#THANK YOU SI MUCH OF MY GOD
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sm-baby · 11 months ago
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This is it... i've peaked.. I can die now.. ok...
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THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS - OVA 1995
CARNIVAL TV SPECIAL!
POMNI MEETS CARNIVAL POMNI!
carnival au belongs to @sm-baby
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vaguely-concerned · 2 months ago
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lucanis truly has a near terminal case of burned out golden child syndrome. caterina fucked both of these kids over so incredibly bad with the dynamic she enforced there, with illario being labled the perpetual fuckup kid where lucanis 'could do no (would never be allowed to do) wrong'. the way he admits in the first coffee date scene that the only thing that happened when he showed he could carry the weight of expectation was that more weight was added makes me so sad. you can hear it in caterina's voice in his intro mission that she's incredibly proud of him, but this is clearly a leandra and hawke situation where that pride never translates into relief or resolution or unconditional warmth or understanding or anything that really helps.
#you messed up an excellent little autistic dude caterina look at him he has no personal life and his only friend is his scar-ass cousin!!#because that's what you told him he has to be and he believed you!!!#all that and you wouldn't even let him have a wyvern dagger just for fun and b/c it makes him SO happy? when i get you caterina dellamorte#I'm finding the crow family drama so compelling in this game I'm just hanging around treviso Observing haha#I wish they'd given illario a bit more nuance in this (as I feel he does have in the wigmaker job)#b/c with the sheer pantomime susness he's got going on they really don't want you to engage with him deeply haha#also teia mvp as always but I think that goes without saying (and happily all these lads around her seem to know it)#both lucanis and viago like 'thank you teia you're the best 🥺' and she's like 'yeah I know'#protective big sis of the remaining crow family haha. and she's got to be barely thirty years old at this point. I'm love her so much#'*annoyed voice* MAKER HELP US' she's saying what we're all thinking#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#I think my rook is having some uncomfortable moments of realizing some parallels here with their own relationship to the watchers haha#like 'buddy you're so much more than just a tool for your family to use. I however have a sacred duty I was banished from#the fulfilment of which determines my entire worth and that I am low-key mourning behind the levity b/c that's what I was made for. ...wait#I feel like rye was more the illario & lucanis combo only child tho. wants so much to be good but keeps getting into Shenanigans#chaotic underachiever with frankly upsetting potential when they actually get their act together and they WANT to so bad#but also. shenanigans keep happening. releasing blighted gods is only barely the wildest of them
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fluffy-ami · 1 year ago
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SIS HELLO AND CONGRATS ON 300+ FOLLOWERS!!
May I request lee!Kunikida or Ango? If not, just go for any bsd character you like most <3
Have a wonderful day/night! <3
.......you will get both 🫵🏻 (i love u), I'll just post them separately and tag you once I'm done with my little Ango doodle! Have this for now✨🌸
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✨silly doodles silly doodles silly doodles✨ I am so normal about them I swear- (click for slightly better quality lol)
(Milestone ☁️ Top 5 Favourite Fandoms + Recently added) Requests are still open! 🌟
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sherrymagic · 8 months ago
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we (alpha enthusiasts) are eating so well this week finallyy <3
this ep had SO MUCH Alpha i was honestly taken aback, Sasa how is it that we've been winning so much recently? is this a dream? is it the power of love? did we give away so much we finally get to receive? whatever it is hope it never ends, our girl got so much screentime and proper depth and some actual backstory on what her hopes and dreams and plans for the future are, i feel blessed AAAAAAAAAA
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pipthepiper · 1 month ago
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making virgin!vik (or any viktor really) come untouched. like bro 😵‍💫😵‍💫
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ミ★ 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝!! — 𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫.
ミ★ combining this one w/ another similar request (so damn yummy 🤤) and girl i’m DROOLING (from both ends sis) thank you for feeding me!!!!!
ミ★ 0.6k words, fem!reader, virgin!viktor, super sensitive!viktor, dirty talk, descriptive fantasies(?), language, viktor coming untouched, damn how many of these am i gonna write before virgin!viktor finally gets to fuck us?, who knows!
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viktor is rock-hard and leaking through his pants, cock jumping against the swell of your ass with each wet smack of your lips against his. his tongue is thick and eager as it twirls with yours, minty from choking down peppermints and sweetly slick.
“you’re so hard, vik,” you mumble hotly into his mouth, cunt oozing in response to the thick bulge pressing into you. “fuck, such a big boy, aren’t you?”
viktor whimpers hoarsely and squeezes his arms around your hips; he’s trembling, skin flushed hot and needy, body rubbing up softly against your weight.
“f-fuck, so hot — more, please talk more.” viktor groans, so desperate and bashful, horny passed his own limits. he loved how dirty your mouth was; it always worked him up so much.
“what do you want me to talk about, baby?” you press, pulling away from his mouth to stare heatedly into his blown eyes. viktor swallows audibly and his eyes grow pleading — like he wants you to understand what he wants without him having to verbalize it.
“oh, i know,” you coo, swiping stray strands of hair from his sweaty face. “you want me to tell you how much i want you, yeah?”
without waiting for a response, you lean down to latch your lips to his neck. you pepper kisses all along the column until you reach his ear.
“you want me to tell you how much i want your big cock inside me, hmm?” viktor’s dick jumps and he breathes out a small, whimper-y groan, shooting heat straight to your sopping cunt. oh, you had him around your finger.
“it would feel so good, vik. fucking me so deep, god. do you know how wet i am right now?” you press hotly, breath slipping into his ear canal and pulling a full-body shiver from him.
“y-you’re wet?” viktor stutters out, breathy and deep, so adorable in his aroused reverence. you nod and press a kiss to his ear.
“mhmm, so wet. i have to be, y’know? there’s no other way i could take your cock, baby.”
viktor whines out a deep, low “fuuuuuck,” and his cock twitches against your cunt, hot and throbbing — fuck, you know it would feel so good inside you, splitting open your walls and fucking you deeper than anyone else ever has.
“you’re the biggest i’ve ever had, vik,” you slur into his ear, tongue slicking against the lobe and sucking it between your lips for a moment. viktor shivers again and his arms tighten around you. he’s breathing even heavier now, cock jumping up against you even more.
“god, how i just want you to ruin my li’l pussy. you wanna do that, baby? fuck me ‘til i can’t speak? pound your big cock into me over and over—”
wet heat explodes through your shorts as viktor curses and moans, body twitching and spasming beneath yours. your eyes widen as you digest exactly what happened.
viktor just came. right in his pants. from your words alone.
god. he was so fucking delectable.
“‘m sorry,” viktor mumbles, hips twitching and face buried into your shoulder. you can feel the heat resonating from his flesh, embarrassment thick in his voice. “i-i didn’t know i’d cum. now you’re all messy…”
you giggle and press your lips against his neck, inhaling the saltiness of his sweat. he was so damn cute.
“i don’t mind, vik.” you say softly, speaking nothing but the truth. you really didn’t mind; it was quite the contrary. “i love how sensitive you are.”
viktor let out a noise that landed somewhere between a groan and a whimper; his face was still flushed, and his cum was cooling quickly against you. soon, it’d be completely dry and sticky.
and then you’d be marked by viktor in such a primal, carnal way.
and wasn’t that just the hottest, most wonderful thought? it was, and it made you want to make him cum again.
maybe next time you could suggest overstimulation to his eager, curious, inexperienced head.
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luminni · 7 days ago
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Can’t stop thinking about how much Simon “Ghost” Riley loves his American girlfriend.
(sorry for this being a 3rd repost, I had an account called Lumi_bunsblog but that one got deleted for some reason so this is the new one now ig lol)
Unlike the other 141 boys he wouldn’t poke fun at you or tease you about the different words you use. Kyle loves to correct you,
“Whens the soccer game on tonight?”
“Its football love, not soccer, ‘cause you kick the ball.”
“You kick the ball in American football as well.”
“Yeah but...ours is better”
Johnny’s a tease
“Have you seen my swimming suit?”
“You wear a suit to go swimming?”
“I’m not calling it a costume”
“Well it sure as hell isn’t a bloody suit”
Even Price gets in on it by pretending not to hear you,
“Can you grab some chips from the kitchen?”
“Hm? Sorry dear can’t hear ya’”
“Grab me some chips!”
“Gunna’ have'ta repeat that”
“....crisps”
“There ya’ go, really outta speak up more sweetheart”
Never mind the fact he was right beside you on the couch.
But Simon, Simon is different. Never once has he corrected or teased you, to the point where its become a bit of a hindrance.
“Can you stop by the gas station on your way home?”
And he’ll just stare at you, an almost blank expression on his face, only the fidgeting of his fingers give way to what he’s thinking.
“The petrol shop Si’”
“Right.” 
Is it because he doesn’t care? Or maybe he’s too frightened he’ll scare you away if he corrects you? Whatever it is he’ll never say, but one thing is for certain, he’s absolutely elated when you start to pick up the British dialect.
You tell people your boyfriend is a leftenant instead of a luitenant and he’s looking at you like you hung the very stars in the sky.
Ask for a “wife beater” while pointing at the bottles of Stella Artois in his fridge and he swears his heart just skipped a beat (despite the crude connotations of the nickname)
Ask him to pick up ‘Maccies for you bolth on the way home and he almost causes a 20 car pileup because he has to hide his burning face.
Tell him you like the black jumper he’s wearing and theres three more in the online cart already.
And when you start swearing like a “proper brit” he’s ready to get down on one knee. He hears you mutter “bloody hell” from across the flat as you listen to news report an expected  10cm of rain for today and for the first time in his life he’s thanking god Manchester is such a dreary place.
You’ve become part of his life, he hadn’t scared you off, you hadn’t gotten tired of him. You wanted to be here, you wanted him. You’ve been here long enough to pick it up, you’ve spent enough time together even your words are beginning to match each other, and theres nothing in the world that could make him happier. So he’ll never once correct you or tease you when you ask to go on a vacation even if he’s blindly nodding along to your requests and scurrying off to the bathroom later to look it up and figure out you wanted to go on holiday with him. Cursing under his breath while he fishes his phone from the sink because he dropped it in his shock at the revelation you wanted to go on holiday with him. Give him two days and he’s already bought the tickets
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l1tw1ck · 4 months ago
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Simeon's Devotion
Sub!Bottom!FTM!Priest Simeon x Dom!Top!AMAB!Holy Knight Reader
Word Count: 2,410
Reverend Simeon, plagued by sinful thoughts of a certain holy knight, is suddenly struck with a high fever and abandons his God
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AFAB Language Used | 2K Anniversary Request: For a Simeon Fic | [Breaking the Thermostat]
CW: Non-Con, Heavy Religious Themes, Dom/Sub, Virginity Loss, Bleeding, Size Difference, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Belly Bulge, Womb Fucking, Squirting, Creampie, Kidnapping
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You knock loudly against Simeon’s doors, heavily injured. You hear the sound of shuffling and see the lights turn on inside. Moments later, he opens the door for you.
Simeon calls out your name in shock. “What happened to you?!” He helps you inside.
“Ran into some demons..” You murmur, sitting down on his couch. “Can you heal me?”
“Of course!” Simeon hastily removes your clothes, leaving you in just an undershirt and boxers. You're both already used to this. “How many this time?”
“I wanna say…30?” You watch him kneel down and use his divine powers on your wounds.
“30?! Did something attract them?”
“I’m not sure. I was on patrol and everything seemed normal. The monsters looked strange too. They all looked like distorted versions of God and they were muttering things like ‘sinner’ and ‘dirty’.” 
“That's strange..”
“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You reach to rub your temple but Simeon quickly heals your headache. “Could I have something to eat? I know you're probably tired so something like crackers would be fine.”
“You need to eat a real meal. I don't mind cooking for you. You can sleep over too, all your clothes are washed.” Simeon finishes your last wound and stands up. It's very common for you to sleep over at Simeon’s due to exhaustion since demons usually show up on the outskirts of town and you live a bit further away. “Think you can take a shower?”
You stand up and groan, the sound making Simeon twitch. “I think so. Thanks, Simeon.”
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“God must be disappointed in you. So much for being a priest.” You say, staring at Simeon. He’s wearing sexy see through lingerie and an extravagant matching sheer silk robe. His legs are spread and he’s leaning against his bed frame. His tears are glistening against his cheeks, they’re shining like glitter. “You're nothing but a dirty sinner.” You move his panties aside.
Simeon looks at you, batting his eyelashes. Another tear falls down his cheek. “You’re my god now.”
“That’s right, baby. You’re mine.” You slowly begin to ease your cock inside him. “And I’m yours.” You press your hand against his pelvis, a pretty marking appearing on it.
Simeon suddenly wakes up moaning your name with his hand stuffed in his underwear. He gasps and yanks it out. He quickly wipes his hand on his clothes and begins to pray. “Please deliver me from temptation.” He repeats the same phrase over and over but as his body begins to grow hot, his prayer becomes strange.
“Please give me [Name]’s cock–” Simeon gasps and covers his mouth. “No…Forgive me— I need his co—” He covers his mouth again. He can't talk. He attempts to pray silently but that doesn't work either. It just makes him feel even more horny.
He begins to absentmindedly remove all of his clothes, his hands moving on their own to touch his wet pussy. He leans back, eyes out of focus, and begins to touch himself but he doesn't really know how. He just rubs his folds, which feel extremely sensitive. “I’m…I’m a sinner..” He mumbles, still out of it. “And a slut.”
“Only [Name] will accept me now.” Simeon brings his hand up to his tattoo and presses on it, a wave of pleasure flowing through him. 
He stumbles out of the bed and drunkenly walks to his guest room, where you’re sleeping. Knocking didn't cross his mind as he opened the door. 
“Si- Simeon?” You ask sleepily, sitting up. “Is something wrong?” You can't tell that he's naked. You move to sit on the side of the bed and squint at him.
“Yes..” He says quietly, stepping towards you. He kneels in between your legs. “I need you.”
“What?!” You recoil. “Are you okay? Are you drunk?”
“I’m not drunk.” Simeon presses kisses along your legs down to your feet. “I’ll do anything you want, [Name]. Anything.”
“I think you need to drink some water…you're not thinking straight.” You get off of the bed. As you try to head towards the door, Simeon stops you.
“I don’t need water, I need you.” He pulls you closer, he’s somehow stronger than before, and forces you into a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to pass on his ‘fever’ to you. Heat rushes through your body as your rational thoughts dispel like bubbles. He pulls away and looks at you lovingly. 
“Simeon...” You hold his chin, speaking with a loving tone. “How beautiful.” You mumble. He moans your name breathily.
“Kneel for me.” You order. Simeon kneels once again. You pull down your shorts and boxers at the same time. His eyes widen, hearts forming in them, when he sees your thick length. The process of becoming a Holy Knight can alter someone's body in major ways but he never knew it could change by this much. “Open your mouth.” You run your fingers through his hair.
Simeon opens his mouth and lets you slide your cock inside it. His mouth is unbelievably hot. He can feel the corners of his lips stretching to fit you. The thought of you stretching his pussy open next makes him moan. He stares into your eyes as you begin to thrust. You're sure they're glowing. 
“Your mouth feels amazing.” You moan. Simeon moans as well. “‘S perfect for me..” You speed up your thrusts. He happily allows you to fuck his mouth. He closes his eyes and focuses on your voice. He’s so aroused it's becoming painful.
You tighten your grip on his hair as your thrusts become unruly and desperate. He looks at you again, this time with tears in his eyes. But the tears aren't because he’s upset. “You look so pretty when you cry.” You groan as you come inside his mouth. You slowly pull away as Simeon swallows your seed without hesitation. You're still hard and you both want more. You pick him up and slam him onto the bed. Somehow, the both of you are able to see perfectly in the dark. Maybe it has something to do with the glow in your eyes.
You spread his legs and smile at how wet he is. The marking on his lower stomach glows faintly as you physically observe his pussy with your fingers. He squirms around cutely. You kneel in between his legs, mirroring what he did earlier, and bury your face into his pussy. Simeon moans. “Yes– oh- yes~!” He sucks in a breath. “[Name]~!” It's like he's ascended to heaven. 
You drag your tongue up to his clit and gently suck on it. It quickly and unnaturally swells in your mouth. It feels like he’s stuck on the edge of an orgasm, although it feels good nonetheless. You slip a finger into his hole and then another when you realize how easily it entered him, despite his tightness. “Ooh- oh, [Name]~” Simeon squeezes your fingers tightly as you attempt to finger him. The constant flexing of his walls make it difficult to move them but you don't mind. You’re more interested in how that’ll feel when you fuck him.
He can tell he's not going to come from this. He's not sure why, it feels like there's something blocking him from doing so. “Put…put your cock inside me, please~”
You smile and move away, standing back up. “Of course, my love.” You lick your lips and line up your cock with his pussy, slowly coating your tip with his slick. He bites down on his lip and uncontrollably twitches as you begin to sink into his sopping warmth. He throws his head back and grips the bed sheets while moaning shamelessly. You're barely inside him. His entire pussy is throbbing so heavily, it's almost like a second heartbeat. Blood soon spills from your penetration. 
The true representation of his sin.
