed in white- an angel. He let his thoughts run wild a bit from there. Your lips were moving but the only thing he could hear was church bells.

Maybe not that fast- you were a sensible woman after all, Ville thought, and you didn’t seem the type to jump to get hitched to a man only because he was famous and interested. But that didn’t stop him from trying to subtly plant that thought in your head, conveniently taking a detour on the way back to your hotel to show you that wooden bridge in town that lovers and newlyweds place locks on to proclaim their affections for one another.

☆彡

You and Bam shared this look of confusion when the front desk lady told you there was something wrong with your reservation. A call was placed earlier and you had already checked out, she said, but despite Bam’s frustrated explanation that you already paid for that night, she wouldn’t hear him out- no refunds, hotel policy. Staring out the front window at the snow that was blustering by in the less than negative temperatures that were typical of a Helsinki winter, you racked your mind for options. Bam beat you to it, closing his flip phone with a click, “I just got off the phone with Ville-'” That knowing grin spread further across his face as he continued in a tone that indicated he was very proud of himself, “and he said we could crash at his flat for the night. He’s sending a car right now!”

A few moments later, the concierge let Bam know that he had a phone call for him. Reaching over the counter, he grabbed the receiver and pressed it to his ear, not noticing that you had slipped out the door even after you turned and called to him as you left, “Hey, I’ll wait out front!” It was really well choreographed- Ville called him just as that hot, black car pulled up in front of the hotel. Rolling down the window, he took in the sight of you there, standing under the yellow glow of that street lamp, waiting for him in the cold like some abandoned puppy on the side of the road. It was cute. You were walking around to the other side of the car as he lifted up the phone he was conveniently hiding below the window and pressed it to his ear, mumbling an “I'll call you back,” to Bam before flipping it shut. Sliding onto the warm, leather seat next to Ville was a welcome respite from the cold as you sighed, closing the door. He smiled at you and gently took your hand, placing a sweet kiss on your knuckle- this prince charming move that made you wonder if this was also a common gesture in Finland as you blushed and stammered, “Thanks for the, uh- thanks for the ride. How’s Bam gonna, like- get to your place…?” He shrugged nonchalantly, sitting back and looking back out the window as you sped off. “Oh, I just talked to him. We’re sending another car later to pick him up- he’ll be fine.” Once again, Ville’s fame got him what he wanted. The only thing he needed to do was make a phone call.

After you were done kissing your hellos, he talked with you on the drive to his place, but not the way Bam usually did- he wasn’t talking at you. Instead, Ville asked you how you were liking Finland or if you’d ever thought of moving here- he’d be happy to get you a place to stay and help you with the language if you were interested. Honestly, he made the whole concept of leaving your life in America behind sound pretty damn promising.

☆彡

“Wow…your place is really nice.” You looked arround with awe as you walked in the door, and even through the dimness you could tell it was a pretty upscale apartment. “I don’t spend a lot of time here- really. Just a place to crash between tours.” The only light in the room came from Ville’s fridge as he opened it, leaning inside. “Something to drink?” Sitting on his couch timidly, you gave him an, “mmhm,” and he came back with two beers, placing on on the glass coffee table and opening the other himself. Blue light cascaded onto his delicate features from the window that sat behind you, the only way you saw him in the darkness.

You couldn’t place your finger on what was so bewitching about Ville, but you had this whole image of him in your head already. He probably paints and writes poetry in this apartment, you thought. He probably spends his evenings on this very sofa, idly sipping wine for hours before throwing on his coat to solemnly wander about misty graveyards and lament the fleetingness of life and love while placing roses on headstones. He just seemed like the type.

