#and I would like to fall asleep before the sun comes up. not because I'm a vampire tho. i am definitely DEFINITELY not a vampire okay. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wondeurwall · 4 months

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AUTHOR'S NOTE. based on the poll: nsfw that won by a landslide, as expected AKSNDJSKb!!! i'll post the sfw soon. i'm currently sitting on 9k with this fic & i don't think i'm close to being done yet omg 😵‍💫 not sure how many more previews i'll post of it – i'll play by ear. or, if it's something y'all still would like, then i'll be more than happy to do it, but i think they'll be much shorter going forward!! 💕💕

AND good luck to anyone pulling for zayne's banner & for anyone trying the new oracle of stars event... i want to try pulling for rafayel's, at the very least, since they all look related to the myths 😭 for the lore, I'LL BE BROKE!!!

TAGS/WARNINGS: 🔞 mdni, fem!reader, porn with plot because i said so, cunnilingus

He drops to his knees, keeps his arms slung over your legs, trapping you at the edge of the bed. His face is in front of your pussy, the heat of his breath makes you quiver.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” he says.

And, you do exactly that. Rafayel’s gaze has the full moon in there, the light unblinking and brilliant, like a parallel of the sun during the day. It dares you to flinch the longer you look. But, you keep staring, find that it doesn’t hurt and, instead, the light feels familiar.

You hear the waves, tides along the shore and grains of sand being pulled into the water. It happens briefly. Holding your breath, the salt of the sea comes to you like it does in your dreams, a little more vivid each time you fall asleep.

The same images of him fill your vision. Why?

You release the breath, then blink, feeling the heaviness in your chest and the lump in your throat again. It’s a back-and-forth reel of him and Rafayel, different realities converging to a single point in time – and, your lips are trembling. With the heat of Rafayel’s body seeping into you and the recollection of the sea, the moment tastes and sounds like a memory.

No. It’s more than that.

You look at Rafayel, and everything feels less like a dream and more like a memory.

You’re about to call his name, but it’s quickly ripped out of your lips in an airy moan. The flat of his tongue glides up your slit once. Then, he’s doing it again, dipping the tip into your hole and curling between your folds as he moves up to gather your cum. Taking as much as he can, he swallows the taste of you, eyes fluttering closed as he savors it.

It’s the way he does that – makes you believe this isn’t the first time, like he isn’t a stranger to this side of you. So, you’re drifting back into your head (only barely now, because the pleasure is intense, hot and needy) and it’s as if pieces of a puzzle come together in the span of a millisecond and you’re lucid enough to arrive to what seems like an impossible reason: it’s not the first.

You can’t shake off this feeling.

Your pupils dilate, oxygen completely dried from your lungs when you see the pleasure on his face. To you, Rafayel is reliving something he’s missed. Something that’s been denied from him for so, so long and he’s finally grasped onto it, and he looks like he’s found the secret to walking on air.

The ache in your chest is overwhelmed by the ache in your pussy. You whine, the glow in his eyes too dizzying. It does nothing more than guide you closer to hysteria. Your hips jerk forward, begging.

Blood rushes through his cock, straining beneath his pants as a deep rumble comes from within his chest. He’s diving back into your cunt for more before you can catch your breath.

You lie there, unable to close your legs. His arms keep them bent and tucked securely between his biceps and forearms, the strength of him nothing you can even attempt to win against. It comes to you as no surprise – he’s not human after all. Your mouth parts, a light sheen of saliva over your lips. Shallow, quick breaths keep you grounded as you watch through glassy eyes how Rafayel devours your pussy like a starved man.

He pulls back slightly, staring – he hones in on your little bud. You hold your breath when he presses a kiss to your clit, slow and gentle, before he traps it between his lips and sucks, humming as he does.

“Raf – Rafayel,” you gasp, the vibrations coupled with his sucking makes your thighs vibrate, has you seeing tiny white stars. He sucks your clit harder, and your voice gets caught at the edge of your throat.

There’s a pause before you’re moaning like a broken record.

You force your hands to mask your face, rallying enough strength to quiet down because you’re falling, losing yourself so fast, and you have no idea how to wrap your head around the pleasure that’s already building back up.

There’s a disapproving click from the man between your legs.

“Stop,” he says, voice deepening to a near growl. It surprises you – this tone, along with that look in his eyes, half-lidded, clouded with desire, like a predator ready to pounce at its prey – and you feel a greater level of ecstasy being injected into you and it knocks against the sensitive, heavy knot in your stomach.

His demand is never quite like this. It feels… good.

Rafayel loosens the hold on one of your legs to snatch your hands away from your face, “I need to hear you, baby, or I’ll stop.”

Breath bated, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly dazed by the moonlight that hangs over his head just like it does in his eyes.

Lovestruck. Only a second passes before you realize how far you’ve fallen, how desperate you are to see more of this version because there’s no use in denying that you’re among the reasons – if not the reason – he’ll take charge. It’s a stark contrast to the light-hearted and comical side he usually shows. There’s a certain attractiveness to it, the willingness inside of him to take care of you with this authority.

He asks, “Won’t you be a good girl and listen to me?”

God, you’re so wet right now.

You forget how to breathe, feeling like you’ve evolved in a bottomless nothing. His grip on your hands is firm, yet not so much that it shackles you. He’s still gentle. Nodding your head is all you can manage. He finds it cute. Rafayel brushes his mouth over your palm and around your hand to the first knuckle. He smiles.

And, you melt. Of course, you do. Craving to be good for him, to be the good girl like he says you can be – that you are – you clutch onto the bed sheets instead, let your mouth babble this time.

When he’s sure you won’t do it again, he goes back to your clit, giving the attention it deserves as he keeps his eyes on you. He plants a kiss to your throbbing bud again. And again. And then again. It gets stickier there, messy with your cum and arousal and his saliva; stretchy, gooey strings that reconnect his lips to your pussy.

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace smut #rafayel smut #love and deepspace #rafayel x you #l&ds smut #lads smut #l&ds x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace x you #WONDEURWALL ೃ⁀➷ WRITINGS #TY TY TY!!#tysm for all the notes on my other previews!!#i really wasn't expecting much #i appreciate it!! MWAH💋💕

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cheriladycl01 · 1 month

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I’d rather take my Whiskey neat - Lando Norris x Whiskey! Reader

Plot: Reader thinks she’s not good for gentle Lando Norris who has a smile bright as the morning and is soft as the rain…

Credit to micksradio

It can't be said I'm an early bird It's ten o'clock before I say a word Baby, I can never tell How do you sleep so well?

You never woke up early, you went to bed never earlier than 2am and were never up before 10am. It was a habit you'd got from university and it carried over into post graduation.

For Lando, he never found it an issue. In his mind you would have the bulk of the day together and everything he needed to do for racing, like his work out of time on the sim he could do when you were sleeping. Sometimes he liked to treat himself and have a lay in with you but for the most part Lando was an early riser.

Some mornings he really just loved watching you sleep... pushing your hair back a little before placing a kiss on your cheek and leaving for his morning run round Monaco.

You on the other hand hated it, but you couldn't help it, going to bed late was just part of your lifestyle now but guilt ate away at you, feeling as though Lando deserved someone better, someone who could cater to him better than you.

Despite you coming to bed, hours later than him he always felt most content when you were there with him, even if he couldn't cuddle into you because you were on your phone, or writing on your laptop he just liked the smell and feeling of your presence on the room.

You keep telling me to live right To go to bed before the daylight But then you wake up for the sunrise You know you don't gotta pretend, baby, now and then

"Come on baby, getting up early isn't bad, it's so good for your mental and physical health and honestly i don't think you'll have these thoughts..." he's chuckle at you, sending you into yet another self-hatred spiral that makes you reconsider everything.

"Baby, you just need to fall asleep earlier, sometimes your still up when i wake up!" he chuckles at you and you'd frown, looking down again. You knew that some nights, on the bad ones that you'd be up until the sunrise, and hadn't yet slept, whereas Lando would be waking up, the golden rays across his gorgeous body.

Don't you just wanna wake up, dark as a lake? Smelling like a bonfire, lost in a haze? If you're drunk on life, babe, I think it's great But while in this world

You were salt, he was sugar. He was the sun and you were the moon and sometimes you worked together beautifully like sweet and salted popcorn, or an eclipse but other times you were at these crossroads that made no sense.

You were an introvert, and Lando could be an introvert too, but that didn't mean he didn't like to go out and party, and ... of course that was great for him and you never stopped him but sometimes when he forced you to come out with him, it felt like you were in a completely different world. All of his friends were ... well they were friends with Lando and while having their own personalities, they werent the opposite to him.

Lando seemed so happy and content with his life, especially when out with friends, maybe it was because it was the only time you could stare and not be caught because there was so much present in bars and clubs he found himself, and you never saw the adoring looks he reserved for you at home when you were both wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa in matching pyjamas.

I think I'll take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me You're too sweet for me

One of the first moments when you realised a start difference between yourself and Lando was when you first went out for drinks win London with him and a few other drivers and their girlfriends.

"And the lady ..." the bartender asks with a smirk after he'd taken Lando's order of just a coke to start off with. Despite having only been together for a month, Lando was pretty protective of your guys relationship and his arm had come around you as the bartender waited.

"Just your house whiskey please, neat" you'd asked and all of his friends stopped their conversations to look round at you. Even the bartender seemed shocked.

"What?" you asked them all wondering if you'd said something offensive or rude.

"Nothing, don't even know how you and this Muppet are together, total opposites" Carlos had laughed before turning back to Rebbeca to continue their conversation.

"Whiskey, Neat? Tough Drink" Max had said before reaching out to hand Kelly her drink.

You'd been confused but that was what had started your thoughts.

Lando Norris, was far too sweet for your ... taste!

But that was according to everyone else. Even though you were the same age as Lando, because of how you spoke and who you'd surrounded yourself with in your earlier life people thought you were already pretty mature, but placing you next to Lando made him look like a kid in a candy store and you as his mother.

Lando Norris was everything you wished you were. Bright, happy, silly, kind ... and some says you felt like you were just Dark, Dispersed, Strict and Bitter.

And you'd convinced yourself you were sucking the life out of Lando Norris.

I aim low, I aim true and the ground's where I go I work late where I'm free from the phone And the job gets done But you worry some, I know

"Come on for once cant we do something spontaneous ... and I don't know out of your comfort zone, like ... not your job" he sighed one day.

He was a little ratty from the complicated previous race weekend that you'd had to miss due to work. And then you'd been working since he'd come back... into the late of the night. But you had deadlines to meet so it wasn't like you really had a choice. People were expecting stuff from you and you weren't going to not deliver.

"Baby, you know i cant. Next week once this is due in!" you'd sighed looking over at him for a split second before looking back at your laptop.

He left, going up to bed ... sad you hadn't come up with him again.

But who wants to live forever, babe? You treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate The rest of you like you're the TSA I wish that I could go along, babe, don't get me wrong

The conversation you were about to have with Lando you knew would be the hardest one you ever had.

He was so perfect, and pure and you could see you were slolwy starting to taint that. He'd started to sacrifice his sleep schedule to stay up late with you. He wouldn't hang out with his friends as much as he used to and you hated he was changing himself for you.

It didn't feel like you were with Lando Norris anymore. And that's why you got with him in the first place.

And god you loved him for those attributes.

You know, you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day

He was bright, like a morning. Sometimes if it was around 4 or 5am and you'd just finished up with your work you'd purposely wait until the sun started to shine through the blinds just to see his back light up golden and his face smushed against the pillow his soft lips in a pout.

But you ... you were cold like a December Morning, when you would refuse to get out from under the covers and when you did slippers were a must because the cold wooden floors weren't a polite awakening.

He was soft, like a light drizzle along a pagoda where you could sit and listen to the water hit the ground for hours.

And you were a rain-storm, so harsh that when you went out in it the water would sting as it hit you.

He was pretty, so fucking pretty it hurt when you looked at him, pretty as a vine winding up the side of a castle that how flowers spurting from it.

You were the gnarly kind, with thorns that wrapped around and antient tree that looked like it was strangling the air from it.

Lando most of all was sweet, sweet like a grape when you bite into it and it has the crisp outer layer before the sweet juices explode in your mouth.

But you were like a crushed grape being made into fine wine, maybe a dry like a Cabernet Sauvignon.

And you would wait for him, maybe when he was a little older, more mature and maybe it was you who was destined to taint him and turn him into that bitter old man who had experienced the world as you had seen it.

But ... now wasn't the right time.

You would always take your Whiskey neat.

And Lando ...

Well.

He was far too sweet.

Taglist:

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leclerc-hs · 6 months

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fille stupide pt. 3 - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader / max verstappen x fem!reader Summary: in which you now kind of know French and a not so stranger is still here Warnings: smut, oral (f-receiving), angstyyyy (?), cheating (again, i'm sorry), 18+!, not proofread!!, bad French (correct me please!!), bad Dutch (correct me please!!) Word Count: 1985 Author's Note: ok so I think we'll end fille stupide here 🤭 I absolutely loved writing this (if you couldn't tell by how fast i was able to write it lmaooo). I honestly WOULD NOT mind writing more scenarios for them in the future. Like if I ever write mean dom charles, my mind will automatically come back to them. please don't forget to leave feedback! love y'all french edited by @shewantsvengeance!!! dutch edited by @deanlovescassie!!!