He moans your name with his enchanting voice. Your cock ‘knocks’ on his cervix and strangely enough, it seems to be allowing your entrance. Like it wants you to enter his womb. You don't think about how that should be impossible and slide further inside him. “It feels– feels so—” He gasps, squirting. His eyelashes are fluttering rapidly.
“There you go, baby. Come for me.” You rub his clit with your thumb. He writhes around, no longer squirting but his cunt’s still squeezing you like crazy. He isn't able to think about anything at all, his brain is overloaded. The outline of his tattoo is becoming a bright blue. “Good boy…keep going.” You praise him.
Simeon wants to say your name again but he is completely unable to speak.
“Let’s make up for all your years of abstaining.” You start to thrust. He slowly comes back down to earth with each thrust you make. 
“Ah–” His eyes are sparkling with tears. “You’re so big…stretching me out~” 
“That’s right, I’m making your pussy fit the shape of my cock.” You slowly rub the bulge on his stomach, fucking him at a slow pace. “Your body’s gonna remember me and only me.”
“That's– that’s all I want~” Simeon moans. “Only you~”
“So pretty…” You brush his hair out of his face. He looks like a painting. You bring your hands to his waist and slowly build up to a faster pace. He reaches for you so you lean in. He wraps his arms around you.
“I love you.” He says in a shaky tone.
“I love you too.” You look into his eyes. For a brief moment, he realizes this isn't the real you, then he brushes it off. He feels strange. “My sweet Simeon.” You kiss him. The bed starts rocking due to your quickened thrusts. You separate from the kiss, some saliva dripping down his lip.
He looks down and notices the marking on his womb is glowing and the same color as his eyes. His desire has been satisfied. It’s all over. He looks up at you, suddenly shaking like a scared rabbit. The artificial light flickers out like a used lightbulb. He can't see you clearly anymore. The only lights are the glow in your eyes and the faint moonlight. “[Name]?” He asks.
“Hm?”
You're still…you’re not aware like he is. He suddenly feels disgusting. He forced you into this. Even if he wasn't completely conscious. He should tell you to stop, but he doesn't want to. Is it so wrong to want a little more? “I…I-” He stutters. “Come- come inside~” If he can't have you, maybe he can have a part of you.
You kiss his cheek. “Of course.” You come inside of him only moments later. It feels like he forced it out of you. You look at him with an exhausted but happy expression before passing out on top of him. He doesn't try to move you.
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You slowly wake up. You look around the room and notice a stain on the floor that you didn't notice before. And your bedsheets seem to be different too. You also feel a little strange. Refreshed, but strange. You get up and leave the guest room. You can smell coffee so you go down to the kitchen. “You're up pretty early. Don't you usually sleep in on Tuesdays?”
Simeon shrugs, not looking at you. “I felt like getting up early today.”
“Well, I’m not doing anything today. Maybe I’ll make breakfast this time?”
“It's okay. I’ll make it.”
“If you insist.” You know you can't convince him otherwise. “I wanna do something for you though. You deserve a gift.”
“Protecting my town is more than enough.”
“You’ll never change, huh?” You chuckle. “You know, the bed sheets look different from last night. Am I crazy?”
Simeon breaks the mug in his hand. You shoot up from your chair and rush over to him.
“I- I’m okay.” Simeon heals himself. “There wasn't anything in it yet.” 
“Good. You…seem weird today.” You notice he's not making eye contact with you.
“I..” He presses his forehead onto your chest and frowns, tears forming in his eyes. “I did something horrible last night.”
“What do you mean?” You bring him into a hug and gently rub his back to comfort him.
“Please…please don't hate me.”
“How could I hate you?”
“Last night…something strange came over me. I wasn't fully in control of myself and I forced you to…to..” He begins to sob.
“Simeon?” You ask, concerned.
“I forced you to have intercourse with me!” He blurts out, pulling away from you. He turns around and doesn't look at you.
You pause. “It must’ve been the work of a demon. It's okay, it's not your fault. It wasn't my ‘first time’ but…was it yours?”
Simeon’s eyes widen. “That wasn't your first?”
“No.”
He bites down on his nail. “When?”
“Um…maybe a decade ago?”
“Before you became a knight? And you haven't since then?”
“...Yes.” You assume he's uncomfortable due to his beliefs.
Simeon sighs. You were ‘reborn’ during your ceremony so you’re technically a virgin but you still have the experience. “Are you going to remain celibate?”
“I…well, I hope to find someone in the future. To marry, of course.”
“Oh.” He clenches his fist. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in?”
“I suppose I’ve caught a liking to Solomon, he—”
Simeon whips his head around. The look in his eyes is scary. “No.” He grabs your shirt. “No. You can't. You can't leave me.”
“Simeon?” You look at him in disbelief.
“I…I’m not letting you leave.”
Simeon looks at you sleeping peacefully on his bed. He isn't sure how, but he caused you to pass out and he was able to carry you here. He didn't even break a sweat. Due to a holy knight’s ability to neutralize certain forms of demon magic, Simeon is sure he isn't using that as you would've been fine if he was. But that leaves more questions to be answered.
He slides his hand down to his lower stomach and touches the glowing blue mark on his womb. It hasn't gone away. What is it? If it's not demonic then is it holy? How could this be holy?
He gently caresses your face. “I’m sorry, but I can't allow you to leave.”
You’ll be missed in the order of the holy knights but no one will worry when Simeon tells everyone he has bigger plans for you.
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readwritealldayallnight · 10 days ago
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FINAL Part of the Wife at First Sight series (18+ MDNI)
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Happy New Years Eve!!! I cannot believe we’ve made it to the end! Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think my random lil drabble would be so loved and would eventually grow into this
Thank you for all the love and support and especially for your patience in between uploads! Hope this last part doesn’t disappoint!!
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Between the adrenaline coursing through your veins and the defeaning sound of blood pumping in your ears combined with the whimpers escaping your open mouth, you fail to hear just how lighthearted Simon’s chuckle is from between your thighs
He can’t get enough of you like this, his girl, his sweetheart, his love, his wife, all desperate and needy for him, and yet he’s barely touched you
At least not properly anyway
Much to your current dismay
Finding the rec room empty at this late night hour, the two of you huddled up on what you so kindly reminded him was a shared couch, he’s taking the opportunity alone to tease the absolute shit out of you
What had started as an arm slung casually over your shoulder, turned into his other hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on your knee, which led to his large, warm palm slowly stroking up and down your thigh, reaching higher and higher each time until he was slipping his fingers beneath the skirt of your dress, digits barely skimming the edge of your underwear beneath
His eyes are fixated on your face the entire time, drinking in each and every expression you make for him, wishing he could forever remember the way you look as you try not to give in entirely to the pleasure he’s bringing you
It was a losing battle to begin with, but when Simon’s fingers cease rubbing against the increasingly damp spot in your panties, and instead pull the sticky fabric aside just as your man slides off the couch and lands on his knees in between your thighs, you give up the fight for decency entirely
He absolutely revels in the gasp that leaves your lips as his broad shoulders push against your thighs, demanding their rightful place between your legs, his eyes still locked on yours as his face moves closer and closer to your hot center
“Simon,” You don’t mean for your words to sound so much like a plea as they pass your lips, but Simon and his skilled hands have you brain all foggy. “We don- we don’t have ti- time. They’re suppo- supposed to be coming so-”
Your words are lost and forgotten as he tugs his balaclava up just high enough to plant a chaste kiss to your soaked folds. Your fingers quickly tug the mask the rest of the way off his head, feeling the smirk on his face when you snake your fingers through his messy locks.
“You’re the only one I want comin’ right now, love.” He murmurs against your inner thigh, planting small kisses against the sensitive skin, chuckling softly when he feels your fingers gently tugging him back towards where you want him most
He widens his tongue to run through your dripping folds, tasting your lust for him straight from the source. You can’t help the moan that leaves you any more than you can control the way your legs instinctually widen further for him, your body relaxing deeper into the couch cushions as Simon sets to work on you, his own groan of satisfaction vibrating through you
“Si, oh my god, Simon.” His name is the only thing your brain can comprehend as his mouth skillfully brings you closer and closer to that tantalizing edge, that falling off a cliff feeling where you know Simon is waiting at the bottom to catch you, if only to bring you right back to the peak again
His lips are wrapped around your sensitive, throbbing nub, causing you to nearly see stars behind your eyelids as one of his hands lets go of their strong grip on your thigh, bringing it instead to gently circle a large finger at your sopping entrance before he sinks it in entirely, evoking yet another beautiful moan from above him
His attention on you is wholly undivided, his dedication to your pleasure unmatched as he works you up higher, especially after all that teasing he put you through earlier, you both know your climax is rapidly approaching, and his impressive stamina means he is nowhere near stopping his efforts
You can feel him teasing a second finger at your hole, but it’s just as he slips it in with the first one, combined with a skilled sucking at your clit from his mouth, that you quickly stumble over that edge, temporarily blinded by the feeling of ecstasy he gives you, his ministrations never slowing as he prolongs your climax
It’s not until the ringing in your ears begins to fade and you come back down to earth, that you slowly push his head away from you, hearing another kind of ringing echoing through the room
“Si, your phone.” You murmur between panting breaths, still absentmindedly running your fingers through his hair, feeling the slight sweat breaking out along his scalp
“What if I wan’ another one out o’ you, huh?” He asks, planting a kiss to your knee, though his hand is already reaching towards his back pocket.
“What if I want to marry you, huh?” You quip back, knowing who’s likely on the phone, raising a playful brow in his direction paired with a teasing smile which he gladly returns.
“Yes?” Simon asks, putting the phone to his ear put keeping his eyes on you as you attempt to put yourself back together, straightening out your skirt and fixing your hair, hoping it wasn’t too obvious you just got devoured by a Lieutenant on the common room couch
“Well if you two lovebirds dinnae mind, some o’ us would like to get this show started!” You can hear the strong accented voice say through the line, giggling softly as Simon rolls his eyes at the Sergeant.
“Captain’s arrived?” He questions as he finally stands up, extending a hand to you to help you up as well. “Alrigh’ Johnny, we’ll meet you at the spot.” Barely waiting for a reply, Simon is sliding the phone back in his pocket and giving his attention back to you, promises of finishing this later and reciting vows between your thighs dying on his tongue when he sees the sparkle in your eye at hearing him mention the spot.
Before he had ever officially proposed, he knew where he wanted it to happen, and when you had mentioned you weren’t too particular about location, he’d suggested his idea, elated when he saw your grin and knew you agreed
He wanted to marry you, to make you his wife and to become your husband, in the very spot you first met
That very same hallway on base where you’d nearly run into him and unknowingly started a fire in his heart that has yet to go out, the flame growing bigger and brighter each day
That very same spot, which to anyone else appears to be like any other hallway on the base, but to Simon it represents so much more
It’s the spot where his eyes landed on you for the first time and he knew his life would never be the same, where he watched you smile at him and came to terms with the fact that he would never know peace again until he knew your name
And now, he holds your hand in his, walking together towards that same spot, now with the intention of changing your last name
There wasn’t much either of you needed as far as a wedding goes, you weren’t keen on having anything extravagant or grand, as long as it ended in you both being married, you’d be overjoyed to simply go to the courthouse
Each of you had only one request, you wanted to wear a simple white dress, which Simon had happily bought for you without allowing you to see the price tag, and Simon wanted the Captain to officiate the ceremony
While Price had been more than pleased to be asked something so special, he hadn’t been quite as keen on receiving a call on his personal cell from his Lieutenant during his holidays, asking (if not downright pleading with him-) if he could return sooner rather than later to marry them, only half joking that they really would just run away to a courthouse if he wasn’t back by the end of the year
Which is where you find yourselves now, on a practically empty military base during the end of the holiday season, most everyone gone to celebrate with their families and loved ones, meanwhile your handful of loved ones have gathered here, the very closest location and soonest time the Captain could return to make this all official, with only a few minutes until midnight on none other than New Years Eve
As you turn the corner together, a faint blush spreads through your cheeks at Johnny’s low whistle and Kyle’s cheering. Even John’s sporting an enthusiastic grin on his visage, arms crossed across his chest as they watch the couple approach
It feels nearly too good to be true, nothing short of a dream come true, as you turn to face Simon, your soft, smaller hands held steadily in his larger, calloused ones, eyes locked on the other as they speak all the love you hold for each other than no word in any language could ever properly express
Having seen their stoic Lieutenant fall head over heels for you from the very get go, the lads feel downright honoured to be here, witnessing the start of your new lives together, the moment where Simon officially makes you his wife after all
No one present can deny that it is truly something out of a fairytale, when both vows are said, love is expressed and devotion is promised, Price is able to officially declare you married as husband and wife, and when your lips come crashing together in your first kiss as a married couple, it happens to be right when the clock strikes midnight, and fireworks erupt in a blaze of glory and passion outside
Because in the end, as complicated as the journey (or downright painfully obvious some might say but ya know-) to get to this point in your relationship might have been, the love between you both could not be simpler
He had loved you from the very moment you walked into his life, from the moment your eyes glanced up and instantly met his, from the moment you opened your mouth and he heard the voice he knew he would do anything to continue hearing for the remainder of his days
While you yourself had been immediately enamoured with the tall man who first introduced himself as your husband, believing his advances to be a playful joke everyone but you was in on, you couldn’t help the way your heart fell for him faster than you could wrap your head around, showered in his unapologetic affections and undivided attention from the very start
But as soon as Simon took that leap of faith, opening himself up and being truthfully vulnerable with you, he couldn’t understand what he’d been waiting all this time for
Not when he now knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that was the luckiest man on this earth, to be able to love you and somehow, you loved him too
Not when he was able to knock down that final barrier, to literally rip the mask off and just be him, a feeling he still could hardly explain
How does he put into words the fact that he feels more human, more whole, more him, just from being near you?
He’s never had this before, never experienced something this profound and earth shattering, both terrifying and exhilarating. Does everyone feel this way? Is everyone who claims to be in love also going through the motions of having their heart willingly ripped out of their chest and put into the hands of another, just to have it gently put back in better than it was before?
No, he doesn’t believe everyone feels this
This love, is only between the two of you, for the two of you
He knows there can’t be anyone else out there who has it this good
Especially when considering, Simon is the only one who gets to call you his wife
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And just like that folks, Wife at First Sight is wrapped up!!!
I really hope it doesn’t disappoint anyone, and leaves everyone feeling as happy as all your kind comments on this story have made me!
I seriously never anticipated for this story to become a series, let alone for it to have received as much love as it has, so again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all the love, the comments, the patience, everything!
I would absolutely be down to write more about these two, especially if you have any prompts or ideas to suggest, but we’re going to call this the end of the official series, anything else that might come will be nice little add ons
- M🫶🏻
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lieahsblog · 10 months ago
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i’ve run out of smart words and metaphors, just please please help this father from gaza evacuate his son for treatment. the goal is $15k please help them reach this ASAP.
EDIT: UPDATED campaign link for Fadi has been posted so keep scrolling. I also posted the campaign link of razan(see pinned) who’s mother needs treatment. Razan’s campaign has fallen under the radar so please share and donate. Please scroll and read the whole post for the crucial info. thanks for sharing!
EDIT: CAN YOU ALL PLEASE AMPLIFY MY PINNED AS WELL!! PLEASE SHARE THIS POST BUT ALSO MY PINNED POST!!!!!!! ITS URGENT SO DONT IGNORE. DONT KNOW HOW MANY OTHER WAYS TO TELL YOU. RAZANS FAMILY STILL NEEDS TO GO TO EGYPT SO PLEASE SHARE MY PINNED AND DONATE!!!!! THERE NEEDS TO BE DONATIONS, REBLOGS ALONE CANT PAY FOR THEIR REGISTRATION TO LEAVE. DONATE PLEASE
edit: are u guys even reading the edits. AMPLIFY RAZANS CAMPAIGN. ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️
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UPDATE TO EVERYONE REBLOGGING: Fadi and his family have evacuated to egypt now. They still need to cover living expenses AND his medical expenses for his son so this is Fadi’s new campaign: https://www.gofundme.com/f/brain-surgery-of-a-sixyearold-child-due-atrophy?utm_campaign=p_cp+share-sheet&utm_medium=chat&utm_source=whatsApp
this is Fadi’s p@yp@l to help with their living expenses: https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=GLVYEA82FPMX2
MORE URGENT INFO: I would like to add that another family needs your help. I’ve made several posts about Razan’s family(including her mother who needs treatment) and this campaign has fallen under the radar. their goal is $50k and they have not raised even half. we really need to pick up the slack, so i would like to please ask everyone to donate to razan’s campaign AND find a friend to match your donation!! one you have done so, please make your own post about razan’s campaign and share it with all your mutuals. we need this campaign to have so much more visibility so please join me in amplifying and #floodthedash4razan!! let’s work together and help razan and her family. give some love, support and donations towards razan’s campaign‼️‼️ I would like to direct everyone to please AMPLIFY and share Razan’s campaign(please also checked my pinned where you can see more about her campaign!!) i will also share her campaign in this post, again please show some support and amplify and donate to her:
Thank you all for sharing!
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rapturously · 1 month ago
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“ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒. ”
⠀ཾ༵ 𑁍┆ paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.