The whole time the two of you were chatting over drinks and discussing how well the video went, Ville kept getting calls that he would quickly hit the ignore button on without any explanation. This would’ve set off red flags in any sane person, but at this point you couldn’t exactly consider yourself sane with the way you were drawn to him. What you didn’t know was who was calling him- Bam, who’d been waiting for that car to show up for the past two hours. That was until he called you and you quietly excused yourself to take it. “Dude! Okay, okay, okay-” He rambled on, “so basically- all the hotel shit’s sorted out! There was an issue with some system- i know- and they gave us all this complementary free shit!” From the way Bam was slurring his words, you could tell he was already making a dent in the mini bar. Still, you were relieved that everything got sorted out, however suspicious the circumstances.

But despite how happy Ville seemed to hear the news, you could tell there was something else happening in his head. Standing up, you were making your way toward the door when you felt something stop you. It was a hand- pale, long fingers firmly grasping your arm, and there was something possessive about the way it held onto you, like someone holding onto something for dear life. “Ville…?” Turning to him, the only way you could make out his presence was from the way the light flooding in the window silhouetted him. There was this aching, earnestness in his voice. “Don’t go. Don’t leave Finland.” There was something in his pleading words that made you think that he wouldn’t know what tomorrow would bring if he woke up and you weren’t there. “What? You- you want me to stay?” Answering your silent question of ‘how long?’, Ville continued, all but encouraged by the sympathy bubbling up in the corners of your eyes. “I don't know: a day, a month- a year? Forever? Just, please- don’t leave. I need you.”

“My heart, my body- my soul needs you. Just…stay.”

[him-x-her]

masterlist

Vamp!Ville Valo

Vee is for Vampires

CHAPTER 1 🥀 Saved by a stranger.

CHAPTER 2 🥀 Burn the hat.

CHAPTER 3 🥀 “I’m the hungry vampire now.”

CHAPTER 4 🥀"I am scared to death to fall in love."

CHAPTER 5 🥀 "Go to sleep, Nosferatu."

CHAPTER 6 🥀Foreverlost

CHAPTER 7 🥀 The Moon and the Stars

CHAPTER 8 🥀 coming soon...

[vampireyuuta]

includes: f! reader, aged up! megumi, breeding, short, pregnancy mentioned

megumi is obsessed with cumming inside you.

don't even bring up condoms to him. he’ll shoot you the dirtiest glares.

he can't help it, it's just human nature. it's only natural that he wants to fill you up, wants to finger his cum back into your leaking hole. what's so wrong with that?

he seriously can't cum without being inside you anymore. jacking off isn't even an option. he’s calling you the second he's hard. he needs to have his seed filling your womb, not wasted on his hand. that's how it should be.

you know better than to say anything about pulling out to megumi by now. he's slamming harder into you when he gets close, in fact. his tip rams against your cervix over and over again as his eyes roll back into his skull.

“fuck,” he groans, “gonna—ha—gonna fill you up real good,” he says breathlessly.

he brings a hand to cup your tummy, calloused fingers holding you so gently in contrast to how hard he’s fucking you. he watches the bulge of his cock in your stomach appear and disappear with each harsh thrust and suddenly you feel it.

white, hot, and sticky. it fills up your womb, his tip pushed so so deep inside you as he cums. he squeezes the fat of your stomach just a little tighter as he finishes in you.

thank god for birth control is always your first thought.

on the other hand, megumi is dreaming of the day you'll be getting pregnant.

[bobateababe]

Sukuna purposely lets you win in board games. He pretends to be all ancient and dumb about the modern world, but in reality he's smarter than he appears.

He loves seeing the prideful look on your face when you insert a chip into the slot of connect 4. The way you pump your fist in the air and get cocky whenever he loses has his dick standing straight up. He just loves seeing his baby win.

"Ha!" you shout. "I win again! see that? 4-0. See Suku?" You stop and look at Sukuna, expecting to see an expression of disappointment on his face. Instead, he sits there cross legged on the floor, with his chin resting in his hand as he love sickly smirks at you, looking deep in your eyes and admiring the way your features tighten and become fiery the heat of your little victory.