PART 1 PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

STARTLED BY A loud bang in the kitchen, you jolt awake. The bright sun streaming through your windows blinds you as you try to make sense of the abrupt awakening and your surroundings. You were no longer naked; a large plain white t-shirt enveloped your body. A t-shirt you don’t remember even putting on or falling asleep in. A t-shirt, that’s not even yours.

Caution gripped you as you inched towards the kitchen, moving slowly down the hall. The muffled sounds persisted, their meaning elusive, while the clattering of cabinets continued. As you finally reached the corner of the hallway, you were met with the sight of a partially naked Charles in the kitchen, an array of food on the stove top cooked. The aroma of bacon and eggs wafted through the kitchen, prompting your stomach to audibly grumble in response. You leaned against the countertop across from him, just watching the muscles of his back flex with each deliberate movement. He stayed?

You let out a breath of air in relief at the sight of him. Not just because he was there and stayed, but because it wasn’t somebody breaking in.

He didn’t even turn around before saying, “Où ranges-tu tes assiettes?” Where do you keep your plates? “Oh, I found them!” He didn’t have to turn around to sense your presence; all his senses seemed attuned to your proximity. Your body called to him, like it demanded his attention. As if your cells were able to alert his own, screaming for them to merge with yours.

You felt a swirl of need form in your stomach at the sight of your scratch marks on his back. As if he was marked for your territory only. You also felt a surge of panic form in your throat as the memories of last night came flooding back.

Tell me who your body belongs to.

Je t’appartiens, Charles.

A sensation of unease churned in your stomach as thoughts of Max’s face crossed your mind. The guilt weighed heavily, and you felt on the verge of nausea for what you had done to him. How was it possible that something so bad felt so good? It was as if Charles held complete control over you, rendering you senseless and devoid of rational thoughts and actions. Tears prick at your eyes as you observe the bruises on the insides of your legs and felt the welts on your neck. Your body looks and feels both used and abused. Nothing about this situation is okay. Last night, you both had been remarkably careless.

The panic began to subside only when Charles turned around and met your gaze. His eyes, an unusually light shade of green, captured your attention. His disheveled hair hinted at just having woken up not too long ago.

“I didn’t know you stayed,” you began, confusion laced in your voice. “I heard the door shut last night.”

“Fille stupide,” Stupid girl. A smile crept on his face, carrying a mocking undertone that seemed directed at you. “I went to store to get you a pill last night. Je suis revenu.” I came back.

You despised how profoundly his words impacted you, how his return stirred a need for you to rationalize both your actions and his, even when there was no justification for what had transpired. Anxious, your fingers fidgeted with the end of the T-shirt that rested at the middle of your thighs. He advanced towards you, trapping you between him and the counter – a familiar position whenever you find yourself in his presence. His hands find their way to your face, their size enough to envelope majority of it. His fingers sprawl on your jawline, and his thumbs rest on your cheekbones as he looks at you. Really looks at you. Like he’s memorizing every inch of your face. Like you’re a textbook and he has a test to study for.

“Tu es tellement belle,” You’re so beautiful. Despite his sweet words, a sinister gleam in his eyes followed the contours of your body, his hands firmly gripping your hips as he pressed himself to you, “I meant what I said last night.”

Mine, you’re fucking mine.

The ache in between your legs was growing with each passing second. He was too close, his smell and warmth surrounding you, creating a sense of intoxication. You felt the need to press your thighs together, but Charles stood between them, smirking down at you like he knew.

Words fail you as you gaze up at him, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He stands there patiently, waiting as you study the furrow of his eyebrow. He stands there patiently, waiting as your eyes delve into his, memorizing every shade of color within them. He stands there patiently, waiting as your gaze fixates on his lips.

It was almost as if you didn’t have a choice. Like he was a pre-determined answer to your life. A definition to your word.

“Guess I didn’t give it to you hard enough last night, hm?” It wasn’t until your hands settle on his biceps that he realizes you’ve given him consent. Suddenly, his hands are everywhere. Roaming your body like an unexplored map; squeezing your waist, pinching your nipples, squeezing your butt. He just can’t get enough of you. “Need me to take the ache away?”

A moan escapes your lips as you yield, unable to resist him. Your body, seemingly under his command, surrenders to its desires.

His tongue presses against yours, never losing contact. He quickly flips the both of you around, pushing you until your back met the countertop of the island. With determination, he lifts you onto it, shoving anything that finds solace there, to the floor. His hands push you down, so you now lay sprawled on the counter in the center of the kitchen. You replacing the breakfast Charles had made.

“Mon dieu,” My God. He growls at the sight of your legs spread and bare for him. “Je pourrais mourir heureux.” I could die happy. You have no idea what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. Especially when his tongue met your clit, licking you as if you were the last meal on Earth and he was starving.

His two fingers slid into your heated core, curling them to brush your g-spot with every stroke. “Tellement bon,” So fucking good. He’s moaning into your pussy, sending you into oblivion.

“Putain de salope.” Fucking dirty slut. He manages to mumble in between your legs, the vibration of his words pushing you closer to the edge.

Around his fingers, you clench. You revel in the feeling of him in you, no matter what or how it’s done. Your fingers clench in his hair, it’s longer than the first time you met, tugging to anchor yourself. His hands on you are equivalent to an out of body experience. You could never tire of it.

“You like that?” Yes! You wanted to yell. You more than liked it. You loved it.

It wasn’t until his other hand, the one not inside of you, groped one of your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, that you went flying over the edge, relishing in the waves of pleasure as he continues to thrust his fingers in you – coaxing you through the orgasm.

His mouth is hot on you, swallowing anything you’ll give him. Your legs shake, his mouth on you becoming too much as you squirm until he stops and looks at you, his lips glossy and coated.

“Tellement foutrement doux,” So fucking sweet. He murmured as he pulled you up, holding you in an upright position to look at him. You still don’t know what he’s saying, but you didn’t care. Your ears were ringing as you came down from your high, feeling limp against the hands of Charles.

You shut your eyes as you began to feel the panic surge. You gave in, again. He peppered small kisses to your neck, almost too softly, a stark contrast from how he treats you in the midst of sex. He was soft with you now -- tender. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to stop. As if sensing your panic, Charles tips your chin to look at him.

“Cherie, you are made for me.” You feel the panic claw at your throat, constricting you, and the tears begin to spill from your eyes. “Don’t you see?”

You did see it. You could see it clear as day. After all, there wasn’t a day that he wasn’t on your mind since the first encounter. You don’t understand what’s happening to you. How could you betray Max like this? He didn’t deserve it, and you didn’t deserve him. It feels like there’s no choice when it comes to Charles. It’s as if your body responds instantly to his mere gaze. He’s the batteries, and you’re the remote control. Completely useless without its batteries.

You knew you had to tell Max. You couldn’t bear to hurt him any further. You observed Charles begin to furrow his eyebrows in frustration as he sensed you withdrawing from him. The sight pained him, and it hurt to witness.

“I need to tell Max,” You started, but were quickly cut off by a voice.

“Tell Max what?”

You felt your heart stop and face flush red, as none other than Max stood just a few feet away in the entry way of your home, holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a spare key to your apartment in the other. Time seemed to slow down as you observed Max’s eyes darting between the proximity of you and Charles. There you were, perched on the counter, with Charles standing between your legs. Your cheeks flushed red as you sat with nothing but Charles t-shirt on your body. The kitchen island was wiped clean, everything scattered on the floor. The air hung heavy with an unspoken tension.

He didn’t even speak. He simply dropped the flowers and spare key on the entry way table and turned around, heading for the door. You shoved Charles out of the way, running towards the door. Running towards Max.

“Please, I can explain,” you were shouting. Completely panicked. But really, there was nothing to explain. It was clear as day, all cards laid out on the table in front of Max’s eyes.

“You don’t need to explain.” He scoffed, his jaw clenched in anger, as his eyes bounced from you, standing in front of him, to Charles, who remained planted in the kitchen. “Ik ben er klaar mee.” I’m done. He spoke in his native tongue, knowing you understood.

“Ik walg van je.” You disgust me. His words were sharp, stabbing you where it hurt most. He couldn’t even look you in the eye as he stepped out of the apartment as fast as he could.

You convince yourself that something has to be wrong with you. You were so mad that you did this. So mad that you hurt Max. But still, despite it all, everything with Charles feels so right.

Tears spilled hotly from your eyes, falling to the floor as you sobbed into your hands. Charles hurried over, lifting you to your feet and cradling you in his arms. Swiftly, he carried you to your bed, gently placing you on the covers. Pulling you into his chest, he held you tightly, providing comfort and solace.

“Je te protégerai.” I’ll keep you safe. Charles mutters into the nape of your neck, rubbing your back soothingly as you cry into him. “Tu es faite pour moi.” You’re meant for me.

You cried for what felt like hours. Charles only continued to whisper sweet nothings to you as he held you. You cried until you were limp with exhaustion, eyes closing, surrounded in the warmth of Charles. You didn’t deserve it.

“I will be here when you wake up, Cherie.” ----------- sorry max, you need to lose something 🤭

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wonderlandwalker · 5 months

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Living Nightmares | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Finnick wakes up to find you slipping away from him. As he tries to get help, he loses track of you, only to find you in the hands of the careers. The situation seems to get worse before he finally thinks he's at peace, but you're there to remind him to keep going.

Content Warnings/Tags: angst, a whole lot of it, fluff at the end though I'm not a monster, mentions of blood, hypothermia, violence

Word Count: 3.4k

A/n: I've been obsessing over our boy Finnick so here's a fic full of angst, because apparently that's the only thing my brain can think of. Dividers by @chilumitos

This wasn’t exactly where they had thought they’d be at the moment. It all started during the second day in the arena, they had the allies, they had the supplies, and they thought they had the advantage, but worry took over as they started losing sight of each other in a chase, and they tried to find the others, only to end up in a new part of the arena. It was dark, cold, and they had lost their supplies, and there was no food or water source nearby.

Neither of them was really to blame. It had been a long day, and the surroundings didn't inspire much hope. So, both of them had fallen asleep on some of the leaves that covered the ground. The cold air was still blowing around them.

But at least he wasn't alone, two sets of minds were better than one, at least he still had you.

The rising sun urged him to open his eyes, and he stretched out his arms, which had become stiff from the cold. It was only when he sat up and ran his hand through the hair that had fallen in your face that he noticed how cold you were. He quickly got up from behind you, pulling you into his lap, tilting your head up a little. Your skin was almost as white as snow, and your lips were starting to turn blue. The colour that once held so many fond memories of the ocean and the sky, now being replaced by fear and panic. He shook you lightly, trying to wake up as if you were just sleeping deeply. When you didn't react, he called out for you, his voice laced with concern.

“Y/n? Come on love, wake up.” But the only movement that came from you was your arm falling from where it was, the harsh thud to the ground reinforcing his fears.

“No, no come on. This isn't happening, wake up” Finnick had thought about this happening, how could he not when it was the basis for most of his nightmares? But he always woke up from those to find you resting in his arms, your soft breathing comforting him back to sleep. This time he didn't wake up, and he didn't hear your breathing to soothe him. He checked your pulse for a heartbeat, but all he could feel was his own heart racing in his chest. He looked around him as if there would be someone there to help, but you were alone.

He started CPR to try and quicken up your pulse, to get you to breathe again, and while he knew you probably couldn't hear him, he had to try.

“Do you remember when you came back from your first games, I really thought that had been the scariest moment of my life. When I survived my own, at least I knew you were alright at home. When you came back, I thought it was over, I wanted to see the positive side, but you seemed so weak, and having watched you, I knew how bad of a state you were in. It tore me apart to have to see it and not be able to do anything." His voice cracks a little, his head starting to swim with more thoughts.

"I won’t do this without you. You can't leave me now, not like this." He pushes a little harder on your chest while doing compression. He's sure if he does so anymore, he will crack one of your ribs.

"I imagined us getting married. I imagined proposing to you by the lake, that little spot you showed me, I know how happy you were in the middle of the field of dandelions. Every worry seemed to slip away from you, like a little hideaway from the horrors of the world. That's how you make me feel every time I'm with you. It's like there is no one in the whole world except us. And I know how cliche that sounds, I know you never liked cliches, but it's true, you are my world, and there is nothing I wouldn't do for you.”

Right as he was about to pour out more of his heart to you, he heard a noise coming from the distance. The steps were too heavy to be coming from a small animal, but his instincts also told him that whoever it was, they weren't there to help.

He knew he had two options. try and fight off whatever was coming while carrying the love of his life with him. Or keep you hidden, try and fight while distracting them away from you and coming back when the coast was clear. He tried his best to hide you underneath a blanket of leaves, making you disappear into the surroundings, he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, scared to get too close and feel how cold your skin still was. He heard the footsteps come closer.

“Just hold on a little longer darling, I’ll be back before you know it.”

And so he turned around, grabbing his trident a little harder than normal, and came face to face with one of the careers. Finnick's muscles were still sore from the night, but he was ready to run. He had to get away from here before the tribute started to wonder if he had been alone.

He ran towards a clearing, making the tribute follow behind him. He ran to a split in the path, which gave him two options, left or right. He heard rustling coming not far behind him, and his instincts told him to go right, so he did. He ran for a while until he reached a dead end, the line of trees becoming so dense he couldn't get through anymore. The tribute was still on his heels, and Finnick had to think fast again. He saw a body of water nearby and decided that diving in, despite the creatures that might be in it, and the chilling temperature it must be, would be better than certain death. He knew he would be able to outswim the career, it luckily being one of his strengths. He started to run towards it, and when he got to the edge, he jumped like his life depended on it, but it still wasn't his life he was worried about, it was yours.