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┆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: an encounter with a familiar face at the boardwalk’s video store leads to a night you’ll never forget.
˹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.0K.
˹ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut (mdni), porn with plot, loss of virginity (reader), vampire antics, hint of bloodplay, paul thinks about killing the reader (briefly), dirty talk, making out, pet names, breast play, hair-pulling kink, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, scent kink, groping, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, finger sucking (brief), catching feelings, cumplay, cliffhanger ending.
˹ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this was a really good way to come back! I am trying to improve my writing and I felt like this was a good warm-up for what’s to come! I hope you guys enjoy! thanks for your support!
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SALTWATER KISSES PEPPER AGAINST YOUR CHEEKS WITH THE GENTLE ROLL OF THE TIDE, WHERE THE OCEAN BRUSHES WITH THE SANDY SHORES OF SANTA CARLA. BONFIRES FLICKER THROUGH A STARLIT DUSK, SURROUNDED BY THE SWAYING BODIES OF ROWDY BEACHGOERS.
Smoke stings your nostrils, the pungent haze of marijuana intermingled with scorched driftwood. A seaside breeze drifts across your shoulders, barely covered with a chiffon shawl as you search the growing crowds for your friends.
Santa Carla was unlike anything you’d experienced before, a nocturnal den crawling with so many unfamiliar faces. You had moved here during the peak of summertime, where school wasn’t in-session and each evening was an endless party.
The lukewarm bottle of Redhook swayed within your hand, half-consumed as you tossed it into the nearest bin. Your steps are sluggish as you wander along the beachfront, finding yourself drawn into the fray of a bustling crowd.
It was almost a different place altogether — day versus dusk, where the boardwalk transformed into a haven for the misbegotten. Wedging yourself into the crowd, you catch a glimpse of some local hair-band performing on the stage.
A hand grabs at your hip, causing you to yelp as you swivel, meeting the exuberant eyes of your friend, Chloe. “There you are!” She exclaimed, nose crinkling in amusement. “Jesus, you scare easily!”
With a nettled huff, you turn, noticing the glossy sheen within her gaze — too much to drink. “You grabbed me,” You insisted, barely able to hear her over the rancor of the crowd. “What’s going on?” Your inquiry nearly dissipated into the background.
“Devin wants to check out that stupid video store, do you want to come with? It shouldn’t be long!” Chloe chimed, catching the wandering eye of some sleaze through the crowd. She waved, but you seemed entirely disinterested.
“Yeah, it’s getting too loud over here,” Following her lead, she grasped ahold of your hand, polished nails snagging on your bracelet. There is a noticeable sashay in her steps. “How much have you had to drink?”
“God, you sound like my mother! I’ve had a few, but I’m fine! Devin is taking me home,” She mused, and you happened to roll your eyes. The position of matriarchal friend had involuntarily fallen to you, not that you minded. “Come on!”
Shuffling through the sand, you make your way up a flight of wooden steps, and you are thankful for the distraction. The rancor of rock music dissipates, devolving into the ambiance of fairgoers and stereos, instead.
Before you moved to California, you wouldn’t have dared to set foot in a place like this — but age and assurance bolstered your confidence. You enjoyed going out to these beachside promenades, even if it wasn’t always your scene.
The eclectic nightlife and view of the beach were satisfactory enough for you, with enough entertainment to last a lifetime. Neon lights from overhanging signs buzz with shades of pink and green, blanketing the boardwalk in an array of vibrant colors.
Video Max was a hotspot in Santa Carla — you’d been there more times than you could count since the move. The idle hum of Corey Hart filled the silence, trickling in over the store’s radio as Chloe hauled you inside.
Devin waved from across the shelves, clutching a copy of John Carpenter’s Halloween in his hand. “Thought you guys got lost!” He piped up, offering you a friendly smile. He was a good friend, and you’d been trying to nudge him toward Chloe since you joined the group.
“Almost,” You mused, feeling Chloe release you from her vice-like hold. It allowed you to peruse the shelves, absentmindedly scanning for any movie that happened to snag your attention. “Halloween isn’t for a few months.”
With a snort, Devin waved a hand in dismissal. “Never too early for scary movies,” For a moment, you watched his gaze shift elsewhere, past you and toward the door. “Jesus, have you ever seen anything like that before?”
Perplexed, you couldn’t help yourself, attempting to crane your head to peer over your shoulder. Much to your chagrin, your staring wasn’t entirely subtle, directed toward the group of guys filing into the video store.
Eccentric was certainly a term to describe the four, who moved in an eerie synchronization, like a pack of wolves prowling for prey. At the helm, the platinum-blonde bore a smug smirk, leading his flock into the fray, closely followed by the dark-haired one, whose expression was indiscernible.
The blonde pair reminded you of chortling hyenas, with the shorter one maintaining a curly mullet and a cheshire grin. It was the taller blonde with crazed tresses that ensnared your attention, his hair disheveled, reminding you of a lion’s mane. His overcoat and stressed, white jeans stuck out like a sore thumb.
The Boardwalk Boys — their infamy was something of a legend in Santa Carla, according to Chloe.
Through parted lips, you turned away, knowing you’d ogled for far too long. Instead, you made small talk with Devin and Chloe, tugging your shawl tighter around your shoulders. “Hey, how long are you guys planning on sticking around?”
“Not sure,” Devin rubbed the back of his neck, nearly catching Chloe from swaying into one of the shelves. “Might need to get this one home, as soon as possible.” He sighed, tone indicative of playfulness instead of exasperation.
“No,” Chloe whined, hanging upon Devin’s arm with an exaggerated pout. She glanced at you, eyes alight with bewilderment and intrigue before she leaned over, ushering you closer. “C’mere.” She whispered.
Concerned, you leaned over conspiratorially, palms planted against the top of the shelf. “You are painfully drunk,” You murmured, unable to mask your laughter as she patted your cheek, manicured nails tapping at your skin. “What, what’s wrong?”
“He’s staring at you,” She murmured, and before you could try to turn and look, she held you in-place. “The blonde one with the stupid overcoat, he keeps checking you out.” Chloe snickered, wiggling her eyebrows.
“What?” The bitter sting of disbelief rippled throughout your chest, a crippling denial that often permeated most of your interactions with boys. You found it hard to believe that one of them would have an inkling of interest.
Devin appeared mildly worried, throat bobbing as he dipped closer, brows furrowing together. “Twisted Sister motherfucker,” He uttered, confirming Chloe’s observations with one snarky remark alone. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you.”
Swallowing the growing lump within your throat, a bundle of nerves made residence within your stomach, gooseflesh raking across your spine. Your resolve splintered at the seams, perspiration breaking out upon your palms.
It was almost as if you could feel his gaze boring a hole through you, a heat so foreign and intense that your throat grew tight. In an attempt to relieve a sliver of anxiousness, you picked at your bracelet, gritting your teeth together.
“Should I say something?” There wasn’t anything inherently malicious about the stranger’s oppressive stare, but you could feel it. Chloe shook her head, prepared to encourage you to go and talk to him until the sound of voices grew closer.
Your streak of charisma seemed to wither then and there, shriveling away like dying leaves. Words turned to ash upon your tongue as the blonde happened to approach, lingering a shelf away as to appear inconspicuous.
“He’s cute,” Chloe slurred, a mischievous twinkle within her eye, a subtle hint for you to relax. Devin appeared less than enthused with her astute observation, but let it rest. “Definitely say something.”
“We need to get you home,” Devin murmured, a twinge of suspicion rippling through him. Anyone who frequented Santa Carla knew about the Boardwalk Boys, but one look alone, and something about them was unsettling. “You okay?”
Steeling yourself, you happened to nod, offering Devin a nervous smile. “Peachy.” With a steady exhale, you turned around, greeted by the wolfish grin of the lion’s mane blonde. He looked as if he had been ripped straight from a metal band, with some savage element to him.
Cerulean hues pierced through your own, stale cologne wafting from him. The cropped, mesh top he wore beneath the seemingly-archaic overcoat caught your eye, offering a teasing glimpse of his musculature.
He was unlike anyone you’d seen before, something peculiar — a wild card, whose charisma bled through from his grin alone. “Kept wonderin’ if you were gonna hide from me,” He crooned, head canting to one side. “I’m not mean and scary, promise.”
“Sorry,” Through a mumbled apology, you felt your features warm, as if you’d stepped into an open flame. Something about his very presence seemed to latch its talons into you. “I guess I got a little shy.” You confessed.
“Nah, don’t worry about it,” His attention shifted to Devin and Chloe. “You mind if I steal her from you?” There was an unusual sincerity within his tone, laced with amusement. “S’long as it’s good with you, ‘course.”
Unexpected chivalry was the last thing you envisioned from this stranger, but you weren’t about to protest, glancing at Devin and Chloe. “You should probably take Chloe home,” You prompted, chewing at the inside of your cheek. “Tell her to call me tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Devin nodded, partially carrying Chloe against his side. “Be careful, okay?” His pointed statement was primarily directed at your new companion, who playfully crossed his hand over his chest.
“Swear on my life, bro.” His lopsided smirk and chortling was borderline infectious, hues glittering with bemusement as Devin nodded, albeit begrudgingly. You watched as your friends departed Video Max, leaving you to your present company.
Flicking a nail across your bracelet, your attention resumed its full concentration on the man before you, whose wicked style intrigued you. “What’s your name?” Introductions were more awkward than not, but he seemed well-adept at navigating these things.
“Paul, but you can call me anything you want.” His flirtatious nature wasn’t lost upon you, precocious like a playful imp. He stepped closer, leaning against one of the shelves in a casanova manner, eyes beginning to crinkle.
He was endlessly charming, even if you found his pick-up lines to be somewhat outdated. A brief huff of laughter escaped you as you extended your hand, treating him to a sweet smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Paul.”
Your name was freshly emblazoned on his mind, with no intention of fading away. There was something inherently tender about you, a warmth rarely found in this pit of depravity. He liked that, your innocence — it was hard to control himself.
Piety brought out the predator in Paul, whose boisterous personality was something of a magnet to you. Admittedly, he hadn’t seen you before — put a face to a name, let it drive him insane. Your smell was tantalizing, a rich concoction that made him salivate.
Paul stepped closer, weaving around the shelf’s corner as he made residence within your space. Your brief inspection of his attire brought about a multitude of peculiarities, from the tarnished medals clipped to his jacket, to the tattered holes across his white jeans.
“Real nice to meet you, babe,” He crowed, hues shamelessly flickering over your frame. There was a softness to you, unspoiled and supple, akin to some gift that he longed to unwrap. “Wanna ditch this place, head outside?”
The innocuous pet name was merely an extension of his flirtation, something you reveled in. Molten heat swirled within the pit of your stomach, like a flock of butterflies, making you preen with excitement. “Yeah, why not?”
Lodging a toothpick between his teeth, Paul threw an arm around you, palm gently pressing against the small of your back as he guided you outside. The friends he’d come in with glowered as he passed, causing you to subconsciously move into Paul’s side.
As dusk furthered into the later hours, the hour of the bat, the crowds had started to thin. A cluster of scrappy motorcycles sat several feet away, along the wooden bannister. “Don’t mind my brothers, they’re just jealous.”
Brothers? The thought is perplexing — there isn’t much of a resemblance between the four of them, but you settle on the logical path of adoption.
“Jealous?” Incredulity ripples through your tone, as saccharine as sugar. Paul snickers, amused by your own obliviousness — it’s sweet, your humility, but he doesn’t seem surprised. “Why?”
“Why d’you think?” Paul steered you toward the bannister, making himself comfortable at your side. A feeble heat wafted from you, accompanied by the thick haze of your scent. It stung his nostrils, producing a dull burn within his throat.
“Oh,” He got the girl, you think, folding your arms to let them perch atop the railing. “I’ve heard about you guys — the Boardwalk Boys. I didn’t know I’d be speaking to a celebrity tonight.” You teased, tone jocular.
Through a guffaw and a wild grin, Paul nearly bumped his hip into you, twisting the toothpick between his teeth. “We got a bad reputation for bein’ troublesome,” He mused. “Hope you’re not thrown off by that.”
“I’m not,” You insisted, despite your initial hesitation. Casting judgment on someone you knew little about wasn’t fair — and Paul was the most intriguing person you’d spoken to thus far. “Where do you and your brothers live?”
“Don’t have a house,” Paul seemed nonchalant about this fact, placing a boot up upon one of the lower rungs. “We jus’ live in a cave on Hudson’s Bluff — party and slum it.” He noticed the look of astonishment on your face. “Totally legal, by the way.”
Through a furrowed brow and warm features, you canted your head to one side. “You live in a cave? Doesn’t that get —”
“Dangerous?” Paul interjected, grinning like the cat who’d caught the canary. He slithered closer, throwing an arm around your shoulders, ring-adorned fingers tracing over your arm. “Nothing about me is tame, baby.”
Biting back a hiccup, you felt yourself becoming unabashedly smitten, chewing at the inside of your cheek. There was nothing civilized and demure about Paul, who was as wild and unpredictable as they came. The juxtaposition to your pious demeanor clashed with his — in a good way.
Paul thoroughly enjoyed living on the edge, an amalgamation of all things untamed and dangerous. Recklessness was fun for him, like the thrill of the hunt. Sometimes, he let the human facade slip enough to rouse suspicion — David didn’t like that.
His touch was akin to a stab of ice, even through your chiffon shawl. A brief gasp rippled through you at the foreign sensation, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Swallowing your nervousness, you happened to stay put, gaze drifting to meet cerulean irises.
“I’m not afraid, if that’s what you’re worried about,” In a valiant attempt to show a sliver of boldness, you found yourself wanting to impress Paul. “I think I can handle it.” Your insistence was cute to Paul, whose nose wrinkled instead.
“I like that fire you got, but you’re shakin’ like a leaf,” Paul teased, reveling in the flustered look plastered onto your visage. Before you could avert your eyes, he reached to tilt your chin toward him, as playful as could be. “You’re real pretty.”
Jesus, he was smooth — a crazed charm that was akin to a siren’s song, dragging you into the depths of his ocean. Compliments accompanied by his suaveness and fleeting touches made your nerves blaze with exhilaration.
Having melted the barrier of strangeness between you both, Paul hovered above you, leaning inward to sniff at your tresses. It was an amalgamation of all things sweet — from something floral to a hint of honey and vanilla.
“You’re …” Ensnared within his incendiary gaze, you found yourself unable to find the words, as if they ceased to exist. A beat of silence gripped you as you considered what to say. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met.”
Most girls he sunk his teeth into weren’t so mesmerized — and if they were, they were often beneath his hypnotic spell. Your awe and bewilderment appeared to be genuine.
Paul laughed, the sound vibrating through him, ripping clean through his throat. He thoroughly enjoyed how smitten you were with him, and the innocuous attention was something he chased after. “You think so?”
Flicking the toothpick aside, Paul noticed the coy smile tugging at either corner of your mouth. It was easy to dip into the recesses of your mind, dig into each crevice for answers, but he chose not to. The unpredictability of it all enticed him.
“Yeah, you just … You’re very fearless, and bold. You don’t care what anybody else thinks of you.” If only you were confident enough to take a page out of his book, you might’ve been the same way. “It’s very attractive.” Your confession emerged as a soft-spoken utterance.
Unable to suppress his growing smirk, Paul’s lips neared the shell of your ear. “You hitting on me?” He purred, able to catch a whiff of your pheromones. It was a wave of something feminine, making his blood boil with anticipation.
The boardwalk became incredibly dismal, mere ambiance serving as a backdrop for your conversation with Paul. You cared little for curfew, little for going home. “I am,” With a steady exhale, you straightened your posture. “Is that okay?”
“Fuck, ‘course it’s okay,” Paul mumbled, lips brushing across the shell of your ear, causing gooseflesh to ice your spine. A clammy chill spread along the back of your neck, breath hitching within your throat. “Prettiest girl here.”
Whispered praise raked hot embers along your spine, causing your stomach to roll with waves of excitement. You were terrified to touch him, lips agape as he tilted your chin, forcing you to hold his stare.
“You’re sweet,” You murmured, tone wrought with disbelief as you mustered a smile, dazzled by Paul’s beguiling visage. His closeness was marked by the unusual chill of his flesh, the brush of his mesh-clad chest against yours. “Paul.”
“Should ditch this place, baby,” Paul’s breath fanned across your mouth, his scent a strange conglomerate of marijuana, sun-dried carrion, and stale cologne to mask it all. “Come and check out the cave.”
A sliver of your being sensed danger, as if your hackles bristled at the thought of going somewhere completely secluded with him. It was easy to dismiss your twinge of paranoia as nervousness, and you did just that.
“I’ll go with you.” With a brief exhale, you nodded in agreement, earning the delight of Paul, who seemed incredibly pleased. His bark of a laugh reverberated throughout his chest as he planted a sloppy kiss against your cheek.
“C’mon, I’ll give you a lift,” His outstretched hand invited you toward his scrappy motorcycle, which seemed similar to a dirt-bike instead of a true Harley or Indian. “I’m a safe driver.”
Despite his faux assurances and oozing charm, some sliver of you felt uneasy. It would just be the both of you, which seemed infinitely more comfortable than having his brothers around.