"I suppose you did win my goddess"

[kindinb00]

[briefkittenearthquake]

I like my men smart

[swordsandholly]

Double Date - Double Down

NSFW | MDNI

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!plus size!reader

Word count: 4.9k

Summary: When you get a call in the middle of the afternoon from your friend begging you to fill an empty spot on a double date your initial instinct is a hard no. After all, no one wants to go on a blind double date and be surprised by the fat friend. It doesn’t help that this Simon guy is stupid fucking hot and obviously doesn’t like you - if his lack of talking is anything to go by.

A/N: Just a fun little oneshot I used as a warmup between working on chapters of future multi chapter projects.

“I said *no*.” You snap, angrily folding the washcloth in your hands.

Your friend splutters from the other side of the phone, the desperation in her voice only growing now that she’s on her fourth ask. “*Pleeeaase*! Steph backed out last minute and no one else is free-“

“How do you know I’m free?”

“You just said you were!”

You huff. She’s got you there. When she first called, you admitted you didn’t have anything going on but that was *before* she told you the plan for the night. Before she mentioned that her very, very conventionally hot military boyfriend wanted to do a little double date with his friend and one of hers. Plus, you take a least a little offense to being second choice. Really, last choice, it seems.

“Cass, you can’t just set up a blind date and take your fat friend. That’s not-“

“You’re not fat, love. You’re beautiful.” Her words drip with turned honey. You make a gagging face to yourself in the mirror. “You just need more confidence!”

You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could try, for the millionth time, to explain to her the nuanced ins and outs of dating as a fat woman. The rules and stats that could rival even the most complex rpg… or you could be petty. It takes less time to be petty. “If I go, you’re paying for my drinks.”

“Johnny’s friend will probably-“

“Yeah, and when he leaves you’re paying for my tab.”

“He won’t-“

“We got a deal?”

She clicks her tongue. “*Fiiiine*.”

At least you can get wasted for free either way. A small consolation. She texts you the time and location, barely leaving you with enough time to shower and turn yourself into something presentable. Not that you really care. It’s going to be shit either way, most likely. Staring yourself down in the mirror, you suppose you could at least try to look somewhat attractive. If you’re about to get rejected (or possibly shouted at, you’ll never forget *that* horrendous interaction) you might as well feel your best.

The pub is small as you push through the front door. Casual. A couple pool tables, some darts, a large bar and few booths with stools on the outer side. You scan the room, searching for Cass’s familiar face.

“Over here!” Cass waves with a wide arc at you, a grin plastered from ear to ear. At least she’s having fun.

You take a long breath, bracing yourself for whatever is about to happen. Cass introduces you to her boyfriend - who is somehow even hotter in person. You can see why she’s so smitten with him. Johnny looks you up and down as he shakes your hand. He doesn’t comment, or make a face, or really react in any particular way, but you can feel a shift. Something in his eyes…

Maybe it’s just your imagination. You’ve always been a little over sensitive.

“Si will be back in a sec. Stepped over tae get a drink.” He flashes a grin.

You hum, quietly folding your hand as Cass pushes a cocktail for you that she preemptively ordered. Criticize her as much as you like, she knows her mixes.

“There he is.” Johnny grins, turning slightly.

You follow his gaze, heart sinking as your eyes settle on the man approaching your table. He’s massive. Tall and wide. Total brick shithouse. His face is mostly covered by a black surgical mask. A few years ago you might have questioned it but at this point you couldn’t care less, especially when his dark eyes meet yours, small flecks of gold honey catching the low bar lights. Barely styled tufts of blonde hair stick up from his head. They look like they might curl if he let it grow a little longer.

All in all, wayyyy out of your league.

He settles into his seat with all the confidence of any military man - back ramrod straight. He extends a large hand. “Simon Riley.”

You murmur your name, somewhat enthralled by the half lidded, almost bored look in his eyes. Now that he’s closer you notice a large scar splitting his left eyebrow and light, newly forming crows feet in the corners of his eyes.

“S-so you’re military, too?” You stutter, eyes trained on his the massive hand holding his glass. It’s nicely vascular, his nails are well groomed but it also looks like he could snap you in half with it.