Once he got to the other side of the water, he looked back, and the tribute was nowhere to be seen, probably having decided that the risk of the wild waters wasn't worth it. Finnick wasn't thinking about the relief of escape, all he was thinking about was how much time you had left.

It was by some sort of miracle he found Peeta, Johanna and the others on a small beach nearby, and he practically ran straight into them at full speed without even announcing himself. Once the others had realized it was Finnick, and he was not a danger to them, they calmed down, but the state of despair he was in did alarm them soon after

Peeta looked up at him, he was completely out of breath from how fast he had run.

“Sit down Finnick, try and catch your breath” He told him, while placing an assuring hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no time to sit down, I need to go back.” He spoke with such certainty it startled the others.

“Go back where?”

“ To the clearing, I don't know where it was, but I remember how to get there.”

“Why do you need to go back?” Johanna asked him, seeming confused.

“Because y/n is still there, and she doesn't have long”

The others didn't need to hear more, and started to pack up the things they had with them to follow him.

When they had made it back, Johanna was in front with Finnick, she wouldn't care to admit it out loud, but she was worried about you as well.

“Where?” She asked him

“Over by the cut-down stumps, next to the maple and the oak tree.” Finnick had memorized the entire area in order not to lose track of you, and with Johanna being from the lumber district, he knew this clue would be the most helpful to her.

“There’s no one here” she said, looking back at him frustrated.

“There has to be, she was right there when I left.”

“She might have been, but unless hypothermia comes with the power to turn invisible, she’s gone.”

“Well, she couldn't have left by herself” His mind was reeling with all the possibilities, each one more horrible than the last.

“Well then who took her, there are no drag marks, it wasn't any kind of mutt.”

“I don't know, maybe-” his eyes fell to the mud next to the fallen leaves, the ground here was in permafrost, it couldn't have come from here. When the tribute started chasing him he had already put distance between where you were and where he was going. They must have gone back after he went into the water to try and see if he had any supplies, and have found you. But your body wasn't here, that was a good thing, that means you must be alive, why else would they have taken you?

“They’re at the swamp”

“How are you so sure?”

“The career, he was alone when he chased me, he has to have set up camp somewhere with the others, it can't be far from here otherwise he wouldn't have carried her.”

“Alright, but we don't even know where that is, the swamp must be massive, they could be anywhere, we can’t just run in without a plan.” Johanna tried to reason, looking over to Finnick, only to realise he was no longer there.

“Where did he go?” Peeta asks her.

“Probably to the swamp, probably without a plan.” She sighed, she was annoyed, but couldn't say she was surprised, she knew he would do anything for you, including laying down his own life.

“How do we find him, we don't even know where the swamp is, y/n and Finnick were the only ones who crossed it.”

“You don't happen to have a map, do you?” Johanna asks, sarcasm heavy as usual.

While the others were trying to figure out where exactly Finnick had run off to, he himself ran into some trouble. He knew it was his fault for going in without a plan or any backup, but he had listened to his heart, not his head. His heart convinced him he had to find you, telling him that if he didn't find you and wake you up, he’d never be able to see your eyes looking back into his. His heart was telling him to go and save you, even though his head was telling him it was probably already too late anyway.

He wasn't paying close attention to his surroundings as he should have been, trying with all his might to find you. They had found him when he was distracted and from that moment on they kept trying to break him. He was tied with his back against a tree, most of his body covered in blood and a little dizzy from the loss of it.

“It’s very easy to figure out what makes you tick Odair” the district one tribute spoke to him. He couldn't see very far ahead of him, and he couldn't see you anywhere.

“What’s that supposed to mean” He was confused and angry. Confused about what they meant, why they hadn't killed him. Angry they kept him from finding you, from holding you.

“Don’t worry, you'll find out soon enough.”

And as if it was planned, right after the career had spoken, a loud, soul-cracking scream echoed around him. Finnick immediately recognized it, how could he ever forget? It couldn't be real, it had to be a trick, jabber-jays, something. But there wasn't a flock of birds around, and nothing would be able to replicate such a crushing sound. He tried closing his eyes, but when he did his imagination ran wild with images and scenarios, and it only made it worse. The only thing he could do to calm down was tell himself it wasn't real, even if he didn't believe it, repeating it like a mantra over and over.

“It isn't real, it isn't real, it isn't real.” It was nothing more than a whisper and most probably only a mumble of incoherent words.

“Oh but that's the best part Odair, it is real, and it's not gonna stop until you give us what we want. to know.”

“You’re lying” He spit out, barely able to say the next words without falling apart completely “I saw her die.” A single tear makes its way down his face as he tries to keep his composure, cracking now wouldn't do him or you any good.

“Are you willing to take that risk? She’s pretty feisty, I'll give you that, but if you don't crack soon and tell us where your friends are, she's not gonna make it.

He tried ignoring it, trying to listen to his head instead of his heart, but once again the attempt was futile. All he could hear was the screaming, even when he was sure it had actually stopped, the sound still lived in his head. It was hard to say which was worse, the deafening screams, or the silences in between.

He tried to think with his head, tried to think what you would say to him. It would probably be something along the lines of ‘don’t do anything stupid when I'm not there.’

It was far too late for that.

When the career returned, he had a smile on his face that seemed way too happy for the situation they were in.

“She’s strong, that girl of yours, that much is true. The question is for how much longer, everyone has a point of no return, and I have a feeling she’ll cross it soon, But you can make it stop, tell us where your friends are, and it’ll stop.” The tribute had bent down so he was face to face with him, and by the look in his eyes, he now knew for sure this wasn't a bluff.

Finnick didn't know where they were, they wouldn't have stayed at the beach where he found them or at the clearing where the two of you had slept for the night. And maybe it was for the best he didn't know, because right now if he was honest with himself, he would have told them anything he knew if they wanted it. He would do anything to get to hold you again, to feel the warmth of your body against his, to feel your lips pressed against his own. But the careers weren't stupid, he had no reason to believe they would actually let you go, and even if they did, he knew a part of you would never forgive him for what he would have done.

“This is a waste of time.” He screamed, silently hoping you were close enough and conscious enough to hear his voice, hoping it would be enough to tell you not to give up. He pulled at the ropes tying his hands together with all the strength he had left, knowing it would likely not achieve anything, but hoping for it nonetheless.

But it didn't make a difference, your screams didn't stop, and his heartache didn't stop. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours, up until a point where Finnick couldn't tell how much time had passed. It was difficult to keep track of time when you kept blacking out, but it was peaceful in the most morbid way. He didn't sleep, he lost consciousness, so he didn't dream. When he blacked out he had a moment of peace, a moment where he didn't hear your screams echoing around in his head. But he would always wake up and have to face reality again.

He couldn't hear his heartbeat anymore, he couldn't hear his breathing or his thoughts, all he could hear was the screaming and the cries, even though he wasn't sure if they were there or if his mind kept playing tricks on him. He had always feared this, but he didn't think that his worst nightmares would actually come true.

He looked down and saw a puddle of his blood staining the ground and the leaves he was sitting on. The last thing he heard before he blacked out again was shouting coming from the distance.

When he wakes up he can't see much, his eyes heavy and his body tired. But he can feel his cheeks getting wet, it’s a heavy liquid and he guesses it's his blood until he opens his eyes far enough to see you kneeling in front of him, your hands cupping his cheeks to lift his face while you're silently crying, the tears creating a clear path down the grime on your face.

“y/n?” His voice barely reaches a whisper, but you look up into his eyes immediately.

“Finnick, oh god, please wake up we have to get out of here.” Your voice sounds strained, and Finnick isn't sure if it's because of all the screams that must have taken a toll on you, or if the sounds have damaged his ears, he hopes for your sake it's the latter.

“No we don’t” He says with a sense of peace that doesn't match up with the predicament you're in.

“What do you mean?” You ask him, while trying to remove some of the blood stains from his skin, but failing miserably.

“We’re in heaven, aren't we, that's why you're here, I was hoping I would see you.” A sob from your throat almost interrupts his whispering, and he looks up to you again.

“Why are you covered in so much blood” He reaches out to touch your face ever so gently, as if he's scared you're only a figment of his imagination, and you could disappear anytime.

“It’s nothing, I’m alright, I’m more worried about you, you look like you could open your very own blood bank with how much you’re losing.” Your voice is shaky, and it matches the tremble of your hands.

“No need to worry about that, You're here to bring me to heaven, we’ll be together again, it’ll all be perfect.”

“Finnick listen to me! I’m not here to take you to heaven, I’m real and I'm right here in front of you and I need you to stay awake!”

Only he’s not responding to you anymore, his eyes closed again.

“Goddamnit”

You tried to lift him off the ground, but almost fell over once you got him upright. You weren't in your strongest state, and Finnick not being in any conscious state wasn't helping, his whole body weight leaning on you. You put your arm around his shoulder and put the other around his middle, trying to keep him standing so you could move. But with your hands busy trying to keep Finnick upright, you had no way to defend yourself. All the commotion must have alerted other tributes, but you didn't know how many there were to begin with, or who even started the disturbance that allowed you to break free. You thanked whoever was listening that the two of you made it out of the swamp without running into further trouble, and entered an opening of trees that finally allowed bright sunlight to touch upon your skin. You can hear footsteps close by, and prepare for the worst.

“We need to get the two of you back to the others” A familiar voice enters your ears, and you didn't know you could ever be so grateful to find Beetee.

You make your way to a lake not far away. When you get there, you refuse to leave Finnick’s side when Beetee had insisted you needed tending to as well. It was like an unspoken rule. Whenever one of you was hurt, the other didn't leave their side until you were sure they were going to be okay. But you weren't sure, and you weren't leaving him. So you lay down next to him, and the others knew it was useless to try and separate you.

After some time had passed, Finnick started to softly grunt and woke you up with him. Your face contorted in a mix of anger and pain. You leapt up into his arms. It hurt him a little with how tight you were holding him, but he didn't dare let go. Still a little afraid it wasn't real. But he could feel your breathing against his neck, hear you crying in his ear, and hear your heart beating in your chest, in sync with his, you were here, and you were okay.

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starrystevie · 6 months

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18+ | cw: somno, smut | crossposted on twitter

eddie's loud, he can't help it. in everything he does, he's big & dramatic & commands the attention of the room. it's one of the reasons steve falls for him in the first place. when they're fucking in a tiny trailer with thin walls however it becomes a problem.

it only takes getting caught once with wayne's all knowing stare the next day when steve comes to pick eddie up for a date. he snuck out the window that morning to avoid being found but it turns out eddie's loud mouth did the work for them the night before.

if anything, steve's proud that he can fuck eddie enough that he can't keep his mouth shut. turn his brain and limbs to mush as he rattles out curse after curse, praise after praise. proud that he can get eddie so thoroughly fucked that his name is echoing off the walls.

at first it was cute, bending down to smother eddie's mouth with a kiss to swallow yet another too loud moan. at first they'd giggle when eddie would shout steve's name as he hit his favorite spot that set his nerves on fire. at first steve would whisper filth in his ear hoping he'd take the hint and quiet down to his level, slowing his hips to roll in an agonizing pace. but nothing worked. steve would still pound into him and eddie would still yell like they had the world all to themselves.

"you should just fuck me when i'm passed out," eddie moaned as they took advantage of wayne's overnight shift. "it'll -fuck- it'll be like the best wet dream i could ever have."

steve's hips stuttered as he thought about it, and then picked up even harder when he pictured it. "yeah? want me to keep you quiet, baby?"

it didn't take long for them to finish, took even less time to start round two after they got hard again while planning out the details. turns out they both are a little too into the idea of steve taking him apart when he's asleep.

the first time, eddie wakes up halfway through while steve is blowing him and is too excited to go back to sleep so he resorts to biting into a pillow to keep quiet. the second time, steve's too afraid of eddie waking up again so he settles with fucking into his own fist and then coming all over his bare ass. eddie wakes up while the sun rises to the sheets stuck to him with his cock hard and red which gets them both going again.

they finally hit the sweet spot after a while of trial and error.

they fall asleep curled around each other like they always do, only this time eddie's ass has been thoroughly stretched and steve falls asleep with his half hard cock nestled between his cheeks. when steve inevitably wakes up, skin sweaty where the two are pressed together, the fun can begin.

it doesn't take too long for him to get hard again, it doesn't take too long for him to slip his freshly lubed fingers into his ass, it doesn't take too long for him to get his cock fully surrounded by heat as he slides fully into eddie.

eddie snuffles against the pillow and steve freezes, an excited panic thrumming through his veins, until his boyfriend quiets back down with one final small whimper. he rolls his hips slowly, listens to the ambient noise in the trailer for any signs of someone else being awake and gently brings his hand up to cover eddie's mouth. just in case. just like eddie asked for however many times ago.

fucking into eddie when he's pliant is everything steve could have dreamed up. nothing will compare to being able to fuck exactly how they like to, loud and electric and fast and perfect, but this? grinding his hips with his nose pressed into the back of eddie's head, every inch of him on edge as he waits to either get caught or succeed, is a thrill in and of itself.

he comes probably too fast, too turned on by the whole thing. he comes buried deep in eddie, twitching out every last drop, keeping his hips pressed close. he comes with his mouth wide open on eddie's neck, teeth skimming over sensitive skin, whispering out curses that even the best ears couldn't hear because they're only meant for eddie's.

steve pulls out, sleepy & sated, reaching down to run his fingers through the mess of come & lube that follows. eddie whimpers something quiet & sweet so steve gives him his fingers against his lips like a reward for being good. for being quiet. for trusting steve like he does.

eddie's sore when he wakes up in the morning. he grimaces against the pull in his ass as he goes to stand until he realizes what happens. reaches between his legs to feel how tender his hole his. looks on the sheets and sees where he came against them in his sleep.

he wakes steve up with his mouth. considers it a much deserved payback until he's squirming against the mattress & whines out eddie's name.

