#although no ghost lets him sleep
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Bad places to take a nap
Danny could admit that Hello Kitty pajama pants and a star print shirt wasn't the best choice when it came to meeting another hero, but he was tired and didn't intend to meet another hero at two in the morning either.
After catching Skullker who had decided to leave town in the middle of the night, Danny heard someone calling him, and due to his panic he transformed into his human form. Better to catch a random than an illegal ghost, right?
The halfa could admit that he was a little sleepy when he thought about it. It was obvious that Red Hood didn't know what to make of the boy in pajamas in the middle of Crime Alley, he had expected to see the creature from the pits not someone basically helpless and half asleep holding a thermos of soup.
With a sigh Jason decided it was unwise to leave him there and carried the boy to his safe house, better that option than the random getting mugged. Danny did the wise thing in that strange situation: he fell asleep again in the vigilante's grip, if he had wanted to kill him he would have done it by now wouldn't he?
#dpxdc#the situation is Skullker's fault#he definitely didn't let Danny sleep that day#although no ghost lets him sleep#being a hero is hard work#and Danny's sleep schedule suffers accordingly#dp x dc#dc x dp#Jason heard about the two creatures from the pits#they seemed to be fighting#he chased them but it seemed that one defeated the other#he chased the one that was left and when he finally reached the place he met a boy in pajamas#Danny just wants to sleep#Jason can relate
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the night before they leave for deployment…
… price
- takes you out. you go to an expensive restaurant and eat the best they have. cost is not an issue. price orders two fingers of their finest bourbon and you get a glass of whatever you want. you go for a little walk after, hand in hand, just pretending to be two regular people in a regular relationship. you’re home at a sensible time (price needs to sleep a fair few hours before deploying) and you sit in the bathroom, gazing at him as he trims his moustache with that hard look in his eyes. he’s had last nights like these too many times to be wondering about what is waiting for him in the morning. he knows it won’t be pleasant, so there’s no use in pretending. later, in bed, he pulls you onto his chest and holds you there, knowing the next time it he falls asleep it will be with a cold, hard rifle in his arms. better savour your warm, soft body for as long as he can.
… kyle
- just wants to be intimate with you. not sex, but closeness. you sit him in front of the bathroom mirror and trim his hair, he lays you down on the rug in the living room and works through all your muscle knots. you do facemasks together. you sit side by side on kitchen chairs pulled into the bathroom with your feet in the tub, taking a footbath together. you uncork one of the your fancier bottles of wine (kyle only has a small glass, can’t risk getting hungover the day after) and drink it with your favourite takeout. you go to bed together, holding each other, breathing each other in. if this is the last night, it better be the best night.
… johnny
- has you in his favourite positions. you let him manipulate your body and fulfil his fantasies with you. afterwards you take a long shower together, you touch up is mohawk after, stroke him all over. committing every detail, every scar and mole, to memory. he does the same with you, although you suspect it’s mostly to have wank material for late nights or long watches when he’s deployed. no matter. you order takeout when you’re both dressed again, eat it on the floor in front of the sofa while watching a stupid comedy. anything to take your minds off of the inevitable. you go to bed late and he spoons you. you don’t mind how tightly he holds you, knowing that when you wake up, you will be alone.
… simon
- behaves a little eerie. you don’t know exactly how he changes, how he becomes this ghost-person you have only heard stories of from johnny. you know simon tries to keep you away from it all and never brings work home, least of all his mask. he spends the last night with you on the sofa, him sitting sideways and you on his lap. you’ve ordered good food, and while you eat and watch the movie, he watches you. boring into you with those amber eyes. you don’t comment on it, understanding that this is some kind of ritual for him. knowing that you are real, that you exist, that he needs to come home to you. you speak very little, only pragmatic sentences about passing the pop. the first few times it unnerved you, the way he was so quiet, but now you enjoy getting to be what he needs, however little you understand the process. eventually you both fall asleep on the sofa, and when you wake up you’re tucked neatly into bed, alone.
#john price#captain john price#john price x reader#john price x you#kyle garrick#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick x reader#kyle garrick x you#john mactavish#john soap mactavish#john mactavish x reader#john mactavish x you#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#taskforce 141#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#task force 141 x you#cod mwii#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty mw2#call of duty mwii#sigh straight from the heart
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Homecoming
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
{Daemon Targaryen x Reader} You haven't seen your husband since your passionate wedding night, leaving you to doubt his love. Now, three months later, you're round with child and missing him more than ever—until he suddenly returns.