Not that that’s entirely a bad thing - whatever that may or may not say about you.

He nods. “I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Oh! Officer position. So you’re smart, then?” You try to be charming, to give him a sweet smile and keep your body language open.

“Enough.” He deadpans. It takes a few beats for you to realize he’s not going to say anything else.

“Uh…” You squirm awkwardly under his gaze. It’s intense - his dark eyes nearly black in the low light of the bar. “I do hair.”

Conversation is slow, to say the least. The longest answer he gives you is maybe five words. He only flips up the mask long enough to take a sip of his drink every so often. You start to talk less, opting toward a group conversation in which Johnny takes the lead, which he is obviously very good at. He regales you and Cass with a few stories of his and Simon’s adventures. Some funny, some brave, some worrying. He’s setting the man up to be a god, nearly, but Simon himself just shakes his head and insists Johnny is exaggerating.

You wonder what he sees in Simon. Alternatively, you wonder what *you’re* supposed to see in Simon. Besides his good looks, of course. He’s… bland. Obviously bored if his constant glances toward the exits and rhythmic, occasional tapping on the corner of the table are anything to go by.

“Want tae go dance, lovie?” You overhear Johnny as he leans in toward Cass.

She glances at you, then Simon, then back to you before nodding enthusiastically. “We’ll give you two some time *alone*.”

In any other situation, you’d probably beg her to stay in desperation for a conversation buffer. Here and now, though, you’re grateful. You can finally let this poor guy off the hook. You wait until they’re gone; fully out of earshot before turning to the man in front of you.

“I…uh… look…” You chew your lip, glancing between him and your folded hands on the table. “Sorry… I know I’m probably not what, uh, what you expected… I get it if you want to leave. It’s - you don’t have to stay, or whatever. Don’t have to be polite…”

He cocks an eyebrow, eyes boring through your skull. “Why would I want to leave?”

“I know what I look like. You don’t have to be nice.”

His raised brow turns into a slight frown. “I think you’re quite pretty.”

You scoff - blushing despite yourself. “Again, you don’t have to be nice.”

“Do I seem like the type to just be nice?”

You continue to gnaw at your lip. He’s got you there. Simon definietly doesn’t come off as the type to bow to polite society. “You’ve barely talked to me.”

He stares for a moment. It’s his turn to avert his eyes, swirling around the whiskey in his glass awkwardly. Almost bashfully. “It’s not you. I’m… not great in public… especially in crowds…”

Oh.

*Oh*.

You’ve completely misjudged him, haven’t you? Shit. He’s just a big awkward lug isn’t he?You sigh, rubbing your temple. “Oh God, *I’m* the asshole, aren’t I?”

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t go that far.”

“I’m sorry it’s just…” you scrub a hand over your face. “Most men don’t really want to be surprised with a fat girl on a blind date. Guess I assumed the worst.”

Simon hums. A low vibration that settles into your bones. He gets up, sliding into the booth side of the table beside you - his massive frame pushing into your space. He smells like spices. Cinnamon and pepper. A little hint of leather and tobacco underneath. It’s heady, and some primal part of your mind wishes you could roll around in it like a dog.

“Some men might like a waifish little thing, that’s their business, but personally…” He leans in, a large hand resting on your wide thigh. “Yeah. I like somethin’ I can get a proper handful of.”

“*Oh*.” You squeak, back stiff. Was that what you saw in Johnny’s face before? Approval?

“‘Ere’s a thought - we go back to mine. S’quiet. Can talk more freely. See where the night goes, hm?”

You smile hesitantly, finally looking up to meet his gaze. It’s honest. Kind. Dark pools of sincerity. It’s against your better judgement. Impractical. Out of character. Even so, you allow yourself to surrender with a warmth in your cheeks and a small nod.

“I’ll get an Uber.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away. “Five minutes out.”