Paul’s grin never diminished, glinting through the encroaching dark as he settled onto the bike, ensuring that you were situated behind him. “I don’t know if I believe you.” You mused, relieving some of the tension.
His laugh made you smile, like the cackle of a coyote — nothing tame about him. Despite his carefree nature, you enjoyed his company, savored the sense of liberation you felt with him. There wasn’t a need to perform, only exist as you were.
“Believe it, baby, we’re goin’ for a ride,” He mused, revving his bike with a noisy howl. Before he could spin off of the boardwalk, you immediately lurched forward, arms hooking around his midsection. “Might wanna hold on tight.”
Seaborne wind whipped against your cheeks, the night chill seeping into your bones. The silver glow of the moon sparkled across the ocean, framing Paul’s tresses in an eerie light. He was frenzied, screaming into the twilight as he drove across the beach.
A shudder of ecstasy raked across your spine, exhilaration fueled by a stab of fear. You clung to him like a drowning woman, digits tangled into the mesh, feeling the icy plane of his abdomen beneath.
A sharp inhale fluttered within your lungs when Paul’s bike hopped over a log, causing you to tense with anticipation. There was something maddening about his driving — recklessness, excitement, the thrill of the night.
The boardwalk faded into the background, mere sparkling lights in the distance, now dissipated. Hudson’s Bluff was a sprawling forest before one made it to the cliffside, barren with dirt and a sparse tree. The rocky incline that led to the mouth of the cave was steep and jagged.
“Home sweet home,” Paul crowed, guiding his bike toward the mess of boards, caution tape, and flotsam. Driftwood had washed up onto shore, with tattered tarps partially strewn across the cave’s entrance. “Didn’t scare you, did I?”
As he dismounted, he noticed the startled look upon your face, akin to a baby deer lost in the thicket. It seemed to fade once your feet landed upon slick rocks, waves kissing the sediment-laden shores. “Only a little.” You confessed.
Paul snickered, offering you a ring-adorned hand as he wound closer to you, planting a sly kiss along the back of your ear. “Sorry, baby. Didn’t mean to,” He murmured, able to detect the spike of warmth in your blood, the hitch of your breath. “You’ll love it down here.”
The cavernous abyss of the cave’s mouth made you shiver, your grip on Paul’s hand becoming uncomfortably snug as he led you down. It was all uneven and perilous, the cave marked by overhanging foliage, moss, and rocky outcroppings.
Within the underbelly of their home, it became somewhat cozy, strewn in countless trappings of the present time, intermingled with that of the past. There were many huge posters of various bands, a portion of the cave carved off for their bikes and workshopping scrap.
“Did something fall underground here?” You asked, noticing the dilapidated fountain in the center of the cave, where slivers of moonlight crept through. Sweeping a digit over the old stone, you collected a century’s worth of dust.
“Used to be an old hotel back in the day, before it collapsed. Some sinkhole or somethin’, David knows the whole story,” Paul replied, tossing a torch into one of the barrels. “I didn’t listen to much of it.” He chortled, gaze fixated upon you.
Worn tapestries hung from the scaling ceilings, crimson velvet tarnished by the passage of time. Much of the decor was an amalgamation from the past and the present, worlds colliding in the depths of the cave.
“It doesn’t bother you, living here?” Perhaps your question might’ve passed as judgmental, but you were simply curious. Paul hopped up onto the ledge of the fountain, able to look down upon you.
“Nah. You get used to it,” Sauntering along the edge, he jerked his head toward another alcove of the cave. “Wanna see my place? Best part of the cave.” He mused, jumping down to land right in front of you.
You began to relax, allowing yourself to lower your guard with Paul. Vulnerability began to waft from you, a semblance of comfort that you couldn’t quite place. “Yeah, I’d love to.” Warmth crept along your spine when he took your hand again.
The cave was much bigger than you thought, with sprawling passageways, alcoves, and concealed grottos that didn’t make themselves known. Paul’s ‘room’ was nothing more than a dip in the rock, shrouded by gaudy velvet curtains.
It smelled of marijuana and a hint of cologne, accompanied by mildew and moisture. Disheveled sheets were strewn across a mattress, metal posters covering most of the rock. Mötley Crüe, Cinderella, Warrant, Scorpions, Judas Priest — Paul had an excellent taste in music.
“You’re really into music, aren’t you?” A brief bubble of laughter emerged from your lips as you gestured toward the posters. His stereo and cassette tapes sat atop a rickety vanity, mirror smashed and missing half of the glass.
“Yeah. I play guitar,” Paul was merely a novice, but he wasn’t the worst player in the world. “Metal not your speed?” He mused, gauging your response. Marko labeled him as a music snob, not that he could help it.
“No, I enjoy it. My parents are pretty strict on it, though,” You mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Most of his belongings were scattered — strewn about the room or stacked into disorganized piles. “I like it here.”
Upon first glance, Paul saw you as a meal, a plaything, a means to an end. He intended on feeding from you, given how saccharine your scent happened to be. Blood was blood, but it did have a certain bouquet and viscosity, varying from person to person.
Now, he was beginning to have a change of heart.
Humans were disposable, nothing — piles of warm meat with a bloodstream, something to consume and discard once he had his fill. It was a callous way to think of it, but he wasn’t concerned with the livelihood of a stranger.
Despite the supernatural appeal he had, especially towards you, whatever unconscious effect you possessed was beginning to impact him. Paul lacked the desire to feast, to kill. Instead, it was simply that — the desire to be with you.
For a moment, he considered turning you himself — being like him, an eternal statue bound to his side. Then again, Paul obtained some sick thrill from toying with your humanity, seeing how far he could push his limits.
The fiery burning within his throat became nothing more than background noise, replaced with baser, carnal instincts. Paul’s jaw tensed, and he watched in rapturous silence as you picked up a Def Leppard cassette.
“Wanna listen?” Paul asked, noticing the flicker of excitement within your eyes. Coming from a religious background, rock music was demonized in your household — this was a much-needed break for you.
“If you don’t mind.” Beaming, you couldn’t help but warm as Paul plucked the tape from your hands, hovering beside you as he placed it into the stereo. Love Bites wasn’t exactly a clean song, and Paul snickered at the coincidental lyrics.
With a theatrical groan, he rocked back onto his mattress, listening to the squeak of the springs protest his weight. Paul let himself bask in the moment, tossing his overcoat somewhere toward the alcove’s entrance.
A pang of attraction rippled through you at the sight of him, spread wide with his arms planted behind him, mane of hair making him look like a rockstar. You stood with the shrewdness of a mouse, picking at the frayed stitching of your shawl.
Paul loved your innocence — it made you wildly gorgeous in ways that made his skin crawl. Cerulean hues shamelessly flickered across your form, lips quirked into a lopsided smirk.
“When are you gonna stop bein’ shy and come sit on my lap?” The sharp question was enough to make your knees wobble, heat beginning to pool within the pit of your stomach. Your doe-eyed stare flew to Paul, who seemed entirely unbothered.
Gawking as if he’d asked something offensive, you let your bewilderment show. “What?” It felt like some raunchy dream you’ve had before, but this was reality.
“You heard me,” Paul crooned, extending one hand in your direction. “C’mere.” Fuck, he could smell you — the familiar scent of feminine arousal struck his senses like a gut-punch, causing him to salivate. It was going to be a fight to control himself.
Nervousness dissipated into excitement as you abandoned your lingering insecurities, shuffling forward until you were in between his legs. Your hand found his own, calloused digits smoothing themselves across your palm, reveling in your softness.
Paul brought your palm to his lips, pressing a kiss against the silky skin there. The sharp cadence of your breath made him grin, a chuckle reverberating throughout his body.
“You are so pretty,” You sighed, unable to smother your compliment. There was no one quite as captivating as Paul, whose untamed appearance only appealed to your attraction. “So attractive.”
Amused, Paul appeared flattered by your sweet praise, and it turned him on to the point of no return. Jesus, he wanted you — wanted you for himself. Possessiveness wasn’t something he was familiar with, yet it began to fester inside of him nonetheless.
Coaxing you into his lap, you swallowed the growing lump within your throat, thighs squeezing at either side of his hips. You straddled him, feeling those ring-adorned hands clamor for your waist, caressing into your curves.
“Lookin’ good enough to eat, sweet thing,” Paul crowed, pinching the chiffon shawl between his fingers. “You want to fool around?” Blunt, straightforward — his intentions seemed crystalline.
Another hitch formed within the depths of your throat, gooseflesh prickling along your spine. “Yes,” With an excitable sigh, you attempted to seem subdued, but this was the first time you’d done something like this. “Please.”
Paul’s palms cupped your hips, groping at the pliant flesh through your dress as he moved to kiss you. Carnality bled through his lips, tasting of smoke and the twang of copper. A low groan stirred within his chest as you grasped at his hair.
Dusty-blonde tresses seemed stiff between your fingertips, layered in age-old product that hadn’t been washed out. You found yourself not questioning the strangeness of it, lost within the fervor of his mouth.
Def Leppard saturated the space around you, ambiance beginning to soothe whatever anxiousness you’d felt before. Paul was a fantastic kisser, tongue swiping across your lower lip on occasion, head canted to deepen the entanglement.
Prying your shawl aside, you let the chiffon garment taper off to the floor, a shiver rolling down your spine. Exposed to the cave’s mild air, your mouth eagerly clamored against his own, feeling one of his hands slither toward your backside.
You felt as if you’d been set ablaze, flesh burning with a carnal intensity, something you hadn’t experienced before. An amalgamation of new sensations began to overwhelm you, the thrill of desire settling into your bones.
Paul brazenly groped at your rump, feeling you up through your skirt with greedy caresses. Each kiss was voracious, stealing every wisp of air from your lungs until there was nothing left but a burning, a longing unlike anything you’d endured before.
“Wait,” Through a breathy sigh, Paul’s lips came to a crawl, piercing hues gauging you through blonde lashes. “I’ve never gone much further than this. Is that okay?” Your inquiry was a softspoken one, laced with innocence.
Fantasy ran rampant as Paul considered your confession, tongue darting to lap across his lower lip. Armed with this knowledge, he knew that he really needed to behave, or else he’d break you.
“Fuck yeah,” He huffed, tracing his palm along the pliant flesh of your thigh. “If you don’t wanna do something, you tell me, yeah? I got some ideas,” Paul crooned, pressing a string of kisses along your jaw. “Think you’ll like it.”
A tremor of ardor rippled through your stomach, evoking a sense of exhilaration. Curious digits found their way to his bare shoulders, exploring the broad muscle there as he kissed his way across your throat.
“Like what?” A sharp exhale tore past your parted lips as teeth nicked your jugular, testing the waters for what was to come. Paul’s smirk was palpable, like an icy brand etched into your flesh.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He purred, toying with your intrigue, enough to make you squirm within his lap. You very nearly froze at the incessant prodding of his erection against your thigh. “Fuck, you smell so good, baby.”
Whatever perfume you happened to spritz on today, you made a mental note to wear it again. Gooseflesh crawled across your spine, thighs involuntarily attempting to clench together as his palm drifted underneath your top.
With a silent insistence, Paul helped you squirm out of your blouse, catching an eyeful of your lace-laden chest. His lips twitched into a wolfish smirk, eyes gleaming with a fervent hunger.
You nearly shrank beneath his piercing gaze, finding that your blouse had made its way to the floor, lost to the moment. The lace of your brassiere was girlish and frilly, though you suspected it wouldn’t stay on for very long.
Paul pressed a string of needy kisses along your shoulder, ring-adorned hand skirting to knead at your breast. A soft moan tore past your mouth, a sound that he had been itching to elicit from you. He teased your nipple over the fabric, watching you squirm within his lap.
“Paul!” A low whine escaped you, one that reeked of neediness, a burning desire that had coalesced into a flame. His mouth found the dip between your neck and shoulder, sucking a hickey into the sensitive skin there.
“Like it when you say my name,” He purred, nose nuzzling along your throat. The sanguine pulse of your blood was tantalizing, like a savory treat being dangled before him, but he resisted. “Gonna take this off of you.” One digit plucked at the strap of your brassiere.
“Mm.” With a noise of approval, you felt Paul move to unhook the garment with swift expertise. The humid breeze that drifted through the cave caused you to bristle, letting him leave you bare. His pupils seemed to expand with excitement.
Fuck, you were gorgeous — Paul was having a difficult time focusing on what part of you he enjoyed the most. “You are so fuckin’ hot,” He growled, causing your breath to hitch within your throat. “What am I gonna do with you, babe?”
A shiver of exhilaration iced your spine, arousal pooling between your thighs, heavier than you expected. Molten heat swirled within your stomach, warmth permeating your features. “Whatever you want.” You uttered, and he happened to grin.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Paul crooned, dexterous hands wandering toward your ass, pushing you forward until his face brushed against your sternum. His tongue traced a pattern around your breasts, savoring the sweet slick of your flesh.
Swallowing the lump within your throat, your fingers raked themselves through his wild tresses, finding their purchase as he kissed at your chest. A satisfied whine left you, followed by a gasp as he began to suck at your nipple.
Tits were his thing — it elicited some frenzied reaction from him, the softness of your chest; supple and unspoiled. Paul’s digits found your unattended breast, kneading into the flesh there, causing you to moan.
The rough pad of his thumb rolled across your nipple, evoking a squeak from you. His cheshire smirk was tangible against your skin, like a hot brand, etched for eternity.
His greedy suckling dwindled to kisses, planting a string of wet pecks to your chest. “You are somethin’ else,” Paul hummed, a glimmer of lust shimmering within his eyes. “Lay down for me, yeah?” He murmured, planting a kiss against your jugular.
The erratic beating of your heart was born of excitement, a thrill unlike any other. His allure had captivated you, and before Paul’s change of heart, it was the predator ensnaring prey. It was the supernatural attraction of being a vampire.
Without question, you adhered to his request, the obedient human, awkwardly shuffling to recline across the mattress. It groaned in protest, yet you paid it little mind as Paul crawled toward you.
It was animalistic, something that sent a shudder of fear through your stomach, a good fear. Cerulean hues glistened with unrestrained desire, lips splitting into a smirk as he made residence between your legs.
Hands grasped mesh as he tugged his top away, musculature exposed to you, godly in some inhuman way. Arousal sat heavy between your thighs, beginning to drive Paul to madness. He found your skirt, head canting to one side.
“You mind if I get rid of this? Just gettin’ in the way of what I want,” The amorous cadence of his voice made you press your legs together in an attempt to relieve the tension. “Gettin’ shy on me, babe?” Paul teased, prompting you to smile.
“You can take it off.” With a shrewd utterance, you watched as Paul sluggishly tugged at your skirt. The frilly garment disappeared, tossed somewhere behind him. Thin, cotton panties were all that kept you from exposure.
Slinking forward, Paul’s body blanketed yours, arms keeping himself propped up as he gazed down at you, lips quirked into a grin. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” His mouth found your collarbone, leaving behind a string of hot, wet kisses.
A shaky sigh escaped your lips, laced with the tremor of anticipation as you reached for his tresses. Soft fingers raked through his stiff mane, eliciting a low, satisfied hum from him.
He kissed you wherever he pleased, finding plenty of enjoyment in your body. Your flesh was like silk, akin to velvet, an unblemished surface, all for his own pleasure. Paul kissed his way between your breasts, briefly nipping at your sternum.
The heady, dizzying scent of your arousal continued to scorch his nostrils, a burn of sheer ecstasy. Bloodlust had dwindled into lust — the want he felt for you far outweighed the desire to feed. A soft moan left you when he reached your stomach, hands finding your thighs.
“P—Paul, where …” Embarrassment flooded through you, warming your already-feverish flesh with bashfulness. A guffaw left your greedy paramour, who did not stop his trail of reverent kisses. “You don’t have to.” You squeaked.
Cute — Paul’s mouth twisted into a wolfish grin, cerulean hues reflecting the yearning of a man starved. “I want to,” His enthusiasm bewildered you, and the throbbing between your legs seemed incessant, now. “Fuck, I want it so bad, babe.”
A shiver rolled along your spine, digits idly tensing within his hair as he kissed a trail along your pelvic bone, teeth snagging into the waistband of your panties. An audible gasp ripped through your throat, eyes widening into a doe-eyed stare.
Paul’s hues met yours, lips still quirked into a smirk even as he guided your panties down your legs. He had them clenched between his teeth like a vice, sluggishly dragging them down until they were hitched around your knees.
Your stomach did flips, a whine bubbling from your throat as he pressed kisses along your calf. No man had ever bothered to do something as sultry as this — and you became lost to his lascivious charm.
Involuntarily, you pressed your thighs together, visibly smitten as Paul clicked his tongue. “Wanna taste you so bad,” He groaned, chin perched against your knee. “You gonna make me beg or somethin’?” A bark of laughter reverberated through his chest.
“No, I just — It’s embarrassing,” It was silly, so silly to be flustered over your own anatomy. Paul appeared amused, but he seemed more than happy to placate you, trailing his fingers along your thigh. “What if you don’t like it?”
“I’ve eaten worse, sweet thing,” Paul chortled, like the snickering of a hyena as he kissed your knee, head cocked to one side. “Your pussy is ‘bout to be the best thing I’ve had in months, and that’s bein’ serious.” He assured.