"you fucked me?" eddie asks as he pops off with a grin. it's not a question that needs to be answered nor is the next one. "did it work?"

steve groans as he tangles his fingers in eddie's hair, bringing his mouth back where he wants it. mutters out a few curse words as eddie trails his fingers over his balls. "what do you think?"

"i think you need to shut up before i'm the one who has to keep you quiet now."

they have wayne's schedule memorized and eddie uses his standard early saturday morning shift that day as an excuse to make steve get as loud as he can, his name echoing off the walls this time around, driving him crazy with his lips and tongue and fingers.

little do they know that wayne now has his fingers plugging his ears with a grimace, wishing he hadn't swapped shifts with gary for the day, contemplating going in to work anyway to escape his loud ass nephew and his loud ass boyfriend.

#uhhhh hi hello tumblr i have other things to be doing but this thought has plagued me all morning #eddie being a fucking loudmouth even (or especially) while he's getting railed is my roman empire #my writing #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie smut

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hotmencore · 1 year

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“𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬” 𝐃𝐑𝟑

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x girlfriend!reader (she/her)

Summary: In which Daniel learns the true extent of his girlfriends hatred towards mornings.

Warnings: language, but other than that it is pure fluff

Word count: 700+

A/N: Sunshine x grumpy is one of my favourite tropes so i had to make a fic for it, and no one is more symbolic of the sun than Daniel Ricciardo. This will probably get edited because i don't really like it.

Likes and reblogs are much appreciated! Copying and reposts are not! My fics are only posted on tumblr, under this account, @hotmencore

Everyone knows that Daniel is a pure ray of sunlight. He is the joy of the grid, and the life of the party around family and friends. Everyone also knows that his girlfriend is all of those things too. You both match each other perfectly, your contagious smiles, your quick witted humours, everything! Well, apart from one thing.

Mornings.

Daniel is always in a good mood, including at 8.00am on a Saturday, but you on the other hand, are in a good mood about 98% of the time. And that 2%, includes 8.00am on a Saturday.

Daniel woke up at that time today, and wanted to get up on time to start his day. But you, did not. And Daniel knew that. He has always known that. He always will know that. But today, he decided that he would try his luck with getting you up at the same time as him, as he would for once like to actually start his day off with his girlfriend. He turned over in bed to face you, your head somewhat shoved into your pillow, face turned away from him, the covers laying over your body delicately.

Daniel decided to try a simple and slick approach, slithering his hand beneath the covers in order to not move them too much, to lay his arm around your middle. You shifted slightly, and Daniel instinctively held his breath. You didn't wake up, so he was able to quietly breathe a sigh of relief, which absentmindedly made him rethink his choices. But he knew he had to commit. He shuffled up towards you, his bare chest now lightly scraping your back.

Now was the time.

Daniel slowly leaned into the crook of your neck, and placed a soft kissed on your bare skin.

"Good morning love" he murmurs.

All he gets in return is a loud inhale, and an even louder groan. You roll away from him in frustration that you had been woken up, your face now shoved even further into your pillow. This does make Daniel chuckle, as he once again laces his arm round your waist, and this time, pulls you flush to him, away from your lovely cool pillow and soft covers. You open your eyes slowly, and do nothing but groggily death stare him.

"Hello little miss grumpy" he tries again with a grin. But before he can even respond, your hand that lay on the outer side of your boyfriend slams down beside you to grab your pillow, and to speedily swing it back past you, aggressively thrashing it down on his face with a thump. Of course this 'violent' throw of a soft pillow didn't do any harm, but Daniel was still taken aback by the new found approach of you pretty much telling him to piss off and let you sleep.

"Fuck off Daniel, its too early" you mumble, although your body still lay wrapped up with his.

"Love its 8, not 4" he replies with a small chuckle, removing your pillow from his face.

"That's still too earlyyy" you groan, causing a real laugh to come from your boyfriend, who was finding this torment of yours quite hysterical.

"Come on, we can get up together and have breakfast at a normal time for once, not at like 11 for a change, Who knows, you might actually like it" he offers, a slight hesitance prominent in his voice.

"You can get up, i'm not" you quickly reply.

"Come on, mornings aren't that bad" Daniel counteracts.

"Fuck mornings" you respond, nuzzling into Daniel further, trying to fall back asleep. Through instinct, your arms go around your boyfriend, now fully cuddling him. Although you were still annoyed that he woke you up way earlier than you would have liked, you couldn't resist the warmth that radiated off of his bare, muscly chest.

Daniel ponders for a second, and finally decides to give up on his attempt, now deciding to do mornings your way, just this once.

"Yeah alright, you win, fuck mornings" he repeats, a small smile playing at his lips as he leans down to place a soft kiss to your forehead.

From beneath Daniel, you smile with pride at your amazing Saturday morning win against him and his early mornings,"Victory is sweet, but sleep is even sweeter, so shut up now so i can go back to it."

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #daniel ricciardo drabble #daniel ricciardo blurb #daniel ricciardo fanfic #dr3 #dr3 x reader #dr3 imagine #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x yn #daniel ricciardo one shot #sunshine x grumpy #tropes

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tranquil-ivy · 2 months

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Imagine pregnancy cares with Leon…🥹🥹

You’re hungry? He’s running to the store at 3:00 AM to make you some spicy noodles with a side of pickles. Your feet are swollen? Put your legs up on his lap and let him massage those feet! The baby won’t stop kicking your ribs? Well they’ll get a stern talking to! >:(

I feel like Leon would definitely not let you do one single thing around this house, hell, you couldn’t even get up to grab a glass of water anymore. He’d carry you around the house like a little princess, setting you down in bed and tucking you in, kissing you goodnight like you were a little kid. Talking to your belly in the middle of the night, telling it random and silly stories, acting like your baby knew what the hell he was talking about.

Don’t even get me started on your bump, he’d looooovvvveeeee that big ol’ belly of yours. When you wore those pretty flowy sundresses because you refused to wear pants during the last month or so of your pregnancy, how those dresses would show your bump (and your melons, wink wink👀) off were definitely the best parts. You were the prettiest thing in the world to him, even more now that you were carrying his child.

If only I could give him that cute domestic life he deserves…

- Anon! 🎀

Oh my God, I love domestic Leon so much... He deserves that typical white picket fence life.

So there's conflicting resources online so I'm just gonna make an assumption here. July-December is when most babies are born. So far the same of a time line we'll say you're due in September.

So it's like the dead ass middle of July. Hot as balls and it's 3am. You want spicy noodles and pickles. (You're usually craving) But when you go to the kitchen they're both gone. You just grab an otter pop from the freezer, and head back to bed. The bed dips under your weight as you sit, adjusting your pillows before you lay back. The window AC is at that perfect angle where it's hitting you enough to make you chilly as you curl up with your snack and blanket.

Leon rolls over in his sleep, putting his arm around you and pulls himself closer to you with a groan. Lifting his head without opening his eyes, you know what he wants. Leaning down you give him a kiss. He sinks back into his pillow, tongue jutting out to wet his lips.

"Why... Do I taste cherry?" He opens his eyes, looking up to see you already drinking the juice from the clear package.

"No noodles? No pickles?" He questions, turning on his back as he takes in a sharp yawn. Rubbing away the sleepy gunk from his eyes.

"We're out." He turns his head, watching you look at the empty wrapper in disappointment. He sits up without a second thought, still groggy as he grabs his wallet off the nightstand giving you another kiss before he stands up. Slinking out the door in his pajamas.

30 minutes he comes back with fresh made spicy beef noodles from your favorite late night Korean dinner and a jar of pickles the size of a baby. An you bet you scarf those things down while he watches you like your his whole world. This goofy smile on his face while you slurp up glass noodles and glance at him.

"Wuh?" You say through chews. He chuckles, shaking his head.

"Nothing babe, just eat your noodles." He moves in getting comfortable. Rubbing your lower back and belly at the same time while talking to the baby until he eventually falls back asleep with his head on your thigh.

SUN DRESSES WITH A BABY BUMP WOULD MAKE THIS MAN GO FERAL! There's this thing about pregnant women that men find attractive because their instinct is to detect fertility and protect. Which is insane as is...

But when it's your own partner? Oh boy.

He thought you were beautiful in sundresses before but now it's just heightened!

It's getting harder to bend and pull things up with an entire human being inside of you so you resort to the old reliable method. Dresses. Everyday.

You wobble out of the bedroom with your flip flops. Dropping them on the floor you slide them on. Ready for a day at the beach together before the baby comes. The dress is a shade of blue, slightly low cut but really showing off the girls with how much you've blown up during pregnancy.

Leon's outside fighting with the chairs trying to get them in the back of the car and fit the cooler at the same time. Already breaking a sweat and they haven't even left the driveway yet. You walk out, watching him fight for his life against these chairs and finally he gets the trunk to shut and he sees you. The first thought that crosses his mind was:

oh shit... She looks that good? Do we have to leave the house?

Followed by: That's mine, she's mine. Carrying my baby inside her... And looks that sexy doing it. Maybe we should have another kid right away after the first one...

His brains going in overdrive before you tell him you're getting in the car. He quickly comes around, helping you buckle yourself in and shuts your door for you.

The entire day it's hard for him to not be constantly touching you. He usually just guides you by a hand on your back but he's got you pulled close, a hand on your thigh, giving you kisses more frequently. Even going for an ass grab or two without caring if anyone is looking.

And you bet your ass the second you two get home you're getting a shower together. Just to make sure you get all the sand off of course (👀)

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x fem reader #🌿 ivy writes #🌿 ivy replies #resident evil x reader #leon s kennedy

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 20 days

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What I Want... | William Killick x fem!reader

summary: Elise is the daughter of an army surgeon who must learn to live with her father's new boarder, Officer William Killick. What begins as a childish crush quickly becomes deep-rooted resentment for the haughty young officer, but one night at dinner when Elise forces the men to listen to what she has to say, that resentment becomes something more once again.

warnings: Smut, misogyny, age-gap (19 & 26), unprotected sex, degrading talk, angst, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi-public.

word count: 5,061k

*edited 5/25/24- switched to 2nd person pronouns.

Say Yes To Heaven- Lana Del Ray 🎶

Mystery- Jesse Jo Stark 🎵

I'm back! Did you miss me? 💋

To start the story, you must imagine a country courtyard, a quaint country home outside of London. The house is small and built on the edge of the city, before the suburbs became a fairy tale destination for starter families. That house is home to a widower and his daughter, recovering from the shock of the Blitz. Even in the English countryside, the war could still be felt like vibrations through the ground. You could feel them too. The daughter of an army doctor, you grew up in a strict household reeking of repressed emotion. Your father was a widower and an emotionally unavailable army doctor, so you followed the typical protocol. You acted out in your teenage years, trying to make up for the hole your mother’s absence left in your home. By eighteen you were your own person, stronger and more independent. You tried to be completely normal, just like everyone else, because you didn’t want to be different. You rode your bike, borrowed books from the library, and painted your nails with red lacquer. You were just a girl, preparing to study away at university, when William Killick joined your household in the summer of ‘46.

He was a boarder and a prestigious one at that. He was a decorated officer, brave, mature…handsome. 26 never looked so good on a man. At the beginning of the summer, William ignored your stares, your darting eyes, and nervous smiles. She was the last thing on his mind and who can blame him? Surviving the war took a toll on the man and manifested physically in his nightmares and tight jaw. William arrived with a few belongings and a typewriter, set on writing about the war. Your father had invited him to stay for the summer, offering whatever assistance he needed to get back onto his feet. William took it cautiously, embarrassed to receive such enormous help from a man who had already saved his life once before. You, the doctor’s daughter, had been mentioned only once before, subtext in a telegram, barely important. After arriving two weeks before, it had become clear that you were to be William’s housemate and awkward neighbor.

William was not good with girls but he was great with women. Anyone below the age of twenty became alien. He didn’t know how to talk to them, so he didn’t. William would watch you from his bedroom window as you lounged in the backyard, dipping your feet into the deep fountain by the garden wall. You tossed and turned on the fountain’s surface, sunning yourself like a lizard. William licked his lips and looked away, turning his attention to the keys of his typewriter.

When you would come inside, your feet still wet from the fountain, you could hear the irritatingly familiar sound of typewriter keys. His fingers struck each tab fiercely, with a precision that sounded like vengeance. You’d hated it at first, fumming in your bedroom with a pillow pressed around your ears, but you found the sound comforting now. At night it reminded you that he was awake, watching, aware. You felt safe and found yourself falling asleep faster. You never told him this, however, you rarely talked to him at all. His stern-looking face and quiet demeanor was off putting and cautionary to a young woman. William had been there for only three weeks and you’d barely said one word to him at all. You watched him more and more, feeling a kernel of desire hardening in your chest. It was a girlish crush, something that entertained you when the long hours of summer bored you.