“Want to wait outside?” You offer, nodding toward the front entrance. Simon just nods, following you out close behind. Neither of you say much of anything while you wait, but you watch him out of the corner of your eye. He taps on his leg a few times in much the same way as he did on the table.

He dutifully opens the car door for you, letting you slide in before climbing in beside you, long legs slightly cramped in the small sedan.

“You don’t live on base?” You ask as the Uber drives away from the infamous military housing. You’d been there once or twice - a while ago when you were younger and messier.

“S’too loud.” He shrugs. “Too crowded.”

“Well, at least you’re consistent.” You smile.

Simon hums, resting his hand on your thigh once again. It’s casual, not too high up or too much pressure. Not presumptuous.

“How’d Johnny get you out there in the first place? If you’re so *averse*.” You tilt your head.

He shrugs, “Was supposed to be another Sergeant we work with but I guess he cancelled. No one else was free.”

“Ah, so we’re both last choices, then.”

“Yeah?”

“Made Cass promise me free drinks if I came.”

“Smart girl.” He chuckles, holding out a hand to help you up out of the car upon your arrival. His hand is warm when you take it, and a small part of you feels disappointed when he lets go.

The building is small. Old. All red brick with a thirty year old intercom and an elevator that you’re pretty sure hasn’t been inspected since the place was built. About halfway down the hall, you start to second guess yourself. You don’t know a thing about this guy - you don’t know what’s going to happen as soon as you get on the other side of his door. His weird, bright red door. Wait - why is this whole floor covered in red doors?

“Alright?” He grunts, back turned to you as he wrestles with the lock.

“Uh - why is your floor color themed?”

Simon laughs, wide shoulders shaking with the movement. It’s a low sound, something that vibrates in his chest. Makes you want to press your ear to it, see how it feels. If it will reverberate into your bones as well. “The old lady that owns the building is a bit… unique. Likes to talk about colors and karma and destiny stuff.”

“Ah.” You nod, as if that makes any sense at all. “So you’re red?”

“Apparently.”

His apartment is actually quite homey, as you step into it. From a stiff military man like him you expected something akin to an ikea floor model. Instead it’s furnished with a well worn, green couch. A large TV with an extremely up-to date surround sound system and an entertainment center filled to the brim with CDs sits against the wall. A few movie posters fill the walls. All horror classics - you count three of the scream movies. The first two final destination. There are condensation rings on the coffee table.

Behind you, you hear the door lock and unlock three times, but you don’t pay it much mind.

“Want a drink?” Simon asks, already popping open a decanter full of something gold on a small drink cart beside the kitchen island.

“Sure.” The agreement is automatic - blurted out before you can second guess taking a drink from a total stranger.

You watch a little too closely as he takes off his light jacket, exposing his strong arms and a half sleeve tattoo. It’s a bit tacky, all skulls and military symbols. The black ink has been sun worn over time. The motif of a young getting his first tattoo after enlisting. He settles down on the couch with the decanter and two glasses, patting the spot beside him. You plop down. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.

His fingers loop into the mask’s straps. You find yourself watching with wide eyes and bated breath as he removes it. His nose is crooked - broken more than a couple times, you think. There’s a scar running from his nose to upper lip that could only come from a cleft palette. It’s charming, in a way. When he turns toward you, you notice a patch on the side of his face that looks like a rather large burn all the way down to his sharp jaw. The roughness of him works, somehow. The scars and tattoos and choppy hair all coming together to create the visage of a life hard lived.

“You’re really pretty…” the words slip from your tongue before you can stop them.

Simon splutters out a laugh, the slightest hint of color appearing across his cheeks. “Didn’t take you for a flatterer.”

“I’m not.” You huff before nodding toward the posters. “Horror fan?”

He hums, passing you a glass. “Are you a fan? Of horror, I mean.”

“Found footage!” You grin a little too excited. “It’s the best genre.”

“Terrible taste.” He scoffs.

“Wrong! Found footage can be anything you want it to be - slasher, thriller, mystery, mocumentary. Anything.”