A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, and his crass humor seemed to melt away your apprehension entirely. “I don’t want to starve you.” Your own jest made him grin — a full, ear-splitting leer that brought back his wild gleam.
Slowly, you parted your legs, and Paul whistled triumphantly, gluing himself to you with an inhuman haste. His mouth pressed open, wet kisses to your inner thighs, greed consuming him as he chased after that smell.
Your scent had been tormenting him since the moment he strolled into Video Max, and now, he was inhaling it all with glee. “Fuck, you’re soakin’ wet,” Paul groaned, causing your breath to hitch as you reclined into the mattress. “Pretty.”
Without pause, his tongue dragged across your cunt, akin to the burn of hot embers over your slit, an ecstasy that made you writhe. A growl ripped through his chest, one that made you shudder as he lapped at your core.
His tresses became your anchor, something to tether you to him as you tugged, pulled, and fisted at his mane. Paul seemed to enjoy it, nose nuzzling along your mound as he vigorously explored your cunt.
Taut, sinewy hands circled beneath your thighs, coming to perch atop your hips, caging you in against his mouth. He was primal — sloppy and enthusiastic, with little tact to his ministrations. His tongue traveled anywhere and everywhere.
The taste of your cunt drives Paul into a frenzy, like that of a fine stout, ambrosial — he’s intoxicated, hit with a buzz that clouds his mind. Your thighs coil around his head, involuntarily flexing against his temples.
There is a euphoria that swells within you, a fire that demands to be extinguished. Paul’s tongue possesses a mind of its own, eagerly lapping from your entrance to clit. At the first lap along the pearl of your cunt, you cry out.
Unbeknownst to you, Paul could’ve stayed between your thighs for an eternity, with little desire to catch his breath. Control became difficult to grasp, with the feral urge to ruin you taking root, the fantasy spreading like a creeping mold.
Between dizzying, wanton moans and excitable gasps, clawing for each wisp of air, you tug at his tresses with an iron grasp. His lips plant hot, open-mouthed kisses along your cunt, tongue gathering your slick.
Greed was his cardinal sin, a gluttony for you, for every fiber of your being. Cerulean hues flickered toward you, head thrown back, caught within the throes of ecstasy. It only furthered his lust, furthered the festering obsession.
The incessant throbbing of his cock was becoming mildly distracting, enough for Paul to absentmindedly grind his hips into the mattress. The friction made his flesh burn with excitement, lips moving to purse around your clit.
“Taste so fuckin’ good.” Paul’s sultry husk momentarily broke your concentration, heart fluttering beneath your breast as you glanced down. It was as if he ensnared you through eyes alone, ensuring that you watched as he sucked at that bundle of nerves.
With a noisy, pleading moan, your back began to arch from the mattress, springs hissing in protest as you tugged at the base of his skull. You brought him into your cunt, not that he minded, and you were treated to a barrage of messy licks.
A sheen of arousal coats his chin, senses swarmed with your scent; a thick, feminine aroma. Pupils dilate with thinly-veiled excitement as one hand relocates, slithering from your hip to the warmth between your legs.
Time isn’t wasted with Paul as two digits begin to stroke along your entrance, mouth preoccupied with suckling on your clit. With a muted thrust of your hips, you can feel the huff of laughter from your crazed paramour, who pins your hips down with his other palm.
A demanding fire burns bright within the pit of your stomach, arousal coalescing between your thighs, a nectar that Paul consumes every drop of. Your flesh feels unbearably hot, like a fever you can’t sweat out as you approach your peak.
Throaty groans tear through Paul’s throat as he hungrily eats you out, drunk off of your taste. Two fingers ease themselves inside of you, initially sluggish until it turns into something erratic, feeling you clench around his digits.
“Paul,” It almost stole the wind from your lungs; the graze of teeth around your clit, causing you to shudder. With an incoherent string of moans, you continue to babble his name as if it were a prayer. “P—Paul, m’close!” You croon.
White-hot bliss floods your insides, and it only continues to spur Paul on as he pistons his fingers into your cunt. The sensation makes you writhe, an ecstasy unlike any other. He doesn’t slow down, alternating between broad laps of his tongue and sucking at your pearl.
Enraptured, Paul observed you like that of a patient predator, grinding himself into the mattress again. His fingers work against you, thrusting in once more before curling — and that seems to set you over the edge.
With a wave of overwhelming pleasure, you feel your climax hit you hard, like a rush of blood to the head. Uncoiling your thighs from around Paul’s head, you feel sticky, leaving behind the mess of your ardor for him to clean up.
A thin layer of perspiration clung to your skin, glistening through the low light of the cave. A burning sensation stung your lungs as you let yourself breathe, regaining your composure.
Paul lapped at his lips, emerging from between your legs with a cheshire grin. “You’re hot,” He sighed, peppering a string of kisses all along your thigh. “Need a break?” With a cajoling tone, he slithered closer, resting his head against your stomach.
Blonde tresses stuck out in all directions, wild and disheveled from your constant pulling. You pushed your fingertips across his scalp, and he happened to curl up closer to you. “That was perfect.”
“I’m good at pleasin’.” Paul snickered, pecking another myriad of kisses along your abdomen. He moved off of you, settling beside you on the mattress, stuffing a pillow beneath his head. The front of his jeans did little to conceal his erection.
In a simmering silence, you wordlessly moved to clamor into Paul’s lap, palms embracing the plane of his chest. You traced your fingers through the blonde hair there, noticing the way in which his visage illuminated with excitement.
Silky digits traced the line of his stubbled jaw, past his collarbone and toward the coarse line of his happy trail. “You’re so pretty.” A soft mumble escaped your lips as you touched him wherever you could, feeling his hands knead into your hips.
“Fuck,” Paul grumbled, becoming impatient as he writhed beneath you, erection grinding into your core with fervent intent. “Don’t make me wait, baby.” He sighed, giddy as could be when your fingers found his belt.
A pang of elation rippled through you, ardor seeping into your bones as you sluggishly rocked your hips against him. An agonized grunt rumbled throughout his chest, hands squeezing you tight as you unbuttoned his jeans.
Freeing his cock from the confines of strained, white fabric, Paul bristled, nearly steering you onto him out of sheer desperation. Your fingers coyly wrapped around his member, stroking from base to tip, flush within your palm.
Another hiss of impatience slipped through his teeth, festering with want as you pleasured him. He was flattered that you bothered to return the favor, but Paul was hyperfocused on fucking you until you sobbed.
“Minx,” He mused, catching your mesmerized stare as he flashed a wolfish grin in your direction. You ceased with your toying, sheepishly guiding him toward your aching cunt. “C’mon, just like that.” Paul coaxed, teeth scraping across his lower lip.
It was increasingly difficult to maintain any pious facade with him talking to you like that — resonance little more than a sultry purr, spurring you on. Sluggishly, you lowered yourself onto his cock, the intrusion causing you to moan.
Intermingled sighs of ecstasy drifted throughout the alcove, with Paul gripping your hips like a vice, hard enough to leave bruises. Your nails dug into his abdomen, eliciting a chortle from him as he bucked up into you.
His control was splintering at the seams, feeling your cunt clench around him as he bottomed out inside of you. Your visage contorted into a look of sheer bliss, lips agape and eyes half-lidded as you began to grind against him.
From beneath you, the view was divine — Paul’s hues carefully traced the pliant curves of your breasts, the way your body moved atop him with ease. Your jugular appeared inviting, and for a moment, he was reminded of the burn ripping at his throat.
As you began to move, allowing your pace to become spirited, his thoughts were torn from fractures of feeding to that of pleasure. He was strong enough to move you all on his own, taut digits skirting to your haunches.
“Paul,” You moaned, nails leaving crimson crescents against his chest. His hips happened to clash with yours, cock pounding into your cunt with the lewd clash of flesh. “S—Shit!” A stammered whine escaped you.
Def Leppard filled the void, resonant between the intermingled grunts of Paul and your wanton moans. Deft, needy hands caressed you wherever he could, one palm gripping at your haunch as the other wandered to squeeze your breast.
Pools of dull candlelight bathed you in its glow, ethereal in appearance — he was mesmerized. It wasn’t something that occurred often, being charmed by a human, and yet it happened anyway.
Paul continued to thrust into you, cock nearly kissing your cervix with vigor. Even through his erratic pace, you guided yourself in rhythmic motions along his cock, reduced to a mess of pathetic whimpers and eager cries.
A cacophony of crass noises emanated throughout the walls of his chambers — breathy sighs intermingled with wanton moans, the exchange of flesh for fantasy.
“Fuck, baby,” Paul groaned, the husk of his cadence causing you to shiver in delight. Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, arousal pooling between your thighs. “Feels so good.” He huffed.
As if acting upon selfish impulse, you reached for the choker around his neck, hooking two digits into the black fabric as you tugged him up. Pupils dilated with sudden exhilaration, cerulean hues boring into you, as incendiary as an open flame.
Lips clashed together, greedy and hungry — an unfamiliar hunger, one that seemed to sink its talons into you, refusing to let go. You kissed him as if each entanglement would be your last, feeling his teeth scrape across your lower lip.
Paul didn’t seem to mind doing most of the work, feeling your thighs twitch and tremble from exertion. His chest brushed against yours, evoking an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat.
The pace seemed to increase, turning to a wild fervor that filled you with excitement. Your cunt clenched around his cock, bodies sticky with perspiration and fluids, the clash of flesh becoming prominent.
That familiar coil of tenuous heat festered within the pit of your stomach, signaling the encroachment of your release. Without warning, Paul happened to bite down too hard on your lip, and if it weren’t for his restraint, he might’ve taken it further.
“Paul,” Between wanton sighs and needy moans, you grasped at his tresses again, hips grinding against his own. A delicious friction boiled between the both of you, flesh to flesh, driven by desire. “Don’t stop, please.”
One hand skirted to cup his stubbled jaw, able to glimpse a sliver of the untamed side to Paul, the side that captivated you so. He was relentless, stamina borderline inhuman as he continued to guide you atop his lap.
A coppery scent filled his nostrils as a bead of crimson formed upon your lip. Paul bent forward, still fucking you as if it would be his last rut, tongue darting out to lap across your lips.
Saccharine warmth filled his maw for the briefest of moments — your blood, like a fruity bouquet, rich and virile. He hadn’t tasted something so sweet before, and it only made him want more. He kissed you again, with enough passion to make your head spin.
With another lewd clash of his cock slapping away at your cunt, you nearly reeled, moan swallowed by his voracious tongue. It was a messy kiss, fueled by his desire to lap at any drop of blood that oozed from your mouth.
Through a tangle of teeth, tongue, and want, Paul came, bucking up into you as his cock spilled inside of you. An exhale of ecstasy escaped you, mouths parting just enough for you to caress his lower lip with your thumb.
A wicked gleam glistened within his heated stare as he took your thumb into his mouth, pearlescent teeth teasing the fragile skin. A shudder wracked your body, enough to reignite the smoldering desire that now gripped your body.
“Stop that,” You mumbled, albeit playfully as you sluggishly untethered yourself from his lap, thighs scorched by his jeans and the constant friction. It must’ve been late, you realized. “That was …”
“Best you’ve ever had?” Paul teased, a howl of laughter rippling through him. He seemed more than satisfied, something that made you feel better about the whole ordeal. “You’re not gonna run off on me, are you?” He asked.
Curfew was dead and gone — you would face the repercussions come morning. Instead, you happened to try and find your panties, only to notice Paul twirling them around on his hand.
“I’m not going anywhere,” With a huff, you immediately slithered back onto his lap, grabbing them with a flustered smile. Paul had you trapped, caging you in against his chest with a vice-like hold. “Paul.”
“Can’t hear you, sweet thing,” His eyes momentarily fluttered shut, lips curled into a wolfish grin as he squeezed at your rump. You were trying to put your panties back on even still, nose wrinkling with amusement. “Need somethin’ to wear?”
Despite your shrug, Paul moved to find you something adequate. He had a rather extensive collection of ripped band shirts that he accumulated from tourists — none of them possessed a pleasant smell.
He tossed a Judas Priest shirt at you, and while you were in the middle of pulling it on, he was glued to your side again. If you stayed until morning, he would have some explaining to do — or he could drop you at home while you were asleep.
“You’re real pretty,” Paul’s shameless admiration made your flesh warm, a pleasant sensation stirring within your stomach. “You tired? You’re welcome to crash here.” He offered.
“You don’t mind?” Your mother was going to kill you, but it didn’t matter anymore. “I’ll leave first thing in the morning, I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” Despite your reassurance, Paul tossed his head in a show of dismissal.
Admittedly, he could envision you here quite often, vampire or not. There was something about your smell, your blood, your presence — it sucked him right in, even if you were oblivious to it. Paul lounged beside you, watching as you reclined into the pillows.
A beat of silence drifted between the both of you, with Paul ogling you, countenance indiscernible. He seemed a touch surprised when you leaned over to kiss him — a sweet kiss, lacking the carnal intensity of previous entanglements.
“Sleep tight, babe.” Paul mused, watching intently as you fell asleep. Once dawn came, you would find yourself in your own bed, your house — with no knowledge or remembrance of how you got there.
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cntloup · 8 months ago
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Mafia!Simon x Bartender!Reader
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
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You've been working here for ages, in this once rusty old bar which is now adorned by lively colors and music, turned into the best nightclub in the city, serving the best drinks and entertainments with the most beautiful dancers.
All in all, you have witnessed the worst and the best of this place. 
And you have come to know the people who own the place. 
In fact, you know them like the back of your hand, even better than themselves one might say. 
You're bright and perceptive, and working as a bartender in a place like this where it is jam-packed with important people all the time has its own perks. 
With a little bit of booze and honeyed words you bring out everyone’s hidden side and in no time, they’re spilling their deepest darkest secrets to who seems like just a sweet, harmless bartender. 
“Here you go.” you say to Simon, placing his usual Kentucky Bourbon on the counter, “Thanks, dove.” he says and brings the glass to his lips. 
“You know... I say don’t fuck around with the Russians!” you remark while drying the cups and placing them on the shelves. 
They asked your opinion on the matter since you’re their most trusted ally outside the group. As a matter of fact, they consider you part of the group by now. 
He chuckles before saying “That’s what I told Price.” 
“So why is he doing this?” you ask regarding cutting a deal with the Russians and Simon shrugs. 
You’ve had a weird feeling about it since they mentioned it to you. 
“Well, if any of you care about my opinion, don’t do it. It just doesn’t feel right to me.” you say with a shrug and look over to find him deep in thought, eyebrows furrowed and gorgeous brown eyes focused on somewhere far away. 
Gods, he’s so handsome! You've been fond of him for some time now, and by the looks and little touches he gives you, you’d say the feeling is somewhat mutual. 
Out of all of them, he’s always been the closest to you.  
And he’s been your biggest protector all throughout this wild ride you’ve been on together. 
He always keeps an eye on you in case any of the customers gets too close and makes you uncomfortable; God forbid if any of them gets touchy, they’d be digging their own grave by doing that. 
You come back from your daydreams after hearing him clear his throat. 
You notice you’ve been staring far too long, choosing to ignore the faint smirk on his lips. 
“Sorry... just thinking about the deal.” you lie and dip your head, busying yourself with cleaning the cups and hoping he won’t notice your burning cheeks. 
“Well, I'm off to meet John now. I'll make sure to give him your opinion too.” he says while standing from his chair, “Thanks for the drink.” he offers a small smile with a nod. 
“You’re welcome, Si... and I'm sure he won’t listen to me. His mind is set on the idea and that’s that. Not that I would ever question his decisions. I have too much respect for the man to do that. He must know something that we don’t.” you mention while grabbing his glass and placing it in the sink. 
“I can assure you that he values your opinion just as much as you do his. He'll think about it. Don't worry.” he says while gathering his stuff and placing your tip on the counter, a hefty envelope, so generous as always. 
“Simon! I can’t accept this! This is... too much! You do this every time!” you exclaim with a frown, nudging the envelope in his direction. 
“Take it. I insist. You can renovate your apartment. Last time I was there, it was a bloody mess!” he teases with a playful smirk.
“HEY!” you say in mock annoyance while throwing the rag in your hand at him.
“My apartment is fine as it is, thank you very much!” you retort, failing to hide the smile forming on your lips. 
You take the envelope hesitantly after so much persuasion on his part and wave him goodbye, feeling butterflies dance in your belly as thoughts of him linger in your mind.
You dip your head and go on with what you were doing, lost in your own world and not noticing the dark shadow lurking in the distance and standing in a corner, carefully observing the place, and most importantly... you. 
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muffinpink02 · 2 months ago
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Suit (I beg someone give me a title)
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Smut 18 word count 1010
Thank you for the request anon! ❤️
Your bare knees press into the hotel carpet. You're completely naked and on show for her. 
Just how she wanted you. 
She's also naked, aside from her suit jacket. 
Her long legs are spread as she sits comfortably in the big black leather seat of the hotel room. A glass of brown liquor sits in her large hand, swirling the cube of ice. She looks powerful, regal even. God, she is so arrogant. But it only makes your cunt throb. 