You couldn’t help, however, to wonder if William ever looked out his window as you swung your shapely legs back and forth on the swing in your backyard. You hoped it would draw him out of his room one day. But your lax attitude and childish behavior still irked the older Officer. Even if his eyes lingered on your freckled shoulders during dinner, you were little more than an annoying child to him. You spoke very little and he suspected it was because of him. Your breakfasts were awkward and spent in silence while the doctor was making house calls. William took his coffee in silence, no longer able to stay awake after just one cup of tea. His nightly nightmares made it impossible to do much sleeping.

One month into William’s stay, you ventured to finally speak to the man. Creeping quietly into the breakfast room and wearing a pretty girl’s play uniform and ribbons in your hair, you pulled his attention away from his newspaper.

“Are you going to the victory parade, Captain?”

Your voice broke the silence in William’s mind. He glanced up and noticed you standing beside your chair, your blush colored hand gripping the back of your chair. Your quiet voice shocked the thoughts from his head.

“Pardon?” He asked as he cleared his throat. The newspaper collapsed over his fists. You blinked nervously and licked your lips.

“Are you going to the victory parade? It’s on the front page,” you pointed to the front page of the newspaper he held between his hands. William tore his eyes from your face and checked the paper, annoyance rising in his throat. He took a moment to read the headline and groaned internally.

“No, I won’t.” He answered evenly and flicked the paper back into place. You disappeared behind the wall of words and bit your lip in embarrassment. He kept his eyes focused on the page, though not reading, while you slipped out of the room. Your sandals clicked obnoxiously as you rushed up the stairs into your room.

Your face burned from embarrassment and anger, so you cupped your hands against your cheeks. You cursed beneath your breath and resisted the urge to scream and kick your feet in the air. Their conversation had lasted for less than a minute and you learned exactly how rude the Officer could be. Were all men of higher rank like that? What gave Officer Killick the right to treat you in that way, so disinterested and unbothered? He was technically your guest! You fummed in the privacy of your bedroom as William chewed his toast calmly and swallowed.

…

William remained frustratingly unbothered as he dressed for dinner, fixing his hair and straightening his dinner jacket. He cleared the dark hair from his forehead and sighed through his nose, his jaw set painfully as if he were suppressing a yawn. His door remained ajar and the movement of you passing in the hallway caught his eyes in the mirror. Your small waist was wrapped in a red romper and your brown mary janes squeaked quietly against the floorboards’ grain. You’d left your hair ribbons behind and your hair fell messily behind your shoulders.

You tried to breathe evenly as you descended the stairs. The sounds of your father emerging from his study for dinner comforted your nervous attitude. You dreaded the arrival of the man upstairs, dreading having to listen politely as the men discussed their days, opinions, thoughts. It made you dislike the man more but it also made your crush that much more unbearable. You picked at the skin on your palms when they met at the dining room table in silence. You listened as the men discussed politics as they usually did, the boredom boring into your temples like screws. You studied the smug profile of the young officer and pinched the skin on your thigh. Call you immature but you wanted to cause trouble, raise a little hell for the man, just enough to make him finally acknowledge your existence.

“Officer Killick told me that he isn’t participating in the victory parade,” you casually announced, cutting your meat and licking the juice from your fork. Her father raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

“Oh?” He asked as he chewed. William looked at the girl, his brows furrowed. What were you doing?

“Ah no,” William cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin.

“It’s a pity,” you interjected, your eyes trained on your plate.

“Why’s that?” William retorted, cautious of your tainted tone.

“The parade is celebrating your victory, our victory. Surly Churchill would want you to be there.”

William swallowed sharply, his blue eyes now trained on you at the table, sitting adjacent to him.

“I owe Mr. Churchill nothing.” His voice was cold, his shoulders stiff, and his eyes narrowed, “and as long as you aren’t in cahoots with the man, I doubt he would ever know I wasn’t there to celebrate such a phony victory.”

“Are you not pleased with the outcome, Officer Killick?” You asked calmly. Your father looked between the two of you with nervous glances.

“That’s an unfair question.”

“How so?”

“We may have won but the loss of human lives in the process barely justifies the minimal victory we claim to have earned.”

“Are you such a pessimist?” You leaned closer and watched as the man lost more of his patience.

“I’m a realist. I know what the war did and I know the effect it will continue to have because of what we did. No victory is worth what I’ve seen.” His eyes betrayed his erratic state. Images of war flashed in his eyes.

He was breathing heavily as your eyes locked over the dinner table. You watched him, your eyes softening at the sight of the man cracking beneath the pressure of your conversation. His hair had been displaced and strands stuck to his perspiring forehead. His adam’s apple bobbled in his throat as he swallowed.

“You still don’t want to celebrate what you’ve accomplished, what we have now because of what you and other men had to do? War is about sacrifices and even sacrifices should be celebrated.” You offered evenly and looked down at your plate shyly. William took a deep breath and sighed, picking up his fork to resume eating.

“I shouldn’t be celebrated. Nothing I did was worth praise.” He said quietly and looked at the doctor. “In fact, doctor, you should know that the man you’ve allowed to stay in your home is just as bad as the men he was forced to slaughter. I’ve done things…” he faltered and sniffed loudly. William stood and dropped his napkin on the table beside his plate. He looked once again at you, his eyes soft once more.

“I’ve done things no young woman should ever have to know about.” His eyes lingered on your face as he spoke and when he was finished he turned and left the room. His footsteps echoed emptily in the dark house as he left out through the back door. The doctor paused before looking at you.

“Y/N,” he sighed, “we’ve all made sacrifices that we’d prefer not to remember. Parades tend to make us remember.” He sipped slowly from his wine glass and cleared his throat.

…

You finished your dinner quickly and excused yourself. When your father was safely removed to his bedroom, you snuck down the stairs in your bare feet, hoping to avoid making any noise that would wake your father. In the cover of warm darkness, William stood beside the fountain, his hands shoved into his pockets. He stared wordlessly into the glimmering water until he heard your approach and whipped his head around. His wide eyes relaxed once he recognized your silhouette and soft voice.

“Sorry, sir,” you whispered into the summer air. William looked back at the fountain and bit his tongue slightly.

“You’re something else, aren’t you?” He muttered.

��Sir?”

“How did your father allow you to grow up into such a brat?” He spun around, his voice harsh with a snarl. The ridge of his nose was crinkled as he spoke. You quivered beneath his tone and bit the inside of your cheek.

“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“Then what was that at dinner? How dare you talk to me like that!” He turned around, his voice dark and angry. You sucked in a breath, watching as his hands rose in the air and froze.

“I was angry and I overreacted,” you whispered weakly. William’s shoulders relaxed slightly in the dark.

“Why?” He asked with a tired sigh and fished around in his pocket for a cigarette.

“We’ve barely had even one conversation since you got here. This morning I was trying to make polite conversation and you were quite rude about it.” You spoke with your hands waving about your body and your breath tight as you searched for words.

“Maybe I don’t like polite conversation,” William grumbled as he struck a match and tried to light his cigarette, “damn it.” He cursed when his hands shook, making it impossible to light his cigarette.

“Maybe you have no manners,” you countered and took the small matchbook from the man. William watched you cautiously as you struck a new match and offered him the flame. William bent over and puffed out smoke until the cigarette’s end was properly lit. He pulled it from his lips and exhaled.

“I stopped caring about manners during the war. In a world where there are so many problems, manners just seem ridiculous to waste my energy on. So, as to my point, I don’t like making polite conversation. If I wanted to talk to you about something, I would.”

“Well why haven’t you?” You crossed your arms across your chest and dug your toe into the soft bed of the lawn, avoiding his eyes like a shy schoolgirl.

“Sometimes I don’t have anything to say,” William shrugged.

“To women you mean,” you finished for him and his eyes shot back to your’s. He looked you up and down before he shook his head with a smirk you’d never seen before.

“I don’t know if I would call you that. You’re a little young.”

“And what? Does that make you an old man?” You smiled and glanced back at the house behind you, most of the windows devoid of light.

“In some sense, yes,” William looked down at his cigarette and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Well, I’m not a little girl, Officer Killick.” You smiled, “and I’m certainly not a brat.”

“We’ll see about that,” William smiled back and twirled his cigarette between his fingers. As he looked down at the cigarette in his hand, a pair of soft lips kissed him quickly. You held his top lip carefully in your mouth before stepping back, watching his eyes for a reaction. William swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but no words came. You stared at each other in the darkness until William kissed you again, bending his shoulders down to meet your lips. It had been forever since he had kissed a woman and the rush of your breath fanning against his lips made him shiver. You wrapped your arms briefly around his shoulders and rose to your tiptoes. You held their lips still against one another for a moment and William felt himself sigh into you. Your smaller body radiated warmth into his, making him aware of the sweat collecting at the small of his back. With his free hand, William snaked his hand up your neck to your hair and clasped it in his hand. You smelled so nice and strands of your silky hair slipped from his fingers.

“Y/N…” he whispered as he broke their kiss. Your bright eyes fluttered open and looked up at him. Suddenly, the scene became all too real to him. William took a step back, dropping his hand from your hair. He dragged a hand through his own hair and furrowed his brow. The dim light from the dining room leaked into the yard, casting a jaundice light on the young woman before him. From your perspective, the officer’s form was backlit, illuminating the width of his shoulders and the curve of his neck as he tilted his head to the side. He sighed heavily and took a long drag of his cigarette. Smoke filtered from his nose as he dropped the cigarette and stubbed it out with his heel.

“Do you always get what you want?” He said calmly. You caught your breath, the sound of the fountain behind you becoming deafening. His blue eyes glimmered like dying stars in the dark. Your chest rose and fell as time felt as if it was standing still. That moment before a bomb exploded, before the ground gave out and the windows shattered around you. His hand waited at his side, flexing and relaxing as he watched you.

“Yes,” you whispered finally. William drew in a shaky breath and nodded softly, risking a step towards you.

“Then…” he started “who am I to resist you now?” He asked seriously, getting closer. Your eyes followed his hand as it found your hip in the dark.

“But Y/N…” he started again and looked you up and down, “someone ought to tell you no.” He smirked haughtily and tilted your head back by your chin. He leaned his mouth in beside your ear and growled, “no one likes a fucking brat.”

His words tickled the peach fuzz down your neck and you shivered, frightened by the tone of his deep voice. William dropped his hand from your waist and turned away. You watched his back as he walked away from you in the dark, towards the light of the house. Not ready to give up yet, you rushed to him and grabbed his forearm, urging him to stop.

“Killick,” you whispered in a small voice. He looked over his shoulder at you, your red romper creased from dinner. He could just make out the light colored hair on your upper thighs in the offcast-light. Something in your facial expression changed him, the doe-like look in your eyes or your cupid bow lips, puckered in desire. He turned back around and kissed you, your hand still wrapped tightly around his arm. His hands reached for your waist and grabbed tightly at the flesh there. You dropped his hand when he picked you up by your waist, holding you up painfully on your tip-toes. Now you looked down slightly at him, his eyes dark and mature, scary and different in the nighttime.

“What do you want from me, Y/N?” He grunted up at you, his voice heavy. You swallowed nervously and whined quietly from the painful way his fingers bore into your waist, the fabric of your romper giving your an uncomfortable wedgie

“I-,” you took a breath, “want you.”

“Oh, do you now?” William smirked, rubbing his thumbs across the fabric around your sides. “And you always get what you want, so what makes me special to you? Why should I let you have me?”

You tried to catch your breath in your uncomfortable position.

“I’ve never wanted anyone like this before,” you whispered, breathless. It was an honest response that embarrassed you and your face flushed a deep unflattering pink. William laughed briefly and lowered your back to the ground.

“You’re just a naive little girl,” William stated, “you don’t know what you want.”

“No, you’re right. I don’t.” You answered, frustration showing in your tone, “It’s not enough that I’m making a fool of myself saying these things to you, you have to make me feel stupid as well. My father does enough of that.”

“You’re not stupid,” William observed quietly, but you were already mad, your voice gaining a harsher edge as you spoke.

“No, I’m not. I know I’m not. But to you and every other man that has ever been inside this house, I’m just a foolish little girl who knows nothing about the real world. And you may be right, Officer Killick, I may know nothing of war but it's only because you men have made it so that I can’t. I know nothing about how it feels for men and women to be together but I know something of how I feel, I know what want is. I know what desire is. I desire so many things, sir. I want an education, I want to be taken seriously, I want to get out of this house, and right now, I want you.

Your voice was no louder than a whisper but you felt as though you had been shouting. William watched you as you spoke, his jaw loosening as he listened. When you finished, he raised his eyebrow. Saying nothing, he stepped closer and swept the hair off your shoulders to your back.

“You speak of desire,” William said softly as his hands cradled your neck, “I didn’t think I could desire anything after I came back.”

You looked up at William and breathed out shakily when he began stroking your throat.

“Why do I desire such an aggravating young woman? How could I want you so desperately when you make me so fucking angry?”

“I could say the same sir,” you whispered, your hands hesitantly finding his chest beneath his jacket. William looked down at your sweet face and kissed you softly. You gripped the slack in his shirt, pulling him closer. William began to kiss you harder, shifting his head to the other side, and breathing deeply against your skin. You moaned softly as his hands slid down the front of your romper, lingering over your breasts. Your nipples hardened beneath his light touch as his thumbs passed over them. His hands traveled down to your bare thighs and then back up, slipping up your shorts.