“Which makes them messy.” He argues. “Anyone can make one.”

“Yeah! Theres so many hidden gems out there.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Oh, I’ll put you on them. We just need to get you a good one.”

“Askin’ me on a second date already, love?”

“Oh, fuck off.” You shove at his shoulder. He was right, it is so much easier to talk freely out of the bar. Away from everyone and everything. His posture is far more relaxed, laid back into the couch with his hips canted forward rather than stiff as a board.

“We could watch one now?” He offers. If you were more sober, you might have heard the twinge of pleading in his voice. As it stands you’ve already drained the glass he gave you and are perfectly buzzed enough to be ignorant to the subtler parts of communication.

How convenient.

“Okay.” You whisper.

After a bit of debating back and forth you settle on Hell House. After all, it’s been your tried and true method for getting anyone and everyone into the genre. You don’t notice it, at first, but you slowly begin to scoot closer to him as you fold your knees up on the couch. Eventually, tucking yourself under his arm sling across the back cushions. Between him and the drinks - which you’re pretty sure is a rather fancy bourbon - you feel what could only be described as snuggly. Limbs loose and pliant, smile easy and words flowing as you cheer and jeer at the characters together.

At some point, Simon’s dark eyes meet between yours. You lean in, so does he. Inch by inch until your lips meet. It’s tentative, at first. Testing the waters. His lips are soft and move expertly against yours. You part for him has his tongue darts across your lower lip.

It’s easier than it usually is for you. Easy to let him pull you over his lap. To rest your hands on his broad shoulders as you take each other in. Normally, you’re not a person for one night stands. A commitment kind of gal. You can’t exactly say no, though, when you have a beautiful man’s hands traveling over your body like it’s the only thing in the world worth paying attention to right now.

He breaks the kiss just long enough to grunt, “Bedroom?”

“*Yes*.” You gasp between kisses.

Suddenly those large hands grasp under your ass as you’re hauled up. You grapple to hold onto the back of his neck, keeping your weight forward.

“Simon!”

“Yes, love?” He asks as if he didn’t just life you like a sack of potatoes.

“A-aren't I heavy?” You question as he makes his way through the apartment, peppering kisses over your neck and jaw.

“No.” He replies bluntly. Like what you asked was stupid.

You’re placed on a bed with all the gentleness of a rare china plate- one hand cradling your upper back and the other tucked under your thighs. There isn’t any time to take in the room before Simon is kissing you again but you do count approximately five pillows and zero navy sheets.

That shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

Simon leans in close, nose ever so slightly bumping yours. “Before we keep going, I want to establish a rule. Red light means stop. At any time, for any reason.”

You can’t help but smile. “Okay.”

“Say it back, doll.”

“Red light means stop.” You reach up and cup his face. So handsome. So warm.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. “Let’s get these off, hm?” Simon pulls your clothes off deftly - dragging those rough palms over your skin as he moves and kneading at the plushness of your hips appreciatively.

You reach up to tug at his shirt. “S’not fair if I’m the only one naked.”

Simon chuckles and hastily sits back to yank the shirt over his head, giving a lovely show in the process. You think this what people mean when they talk about an Adonis. There’s a comfortable soft layer of his strong abdomen. Something you want to sink your teeth into. Your fingers trace each dip and curve of his muscles, the lovely shape of his pectorals, the raised scars littering his body. Floral shapes from bullets along with slashes and smaller jabs. A particularly nasty one runs down his side, coving his ribs. A burn, you think.

“You’re beautiful.” You murmur. Definitely out of your fucking league. You move to sit up, reaching for his waistband.

His hand pushes your shoulder back on the bed. “Let me take care of you tonight, bird.”

Your face warms. Simon kisses your cheek, continuing down to your chest and taking one of your nipples in his mouth. Gently sucking and nipping at it while flicking the other with his hand. A shameful whimper escapes your throat.

Simon leans up to murmur in your ear, “What do you want, sweet girl?”