Your eyes land at her already wet sex. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. You can't help but feel a sense of your own power in yourself for making her aroused just by your presence, though she holds that same power as you feel the first bit of your essence start to stick to your thighs.
A cocky smile pulls at her painted lips. Hazel eyes greedily roam your body, taking in every curve of you. She looks like she wants to devour you, it brings a chill to your already exposed body. 
“Come. Let's put that mouth to work.” She hummed. 
You move instantly. Your knees shuffle against the carpet. You didn't care if you looked eager, you wanted her. 
You groan softly as long fingers dip into your hair, pulling your head back to meet her hazel orbs.
“I’ve wanted your tongue all night. Make it worth my time.” She purred before taking a sip of her drink and placing it on the table beside her.
You shiver at her words. Your own mouth starts to water as you smell her arousal pooling between her legs. You take another glance at her before she's pushing your head between her legs and she's in your mouth.
“Finally.” She hissed as her head fell back against the leather.
God, she tasted good. You hungrily lapped at her soaking wet folds, you didn’t have time to be slow. You had wanted her the moment you saw her in her suit. You fucking loved Alexia in a suit. 
The blondes grip tightened in your hair as you took her clit between your soft lips.
“Si, just like that.” She moaned as her hips started to thrust into your face.
You looked up to see what could only be described as heaven. Alexia's tight stomach muscles flexed with each thrust of her hips, her abs moving in sync with her deep breathing. You suckled her against your tongue, wanting to please her as best as you could.
You groaned as she pushed herself deeper into your mouth, her essences smearing against your tongue as you took her in. You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second as your ears were filled by her loud pornagraphic moans bouncing off the walls in the room. She clearly didn't care if she was heard, and neither did you, watching as she got lost by your touch.
You closed your eyes as Alexia started to fuck your mouth. Both of her hands laced into your hair, guiding you into her as she messily dripped into your mouth. 
Strong thick thighs began to shake as the blonde was being pushed closer to her climax. Your tongue slurped and sucked at her velvet folds, drinking down every drop that washed over your taste buds. 
“Bebé, keep doing that. Don’t stop until I come.” She breathed out, her eyes screwed shut as she painfully pulled at your roots.
You didn't have much choice, Alexia’s legs locked around your head as she used your mouth to get herself off. 
You couldn't breathe, but oxygen could wait. Besides, you wouldn't mind going out this way, with Alexia's thick thighs wrapped around your face. 
Though Alexia wasn't keen on that, she granted you some air as she moved one leg on your back allowing you to breathe again. 
“Just like that.” She husked as she started to shudder against your lips.
Alexia groaned loudly as she came into your mouth. Her own mouth hung open as she flexed her hips, keeping you as close to her as she physically could. Loving the way her clit twitched against your tongue.
You cleaned her up, making sure to swallow every sticky drop that clung to her lips. 
She breathed out a deep sigh. Smiling down at you between her still shaky legs. The same hands in your hair moved down to cup your chin. She looked at you with such love all while smearing her own essence that clung to your bottom lip.
“Your face is very messy, amor. Let me clean you up.” Her raspy voice whispered. 
Alexia pulled you into her lap, her warm thighs sat against your own. You chuckled as you gripped at her suit collar, she was such a show off, but you adored it. She was only like this when you two were alone. It was like a secret side of her that you only got to see.
Her large hands came back to your face, gently cupping your cheeks as she locked her lips with yours, humming as she tasted herself on your tongue. You got lost in her kisses like you always did, her slow but firm movements making you forget every thought you had in your head. Her tongue casting some sick spell on you.
Your hips started to move against her. You didn't even care that your cunt was grinding against her suit jacket, making it messy with your juices, wanting the friction that you so desperately needed. Alexia smiled against your lips when she felt the small movements. 
“Do you want something, amor?” She whispered against your lips. 
You nodded, your hips picking up pace on nothing. Your clit was screaming to be touched.
“Please, Ale. I need you- Fuck!” You cried out as two thick fingers pushed into your entrance, finding space against your tight muscles.
Alexia looked down, watching the way your essence darkened the fabric of her jacket. 
“You can explain that to the dry cleaners.” She teased before she started to fuck you at un unforgiving pace. 
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misspygmypie · 5 months ago
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We're A Team, On And Off The Track
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Requested: Yes Summary: Your period cramps are unbearable after a race and Lando is there to make you feel better. Words: 2.3k
Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)
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With every corner, you felt the weight of the pain more intensely, and it was getting harder to focus on the track. Your vision was blurring slightly, and you could hear Tom’s voice through the headset, but it seemed like it was coming from far away.
“Y/n, are you ok?”
“Yeah I’m alright,” you stated, taking a sharp breath.
Tom’s voice crackled again, urgent but supportive. “Y/n, just a bit more, you’re almost there. You’re doing great.”
You nodded to yourself, even though your race engineer couldn’t see it. “I’ve got this,” you muttered through gritted teeth. The pain was still relentless and even getting worse, but you were determined to not give up.
You maneuvered through the last few corners with every ounce of strength you had left. Your hands were gripping the wheel so tightly your knuckles were white, and you fought against the nausea threatening to overtake you.
The finish line was just ahead. You could almost taste the relief. You pushed through the final stretch, the sound of the engine roaring in your ears, a welcome distraction from the pain. As you crossed the line a wave of exhaustion washed over you.
Tom’s voice was the first thing you heard clearly after you crossed the line. “P6! Great job, Y/n! We’re all so proud of you.”
You managed a small, pained smile. “Thanks, Tom,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You were already thinking about the bed and the pain relievers you so desperately needed.
As you pulled into the pit lane, Tom and your team were there, ready to help you out of the car. You could feel Tom’s worried look on you. “It’s okay,” you replied, your voice hoarse. “Just… I need to lie down.”
Lando, your boyfriend and fellow driver of the McLaren team, was already waiting for you in the garage, having finished P4 and smiled at you. But just as you had put your helmet down and were walking over to him it happened. A sharp pain hit your lower abdomen and you could’ve sworn somebody stabbed you with a knife. The lights and colors in front of your eyes swirled together and slowly faded away as darkness took over. The pain was so strong you felt like you were about to pass out and you quickly wobbled over to the nearest wall to lean on.
“Y/n, oh my god,” you heard Lando’s panicked voice. “Baby, are you ok? Tom, get Dr. Hughes.”
Two soft hands grabbed your face and slowly, as your nausea subsided a bit, you could make out the worried face of your boyfriend.
You tried to focus on Lando’s face, his concern evident in every feature. The pain was still intense, but his presence brought a small bit of comfort amidst the stabbing feeling in your lower abdomen. As he gently helped you to a nearby chair, you took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself.
“I’m… I’m okay,” you managed to say, though the words came out strained. “Just… cramps. They’re really bad today.”
Lando’s expression softened, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. He crouched down in front of you, his hands still holding yours. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
You looked away, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “I didn’t want anyone to know. I didn’t want to be seen as weak or—”
“Y/n,” he interrupted gently but firmly. “You’re not weak. You’re incredible, and I hate seeing you like this. You should have told someone.”
Before you could respond, Dr. Hughes - the McLaren team doctor - appeared, his face concerned but relieved when he saw you sitting down. “Lando, can you give us a minute?” he asked softly, and Lando nodded, though he clearly wasn’t happy to leave your side.
Dr. Hughes crouched beside you, his professional demeanor slipping through with a compassionate touch. “How long have you been in this much pain?” he asked as he started checking your vitals.
“Since the start of the race,” you admitted quietly. “I didn’t want to drop out. I thought I could manage it.”
The doctor nodded, understanding. “Here's some medication and I will get some more for you to take with you. You need to rest.”
As he left to fetch the necessary supplies, Lando stayed close, his hand still holding yours. “I hope nobody pressured you into thinking you had to race today.”
“No, Lando, nobody even knew. I made the choice to race. I didn’t think it would be this bad.”
“Ok,” he said, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “But next time, please let me or someone else help. We don’t want you to suffer like this alone.”
Lando stayed by your side, holding your hand and keeping quiet, letting you focus on getting through the pain. His presence was soothing, even if words weren’t necessary at the moment. You leaned back in the chair, feeling the medication start to take effect and the pain begin to recede, albeit slowly.
As the initial discomfort faded, you looked at Lando, seeing the love and concern in his eyes. “Thank you,” you said softly. “For being here. For understanding.”
He squeezed your hand gently. “Always,” he said. “You’re my priority, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re okay.”
Dr. Hughes soon returned with the extra pain relievers and guided both of you through the paddock. “Go to the hotel and rest for a while. We’ll take care of the rest.”
“Thank you,” Lando replied to the man with a sincere smile and just a few moments later you were on your way to the hotel.
Once you arrived Lando carefully helped you out of the car, his arm around your waist providing support as you moved toward the hotel’s back entrance. The side street was quiet, a stark contrast to the front where fans and media awaited. The sense of privacy and calm was exactly what you needed right now.
As you entered the hotel, Lando guided you to the elevator, his hand gently resting on your lower back. The ride up to your floor was quick, and he walked with you to the door of your shared room, fumbling with the keycard to get inside. Finally, he managed to get it open and ushered you in.
The quietness and peace of the room quickly embraced you. You immediately felt more comfortable not having to pretend like your own body wasn’t trying to rip you apart from the inside while being watched from hundreds of eyes at the same time. With a somewhat relaxing sigh you stripped off your shirt and jeans and threw them into the next corner.
“Arms up, baby,” Lando demanded and just a second after you had done so you could feel the soft fabric of one of his sweaters engulf you. Once your head popped out of the hole you were greeted by the soft smile of your boyfriend, who helped take the hood off your head and placed a gentle kiss on our nose. 
Once you were changed, Lando helped you settle onto the bed, propping up some pillows to make you as comfortable as possible. He then went to fetch a glass of water and the medication the doctor had given you earlier.
“Here,” he said, handing you the glass and the pills. “Take these, they should help.”
You took the medication and swallowed it with a sip of water, then sank back into the pillows with a sigh of relief. Lando sat beside you on the bed, his hand still holding yours, his touch soothing.
“Do you want anything else? Maybe some warm tea?” he asked, his eyes full of concern.
“Tea would be wonderful,” you replied, feeling the medication beginning to ease the pain but knowing you could use a bit more comfort.
“Alright, I will be right back,” he proclaimed and hurried out of the room. When Lando returned, he was carrying a small bag from the hotel’s room service, a look of determination on his face. He set it down on the bedside table and opened it, revealing a couple of chocolate bars - comfort foods that he knew you loved - and a kettle he seemed to have gotten from the reception, which he quickly filled with water and turned on before preparing a steaming cup of herbal tea.
With the cup in hand he turned around to look at you. He saw the pained expression on your face and immediately sat down beside you, gently placing the tea and chocolate on the nightstand before helping you to adjust your position so you could get more comfortable. 
“Here,” he said softly, handing you the tea. “This should help with the nausea. And I thought you might like some chocolate too.”
You took the tea with a grateful smile, savoring the warmth of the cup against your hands. Lando carefully helped you sip it, making sure you weren’t burning yourself. The smell was soothing, and you could already feel the calming effect as you drank it slowly.
Once you had finished a few sips, he took the empty cup from you and set it aside before walking over to his suitcase and pulling something out of it.
“Is that my hot water bottle?!” You gasped, looking at the fluffy pig shaped fabric in his hands. 
Lando proudly presented it to you. “I packed it just in case. I just wanted to be prepared.”
You weren’t sure if it was the state you were in, the hormones or the simple fact that Lando proved once again how perfect of a boyfriend he was, but you could feel yourself tear up and soon the first wet streaks decorated your cheeks.
“Oh, baby, don’t cry” Lando begged, once again gently grabbing your face in his hands, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears. Then, he went to fill up the hot water bottle with the remaining water from the kettle, making sure it was at a comfortable temperature before placing it on your lower abdomen. The warmth began to spread, and you felt a significant reduction in the cramping pain.
He sat back down, brushing a stray hair from your face. “You did amazing out there today. I’m so proud of you, but I wish you didn’t have to push through so much pain.”
You looked at him, touched by his support. “I didn’t want to let anyone down. Especially not you or the team.”
Lando shook his head gently. “You didn’t let anyone down. You’re a fighter, but it’s okay to let others help you too. We’re a team, on and off the track.”
You nodded, feeling the exhaustion of the day beginning to take hold, while Lando pulled back the blankets and slid in beside you, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting embrace.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked softly, his breath warm against your hair.
“Much better,” you admitted with one last sniffle, snuggling closer to him. “Thank you for everything.”
Lando rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers gently stroking your back. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want you to feel better. And to know that you don’t have to go through this alone.”
The combined warmth of the heating pad, Lando’s embrace, and the tea made the pain and discomfort feel more manageable. You let out a contented sigh, feeling the support and love radiating from him.
“Can we stay like this for a bit?” you murmured, your voice muffled against his chest.
“Of course,” he said, his tone filled with affection. “We can stay like this for as long as you want.”
He continued to hold you, and the steady rhythm of his breathing, along with his gentle caresses, helped to lull you into a more restful state. Despite the lingering discomfort, you felt a deep sense of relief and safety in Lando’s arms. As you drifted off to sleep, the pain was still there but more bearable.
You awoke several hours later, something wet and clammy sticking to your face - Lando's shirt. 
“Are you feeling better, baby?” Lando asked immediately after noticing you were awake.
You nodded softly. “I’m definitely warm enough as well…”
“Oh, thank god,” Lando exclaimed, “I was sweating my balls off with this thing pressed against my belly!” You chuckled while he tossed the hot water bottle as far away from you two as possible.
Lando’s playful grumbling about the hot water bottle brought a genuine smile to your face, the kind that felt long overdue after such a rough day. 
“I’m sorry about the inconvenience,” you said with a soft laugh, “but I really appreciate you doing all this for me.”
He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his face still flushed from the heat. “No need to apologize. I’d do it all over again if it means making you feel better.”
Lando’s fingers continued their circles on your back, making it easy to drift back into relaxation. “How’s the pain?” he asked, his voice tender and concerned.
“Much better,” you replied, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. “The tea and the hot water bottle really helped.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Lando said with a relieved sigh. “I was worried that I might’ve overdone it with the hot water bottle, but it looks like it worked.”
“You were perfect,” you assured him, your hand finding his and squeezing it gently. “Really, I couldn’t have asked for a better person to be with me through this.”
He grinned and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Well, you’ve got the best boyfriend on call, so you’d better get used to it.”
As you snuggled closer to him, the exhaustion of the day began to fade away. It was moments like these that reaffirmed how lucky you felt to have him in your life.
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norrisainz33 · 2 months ago
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the call pt 2 || platonic grid & gr63
summary: y/n finishes out the triple header strong after being called up to race for alpine
pairing: platonic!grid x george russell x rookie!driver!reader
fc & warnings: none and minor hate comments, bad language, and bad grammar from my end
a/n: i've never had this many people request a part 2 before so i hope y'all enjoy!! I'm going to keep her racing in the remainder of the season so keep an eye out for the rest.
part 1 | part 3
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
alpinef1team has made a post
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alpinef1team: a point in the bag for pierre and another good drive for y/n 💼
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user2: solid result for the team!!! y/n ate in her second race ever
user99: a team of losers tbh
ynuser: yay for points! let’s go pierregasly
pierregasly: we go again in brazil! points for both of us there 😉
ynuser: everyone better make sure to bet on us 🙂‍↔️
yourbff: let’s go best friend(s)!!!!
ynuser: 🫶🏻
georgerussell63: great stuff ynuser
ynuser: thanks georgie
user1: notice how he is always supporting her…. is there something here?
user2: they’ve been friends since their karting days!! if you asked me back when they were in f2 if they were tg i would’ve said yes bc they were kinda sus but now idk
user1: gonna go research the lore on their f2 days
you let out a huff as you threw your padel racket on the ground and wiped the sweat from your brow, “god dammit lance! how are you so good at this!?”
laughing lance shrugged, “maybe you and george are just really bad!”
george shook his head, “no mate that can’t be it!”
you took a long drink of your water as the pair continued to bicker. “did you both see the weather for the weekend?” you asked changing the subject so they’d stop.
“yeah, lots of rain it seems.” lance put his racket into his bag and looked up at you with concern. “have you raced in the rain before?”
you shook your head, “no not really. i mean when i was karting yes but outside of that not really.”
“blimey y/n/n,” george ran a hand through his hair. “you’ve been going over those scenarios with your team right? there’s a chance of some really heavy rain.”
“i have, i have. i’ll be ok!” you assured them both with a smile but your friends looked anything but reassured.