♡♡ This is purely just to get all my daddy Daemon feelings out, I 100% believe he has a breeding kink. ♡♡
3.2k words - Warnings: smut, major breeding kink, slow sex, so so so much fluff, a little bit of angst and Daemon apologizing in bed...
@elijahstwink @starshipcookie @absolutemarveltrash @odairtrqsh @darkened-writer
@cheneyq @fallout-girl219 @nina6708 @evasmlp @sadmonke
@deamonloverrrr @urmomsgirlfriend1 @moonsleep
It was another quiet night, in a bed far too large for one. The wind was gently blowing through the curtains, bringing with it a cool breeze and the smell of the sea. It was late, and everyone was asleep, yet you laid awake, tossing and turning, unable to fall asleep.
You rolled over onto your side, the silk of the sheets sliding against your bare skin. These days, sleep evaded you, no matter how much you tried. If it wasn't your thoughts keeping you up, it was your changing body and the ever growing life inside of you.
Three months ago you had gotten married to the prince Daemon, a dream of many girls across the kingdom. But your marriage was hardly that. The day after the ceremony you woke up in an empty bed, and hadn't seen your husband since, leaving you to wonder if you had done something wrong.
He had left you no letter, no message. Nothing. Only the memory of your wedding night, the way he touched and kissed you, his sweet whispers of adoration as he made you his. On the loneliest days you would close your eyes and remember it all, his lips on yours, the way his fingers caressed you, the feel of him inside you.
You place your hand on the small bump of your stomach, a smile spreading across your lips. Although it had only been one night, he did his duty and you were pregnant. A piece of him was always with you.
But it wasn't enough.
You longed to see him again, to touch him and be held by him, to tell him of the life growing within you. You wanted so desperately to be with him, but instead you were left with the ghost of his love, a memory that wasn't enough to fill the hole in your heart.
You sighed, trying to push away those thoughts, and attempted to fall asleep, but every time you closed your eyes all you could see was his handsome face. You opened them again and sat up, staring into the darkness.
You could see the light of a torch through the cracks of the door, and the sound of footsteps. You knew exactly who it was, the guard outside your door. His shift was almost over, and soon a new one would be out there, watching over you. There was a muffled conversation, and the sound of someone walking away.
A few moments later the door cracked open, and the torch light poured into the room. Your eyes squinted at the sudden brightness, and as the person entered the room they shut the door.
You were about to give your guard a kindly lecture on waking you up when you noticed that it wasn't the guard who had walked in, but a hooded man. You opened your mouth to call for help, but before you could get a sound out he was at your bedside, his hand covering your mouth.
"Don't scream, my love, it's me." He whispered.
You blinked at the voice, your mind taking a second to process what was happening. Your eyes widened, and you reached for his hand. He took it away from your mouth and intertwined your fingers together, his other hand pulling down his hood.
"Daemon." You breathed, looking up at his face.
The torchlight casted a warm glow on his handsome features, highlighting his strong cheekbones and sharp jawline. His hair was longer than the last time you saw him, hanging past his shoulders, his eyes were dark and clever, looking you over with admiration.
You pulled him towards you, your lips crashing into his. He let out a sigh, a sound that sounded almost pained, and returned your kiss. Then you harshly pushed him away, hitting his chest.
"Where have you been?" You demanded.
"I had matters to attend to." He told you.
"Three months!" You cried. "Three months I waited for you, and you were doing what?"
He smiled and pulled off his cloak, his eyes raking over your form. He reached out to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin.
You wanted to be angry with him, you really did, but the look he was giving you, like he was starved, melted away your resolve. You leaned into his touch and looked up at him through your lashes, a smile tugging at your lips.
"Asshole," You whispered.
"My love." He whispered back, leaning down and placing a kiss to your forehead.
You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another heated kiss. You were angry, yes, but seeing him now made all of that fade away. Your ire could wait until the morning.
His lips were gentle and loving, and you were so happy that you had almost forgotten that he had been gone. He kneeled on the bed and pulled you close, his hands cupping your cheeks.
When he pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, smiling and breathing hard.
"I thought you left me," You admitted, your hands gripping his wrists, as though you could keep him there forever by holding on to him.
He hummed, his nose nuzzling against yours and you pressed yourself closer to him, trying to get as much contact as possible.
His large, warm hands moved down to the swell of your stomach. He placed his palms flat against the bump and leaned back, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Did the maesters tell you?" You asked, placing your hands over his.
He nodded, his eyes lifting up to meet yours. "How are you feeling?" He asked, with such gentle kindness that it made your heart melt.