His right hand shifted over to your crotch, pulling and prodding at the material there. You moaned and rose up on the balls of your feet. You pushed the dinner jacket from his shoulders, watching as it fell to the grass behind him in a pile. Stumbling backwards, William held your waist against his stomach, bending your back away from him as he kissed you. You pulled at his hair, taking handfuls in your palms and tugging lightly. The Officer felt blood rush to his cock as he lowered you onto the grass beside the fountain. Your kisses became more erratic, sloppy with nerves and fear. Your heart seemed to beat so fast and hard that the ground quivered beneath you. William reached around your back, finding the small zipper at the nape of your neck and unzipped the romper slowly.

“Wait,” you whispered and drew away from the man, “I don’t know how to do this.”

William nodded, his breath shallow from lust, “It's alright sweetheart.” His voice was deep and contrasted strangely with the lightness of his blue eyes. The tree adjacent to your bodies covered you with a blanket of additional darkness, but even still, you could trace the outline of the officer’s face with your eyes.

“You don’t have to do anything,” he whispered against your ear as he moved the straps from your shoulders, exposing the flesh below your collarbones and above your breasts. “But because you’re such a spoiled brat who gets whatever you wants…” his eyes flicked up to hers as he pulled the romper down your chest. “It's my turn to do what I want.”

William tugged the romper down your waist and maneuvered it off your legs, setting it neatly to the side. Below your romper, you wore only underwear. William’s hands shook as he traced the hemming of the pretty panties, trailing a finger from the point of your pelvis to the inside of your thigh. You panted nervously, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. You resisted the urge to cover your breasts with your arms, embarrassed that you were so exposed when he was still almost fully dressed. With one last quick glance up at the house, William kissed your navel and then again on the soft pouch of flesh above the top of your underwear.

When he pulled your underwear down to your knees, you gasped and covered your mouth quickly, shocked by the reality of your situation. At any moment, your father could awake and find the two other rooms empty. At any moment, your father could come outside to see the young officer lower his mouth to your thighs and kiss them gently. The house, however, stayed quiet and dark as William spread your legs as far as you could with the underwear still around your knees, and rubbed his pointer finger between the folds of your cunt.

“I want to feel you around my fingers,” William said hoarsely, holding himself over you, still kneeling between your crooked legs. “I want to see how much you can take.” He added with a soft smirk before slowly inserting one finger inside you. You arched your back slightly, scared by the intrusion that wasn’t necessarily pleasurable.

“It’s in,” he encouraged you quietly and moved his finger back and forth, coating it with your natural lubricant. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” William watched your face. Your eyes widened as his finger went deeper, making you feel full with just one finger inside. It didn’t really feel like anything, though you enjoyed the closeness it awarded you as William’s face got closer and closer to your own. His breath mingled with your’s, your eyes locked.

“Just one more finger and you’ll start to feel it. It’ll feel good.” William told you as he slowly inserted a second finger. You quickly muffled your moan as William worked the two fingers inside. The Officer was right, that’s when you started to feel it. William curled his fingers up and worked them in and out, prodding at the small button-like organ inside your cunt. You squirmed beneath him, your hips thrusting up as you tried to work through the sensations.

“Good…” William praised you, licking his lips quickly, and looked down at your wet cunt. Then he slowly lowered his face between your thighs and watched up close as his fingers worked inside you, eliciting dampened whimpers and sighs. Watching your changing facial expressions, William applied his mouth to your clit and began to suck gently. Immediately, your hips jutted forward, Your free hand pulled up handfuls of grass and you bit down on your palm. You whimpered loudly through your teeth and William smiled against your cunt, licking your folds in quick, cat-like laps.

“Sir,” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, “s-something's happening. Mmmmmm oh god!” You cried as William sucked harder on your clit, his fingers fucking you with more violence.

“You’re cuming. Good, good girl.” William smirked and helped your ride through your violent first orgasm. Your hips fell back against the grass as cloudy juice coated his tired fingers. Licking them clean, William sat back on his knees and admired your beautiful body. You looked up at him with your wide, doe-like eyes. Your hair was wild and sweat glistened across your collarbones. William had not been able to get an erection since he left the airforce, but now, he felt the old-familiar feeling of his cock being crushed against his pants. His crotch tented out toward you. You were panting as you tried to catch your breath.

“We’re not quite done yet,” William ran a hand up your thigh to your cheek. The muscles in your stomach contracted as his hand passed over them. With his free hand, William undid the front of his trousers and pulled his erection from his underwear. His pants fell slightly below his pale butt as he supported himself over you again. “Put your hand on it,” William ordered kindly and waited patiently as you reached for his cock in the dark. He sighed loudly as you held his cock and began to rub your hand up and down.

“Good, keep doing that and go a little faster…. Just like that, yes.”

“It’s so big…” You whispered, biting your lip.

“Well what’d you expect, sweetheart?” William tried to smile before breaking into a moan. “Ok, I’ll take over again from here. I’m going to fuck you now, ok?” He waited for you to nod before he raised one of your legs and lined himself up with your entrance. “This will hurt a little. Try to be quiet, ok?” He pushed inside and felt the immediate contraction of your cunt around him as he did.

“So fucking wet, bloody hell.” William watched as his cock slid inside, your cum glistening around his length. You covered your mouth once again and gasped each time he pulled back and reentered you. “Oh I’m going to fuck your sweet little cunt,” William groaned, holding himself back from fucking you as hard as he wanted to.

“It feels so good,” You gasped behind your hand and William nodded.

He started to move deeper, slightly shifting the girl’s body across the grass as his hips met hers. His butt flexed as he went as far as he could inside her, whimpering when you squeezed around him. As he started to gain more momentum, William grunted each time he thrusted into you and you bit down on your thumb to stop yourself from yelling out in pleasure. He held one of your thighs up to your chest, helping his cock find the button of pleasure inside your cunt. When he did, you moaned around your thumb. You grabbed at the Officer’s shirt, pulling him closer to your chest. William supported himself just above your face and kissed your splotchy pink neck as he went slower.

“I’m going to cum again,” you whimpered beside his ear.

William smirked and bit down gently on your shoulder, his hips rutting deeply into you.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” William urged you as he worked up to his own climax. Your whimpers peaked as you came around him for a second time, your hands grabbing onto the back of his shirt. Fucking you a little faster as you whinned beneath him, William came to a blinding climax. Pulling out just in time, he spilled his hot seed onto the ground beside you. You stared at each other as you panted, both of your grotesquely pale skin glowing in the dark. Finally, William kissed you again, sucking on your bottom lip as you sighed softly.

And just as you pulled apart, a soft yellow light came on upstairs.

....

Should there be a part 2?

#cillian murphy #cillian x fem!reader #fanfiction #cillian fanfic #cillian x y/n #smut #william killick #the edge of love #1940s #wartime love #killick x reader #fem!reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy x reader

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puck-bunnies · 3 months

Text

vampire love

jack hughes x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw 18+, basically pure word porn, oral sex (m and f receiving), throat fucking, unprotected sex (p in v), praising, dirty talk, not proof read

“i fuck her like a god, that’s without a doubt. that bitch gon give me top, that’s with out a doubt.”

word count: 3k

♪ - vampire love, yung bruh

we sit around the burning logs of the campfire, the sun recently just setting as the waves crash along the shore. the bright sun and foggy clouds washing away to leave the stars scattered along the dark sky.

i sit on jack's lap, my head resting against his chest and his hands comb through my hair. it feels like old times, the summers we would come here as kids and spend endless hours outside together.

jack’s family had previously retreated back to the house, falling asleep as me and jack stay under the beaming stars. my eyes are lost in the fire, head gone into a fuzzy state.

i finally snap out of it once i see the fire die down, the amber light not flooding the area around us. i get up from jack's lap, grabbing another log of wood from the pile and throwing it on top of the dying flames. i repeat the action, grabbing another two logs and perfectly laying them on the pit.

once the logs are placed well for the fire to come back to life, i rest back on jack's lap. i'm stunned once i feel something hard underneath me. "jack." i mumble, feeling his hard cock against my leg.

"i'm sorry baby. you were bending over, and this things got a mind of it's own." he chuckles, not ashamed of the boner making the crotch of his jeans tighten. i let my hand travel from his chest down to graze his abs, his jeans tightening even more with my teasing fingers.

my fingers don't stop, going lower getting a groan from jack's lips. "don't start something you can't finish y/n."

"i can deal with it." i whisper, letting my fingers rub just above the waistband of his jeans. jack's jaw tightens, clenching as i move to his belt. i climb off of his lap, setting one of the yard pillows on the ground before kneeling on it between his legs. my fingers undo his belt, button and zipper.

jack raises his hips, helping me maneuver his jeans and boxers down his legs to pool at his ankles. my one hand rests on his thigh, the other wrapping around the base of jack's thick cock. finger traces up the one prominent vein on his length, squeezing lightly at his almost pulsating hardness, getting a soft groan from his lips.

my thumb rises to his tip, swirling around the pre-cum that soaks his needy tip. jack sucks in a breath as i continue to tease him, he resists the urge to buck his hips up into my hands, begging to feel the friction against him.

i form my hand in a circle, slowly running my hand down him. jack lets out a long harsh breath, "oh shit baby." he groans.

"you like that?" i smirk, swirling my thumb around his tip again, pumping back down his base.

my other hand squeezes his thigh, "oh fuck yes." he submissively whimpers out. a hum passes my lips as i replace my thumb with my tongue, circling around his salty tip. my eyes stay on jack's as his start to roll back in his head, thighs tightening beneath my grasp.

i can feel the heat in my core burning, wetness starting to ruin my panties. all my body wishes for is to be filled by the very cock that my tongue is swirling around. but my mind wants to please jack, to have my throat to his desire.

that's why i don't mind when his hands push through my hair, forming a makeshift ponytail to keep the hair out of my face. slowly pushing down my head to fill my mouth with him.

his tip hits the back of my throat, i fight the urge to gag, wanting to be able to last for jack. my tongue acts like a cushion for his cock, letting it slide against his veiny cock with every push down of my head.

because of the way jack's fucking my throat, i somehow take his whole length inside my mouth. leaving both of my hands to steady myself on his thighs, squeezing his muscles causing him to softly groan. his head slowly rolls back, closing his eyes while taking in the blissful moment.

usually i would prefer for jack to keep his eyes on me whenever we're having sex, wanting to feel the love surging between us with the eye contact. but this feels different, the neediness of his groans and my openness to whatever jack wants, i don't care as much. this feels like pure lust, not a loving moment.

i hallow my cheeks out more, letting jack fill me up more, earning a deep groan to leave his mouth as it is continued to roll back. "oh fuck y/n, just like that." he praises, pushing and pulling my head down faster. he starts to buck his hips with his pace, needing more from me then he can get. "al, almost there." he moans out.

jack's cock twitches in my mouth, quickly followed with ropes of cum spilling down my throat. his grip shortly tightens around my hair before completely falling down, letting me take back control over my head.

i slowly bob my head a few more times, letting jack chase his long awaited high. i let his cock pop out of my mouth, letting the softened cock lay down. jack's cum spills down my throat as i swallow it, letting the warm sticky substance run down me.

it takes a moment for jack to come back to normal, his chest heaving up and down as he gains his breath back from his orgasm. "shit baby, that was.. amazing." jack compliments on the new way i sucked him off. "but i'm not going to let go unrewarded." he smirks.

he stands up, towering over me as he collects his boxers and jeans from his ankles. he looks down at me with almost a degrading manner, his stare makes me feel small, like i could be damaged by a pin dropping. jack's hand cups my jaw, stroking my cheek with his thumb.

"lets get you inside." he coos at me, taking my hand and helping me rise to my feet. he practically drags me in the house, his mouth craving the taste of me that he misses. we slide the glass door open, trying to be quiet and not wake the entire hughes family.

he stops me in the darkened living room right before the couch, a prominent smirk growing on his face. he softly pushes me down on the couch, stunning me as my ass hits the soft cushions. "what're you doing jack?" he doesn't answer me, dropping to his knees between my legs like i once was to him.

jack guides my legs apart, looking up my short tennis skirt to my mess of my panties. a proud smirk resting on his face as he sees what he does to me, how even just having his cock in my mouth can have me soaked. he reaches his fingers out, softy stroking up my wet folds.

"jack, what're you doing? someone could catch us."

he hungrily licks his lips, "i'm willing to take that risk." he hooks his fingers in the waistband of my panties. "do you trust me?"

"always."

that's all it takes for jack to slide my panties down my soft legs, pushing my skirt up to show off my core. i can hear his breath hitch, looking at my gleaming folds as their coated in my wetness.

“such a pretty pussy baby. so wet for me, from only sucking my cock?” he husks at me, pressing a soft teasing kiss to my inner thigh, slowly getting rougher with ever inch closer to where i need him the most.

i bite my lip, nodding to his degrading words. his kisses finally get to my core, pressing a soft kiss to my swollen clit. my lungs suck in a harsh breath, my jaw clenching as jack works slowly.

he finally sticks his tongue out, swirling around my bud of nerves. my hands find their way to his hair, pulling at his roots as i try to steady myself. i can feel a smirk spread on jack’s face, looking up into my eyes as i stare down into his.

jack’s tongue darts out of his mouth, kitty licking my aching clit. “please baby.” i beg out loud for jack. his hands go to my mouth, covering my mouth as i speak too loudly.