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user2: jesus christ you’re so hot
user4: im obsessed with you holy f
georgerussell63: green is a good color on you. tho i think mercedes blue is better
ynuser: you mean alpine blue and pink
georgerussell63: nah i’d like to see you in my colors
ynuser: oh?
georgerussell63: you heard me
francocolapinto: 👀
ynuser: and you’re coming to play with us next time yea?
francocolapinto: si bonita
yourbff: H O T
ynuser: thanks bb
ynuser: also i think george might be flirting in my dms rn?
yourbff: WHAT?!
ynuser: he said he wants to see me in his mercedes kit
yourbff: oh that’s 🤭
landonorris: you look tall here
ynuser: thanks shortie 🩷
landonorris: uncalled for
user5: thanking your parents for doing it tbh
holding in a yawn you turned to walk back to your garage after the brazilian national anthem. the 5am wake up for this ‘super sunday’ as they were calling it was catching up with you despite the butterflies swarming in your stomach. you had had the qualifying session of your life, which despite the cool confidence you played it off with in your interviews after, shocked you just as much as it shocked everyone else. you qualified in 4th. yes, you read that right, p4. something about the car came alive in the rain and you prayed it came alive again during the race but the rain was starting to pick up and it seemed like it was only going to get worse. you’d already seen several red flags in quali and would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t terrified that that was about to become you in the race.... especially with the threat of the entire field behind you, including max verstappen, wanting to push forward and push forward fast regardless of the consequences.
“y/n!” a hushed voice caught your attention. george had caught up to you and had a serious look on his face. “please be careful out there,” he pleaded.
“you too george,” you squeezed his arm lightly. “i’ll see you on the podium, yeah?"
"yeah," george winked as you turned to head into the alpine garage.
your engineer, james, handed you your helmet as he went over a few more pieces of data. he was stressing over the litany of different plans the team had put together in the very short window between quali and now. the heavy rain and your heroic lap times caused just about everything your team had prepped to be turned upside down.
“right, right i’ve got it james. plan a seems the most logical if i can keep everyone behind me.” you said as you pulled your helmet onto your head and fastened the strap.
things were about to get interesting.
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f1: the race is stopped under the red flag for a crash….. and y/n y/l/n is our new race leader! after running a surprisingly strong p4 for the first half of the race, she took the lead when those in front pitted for new tyres. y/n is the only woman in history to lead a lap in a grand prix
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user1: not them calling her performance surprising 🥴
user2: I KNOW THATS RIGHT!
user12: only gonna last a second. she can’t even compete with the likes of verstappen
alpinef1team: @ everyone behind, y/n.. can we pretty please keep it this way?
yourbff: real tears are being shed rn this is monumental
user9: god is this amazing
mercedesamgf1: we love to see this historical moment! even if we’re coming to take it back 😉
user11: literally the most amazing thing i’ve seen all day
you ripped another tear off from your helmet wishing it would make it easier to see but to your dismay, you still couldn’t see a damn thing. the rain was coming down in buckets, your inters were worn, you were fighting the car even in the straight lines to keep it on the track and worst of all, you were scared shitless. you had no moment to even be happy about your current position in p1 because you were too busy trying not to send your car into the barrier.
“max is 2 seconds behind you and gaining very quickly. gasly is 1.2 seconds behind max and leclerc is 0.9 behind pierre.” james updated you on the radio which sent you into a fit of rage.
“james for fucks sake i don’t care!!! stop giving me timing updates!! i can’t see the road so i can’t do anything about it!!!” you almost screamed. "i can't even pass half throttle!"
“rain is expected to lighten in about 10 laps,” james reported ignoring your outburst.
“10 LAPS?! how am i supposed to survive 10 laps?!?!?” as you yelled you felt the rear of your car start to slide causing you to need to quickly snap it back into place. “there is so much standing water james - i can’t keep doing this. the front straight is like a swimming pool!”
“yes you can, y/n. lock in and calm down. you only have a couple of laps left in this class of rain.”
“lock in? calm down!? and what if i crash this damn car first?!” turning off your radio you tried to take a few deep breaths while focusing on the road in front of you. you couldn’t panic - that would only make matters worse. you had to stay calm. you knew your car, you knew to deviate off the racing line to avoid the slippery curbs in specific turns, and you knew that you had to make it through whether you wanted to or not. panicking was not going to help anyone but there was little way to explain just how scary it was on track at this current moment.
another snap of significant oversteer left you breathless and near tears. “james im so serious - i need wets and even then i don’t think they’re going to be enough. there's standing water on every part of this track. i can't race like this on these tyres. please talk to fia. please we need a red flag.”
“pitting doesn’t make sense right now, you’ll come out in traffic and your race will be over.”
“i care more about making it out of this race alive than coming out in traffic.”
“understood.”
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“they couldn’t have taken any longer with that red flag could they?” you snapped as you pulled your race suit down to your hips.
“no they really couldn’t have! it was getting ridiculous out there.” pierre grabbed his water bottle, "driving couldn't have been more dangerous."
“alright you two! thats enough!" your team principal interrupted, looking very serious. "we have a real chance of keeping this double podium finish especially because george and lando pitted before this red flag and lost a lot of time," he explained. "y/n, you’re going to have to push, there’s not much chance you’ll be able to keep max behind you but we’ve got to be fast enough to keep george, charles and lando behind pierre.”
right... keep 3 of the fastest drivers on the grid behind you both.. you were going to need a real stroke of luck.
alpinef1team has made a post
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liked by yourbff, yoursibling, ynupdates, rubendias, jackhughes, robmcelhenney, and 843,124 others
alpinef1team: THEY DID IT!!! Y/N AND PIERRE CROSS THE LINE AS P2 AND P3! HISTORY MADE
"thats p2 y/n - great job! the entire team and i are so fcking proud of you."
"AHHH YES YESSSSSSS!!!!" you screamed into the radio, banging your hands against the steering wheel, "WE DID IT!! WE DID IT JAMES!!" the emotions hit you like a brick wall, and tears quickly began falling. "thank you all so much. thank you for this opportunity. thank you to the mechanics, to everyone back at the factory, to every single one of you. thank you for believing in me when no one else did."
"you're welcome, y/n. you deserve it. you deserve it all kid."
pierre rolled up next to you to drive the remainder of the cool down lap by your side. he waved excitedly and you waved back without hesitation - you both had achieved what felt like the impossible.
you were the first woman to ever stand up on the podium and you were the first woman to score points in formula 1, but you knew you certainly weren't going to be the last. if you would do anything with your remaining races, it would be to show the world just how much women belong in this sport.
you pulled into parc ferme and shut off your car as quickly as you could. you fumbled with your straps and when you finally got them off, pierre was standing above you with his hand held out. you smiled, grabbing his hand and allowing him to pull you out of the car. "we did it, p -" you said just loud enough for him to hear over the cheering.
"we did it, y/n/n." pierre replied and with that, you both turned and ran hand in hand to your team who was waiting with open arms to greet their heroes.
ynuser has made a post
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liked by georgerussell63, landonorris, pierregasly, lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, yourbff, and 943,124 others
ynuser: we did it 🩷 thank you to alpine for believing in me, thank you to pierre for being the best teammate a girl could ask for, thank you to my friends and family for supporting me through the ups and the downs and thank you to my fans -- i love you all so much
view all 999 comments
user1: i've never shed so many tears over a race before
yourbff: i feel like a proud parent rn
ynuser: thanks for never giving up on me bestie
georgerussell63: you're a force to be reckoned with y/n. congratulations on an impressive drive! today is your day 🤍
ynuser: mark your calendars! 11/3 is national y/n day
landonorris: speechless... i am so proud of you. if someone had to be up there besides me, i'm so glad it was you 😉
ynuser: thank you lanny. only thing that would have made it better is if you were with me up there 🩷
user10: tea LOL
francisca.cgomes: i dont think i've ever been happier?? my two favorite people are on that podium?
ynuser: stop dont make me cry agAIN
pierregasly: thankful for you mon ami
ynuser: 🤍🩷
lewishamilton: being a barrier breaker is never easy y/n but you are crushing it. i am proud to race with you!
ynuser: you have no idea how much this means to me lewis
user9: thank you from the bottom of my heart for continuing to prove everyone wrong
user95: nothing could have prepared me for 1) them running hand and hand to their team, 2) y/n crying tears of joy on the podium and 3) gr63 picking y/n up and twirling her around in parc ferme
user2: george and y/n were so cute it was actually sickening. did you see the way he fixed her hair after putting her down
user95: and how he wiped away her tears??? yeah i saw it 🥹
user2: i want them together so bad
user10: you are going down in the history books
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
a/n: thank you for reading!!! likes, feedback and reblogs are welcome!! massively appreciate all of the support on this little series. i am really enjoying it too
tag list from part 1: @yawn-zi @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @divagreymare @raizelchrysanderoctavius @ferakillia @stressed-cherry @sassyangel16 @mxdi0 @awritingtree @danielricciardoslut3 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @seasonswinter @rawr-123s-stuff @grussellsprout @belncaldern @ellelabelle @rafeyybabyy
゚. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ゚
disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction
© norrisainz33 || please do not rewrite, translate, or copy any of my works posted here on to any other platform
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raven-dor · 5 months ago
Note
Hi loves!!
I love your gwayne Hightower fics!
Can I have a request of gwayne x Targaryen reader (reader is rhaenyra’s young sis) where they are married for a while now then blood and cheese happened instead of jaeherys, one of their twins got killed 😔 and they’re both devastated
but still reader loves her sister (of course) and knows it’s not her fault
Thank you !! Sorry for any wrong grammars😅
are you satisfied?
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In which gwayne hightower and his wife, rhaenyra targaryen’s sister, experience a great tragedy
PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader
WARNINGS: death, fighting, typical HOTD violence, like three swear words, 'betrayal'
WORD COUNT: 3.5k
AN: gwayne and the reader's children's names are Visenya and Velarion, and the reader is the rider of Silverwing
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Gwayne always loved the fact that his wife’s violet eyes and bright white hair had transferred to their children. He thought his wife was far more comely than he, and he thanked the gods his children hadn’t received his looks. 
(Y/N made him swear to stop saying such things, that he was extremely handsome.) 
He smiled as his wife played hide and seek with their twins, pretending not to see their obvious hiding spots. She was an amazing mother, he told her as often as he could. His own mother had been cold, choosing court life over raising her children on more than one occasion. He had still loved her dearly, but it seemed, as he grew older, that that love was not returned. 
Over time, Gwayne had come to realize that his distaste for King’s Landing stemmed from his mother’s choices. When he had returned for the tourney celebrating the new heir, Prince Baelon, he found a reason to enjoy its high walls. Princess Y/N was a year younger than her sister, but it seemed as if she was much wiser and more deliberate in her decisions.
Because Y/N had loved King’s Landing, he had pretended to enjoy the place. He couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment stretch across her beautiful face. 
So when Alicent sent a letter to Gwayne asking him to bring his family to King’s Landing, he couldn’t refuse. But he so wanted to. Y/N sensed his distaste immediately. She knew him too well, he would say.
His wife hadn’t wanted to return to King’s Landing either, her childhood home turned into that of a prison. Bringing their children, she argued, would put their whole family in danger. Gwayne had agreed, but how could he refuse the Dowager Queen? 
Y/N hadn’t supported Ageon’s claim, being very forthcoming with her husband when the topic arose. Gwayne remained stoic, never letting anyone know of his true opinion, not even his dear lady wife. If he had backed Rhaenyra, he reasoned with himself, his family would have been killed, and it wouldn’t have mattered that he was the Queen’s brother. If he told Y/N he supported his nephew, she would surely shun him. Which was almost as horrible as any punishment he could have received. 
Gwayne laughed as his son, Valerion, dashed across the room, hiding behind his father’s legs. The young boy looked up at his father, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell her, Father.” 
Gwayne nodded, looking back to his wife, who was smirking. “Oh where, I wonder, is my little boy?” She looked over at the curtains, ripping it open. “He is such a clever boy, I am sure I will never find him.”
Valerion giggled, and Y/N whipped around, laughing. “What was that?” She looked to her husband. “Did you hear that, my love?” 
Gwayne shook his head, forcing himself to remain stoic. “I believe you are imagining things, my dear.” 
Valerion giggled again. “She’ll never find me.” 
Y/N practically bit her hand. “I keep hearing his voice…” She tiptoed over, jumping behind Gwayne and tickling their son. “I got you!” 
Visenya peeked her head out from under the bed. “Does that mean I win?” 
Gwayne let loose a loud laugh, gripping his stomach. “You are the champion, my dear.” He walked over, grabbing her from her hiding spot and spinning her around. “Bravo.” 
Y/N sighed, hugging Valerion tightly. Their son squirmed, pushing away from his mother. “Mummy please. I’m grown-” Y/N gasped, looking at her son with fake hurt in her eyes. 
“You are too old for embracing your mother now?” She sat him on the floor, pretending to cry. “You are six years old now, I should have known.” 
Valerion glared playfully at his mother. “Don’t cry, Mummy.” 
“I can’t help it.” She giggled. “Soon you’ll be gone and I will never see you again.” 
His eyes widened. “But I don’t want to leave!”
Y/N stopped ‘crying’ and looked down at their son with surprise. “Well, that is good news.” She picked him up, hugging him tightly once more. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I tucked you in then?” 
He shook his head. “Can you tell us a story?” 
Visenya nodded eagerly. “Please Mother.” 
Y/N sighed, like she was contemplating if she was going to tell them a story or not. “Well, if you insist…” 
Gwayne smiled, setting Visenya down. “Be good for your mother, you two.” He walked over, kissing Y/N on the cheek. “Don’t stay up too late, darling.” 
The twins looked repulsed, scrunching their noses. Valerion groaned.“Father…” 
He looked down, smiling warmly. “One day, your children will make the same noises of disgust at you and your wife, Valerion, and I will remind you of this day.” 
Valerion looked disgusted. “I will never marry. I will be free with my dragon, and we will fly across the seven kingdoms.” 
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “If only it were that simple, my sweet boy.” She clapped her hands, ushering the twins out of the room. “Now, time for bed.” 
Visenya yelled. “And a story!” 
Y/N nodded, shutting the door behind her. “And a story.” 
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The twins' eyes drooped, but Y/N continued the story, knowing that if she stopped, she would be scolded. “And then Rhaenyra and I boarded our dragons, flew to Dragonstone, and retrieved our brother’s egg from our Uncle.” She smirked. “Your grandfathers were furious.” 
Valerion whispered. “Do you miss your sister, Mother?” 
Y/N nodded, her eyes tearing up at the thought. “Everyday my boy.” She pushed his hair out of his eyes, kissing his forehead gently. “Just as you will miss yours one day.” 
Visenya laughed. “We will never be apart. I will make sure of it.” 
Y/N smiled. “Goodnight children.” She stood up, walking over to her daughter and kissing her forehead. “Sleep well.” 
She took one last look at the pair, almost laughing at the fact that they were already asleep. She blew out their candle, shutting the door gently behind her. She had gotten halfway back to her chambers when a child’s scream echoed through the halls. 
Her blood curdled, and she whipped around racing back towards their chambers. Pulling her dagger out of its sheath, she pushed their doors open, whispering. “Childre-” Her eyes widened, and she glared, gripping her dagger tighter. “Who are you?” 
Two men stood in front of her twin’s beds, rat traps over their shoulders. The taller one turned around and Y/n recognized him immediately as one of the City Watchmen. His eyes widened. “Your Highness.” 
She put on a brave face, but her heart was racing. “What are you doing Sergeant?” 
The man ignored her, hissing at his accomplice. “This is the wrong room. He wouldn’t want her chi-” 
The smaller man interrupted, gesturing back to the Princess. “It’s too late. She’s going to tell.” 
Y/N shook her head, whispering so that her children wouldn’t wake up. “I won’t. Just don’t hurt my children, and I swear I won’t.” 
The small man ignored her, lowering his dagger towards Valerion’s neck. The Sergeant hissed. “That’s not who he wanted.” Reaching his arm out, he pulled the ‘rat catcher’ away from the bed. The ‘rat catcher’ jumped, and his knife fell out of his hand, plunging into her son’s neck.
Y/N gasped, a hand covering her mouth. The room was silent, none of them moving. 
The Sergeant looked panicked. “Your Highness-” 
A tear fell, and she looked up at the pair, whispering. “You are going to pay for that.” 
She walked forward, raising her dagger and plunging it into the murderer’s neck before either of them had the chance to defend themselves. She later would say that it served them right, they carelessly murdered her son, and so she simply returned the favor.  
The Sergeant pushed her away, grabbing his dying accomplice and racing towards the tunnels. She screamed, falling to the floor. Visenya stirred, her eyes opening slowly. “Mummy? What-” 
Y/N wiped away her tears, ripping her daughter out of her bed. She shoved Visenya’s face into her neck, whispering soothingly. As soothingly as she could for just witnessing her son’s murder. ”Go back to sleep my love.” 
Visenya’s eyes fluttered. “What about-” 
“Shh, my dear.” Y/N felt her eyes well up. “Shh.” 
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Tucking Visenya in on the couch in their shared chambers, Y/N stalked towards their bedroom, her heart beating against her chest. “Gwayne.” She hissed. He stayed asleep. Anger raced through her veins, how could he sleep through this? She shook him harshly, on the verge of yelling. “Wake up.” 
He grumbled, rolling over. “What is-” His eyes widened, throwing the covers off as he examined his wife. “You are drenched in blood.” 
“Gwayne…” She sobbed, falling to the ground as he watched helplessly. “He’s dead.” 
Gwayne felt worried, and sat beside his wife, rubbing circles into her back. “Who is dead, my love?” 
“Valerion.” She wailed, throwing herself into her arms as more tears streamed down her face. “Valerion!” 
Gwayne’s heart dropped. “What?” 