"Big." You answered, laughing slightly. "I can't wear any of my old clothes, and I have to have new ones made all the time. And the way the ladies look at me when I go out..."
He shook his head, a breathy laugh escaping him, his thumbs caressing your skin. It was true that you had changed since the wedding, your body swelling with his child. You were nervous about how he would react, but the softness in his eyes and the way he touched you told you otherwise.
"I wish I could have told you the news myself, it's a shame you had to hear it from some crusty old maester," you said.
"It is a wonderful thing to return home too," he smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips against yours.
He kissed you deeply, his arms wrapping around your waist. You smiled into the kiss, your fingers weaving through his long, silver hair. You could feel his lips turn up against yours, and you both pulled away.
He looked at you for a moment, his eyes raking over your features, a smirk tugging at his lips. His hands trailed down your sides, sending a wave of heat through you.
"My prince," you said softly, your fingers brushing along his cheekbone. "We've already made a baby. You don't have to do this."
He laughed, and shook his head, a look in his eyes you couldn't decipher. "I forget just how innocent you are," he said, his hands trailing down to your thighs.
“Well, whose fault is that?” You teased, smiling up at your handsome husband.
You sucked in a breath as he leaned down, his lips trailing kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing over your skin.
"It's true, I've been away for too long, my lady wife has forgotten what it is I crave," he breathed against your skin, his lips finding yours once more.
Your hands slid down his shoulders and arms, feeling his muscles. He pulled back slightly and tugged off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.
"You have gotten bigger as well," you said, running your hands across his chest, feeling the hard muscles.
He smirked, a cocky gleam in his eyes. "Oh?"
"It suits you," you said, a playful smile on your lips.
His hand came to rest on the side of your neck, his fingers caressing your jaw. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip and he leaned in, capturing your mouth with his.
"And you are more beautiful than the day we wed," he said, his voice husky.
"My prince flatters me." You breathed, a blush rising on your cheeks.
His eyes went to the ties on your nightdress, a row of pretty little bows that went down to the valley of your breasts. He tugged at one of the ribbons, the fabric becoming loose.
He pushed it aside and his hand moved up to caress your breast, his thumb rubbing your nipple, causing you to gasp.
"Still as sensitive." He said, a smirk on his lips.
He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, before gently biting down. You tugged hard on his hair, your legs kicking and squirming as he continued to play with you.
"Daemon," you moaned.
He hummed, the vibration causing a wave of pleasure to wash over you. He let go of your nipple, and his mouth moved lower, placing hot kisses along your skin, his hand pushing up your night dress.
"Perhaps a bit more sensitive." He commented, his hand brushing along your thigh.
He hooked a finger into the waistband of your small clothes and pulled them off. You were now naked, your body on full display for him, and he leaned back and admired his work. His hand on the swell of your belly, his thumb tracing over a stretch mark.
"Beautiful." He said, a sincerity in his voice that made your heart skip a beat.
You looked away, suddenly shy. You had only spent one night with him, and now he was here again. His touch, his words, they all still had an affect on you, making your stomach flutter and heart race.
He leaned down, and pressed a kiss to your bump, his hand resting on the side of it, his lips trailing lower. You smiled softly, and ran your fingers through his hair, the silver strands smooth between your fingers.
His hand came to rest on your thighs, gently coaxing your legs open. You watched as he positioned himself between them, his head almost disappearing behind your bump.
His eyes flickered up to yours, and his smirk was all too knowing, causing you to blush and turn away. He leaned forward, his tongue darting out and licking up your slit.
You gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. He did it again, this time focusing his attention on that sensitive little spot he introduced to you on your wedding night. He placed a soft kiss on it, his tongue circling it.
"Dae-ah," you moaned, trying to muffle the sound by pressing a hand over your mouth.
You didn't know if it was the fact that you were pregnant, or maybe that you missed him more than anything, but everything felt different, his touch more intense.
His hands gripped the backs of your thighs, holding you down as his tongue licked and circled you. His mouth moved down and his tongue slid into you, making you arch and cry out. He lapped at your arousal, his tongue going in and out, the sounds he made, the hums and sighs, driving you wild.
He groaned, a sound that vibrated through your entire body, and his tongue went up, swirling around that little spot again, his mouth closing over it.
You moaned his name, your thighs squeezing him, your whole body trembling as your release washed over you.
He placed a few more kisses to the inside of your thighs before rising up, his hair messy and face glistening with you. He wiped his face with his arm and leaned down, his lips capturing yours.