“Want you to fuck me…” You murmur, embarrassment making you want to close your legs. His solid hips block you.

“Oh, I will, but first I want those beautiful thighs wrapped around my head.” Simon continues to place kisses down your body, over your stomach, stopping right at your panty line and tracing along it with rough fingers. His arms circle your thighs and in one swift motion your hips teeter on the edge of the bed, Simon kneeling between them. His fingers hook in the waistband of your underwear.

“W-wait…” You sit up on your elbows.

He freezes, looking up at you.

“I, uh, I haven’t exactly *landscaped* in a while… wasn’t really planning-“

Simon huffs out a laugh. “I’m a grown man, love. You think a little bush is gonna scare me off?”

All thoughts related to anything within the proximity of embarrassment come to an instant halt as Simon’s lips wrap around your clit- sucking and nipping and lapping like a man starved. Like he’d die without it. A low groan rumbles through his throat.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, whimpers and moans interrupting any chance you may have at putting words together.

“Taste so fucking good, princess.” He mumbles against you. A shaky moan rattles through you as he pushes a thick finger in, working it gently. His other than grips your hip tightly, pinning you in place. The pet-name sends a shiver down your spine - leaving you rolling your hips and clenching on the finger inside you.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I can tell your close, baby.” Simon groans. “Cum for me. Come on, be a good girl and cum all over my fucking tongue.”

The bastard knows the power he has in that voice. He *has* to. That baritone gravel sinks in your veins and all you can do is whimper. Panting pathetically the closer you get. His fingers curl up and your back arches harshly as your climax washes over you. Your legs tremble as he works you through it; stopping just shy of pushing you too far.

“Hey!” You gasp indignantly as a jolt shoots up your spine as he settles a final, harsh suck on your clit.

Simon taps your hip, climbing back over you as you scoot up on the bed. He carelessly kicks off his pants as he goes, toeing them off before settling between your legs. Those dark eyes rake over you leisurely - taking in every inch. Every curve and dip and flaw categorically. He sucks in a breath and sighs. “Bloody ‘ell, look at you… so fuckin’ pretty.”

Your face heats and you look away. “Who’s the flatterer now?”

“Not me. Just bein’ honest.” He places a quick kiss to your soft jawline before reaching over to dig through his nightstand drawer. You don’t miss the gold foil of the condom wrapper.

You can’t stop yourself from licking your lips as he pulls off his boxer briefs. Simon is uncut, already ruddy and leaking and just begging for your mouth. Maybe next time, though. He’s already slipped on the condom, carefully hooking one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his hip. The man has a laser-focus to him, you’ll give him that.

“Still want t’ keep goin’?” He mumbles, eyes locked on his cock as is drags between your folds.

“*Please*.” You whine pathetically. Simon’s chuckle turns into a gasp as he presses in. It’s achingly slow and you roll your hips in demand for more.

Simon lets out a low groan as his hips meet yours. The stretch is perfect - just enough to feel completely full without pushing you too far. As though your bodies were made to slot together just so. Your head falls back, chest heaving as you beg him to move, to fuck you, just *please* for the love of god-

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a sloppy smile before setting a brutal pace. You find yourself clawing at his back, clinging to him as your back arches and the most obscene sounds are systematically torn from your throat. The angle he has your hips placed causes his cock to bully that sensitive spot inside you - dragging over it with every thrust.

Simon leans toward, bracing himself on his forearms and pinning you under him as he fucks into you. “So fuckin’ good f’me. Knew you would be. So soft and sweet and goddamn *pretty*.”

“*Fuck, Simon*.” You gasp, nose bumping against his as your lips intertwine. Breaths and moans intermingle as you both chase that edge. There’s nothing else, in this moment, just you and Simon and the sounds only he has ever managed to pull from you.

Your orgasm hits you like a train. Out of nowhere and all at once, tensing every muscle into a trembling mess as you clamp down around his cock. Simon sinks his teeth into your neck as his own climax takes him, cradling you close and moaning out your name so muddled you almost miss it.