“They-” 
“Who?” He grabbed his wife’s arms, eyes piercing into hers. “Who?”
“I don’t know. Some rat catcher and a-” She sobbed again. “A City Watchman.” He stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of their room and back toward their children’s chambers. Y/N fought against her husband's hold, still violently sobbing. “No, Gwayne please do not make me go back.” 
He stopped, realizing that she had truly seen everything. “My love, we have to. We need-” He choked on a sob he hadn’t known was forming. “We need to be strong for a little longer.”
Without waiting for her response, he pushed the twins’ doors open, their son lying lifelessly in his bed. He let go of Y/N’s hand, racing over to Valerion’s side. He gently pulled the knife from his son’s chest, pushing his bright white hair out of his eyes. “My boy.” 
Y/N wailed once more. “Valerion, this isn’t funny, you’ve upset your mother.” His throat felt as if it was closing up. “Valerion, wake up right now.” He felt his son’s throat, finally accepting his death when he felt no pulse. He fell back, staring at the bed. “We need to notify someone.” 
“Who?” Y/N cried. “Alicent? My drunken half brother of a king?” 
“Anyone in the Keep, Y/N.” He stared at their son. “How did this happen?” 
She simply shrugged, climbing up off the floor. “I must leave.” 
His head whipped over, staring at his wife in shock. “You are leaving?” 
“I will be back, I swear to you.” 
“Where are you-” 
“Leave it!” She snapped, a rage in her eyes that Gwayne had never seen. He nodded, watching as she walked out of their children’s room and down the hall.
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Dragonstone was quiet, Y/N noticed. Of course it was, night still covered its dark walls. She landed Silverwing on the hill above the castle, stalking toward the entrance. “I demand to see my sister.” 
The guard laughed. “And you are-” 
“Y/N.” Rhaenyra stepped out from the shadows. “What are you doing here?” 
“My son has been murdered.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, another sob breaking out. “He’s dead, Rhaenyra.” 
Rhaenyra ushered her sister inside, out of the watchful eyes of her family and advisors. Rhaenyra closed her chamber doors, and sat her sister down, kneeling in front of her. “What do you mean-” 
“My son has been murdered. That is what I mean.” She glared at the older woman. “Did you-” 
“Seven hells, Y/N. Of course not.” She took Y/N’s hands in hers. “Do you really think that I would order the death of a child, let alone my sweet nephew?” 
“I just-” Y/N sighed. “I had to make sure.” Taking one last look at her dear sister, she stood, nodding. “I will see myself out.” 
Rhaneyra watched as her sister glided across the room. Just as the door opened, she cried out. “I miss you.” 
Y/N smiled. “I miss you too.” She’d almost reached the exit of the castle when she felt eyes following her every step. “Iēdrosa hiding isse se shadows, nyke ūndegon. (Still hiding in the shadows, I see.)” 
He stepped out, his face taking in the sight of his ‘traitorous’ niece. “Iēdrosa married naejot se hightower orvorta, nyke ūndegon. (Still married to the Hightower cunt, I see.)” 
She held her head up high, glaring at her uncle. “I’ll have you know that cunt is a good man. A better man than you will ever be.” Guilt flashed across his face, but she continued. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation that I support the usurper that is my half brother, and if you repeat that mistake again, you will have more than my words attacking you.” She nodded, walking past him. “Goodbye, Daemon.” 
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Visenya had been wailing for days. Wailing over the death of her brother, and wailing over the fact that neither of her parents could look at her without tearing up. The couple sat beside each other at dinner, scarcely eating or speaking. Alicent sighed. “It does your daughter no good if you die of hunger.” 
Y/N looked up from her plate, tilting her head, hoping she had just misheard. “What did you just-” 
Gwayne grabbed her hand tightly under the table, signaling to not pick a fight. “Quite right, sister.”
Alicent smiled. “We are very fortunate.” 
Y/N fought against her impulse to pull her dagger out and commit a massacre. “How so?” 
“That they had the children’s rooms confused.” 
Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. She must have been hallucinating. “Excuse me?” 
“I only meant it would have been quite catastrophic if the assassins had found Jaehaerys instead of Velarion.”
Y/N smiled, and she could tell it had unnerved Alicent. “Yes, because my son is much less important than the heir to the throne. Thank the gods it was Velarion instead of Jaehaerys.” 
Gwayne stilled, setting his silverware down. Alicent’s cheeks flushed. “I hope I did not upset you.” 
Y/N laughed, so loudly that the whole room stopped talking, staring at the woman drowning in her grief. “Of course not. You began upsetting me twenty years ago.” 
Aegon smiled drunkenly. “Sister-” 
“You are no brother of mine, Aegon. So do not start acting it because of this little spat.” She pushed her chair out, making an announcement. “We will be leaving at first light. This has been, by far, the worst encounter I have ever had with King’s Landing.” 
Gwayne raced after his wife, not even bothering to say goodbye to his family. “Y/N-” 
“I cannot believe you.”
“What?” 
“You just sat there, Gwayne.” She seethed, practically running down the halls. “Our son is dead, and you sat there and let your sister act as if it was a minor loss. An accident.” 
“My love-” 
“Don’t!” She snapped. “I am taking Visenya, and we are going to Dragonstone.” She stopped outside their chambers, whispering so that their guards would not hear. “I do not care where you go, but I do not wish to ever see your face again.” 
He sighed, walking into their room after her. “Y/N-”
“Gwayne, that is the end of our discussion-”
“No it is not!” He yelled. “I am grieving as well. You do not get to pretend I am not.” 
“Then show it!” She yelled back. “You have been silent for days. You do not defend me at dinner, you do not defend me at all. You sit there like you are dead yourself.” She scoffed. “You might as well be.” 
Gwayne was practically glowering. “Do not say things you do not mean, wife.” 
“I will say-” 
“Mummy?” The couple looked down, realizing they had just fought loudly in front of their daughter. Y/N crouched down, opening her arms. 
“Come here, my love.” 
Visenya faltered, and Gwayne watched as Y/N cracked, standing up. She barely spared a glance at Gwayne. “I will be sleeping in my own chambers tonight.” 
He shook his head. “No.”
She scoffed. “I didn’t realize you controlled me, my lord.” 
He widened his eyes, gesturing down to their daughter who was watching with wide watery eyes. “Y/N, do me this one kindness.” 
“Gwayne, I need to be alone.” She stepped back, walking towards her secret exit when his hand wrapped gently around her wrist, pulling her back. His breath hit her neck as he whispered. “Sleep in our bed. I will stand watch, and we will leave at first light for Dragonstone.” She turned around, her eyes wide. He looked determined, and in that moment, Y/N understood that he would do anything to keep them together. Her heart skipped as he bore his soul to hers, his voice heavy.  “I will not have my family thrown into chaos and ruin.” 
Her eyes were teary as she whispered. “Thank you.” 
He nodded. “Go to bed.” He turned back to their daughter, carrying her over to her makeshift bed. Visenya’s sweet voice could be heard whispering to her father. “Did I upset Mummy?” 
“No my dear.” He kissed her head gently. “Your mother is hurting, as am I. Never forget that we love you dearly.” He tucked her back into bed. “Sleep tight, little one.” 
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It had been surprisingly easy to escape the Red Keep. Y/N gathered it was because they did not think anyone would want to leave, which made her laugh. Who would want to be held captive in such a place?
Gwayne never understood how Targaryen’s flew dragons like it was as simple as riding a horse. Being this high up horrified him, but his wife and daughter enjoyed it immensely. Visenya giggled as she reached out, grabbing a cloud with her bare hands. “Father, open your eyes!” 
Y/N laughed. “Your father is frightened, dear.” 
Gwayne scoffed. “I am not. I’m simply-” 
“Scared!” Visenya laughed. “I thought knights were supposed to be brave, Father.” 
Gwayne gasped, clutching his heart as he forced his eyes open. “Are you calling me a coward, young lady?” 
Y/N smiled, forgetting for a moment that their family had been torn apart only four days ago. “Hang on.” 
“Hang on?” Gwayne questioned. “Why-” 
Silverwing dove, and Gwayne felt the air leave his lungs, clutching onto his wife’s waist. “Seven Hells!” 
Y/N laughed, her hair flying in the wind. “Enjoy it, my love!” The great dragon landed roughly on the same hill she had visited days before. Helping down Visenya, she smirked as her husband clambered off of her dragon’s back. “Careful, Gwayne.” 
“I am-” His leg caught on the saddle, and he fell backwards, causing his two silver haired beauties to burst into tears. “Do not laugh.” 
“It is quite difficult.” Y/N’s violet eyes glittered in the sun. “Come down, we have much to do.” 
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Y/N held Visenya close to her as they approached her sister and her family. Gwayne trailed behind the two, looking around the room skeptically. Rhaenyra sat tall on her throne. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, sister?” 
Y/N bowed deeply. “Your Grace, we come to swear allegiance to you, and ask that you allow us to stay with you on Dragonstone.” 
Daemon laughed. “And why would we-” 
With one look, Rhaneyra shut Daemon. “That is not necessary, Y/N.” She stood up, embracing her sister tightly. The elder sister looked down, waving at the young girl. “Hello, little one.” 
Visenya smiled shyly, clinging to her mother’s form. Y/N laughed, whispering. “Visenya, this is your Aunt Rhaenyra. Say hello.” 
Rhaenyra laughed. “Hello, Visenya. You are the spitting image of your mother.” 
The young girl blushed, smiling. “Thank you.” 
“Mother, what is the meaning of-” A tall, dark-haired young man sauntered in. “Y/N!” He rushed over, hugging her tightly. “How-” 
“I was most tired of the 'hospitality' of King’s Landing.” She smirked. “If one could call it that." She stepped back, taking in her grown nephew. "My, you have grown. Last I saw you, you were half your height.” 
He scoffed, glaring playfully. “Yes, well…” 
Rhaenyra clapped her hands. “Let us show you to your rooms.” She put her arm through her sisters. “You must be exhausted.” 
“One moment.” Daemon’s voice rang through the throne room. “What about her traitorous husband?” 
“Daemon-” 
Y/N glared. “What did I tell you would happen if you said that again?” 
Daemon laughed. “I would like to see you-” 
Gwayne's auburn hair blocked her view of her uncle, standing in between the two. Y/N smiled. Standing in between two angry Targaryens was a recipe for death, and yet there her husband stood, stoic as ever.
“Please.” He turned to the King Consort. “I know that my family has done nothing but hurt yours…” He spared a look to his wife. “But you must understand that my love for your niece has overcome any loyalty I once had to my family.” 
“How can we be sure you will not betray-” 
Gwayne hissed. “They are the reason my son is dead. I will never forgive them.” 
Daemon nodded. “Very well.” 
Gwayne nodded back, turning to his wife. “Let us go rest my love.” He kissed her temple, following after the queen. “I believe we have earned it."
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taglist: @beebeechaos
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tatoda · 1 year ago
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Wanting You || conrad fisher x fem!reader
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masterlist
request
summary: you get a call and it happens to be your drunk boyfriend just wanting your love and attention
pairing: conrad fisher x reader
warnings: stressed conrad and mostly just fluff
wc: 800 (i think)
put some drunk conrad in to help with the storyline!! not majority edited just wanted to get this out
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It was supposed to be a boy's night. To drink and talk about sports or just hang out in general. But here conrad was, looking at your pictures on his phone showing the guys around him. Even if they were at a party where there were over 100 people, you were still the first thing on his mind.
“she’s just so pretty guys,” he told steven and jeremiah who were sipping on beers
“oh we know, for how much you talk about her.” jere muttered over his drink
“man, as much as i love how you’re in love with my sister, but please spare all details.” steven rolled his eyes
“she’s just so sweet, she’s helped me with so much. like that one time she snuck me into your house because i missed her and my roommate was having sex,” he admitted
“oh god! you snuck into our house. if laurel ever hears this you’re dead meat.” steven leaned forward
“relax steve, i’ll have you know your mom likes me too much.” conrad took a sip of his beer when he should have stopped drinking for a while now “i miss her.”
“he’s so whipped.” jere laughed watching his brother be lovesick for you
“do you think she will answer if i call her?” his eyes lit up
“she’s probably sleeping.” steven looked over his shoulder to the crowd of people spotting taylor dancing with some of the volleyball girls
“just make your move already.” jeremiah pointed out
“you know belly would absolutely murder me if i touched her best friend.” steven sighed and looked away
“hey! look at me man.” conrad put a hand on his shoulder “you haven’t murdered me yet.” he smiled
“that’s because i’m building up to it.” conrad shook his head
“i’m gonna call her, i miss her.”
“dude-“ it was too late he already clicked your contact.
Meanwhile, you were on your bed watching netflix and having a self-care night. With conrad with the guys, you felt like he needed to get out of the apartment they all shared because all they did was play video games and sleep. Your phone rang on the comforter causing you to jump not expecting any calls. You turned the phone seeing conrad’s name on the screen.
“hey.” you paused your show leaning back on the pillows
“hi baby.” he slurred. this wasn’t the first time occurrence he’s called you drunk, you soon found out he was clingy and wanted your attention when drunk
“hey you, how’s the boy's night?” he sighed on the other side of the phone
“it’s good, it’s good. i wanted to call and say i miss you, like a lot.”
“you just saw me yesterday dummy.” you laughed into the phone
“i just really love you.” your heart fluttered as he said the words, you don’t usually say it because it meant a lot to the both of you with what happened to your parents
“can you do me a favor baby?” he hummed on the other side “can i talk to my brother really quick?”
“yeah! here, steven she wants to talk to you.” you heard him hand the phone over
“hey sis.”
“hey can i come get him? i think he’s had enough and i know he’s gonna want me to come get him soon enough.”
“oh yeah please,”
“thank you for taking him out tonight, i know he’s stressed with everything with adam and everything.”
“no yeah i understand, see you soon.” the phone was pulled away from him and back in the hands of your boyfriend
“hey lover.” he chuckled “i’m gonna a come get you okay?”
“yeah, thats sounds good.” you knew after a while he would start overthinking and then the stress would come back
“just stay with the guys and no more drinking, okay?”
“okay, see you soon baby.” you both hung up and you got out of bed
The drive over to the house was over 20 minutes. But you didn’t mind you wanted to see conrad. There has been a lot of stuff going on recently with his dad. you knew their relationship wasn’t the greatest and it really got to him sometimes.
You parked the car in search of your boyfriend. Steven texted you saying they were in the backyard in some chairs, and you saw the back of your boyfriend's head as he talked to the boys in front of him. You wrapped your arms over his shoulder and leaned your head down on his shoulder.
“i have a girlfriend!” his head snapped and he relaxed seeing it was you “oh. sorry.”
“that’s okay, you ready to go?” he nodded “you boys have a ride back?” you looked towards jere and steven
“yeah, taylor said she would take us.” you smiled at steven “when are you gonna ask her out?” conrad moved his arms to rub against yours that were draped over him
“chill, i just don’t wanna upset belly.”
“for fucks sake i’m dating your best friend and you didn’t beat me up.”
“told you.” conrad muttered
“this is different.” he sighed rubbing his face
“it’s not really.” conrad moved to lay his head on your arm giving you the signal it was time to go “just do something at least, con and i are gonna head out.” you pulled your hands away and the man stood from his seat “ready.” he nodded taking your hand in his “be safe tonight, call me if you need anything.”
As you drove home, conrad kept a hand on your thigh but he didn’t say anything and you knew the quietness and depression were slowly coming back from the side effects of his drinking. The whole ride was quiet up until you made it into your room closing the door facing him.
“come here con.” he walked towards you slowly and dipped his head into to crook of your neck and wrapped his arms around you “let’s sleep okay?” he nodded but didn’t let go “con?”
“hm?”
“let’s lay down handsome.” he stepped away from you and you helped him take off his shirt as he slipped out of his jeans left in his boxers and slid into bed “ill be right back, going to get you water.”
“okay.” he softly spoke into the pillow he was laying on
Walking downstairs your mom was also grabbing a midnight snack. She knew he would come over and she also knew he was going through a lot in your 2 years together.
“how is he?” she leaned against the counter as you opened the fridge to grab a water bottle
“it’s a lot, he won’t really talk to me about some of it and i understand.”
“you’re a great girlfriend for him. susannah always loved the thought of you two together.” she grabbed your hand and squeezed it “speaking of conrad.” she nodded behind you, turning around you saw your boyfriend standing at the end of the stairs
“hey, what’s wrong?” you walked towards him
“you left me for a long time.” he rubbed his eyes and you smiled
“come on you big baby, good night mom.”
“night laurel.” conrad muttered
“night kids.” you could hear the humor in her voice
Back up in your room you were both now in bed with the light of the tv shining on the both of you. Conrad’s eyes drifted but he just stared at you.
“can i cuddle you?” he asked softly
“you don’t need to ask.” he moved closer to you hugging you to him, his head on your shoulder and you moved your hand to run though his hair “con?”
“yeah?” you moved to look at him and leaned down to kiss him for the first time that night
“i love you.” he smiled genuinely the first time since you saw him
“i love you.” he closed his eyes and kissed your neck
Soon enough his soft snoring filled the room as you continued to watch your show until you followed him into the dream state.
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