You could taste yourself on him, and you kissed him hard, your hand tangling into his hair, the other reaching down to the ties of his trousers. He helped you undo them, and kicked off his pants.
His hard length sprung free, and you wrapped a hand around it, causing him to let out a shaky moan. He pressed his forehead against yours, his hand cupping your cheek, and his eyes locking onto yours.
You slowly started to stroke him, and he let out another moan, his eyes fluttering closed, his breath hot against your skin.
"My love," he groaned, his hips thrusting into your hand.
You loved the effect you had on him, the control you had. To have the prince of dragonstone, the most dangerous man in the realm, at the palm of your hand, made your heart flutter.
His hand found yours, and he guided it away from his length, a whine leaving your throat. He chuckled and gave you a quick kiss before positioning himself between your legs.
He slowly pushed himself in, causing you both to moan. It hurt a little, just like the first time, but his hands were on your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin, and he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, letting you adjust.
"My love, I'm not going to break," you said.
He smirked and gave a shallow thrust, a gasp leaving you.
"I can't be too careful with what is mine." He said, leaning down and giving you a heated kiss.
He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, his hand sliding up the length of your leg, coming to rest on your bump, his other hand planted next to your head, holding himself up.
He started to move, his length slowly sliding in and out, the pace slow and gentle. You could feel every inch of him, rubbing against that perfect spot. A soft moan left you, and you reached out, your hands on his chest, feeling the hand planes of muscle underneath his skin.
His thumb caressed your belly, his eyes never leaving your face, studying every detail, memorizing each feature. You felt so exposed under his gaze and turned away, your cheeks flushed.
He smiled, a soft, loving smile, and kissed you.
"How I've missed you, my beautiful wife," he said, his voice thick with emotion.
You looked up at him, seeing nothing but love in his eyes. It was the way he had looked at you at your wedding, the two of you standing there in the sept, whispering promises to each other. The world had disappeared around you, and in that moment you were the only people that existed.
He kissed you again, and began moving a little faster, the sound of his hips meeting yours filling the room. He groaned, his hand still gently stroking your bump.
"I can't believe such a perfect creature could bear my child," he said, his eyes trailing down to where his hand rested.
"Our child," you corrected, giving him a teasing smile.
He hummed, leaning back and wrapping his arms around your waist and helping you into a sitting position. He pulled you onto his lap, and you moaned at the way he was buried deeper inside you.
His lips left open mouth kisses on your shoulders, and his hands rested on your hips, guiding you. You braced yourself on his shoulders, his hands back on your bump as you moved. You knew he liked the feel of it, and he couldn't get enough.
Your name left his lips as you bounced in his lap, his hands cupping your ass, squeezing you. You moaned, your hands sliding into his hair, tugging at the silver locks. You were growing louder, your body humming, that feeling building within you.
"Not too loud, my love," he whispered. "I do not wish for the guards to hear,"
A moan, that was halfway to a laugh escaped you, and he cut it off with a deep kiss. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, as you kept moving, the feeling of your release building.
"For your lovely sounds are only for me," he continued, his voice in your ear.
You let out another shaky moan, his hands squeezing you. He was moving his hips to meet yours, and you could feel him shaking beneath you. His hands gripped your hips tighter, and pulled you harder, his voice soft yet commanding as he talked you closer to your peak.
Your hands gripped his arms and back, and when he said your name, a deep, low groan that sounded almost pained, you toppled over the edge, falling in a pool of ecstasy. All the pent up emotions and frustration that you had been holding in were released, and you let go of a final moan that you muffle in the crook of his neck.
He followed soon after, capturing your lips in a heated kiss and letting out a deep, satisfied moan. You clung to him, afraid that he might disappear if you didn't. His arms were wrapped around your middle, cradling you close to him, his lips pressed to your temple.
The two of you breathed in each other's air, a simple shared breath, your foreheads pressed together, your eyes closed. You could feel his lips on your sweat slicked skin, his fingertips still caressing your bump.
When you both had returned to your senses, he gently laid you back on the bed. He leaned down, the tip of his nose nuzzling against yours, and peppered your face with little kisses. You smiled and let your eyes flutter open, finding him staring at you, a sweet, lovestruck look in his eye.
He grabbed the blanket, and covered your naked form with it, tucking it around you, almost protectively. He crawled under with you,his head resting against your chest, his hand still protectively cradling the swell of your stomach.
You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and ran your fingers through his hair, smiling. He looked up at you, his eyes sleepy, and he pressed a kiss to your bump.
"I hope it's a boy," you said, continuing to stroke his hair. "With the most handsome features, and a true warrior, like his father."