“shh, you gotta be quiet if you want his to happen.” he hushes me. i nod against his hand, my eyes softening. i’ll do anything for jack’s touch, beg embarrassingly just for him to get a taste of me. “good girl.”

he keeps his hand against my mouth, he knows me well enough to know that i won’t stay quiet enough without his hand there. his other hand takes one of my ankles, putting my foot up on the couch to let him have a better angle of myself. i mirror his action with my other leg, folding my knees almost up to my chest.

once i’m in the perfect position, jack starts. instead of working on my clit, he goes to my folds. running his tongue down to my needy hole as it was previously clenched around nothing. he’s quick to start slurping on me, fitting my whole slit in his mouth.

i try not to make a peep, jack trusting me enough to remove his hand from my mouth, pressing his thumb to my clit. he rubs circles around my puffy and needy bud, i have to bite down harshly on my bottom lip.

“taste so good baby.” jack hums into pussy.

curses flow out of my mouth softly, trying not to wake his sleeping family through the thin walls. the overstimulation of his tongue plunging deep into me and his thumb rubbing quickly on my slit making it almost impossible to keep myself quiet.

jack’s eyes stay on mine, watching as i struggle to stay quiet on how good he makes me feel. “doing such a good job.” his words make my walls vibrate again.

my thighs start to gravitate towards each other, almost crushing jack’s head between them. his large hand has to guide them back open, his skin harshly gripping me.

it’s not long before i can feel my stomach tightening, the overstimulation making my whole body shutter. my orgasm almost coming over me, “i’m so close jack.” i rush out in a hushed moan.

his tongue is fast, exploring deep inside me as his thumb is quicker then ever. “it’s okay.. let it out.” i can’t take it anymore, relaxing my body as the knot that was unbearably tight loosens all over jack’s tongue.

my head rolls back on the couch, chest heaving as jack helps me chase my high, hushed moans rippling through the air. curses leave my lips mixing with gasps of jack’s name.

once i feel my orgasm completely wash over me, jack works slowly to clean my folds up. getting rid of the remains of my orgasm littering my centre. jack presses a kiss on my inner thigh once again.

“you did such a good job.” he whispers.

he climbs up my body, pressing a kiss to my collarbone then to my jaw. he finishes it by pressing another one onto my lips, the faint taste of each other in our mouths as jack slips his tongue into my mouth.

my chest still tries to catch up to my lungs, trying to regulate my breath as my orgasm still lingers in my veins.

jack backs off of me, standing up above me once again. that’s when i see it, “how are you hard.. again?” i softly giggle, my eyes staying on his strained jeans as they contain his growing size.

“the sound, sight and taste of you was too much.” he whispers. “i need you so bad y/n.”

a smile appears on my face, i fold down my skirt off of my stomach as it was piled up. standing up to level my height with jack, quickly bending down to grab my discarded panties, not wanting to leave any evidence of our actions in the living room. i stuff them into jack’s jean pocket, lacing my hand into his.

“how about this time, we go somewhere we won’t get caught.” my words are soft and suggestive, leading him out of the living room towards his bedroom.

the unmade bedcovers scrunch at the bottom of the mattress, the darkness of the room concealing our bodies as jack seels the door with a lock. before jack can turn back around, i strip my shirt off of me, throwing them on the ground to soon be forgotten.

the soft glow of the moonlight peaks through the window, illuminating me and jack’s bodies as we lower on the mattress. our bodies are quick to entangle each other. i lay on my back, being engulfed by the soft mattress as jack lays between my legs.

our clothes were somehow discarded onto the ground leaving only our naked bodies to be met by the cold air.

our demeanour stays the same, venturing away from our usual love making to a rougher style. i can't complain, the way jack is acting it turning me on more then ever, the cocky and sex drawn jack has the heat in between my legs pooling again.

he's quick to rub his tip up and down my aching folds, teasing my entrance before finally slowly lining up with my hole and pushing in. his hips push in slowly at first, letting me adjust to his almost painful size as he bottoms me out.

stretching a leg over his broad shoulders, he presses down farther somehow, filling me completely. a silent moan falls from my open mouth as my chest doesn’t have enough hair to let a real one out, my lungs grave oxygen but my nerves are too weak to grant it.

jack’s strong hands grip the flesh of my thighs, adding a soft slap to them as he rocks his hips back. when he thrusts in this time it’s harsh, snapping his hips to mine with a soft sound of skin slapping. a quiet, “oh shit.” falls from my lips as my hands bunch up the covers in my palms.

with my words jack’s smile grows, he leans down, pressing a kiss to my lips to silence me. his hips quicken with rhythmic thrusts, his skin hitting against my thighs with each buck of his hips. jack’s tongue slips into my mouth, the still faint taste of each other lingers between our mouths.

my grip on the balls of material between my fingers losen, the pads of my fingertips lingering up jack’s arms to his hair. i gently pull his roots receiving a muffled groan from his throat that feeds into mine with our heated kiss.

with this being the second round of my orgasms, it doesn’t take long for another one to come. my back starts to lift off the mattress, arching into his chest. the reoccurring knot forms in my stomach, the familiar tightening of my joints and heaving of my chest.

“i’m so close baby.”

jack’s hips keep their pace, but with every thrust they become sloppier. my muscles clench around the long cock continuing to pump in me, it’s gets another groan from jack’s plump lips.

“let it out pretty girl. make a mess.” he degrades once again in my ear.

it only takes three or four more snaps of his hips for me to undo underneath his warmth. moans litter out of my mouth, echoing around the room and feeding into jack’s ears. the back of my head grinds into the pillow underneath me, riding my high as i feel his cock twitch in me following with his soft and warm ropes of cum.

only a couple more strokes of his cock and we both run off of our orgasms, my leg falling off of his shoulder. jack softly collapsing on me, his head falling onto our chests as we catch our breaths.

after a few moments, jack props himself up again, swiftly pulling himself out of me. his hands run underneath my back, helping me to sit up on the bed. “let’s get you in the shower.”

jack helps me into the bathroom, letting me on the counter as he starts the shower, letting it warm up before he helps me stand in the shower. before he joins me in the shower, he grabs a washcloth, running it under the warm water to wash me off.

once the insides of me are clean from the remains of my orgasm, he wipes over his length. “you did just a good job baby.” jack presses his lips up to my temple, giving me a soft kiss before letting us underneath the hot streaming water.

my mind is still a mess, i can only mumble to his words. i let him shower me, washing all over my body to remove the sweat from our actions.

#jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #nhl x reader #nhl fic #hockey player x reader #hockey imagine #hockey fic #puck-bunnies

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corvidcrossbow · 30 days

Text

Obviously today is mother's day ‘n now I'm just thinking about how Daryl would be on it because I am down bad and imagine too much of my life with this man 😔🙏 (Can you blame me?)

He'd check the calendar and the community one so many times to make sure he had the day right, since obviously that kinda got screwed up with the apocalypse and y'all had to kinda reinvent it, and still it's really easy to get off track.

But he was sure today was the day, and carefully crept out of bed earlier in the morning to surprise you. He picks flowers from the community, maybe slipping from the walls for just a moment to find one he's missing, then carefully arranges them in a vase he'd picked out on a run once.

He quietly goes to wake up your daughter, and together they prepare a luxury arrangement of pancakes/waffles/french toast (whatever be your favorite), and a bar of toppings ready to be added like fresh fruits, homemade honey and maple syrup, freshly whipped cream, and so on.

When you'd come down the steps, rubbing sleep from your eyes, he'd quickly come over to wrap you in his arms and kiss you. “G'mornin’ sunshine. Happy momma's day,”

He'd lead you over to the table where the vase and breakfast bar sit, your daughter presenting a card she'd made for you. And that was just the beginning of it. Daryl secretly worked with her to create all sorts of little crafts and gifts for you.

Later, he'd take you both out to a quiet lake, somewhere he was sure was clear where no walkers or anything would come and disturb you. He'd sit behind you in the warm and soothing sun, keeping hands on you and massaging you, peppering kisses to your shoulders and the nape of your neck, whispering endless praises in your ears as you watch your daughter collect little blossoms and such not far from you, playing with Dog.

“Look at her… you gave me that. Thank you Dar…” You say quietly in wonder and gratitude.

“Ya gave me tha’. Thank you. Ya deserve everythin’. Best damn momma in tha world.” Another kiss to the soft spot behind your ear.

And later, he'd cook you dinner – some fancy cut of venison he'd only ever make for you, then having a campfire in the backyard, the three of you stargazing till your daughter soon falls asleep in your laps. He'd carry her up to bed, and you'd split glasses of wine in the kitchen.

And with the kid asleep, his hands find purchase on your waist, smoothing over your clothed frame as you'd exchange flirty comments. He was so drunk on love for you, mouth sucking lightly at your jawline and neck, trailing down, eager to continue on the skin of your chest.

It wasn't long before you were stumbling to your bedroom, Daryl's hands caressing every single inch of your body, never able to get enough of you.

His head would stay buried between your thighs for as long as you'd want it – no matter how fatigued his tongue got, how sore his jaw became, he didn't even notice it as his focus stayed locked on listening to your every moan, watching you writhe and buck up to his touch.

He'd thank you in every single way imaginable for being a mother. The mother of his child. For everything you do for him, everything you do for your daughter, and everything you do in general, reminding you just how perfect you are. and maybe making you a mother twice over.

And the best part of it all; it didn't need to be mother's day for Daryl to do this. He'd do this any day, ever, no matter the occasion. He does most of these on a regular basis anyway. That man was never religious till he met you and you became the Goddess to which he will kiss the ground in every spot you step, bend to your every will and command and do anything for you, worship you till his dying breath.

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 5 months

Text

Compromise: cbf!soap x f!reader

Despite what you said you spent every moment of your free time waiting for Johnny.

It was subconscious at first. You constantly looked at your phone for any missing texts or phone calls, or a voicemail. Eventually you found yourself waiting for him to reach out.

The months went by and there was nothing.

You went to class and studied with your mind on Johnny. You had no clue how basic training worked, if he had any free time or if he decided to completely cut you off. You couldn't blame him but you never thought it that much because it made you feel awful.

Ever since he left you had felt incredibly numb. You weren't sure if that was worse than feeling miserable all the time, though you did know if you didn't keep yourself busy you'd probably either be crying too much or would just be frozen.

By the end of October you were used to it. This was going to be the way your life would be until the heartbreak wore off, until his absence was only mildly upsetting.

You sat on your bed in your dorm one evening and your phone rang.

You hesitated to pick it up for only a second before you saw that it was him, it was Johnny.

"Johnny?" You asked immediately, your vision blurring and your throat tightening.

"You picked up...!" He sounded surprised and relieved.

A few tears fell at the sound of his voice but you felt relief, happiness and sadness all at the same time.

"Yeah, um, how is it? How are you?" You asked him as you wiped away the tears.

"It's good, I'm good." He was vague but you didn't really care. "Better now that I'm talking to you."

"Me too."

You both went silent but it was comforting knowing that he was on the other end of the phone. You wondered what this meant, if maybe he was coming home.

"What's going on?" You wondered hopefully. "Are you finished...?"

"Yeah, basic training is over but I'll be going to advanced training tomorrow." He explained and you frowned.

You shouldn't have gotten so hopeful.

"Oh...how long is that going to be?" You asked and tried to hide your disappointment.

"Depends. It might be until the end of April." He said and you sighed.

That was seven months from now. And there was no telling that he'd even come home after that. He might have to go to another training he might start work.

You both we're already nineteen by now too (having missed each other's birthdays since he was gone). Would he be twenty before he came home? Would he come home at all?

"But I'll have a lot more time to call..." He trailed off and you perked up. "If that's something-"

"You had better call me when you can!" You exclaimed and he barked out a laugh.

"I will, I promise."

It was like the seeing the sun again after constant rain. You stayed on the phone with him for hours catching up with him the best either of you could. Just being able to hear him, to know that he was going to call you again was enough to have you feeling better than you had in months.

It was well into the night when you started falling asleep. You had classes in the morning and you didn’t care but the day was catching up to you.

“I should go.” Johnny said and you huffed.

“Don’t want you to.” You mumbled and he sighed.

“I’ll try to call you tomorrow.”

You hid your face in your pillow trying to your hardest to not get upset. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to possibly never hear him again.

You just wanted him with you again.

“I miss you.” You whispered.

“I miss you too.” He said back softly.

Neither of you were willing to end the call for a couple minutes. You knew both of you needed to go to bed but you just couldn’t.

“Goodnight, bonnie.” He said and you sniffled.

“Goodnight, Johnny. I love you.”

Silence.

“I love you too.”

Johnny ended the call and you stared into your dark room for a couple minutes.

You hoped he would call again tomorrow.