For a few moments, you stay frozen in place trying to catch your breath as you come down. Your limbs feel like jelly when you finally try to move, body limp and pliable. It almost feels like a loss as he pushes off of you, leaving you open and vulnerable to the cool night air while he ties off the condom.

“Be right back.” He murmurs, slowly climbing off you and heading for an attached bathroom off to the left.

You let your eyes slipped closed only to jump and shoot back open as a dap rag drags between your thighs. A little yelp escapes you as the rough material drags across your oversensitive clit. Simon chuckles at you, tossing the rag back somewhere in the bathroom before crawling into the bed beside you. It’s so easy to curl into his chest and let those strong arms encircle you.

“Have fun, love?” Simon murmurs into your hair.

You just hum happily, smiling against his hard chest.

“Good.”

It’s just as easy as the rest of it to fall asleep like that. To seek out the warmth of his body in your satiated haze and press into him, allowing the night and rhythmic beating of his heart to overtake you. You feel four small taps between your shoulder blades just before tipping over the edge into comfortable nothing.

You wake slowly to an empty bed. The light from the window above you streams in - bathing the room in a light golden tone. It’s cozy. The blankets seem to pull you in, keeping you snugly in place. Distantly, you hear the sound of pots and pans clinking.

Shockingly, you’re not hungover. Well, not much at least. There’s a slight twinge in your head and a not unpleasant soreness in your hips. You dig around, finding your clothes strewn across the room haphazardly. Your underwear are nowhere to be found and you eventually give up with a shrug. They weren’t one of your best pairs anyway.

When you come out of the bedroom, you pause. Simon stands in the kitchen, working on something over the stove wearing only a pair of sweatpants. They hang loosely around his hips, showing off the rises and dips of his strong muscles and well defined waist. This scene somehow feels too intimate despite your activities the night before.

“Perfect timing.” Simon turns, placing a plate down on the kitchen island. The omelette before you looks immaculate, all the way down to a light garnish on top.

Your eyes turn to saucers. “You…you made me breakfast?”

“Course.” He nods sharply as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if *not* doing so would be some sort of affront. Either you’re still asleep and this is all a dream or you stumbled upon the perfect man through pure happenstance.

He turns the stove off and on and off twice before standing at the counter across from you while you sit on one of the stools at the island. It’s a comfortable silence as you both eat. Simon keeps glancing up at you as if waiting for your disapproval. Boyish, somehow, despite the size and breadth of him.

It’s perfect. The eggs practically melt in your mouth and the goat cheese and vegetables taste fresh. You can’t help but him happily as you eat.

By the time you’re done, you think you might be a little in love.

Maybe you should text Cass and thank her or something. Maybe a gift basket. “Oh. My phone’s dead.”

“Didn’t charge it before y’left last night?” Simon cocks an eyebrow, chewing on his last bite.

You snort. “It was last minute, remember?”

“What if I’d been some sort of psycho? What was your plan?” He grins as he takes your empty plate. If you were a more impulsive woman you may have gone so far as to lick the damn thing.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Not generally, no.”

“Well then, nothing to worry about.” You grin, watching a little too happily as he rinses down the dishes and loads the dishwasher.

Simon just scoffs at you.

You glance at the time above the stove, disappointment settling deep in your chest. “Shit. I should get going.”

“I’ll get you a cab.” Simon offers automatically, reaching for his phone.

You shift side to side, twiddling your thumbs. “Y’know… we never finished the movie…”

Simon cocks and eyebrow. From the pleased smirk on his face you can tell he knows what you’re implying. He still patiently waits for you to say it out loud.

“Would, uh, would you want to exchange numbers? Maybe… meet up… again…?” Your voice is more timid than you’d like. This fear of rejection is new. Being rejected is nothing new for you, so why does it suddenly feel so high stakes with this one guy you barely know?

You don’t miss the way his eyes light up ever so slightly at the question. “I’d love to.”