"Mm," he hummed, his eyes closing, and his arms wrapping around your waist. "I hope it is a girl, a daughter that looks just like her mother."
He was silent for a moment, and you wondered if he had fallen asleep, when his eyes suddenly opened.
"Or perhaps both," he said, his voice serious, a glimmer of something in his eyes.
"Twins?" You laughed. "I don't think I could handle two little dragons running about."
He chuckled, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin. "I will be here to help you," he said, his eyes meeting yours. "I am not going anywhere."
"You better not," you warned, poking his chest. "You've kept me waiting long enough."
He laughed again and caught your wrist, bringing your finger to his lips and placing a gentle kiss there. He slid his arms back around you, and pulled you close, your foreheads touching, your noses brushing.
You were content, your heart filled with so much love for him, and as his breathing evened out and his eyelids drooped, you knew he felt the same. You drifted off to sleep, dreaming of what was to come. Of a big family, a happy life, and many more nights just like this one.
#house of the dragon#daemon targaryen#hotd#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen smut#daemon targaryen x y/n#a song of ice and fire#asoiaf#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen x you#daemon targaryen fanfic#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#hotd x reader#hotd fic#hotd imagine#daemon x y/n#daemon x you#daemon x reader#daemon smut#hotd daemon#house of the dragon smut#house of the dragon fic#daemon fanfic#daemon fic#hotd daemon targaryen
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Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.
Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.
——
By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.
Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.
He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.
Mia had been insufferable ever since.
It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)
Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.
There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.
Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.
Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?
It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.
Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.
“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”
“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”
Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”
“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.
Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”
“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”
Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”
“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”
“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”
“Danny!” Mia called.
Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”
(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)
After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”
Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.
#danny is just some guy#I’m still on Danny’s pov#it’s just sillier from his perspective#batman#batfamily#batboys#batman fandom#dick grayson#batman wayne family adventures#danny phantom#dp x dc#dpxdc#dc x dp crossover#dp dc crossover#dp x dc crossover#dp crossover#dc x dp#dcxdp#tim drake#tim drake wayne#danny fenton#I added a little OC#Mia the OC
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Forget me not
-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English. Yan! Batfamily x gn! reader Chapters Chapter 1 (You're here) Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 1
You can't remember a time when you didn't live under the roof of Wayne Manor. Those hallways that for a 4-year-old child seemed chilling and eternal, today you consider a prison. And no, they don't keep you locked up or anything like that, in fact they give you a lot of freedom within this house, but you can consider that so-called 'freedom' as negligence.
Yes, negligence. Of course you had clothes to wear, a bed to sleep in, a roof to shelter in, but what about love? If they could ask you if you have ever felt loved in your home, the answer would be simple.
No not once
Bruce Wayne, your father, may be one of the biggest billionaires in this world but it seems his love and attention was limited towards you. But, with your brothers? It seemed to be an endless well of love and patience that he gave them.
Unconditional love, something you always looked for.
Or maybe he was busy owning one of the most successful companies in the world or cosplaying a vampire to help the city.
Yes… in short, Bruce no longer knew what excuse to give himself for not spending time with you.
And your brothers? They weren't much better. Richard "Dick" Grayson may be very loving and charming but with you? You were just a zero on the left. He didn't think you needed attention as much as his traumatized brothers and sisters. You, being a normal civilian, knew that you were safe from anything, so he only limited himself to greeting you with that little smile that at first seemed warm to you, but now it just cracks your teeth to see it.
As if he were the perfect brother.
Jason Todd was everything to you until it became nothing. You met him in his days as Robin and the truth is he was nice to you and you had a good relationship with him (they are only three years apart). When Dick wasn't at the mansion he would play with you and let you watch him train. He was your greatest confidant, your best friend… Until the Joker killed him. When he came back to life you couldn't recognize him, was he really your brother? A being full of hate and revenge? So much so that even though he saw you once after years, he just turned around.
And although he already has a better relationship with his family, it seems that your loving relationship as brothers ended that day he died. He didn't even look at you, much less talk to you.
What a hypocrite.
You can't say anything about Timothy Drake. Seriously, and it's not because he's a great brother, it's because you've literally never talked to him. You only know of his existence because of the times Dick shouted his name in excitement at him every time he came to the mansion and because you found out that Todd wanted to kill him. Furthermore, your room and his are in the same hallway with the slight difference that your room was at the end.
Spoiled child...
Damian Wayne was a totally unique case. He was violent and explosive but apparently your father preferred him over you. Damian considered you a zero on the left. He never found value in you, neither in your physique (you didn't fight), nor in your mind (you're not outstanding) so he didn't waste even a second insulting you or degrading you.