A/n: see alls great! *pushes upcoming angst away* promise

Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf

#cbf!soap #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x you #soap x reader #soap x you #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mctavish x you #johnny soap mactavish

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

Note

you know that photo of princess diana asleep at some “royal engagement” and it turned out she was pregnant at the time ? anyways I can’t help but imagine what would happen if aemond wife were to fall asleep at some engagement, meeting, etc

One Eye Open When I'm Sleeping

ONE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEYYYYYYEEEEEEE

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: Aemond has been noticing a shift in your sleep pattern. He had his suspicions but didn't make note of it to you up until he unceremoniously announced it to everyone.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, wife!reader, misogynistic rats, mentions/depictions of pregnancy symptoms, ready to stab at any given moment & protective!aemond, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: i resuscitated myself into my aemond craze. tbh idk what happened with this fic i hope you enjoy tho nonnie. ALSO I LOOKED UP THE PICS OF DIANA AND SHE IS SUCH A PRINCESS SUCH A BABY GIRL IF SHE GOT SHIT FOR THAT I SWEAR I WILL PUT A HIT ON EVERYONE WHO SLANDERED MY QUEEN Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @deniixlovezelda @risefallrise @sloanexx

Aemond drew circles on your back as he looked down at your sleeping form. Normally, you'd both be up and about at this time, awake far before the sun reached this height in the sky.

His reason was sleep did not come easy and came fast with him. Or at least that was before his darling wife came into the picture.

You on the other hand, his darling wife, were an early riser by choice. Not only do you enjoy watching the sun rise with a chirp and a smile at the start of the mornings, but you had also been accustomed to do so because of your mother.

This was why your continued slumber, flush, snoozing form snug against him, was something he had mentally been noting. He had no complaints. Why would he when his beloved bride was so comfortably nuzzled in his chest? Which also, in turn, allowed him to sleep longer. He noted it anyway still, at the forefront of his mind.

He noted your appetite changes also. And to this he was less permissive, especially in moments where you felt sick.

In this moment, he had the staff lined up by the side of the table as Aemond chewed his first meal of the day slowly, watching you intently as you did the same.

You licked your lips and offered a guilty look to the servants.

Aemond knew you would wait for the world to be in ruin than ever complain about anything.

"Wonderful meal," you smiled, turning to Aemond with a pleading look to let them be.

With a single nod he did, eyeing the head cook that eyed him back on her way out.

Aemond had various possible explanations for your eating patterns, for the queasiness, the lack of appetite, the intolerance for some food, and the immense cravings for others. One in particular, the most obvious and plausible of them all, you were with child.

He grabs your cup of wine before you could drink from it and offers a smile. You roll your eyes at him, thinking he was merely trying to tease you.

Aemond made it a point to divert the attention from you to the staff though. If you feel the need to vomit because of the meal, then they shall be reprimanded, and if you feel like you could eat the whole day, then they shall be rewarded.

Today it seems Aemond would need to speak with them and your intolerance to spinach.

And speak he did. You scowled deeply at him after for doing so and nagged his ear off for being so 'cruel' to the staff for the past week, simply because you were feeling under the weather. You told him the maesters gave you medicine for your ailment and that it was a problem with you and not the food.

Little did you know there was actually no real 'reprimanding' going on, at least not in the way you pictured it.

They were in on it.

The servants, the maesters. Aemond had been investigating with them the subtle changes you've been having. It was the head cook, Susana, who also happened to be a mother of five, that informed Aemond she was nearly certain you were with child.

All that was left was the maesters to verify it. Aemond's decision not to tell you until he heard the word from your measter stemmed from knowing how you'd be if in case he was wrong with his hunch. He knew he wasn't, but he wouldn't risk getting your hope up nonetheless.

But damn, he hadn't planned for you to learn of it like this. Though, had he not said it, he'd just killed the man in cold blood instead.

It happened so quickly.

"Say that again," Aemond blurted, face twitching, hands stretched out at the side of his body.

The lord ,who made the mistake of singling you out in the middle of the meeting, the meeting you were not even a part of, all because you were an easy target, scoffs and gives Aemond an incredulous look.

You had woken up from the nap you hadn't realized you took in the middle of it all because of Aemond's loud voice.

The lord pointed as he fumed, "your insolent, pretentious wife has done nothing but mock my house since the moment you've arrived!"

Aemond lets out a chuckle. Make no mistake, he was severely unamused.

He was about ready to lunge at him from your side of the table, but then you had managed to perk up and grab his hand. You look at up at him from where he stood next to your seat, hand quivering in your touch out of anger.

It was a wonder Aemond managed to speak in such a manner that did not give himself away, "I assure you, my lord, if my wife wished to mock you, she'd have done it before you bored her to death with your prolonged distractions in a manner so kindly, you'd not even realized she spat at your face."

The lord scoffs in utter disbelief, "you fucking c-"

"I, on the other hand, would gladly openly mock you and your pathetic excuse for a treaty," Aemond mutters, shaking your hands off him. "You think me a fool for your conditions? Any moron with one eye could see how you're trying to play me-"

"Aemond," you whisper.

But it was too late, Aemond lunged to him, slid across the table, and tackled him to the ground, pulling out a blade he kept always in his back pocket. His eyes were blown as he overpowered the man with a raging intent to seriously harm him. He mutters under his breath, "beg for your life."

"Aemond!" you cry out, running to him as the rest of the people in the room do the same.

Aemond watches at the man's face struggles against him. The prince chuckles dryly, "shall I execute you in front of your men?"

The man growls, "get him fuck off me!"

A few men begin to close in on him.

"If any of you touch me, I will slit his throat from ear to ear," Aemond raises his voice.

You begin to panic, "Aemond, please, enough of this."

"No," he barks back, eye not leaving his target, "he ought to beg me not to skin him for not only insulting me," he presses his dagger closer to the cretin's skin, "wasting my time in showing amity by even bringing my wife along this damned trip, but also for demeaning the one person that has kept me patient this whole bloody time!" Aemond rages. He begins to see red, "that person carrying my child, you dumb fuck," he grit his teeth, fury ablaze all over again.

Your eyes widen at your husbands words. You gasp when the man yelps when Aemond nicks his jaw.

He scoffs, "you call her insolent and pretentious, for what? Expressing indications of child bearing?!"

The man in Aemond's clutch begins to lose the color of his face.

Aemond looks down at him.

"I- I did not realize-"

"Of course you didn't realize, you dimwitted ninnyhammer," Aemond hisses, "you treat your own very evidently expecting wife with worse disdain."

"Aemond, please," you mutter rather weakly.

He snorts at the sound of it. He weighs his options.

He stills when you call out to him again.

Fine. He shoves the man back and gets off him, eyeing him darkly as he made his way to you. Once he did, he puts keeps his blade and takes your face in his hands. Part of him begins to be eaten away at the sight of your teary eyes.

But then he's infuriated all over again.

"Your grace, I-"

"Do not speak to me unless you want to lose your tongue," Aemond deadpans as he turns over his shoulder. He grabs your hand and walks out, "you needn't worry about a deliberation for your treaty. May the Seven help you with your endeavors against the crown."

#aemond fanfic #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemon targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond #house of the dragon fanfic #aemond fluff #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x you

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kireijae · 9 months

Text

confused! - ldh

a/n: i listened to pado and this is what came of it

warnings: minors who read this will be skinned. not full on smut but close enough. some angst but smutty fluff ending

—

you felt haechan get up beside you, pulling his warmth with him. you were laid in your bed, snuggled up in haechan's t-shirt from the night- or hours- before.

he had a schedule soon, you weren't quite sure what time it was, but you could hear him quietly ticking off his mental to-do list.

"okay, 15 minutes. i should shower," he mumbled, something he always did when he was rushing to work.

you heard the water turn on, and nearly fell asleep again to the rhythmic sound of it falling to the floor.

"yeah, mark, i'm at her place right now."

you weren't sure how long you'd slept for, most likely around 10 minutes, because haechan could still be heard, though he was outside your bedroom door now.

"i'd tell you some of the details later but we won't have time to talk by ourselves much right?" you mentally rolled your eyes. of course he would tell mark about your first night being (somewhat) intimate. you were taking it slow, so anything happening was exciting for the both of you. you didn't really blame him, you'd definitely call your best friend as soon as the sun came up and fill her in on your night.

"dude..." haechan trailed off into a sigh. "she had me confused."

'confused'? the words hit you like a block of ice. what had you done wrong? why didn't he say anything?

"yeah! i tried to look down and see what she was doing so i could get her to slow down or something– no, she wasn't looking at me! her eyes were closed! and she was moaning like crazy!"

your body chilled further, but your cheeks heated up to a searing temperature, the embarrassment flooding your senses. why had he not stopped you anyway if it was that bad?

"yeah, so i had to just hold on and pray, man," haechan laughed.

you felt tears spring to your eyes and your face grew hot. blood rushed through your ears and you didn't hear anything haechan said until he opened the door to your room.

"yeah, i'm on my way out now. see you," he whispered, grabbing something from on top of your dresser.

you heard him shuffle over to you and felt his lips press into your hair. you were glad for the lingering darkness, as it hid your saddened features from your boyfriend.

–

haechan texted you at 5pm asking if he could come over after his schedules and you begrudgingly agreed. he'd whined when you'd attempted to wiggle your way out of seeing him, so you submitted. it would be a good opportunity to talk about what you heard that morning.

you'd been awake enough at the time to know it wasn't just a bad dream, though you'd tried to convince yourself it had been while you ate breakfast.

you psyched yourself up to see him again. tried to get yourself a little script to recite to him when he got there, but when he was right in front of you, holding his exhaustion in his eyes and a to-go bag from your favourite restaurant, you felt all the conviction you had earlier leave you in a matter of seconds.

so, there you were watching the office with haechan curled around you on the couch. he was gently caressing your upper arm with his left hand.

"did you have a good day, baby?" he asked, turning his attention from the show to you.

you guessed then was your chance, "umh, no not really." and as soon as you said it, he bolted up, sitting cross legged to your left, holding your hand.

"what's wrong?" he asked, sparkling eyes digging into yours to find an answer. "tell me, baby."

you sighed, obviously your conviction was once again swiped away by the boy before you. why was he so sweet? and why was he so stupid?

he sat there, waiting for your answer patiently.

"i heard you this morning," you finally let out, "on the phone."

his brows furrowed under his dark fringe, "did i wake you up?"

you looked down and shook your head, too embarrassed to look at him.

"i just wish you'd have spoken to me first instead of telling mark," you nearly whispered, anxiety pushing your voice higher than it usually was.

"oh," he said in the midst of his realisation, "i'm so sorry, angel, i won't talk about our sex lives with anyone if you don't want me to. i should've made sure you were okay with it first, huh?"

he rubbed your arm, but you shook it off. "i don't mean that," you still didn't have the courage to look at him. you took a long pause before speaking, the lump in your throat evident in your voice, "i mean you should tell me if you don't like something i'm doing. i want to make you feel good, and i can't do that if you don't tell me if i'm doing something wrong. you know it was my first time doing anything like that."

haechan's features were back to holding his confusion, "what do you mean? i loved every second of it. and i wouldn't have told mark otherwise."

you scoffed, "donghyuck, i heard you tell him that you wanted to slow me down and that i confused you. you–"

"that's what you thought i meant?" he burst out.

"what else could that mean, donghyuck?" your eyelids dropped slightly, nonplussed.

"it means you were so good i couldn't think straight," he said, pushing his face closer to yours as if close proximity would get the point across easier.

"what?" you still didn't believe him, "then why'd you try to slow me down? and what about the holding on and praying or whatever?"

he got closer to you again, his demeanour changing slightly– a lustful aura overtaking him. "because you were so good i was gonna cum down your throat after 30 seconds, only god could help me then."

you gave him the best unimpressed look you could, what with him smirking at you the way he was. you didn't want to get your hopes up, he had to be kidding. "you lasted pretty long, hyuck."

"i'll say. 3 minutes feels like forever when you're trying not to cum the whole time," he countered, "and you know i'm not usually that fast."

he had you there. although you hadn't gone much further than make-out sessions with hyuck, you had experimented a little. you'd cum on haechan's lap a few times and each time he'd get two orgasms out of you before he'd even thought to reach into his sweats and finish himself off. and even then he'd make you ride his thigh for a while longer before he came.

"that wasn't the real thing though," you argued.

"you think i don't know what i'm doing baby?" he asked slyly as he pulled your legs over his thighs.

you shook your head teasingly. another lie. haechan was known for having plenty of experience and particularly for having insane stamina. it was one of the things that intimidated you about him when you'd first met. who would want to date a virgin when he had his pick of any girl he wanted?

it was likely your insecurities around your inexperience that led to you perceiving his words the way you did, but that was a thought for a later time.

"i guess i'll have to prove myself then, huh, baby?" he barely got the whole sentence out before he was kissing you, roughly, and pushing you back down on the sofa.

the heat in your cheeks you felt that morning was no match for the burning sensation his lips left behind as he trailed down your jaw to your neck. he nibbled and sucked on your pulse point to pull specks of red, blue and purple to the surface of your skin.

"you drive me crazy, you know that?" he commented, probably spurred on by the small sighs falling from your mouth.

"you were already crazy when i met you," you giggled, looking down at him through his fringe.

he bit you a little harder at that, and when you squealed, he laughed heartily.

hyuck continued to kiss your neck, eventually moving down to your collarbones and then looking up to you expectantly with his hands pulling at the hem of your shirt.

"can i take this off?"

a small nod, and your shirt was gone a second later. replaced by warm hands and soft lips, anywhere they could reach.

"i'm gonna eat you out, okay sweetness?" he spoke as he slid his hand along the inside of your thigh. "i'll show you what it's like to feel so good you can't think."

you smiled at him and nodded, all embarrassment and doubt already wizzing right out of your head at the nickname paired with the thought of what was to come. pun intended.

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