According to him, you were just a nuisance to the Wayne family and a disappointment to the Batfamily. And it didn't matter if you were going to complain to Bruce about Damian's behavior, he always made excuses for it.
Is this how unconditional love looks like?
Cassandra Cain was another ghost like you inside the mansion... With the only difference that she did pay attention to her even though she didn't talk much. She was never interested in interacting with you even though you tried several times.
Even a mute could attract more attention than you...
Stephanie Brown. An extroverted girl who wasn't afraid to give her opinion, but apparently she didn't have any opinion about you. She always gets excited to see others and she was quick to look for things to do with them. But, if she saw you, she would just give you a slightly awkward smile and she would get out of there quickly.
She runs away from you like you have the plague.
Barbara Gordon is seen by most of the family as an older sister, however you see her as a grumpy secretary. You could be the most respectful person in the world towards her but just seeing you next to her asking what she was doing made her look at you as if you were a villain she is looking for.
I'm sure she hasn't seen a villain with the irritation she sees you with.
Duke Thomas is the new addition to the Wayne Family. You have nothing against him, he is a kind and smiling boy. Who you could even consider to be the kindest to you of all your brothers.
When he first came to Wayne Manor, despite you being a nobody in that family, he took an interest in you. At first you thought he did it out of pity, but when one day you heard him asking Alfred where you were because he wanted to show you something, that's when you realized he wasn't doing it out of pity. And that made you feel special, being the sibling Duke turned to.
But you couldn't help but hate how easily he integrated into the family. How easily they accepted him.
And last but not least, Alfred Pennyworth. He tried to be there for you and he encouraged you to keep trying to get your family's attention. But even with the butler's attention you couldn't help but long for the affection of your father and brothers.
You are more sure that without him you would have gone crazy in that big mansion.
For that reason, the only ones you would miss once you left that place would be Alfred and Duke.
"Would you be mad at me if I decided to leave the mansion?”
What a bad way to start a conversation.
You were sitting at the kitchen counter. As was custom you watched Alfred make breakfast, occasionally helping him. The butler, upon hearing your question, momentarily stopped what he was doing. Thanks to his poker face, Alfred didn't show any surprise but you knew well that he wasn't expecting that question.
"Pardon me, master (name)?”
"Would you forget about me if I left the mansion?" you asked
"Of course not!" Alfred quickly answered, his tone of voice a little high. However, upon noticing the change in his tone of voice he composed his posture again.
“I mean, of course I would never forget you, master (name). Why do you ask me those questions?”
"You know why Alfie" you sighed.
Alfred likewise sighed and turned off the stove where he was cooking. He walked over to you and sat down in front of you.
"Master (name)…" he was saying but you interrupted him.
"No Alfred… Could you let me talk… please..?" you asked gently but firmly
"Since I came to this place fifteen years ago I have always been part of the ghosts of this mansion and- and I got tired of being that. For a long time I have been thinking about moving somewhere else, away from this mansion, away from them…” You said that last sentence angrier but you controlled your temper.
"But… I can't leave knowing that you don't agree with my decision. I can't stand the thought of you being angry with me.”
You couldn't even imagine a world where he, Alfred Pennyworth, the man who decided to take your father's tablecloth, was angry with you. But even if he gets angry at your decision, you are going to follow your plan to leave the city.
Alfred smiled slightly and took your hand.
"You know very well that I would support you in whatever my little one does. Unless that decision put your life in danger of course" they both laughed at that comment.
"So that's a yes?" you asked with hope in your eyes and voice
"Yes" he nodded "Just take care of yourself"
You could see in his eyes that there was a bit of fear in his eyes as well as something else that you didn't know what it was and you didn't pay attention to it at that moment.
You should have paid more attention to him in that moment.
"Thanks Alfie" you hugged him regardless of the fact that the table was between the two of you. The butler hugged you anyway, his hug felt warm and safe.
"You don't have to thank me, Master (name)"
Then you broke away from the hug and ran to your room with a big smile on your face. You were finally going to be able to live the way you wanted, without living in the shadow of everyone. Finally free.
Once in your room you started making some calls and organizing your things quietly (not that the inhabitants of this mansion cared much about what you did) so as not to attract attention. In a week, this place will only be a bad dream and you will be able to move from this nightmare to a dream with a happy ending.
Or not?
Hellooo! I hope you liked the start of this story! To be honest, this has been something I have wanted to do for a long time. And Let me remind you that English isn't my first language so if you find some mistakes I would appreciate fo you to tell me in a good way.
Anyway, if you liked it I'll appreciate for you leave a heart.
See you in the next one!!
-Izadi <3
#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#dc comics#batfamily x reader#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere bruce wayne#yandere damian wayne#yandere duke thomas#yandere alfred pennyworth#yandere cassandra cain#yandere stephanie brown#yandere tim drake#yandere barbara gordon#batfam#batfamily#batfamily x batsis!reader#batfamily x male reader#batfam fanfic#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#damian wayne#tim drake wayne#damian wayne al ghul#bruce wayne#alfred pennyworth#barbara gordon#cassandra cain
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༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; newlyweds.
warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, afab! reader, v! penetration, heavily unedited
.: masterlist.
simon was not thrilled when you told him you didn’t want to sleep with him before the wedding, something about it being “bad luck”. at first he didn’t understand but he was willing to oblige, sleeping in the guest room didn’t sound too bad; although he didn’t like the idea of sleeping in a cold bed while you were just a room away — but fighting with you was never a battle he won.
except, when you clarified that you didn’t want to ‘fuck’ before your wedding, he was not having it. he couldn’t stop the baffled laugh that slipped from his lips. it didn’t make sense, you weren’t a virgin; he had the pleasure of stuffing you full of his cock many times while dating. to say he was confused was an understatement.
but, what the bride wants, the bride gets. so weeks go by where simon has to take care of his growing problem by himself; just to tease you, and hopefully make you regret your decision, he’ll get off in bed, right before you go to sleep.
simon will have you watch the way he tugs at his cock with need, his head tilted back with grunts and an uneven breath. his chest heaving as thick ropes of his cum spurt onto his exposed abdomen. he’ll give you a sly smirk before climbing out of bed, his boxers tugged up but hanging too low revealing his v-line.
it takes everything in you to stick to your word, watch every night as simon adds the lewd task into his daily routine. eventually, he’s the one that breaks, the way he stumbles into your shared bedroom and finds you with a hand between your thighs – his name spewing from your lips when you catch sight of him.
he wishes he could say ‘i told you so’ when you’re begging for him, needing to relieve the ache that’s been dwelling in your tummy for so long. he takes one look at your sopping cunt and wonders how long you’ve been trying to stuff your fingers inside of you knowing that they couldn’t reach that gummy spot only he could.
simon shakes his head with a chuckle, taking his time to settle himself between your legs. he kisses your knees, hiking them over his shoulder and winding his arms around your thighs to keep you still. with his thumbs, he’s spreading your folds – a teasing tut and tilt of the head are all you need from him to know that he’ll never let you hear the end of it.
he has to swallow a groan, hard eyes glued to your leaking hole. your juices dribbling from your cunt and dripping onto the bedsheets. “you sure you wanna keep up with your stupid idea? i can make you feel good, take care of you the way you need.” simon asks, almost begging for you to quit being stubborn this once and let him relieve you – to let him fuck you stupid so he can spill his cum deep inside of you instead of wasting it and wiping it off of his chest with a towel.
he just wants to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him, hear your moans as his fat tip nudges against that one spot that makes your walls flutter around his cock. simon’s rutting his hips into the mattress, too lost in his lewd thoughts to hear you reject his suggestion. when he does he’s dropping his head with a low growl.
he never thought he would hate your friends, but he could kill the person who told you about this stupid suspicion. simon is a good boyfriend, he’ll show you how good of a husband he will be too. reluctantly accommodating to your wishes, he stuffs his fingers inside of you instead of his throbbing cock.
oddly enough, he finds himself loving this more. the way your slick coats his hand – his engagement ring. simon is moaning at the sight, his simple soon-to-be wedding band glistening in the dim light as he finger fucks your tight hole.
“aw, honey. s’too much?” he coos, curling his fingers inside of you and pressing his thumb to your clit. he nips at the inside of your thigh and grins at the way your legs tremble, your back arched off the mattress. with his free hand he wraps it around your wrist, squeezing it lightly so you’d loosen your tight grip on the bedsheets below. intertwining your fingers with his, he works you up to another orgasm, talking you through it.
“just like that, baby.” “cum all over my fingers, soak this pretty lil’ ring.”
as much as he enjoys fingering you with his ring on, he loves it when you take a bit of control and take care of him the same way. rubbing over his clothed erection with your left hand, the big diamond on your engagement band looking small next to his sore, hard cock.
simon’s eyes flutter when you squeeze his shaft, precum leaking from his slit and slowly dribbling over your fingers – over your ring, coating the big diamond. he’ll guide your hand up and down his shaft urging you to go quicker, he loves the way your soft hands feel compared to his calloused ones.
he’s bucking his hips upwards into your hand, his head tilted back while he’s whining desperately. simon normally keeps his noises under control but he hasn’t felt your touch in so long.
“fuck, a-ah. can’t wait to marry you and fuck you right.”
his breath hitches when you squeeze his angry red tip, the cool metal of your ring rubbing against his slit. with a deep groan he’s cumming all over your hand; watching with wide eyes, the way your fingers play with his hot, sticky cum.
after your wedding ceremony, simon drags the both of you into the bathroom. shamelessly, he’s bending you over the sink, unzipping his trousers, and hiking your wedding dress up.
“si, we can’t. people are waiting for us.” you squeal when he snaps the garter against your thigh, his rough hands squeezing your hips and pulling your thong down. simon only rolls his eyes, leaning down and spitting on your exposed pussy. he rubs his cock between your folds, using his spit as a lubricant.
“they can wait, m’gonna take care of my wife first.”
how could you say no, especially to your husband?
AN: i know nothing about weddings or marriage, but i heart hubby si
#[ ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒. ]#whiny simon ????#ugh but#( 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 ᡣ𐭩 ྀིྀ )#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x reader smut#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader smut#simon ghost riley#ghost#ghost x reader#ghost x reader smut#cod#call of duty#cod smut#call of duty smut#cod mwiii#cod mwii#cod mw3#cod mw2#mwii#mwiii#mw2#mw3
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He had tasted you once; now, he craves every inch of your being, his hunger insatiable.
Little death—a gift he bestowed upon her, and which she bestows upon him in turn. As her lifeblood touches his lips, Astarion reminisces about the fateful eve when he first sank his fangs into her pretty neck.
Come, gentle night; and when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars.
Astarion x Tav (F!Reader)
w/c: 3.1k words . ao3 . spotify playlist . 18+ only . nsfw . dividers
a/n: I can't be the only one who is convinced my man is down bad since the very first bite, right? he is so interesting to me! I wanted to explore this idea further, hopefully I did it justice. thank you for reading!
tags: blood drinking; fluff & smut; possessive behavior; masturbation; body worship; mildly dubious consent; dry humping; somnophilia
“Later on, when we are at rest, I will eat you right up. Just enough to give me strength, and just enough to leave you wishing for more.”
Footsteps. You hear them approaching, although in your half-unconscious torpor, you can’t tell if they’re near or far. You’re likewise unsure of what has disturbed your sleep, even if as of late, nights have been restless and plagued by nightmares, the worm etched in the recesses of your brain a constant, unforgiving reminder of your plight. Your mind is still hazy, fragments of your dreams clouding your thoughts, so you rely on your primal instincts instead—you smell nothing but the crisp evening air, feel nothing but the cool breeze caressing your warm body, see nothing but endless darkness from behind your closed eyelids, but your ears don’t fail you. You instinctively hold your breath, muscles tensed, staying as still as possible as if playing dead; the footsteps are now almost upon you, the crunching of leaves growing louder and muffling the noise of the crickets singing, and your skin becomes covered in goosebumps in anticipation, the pit of your stomach twisting and turning. Whoever it is, you seem to be their intended target.
Suppressing the mounting panic rising within your chest, you try to gather your bearings and make sense of the situation. You know where you are—Elturgard, or more specifically, a camp in the wilderness, somewhere between Elturel and Baldur’s Gate. Finding a cure for the parasite wriggling in your head is the reason you’re here, and the companions with whom you’re sharing your camp are afflicted by the same condition. Ah, your companions—the footsteps must belong to one of them, surely. The soothing heat of the campfire has significantly dwindled compared to how it was when you turned in, its crackling so low you can barely hear it, and the night is sufficiently chilly that your bedroll fails to offer enough shelter, so you wonder if they are about to tend to the dying flames, or maybe ask you to help them do so. You wait expectantly, pricking up your ears, but suddenly, the crunching sounds come to a halt, and you sense a presence looming over you. A shiver runs down your spine, and your heart starts beating faster, thumping so loudly you’re afraid it may give away your awakened state. The presence silently kneels down beside you, crawling even closer, too close for comfort; and then, you feel it—cold digits ghosting over your cheek, their featherlight touch almost tentatively soft.
Astarion.
Now you remember. You offered to let him feed on you earlier, a habit which you’ve unexpectedly picked up in recent days, although the reason for such eludes you. Perhaps it was his pained expression when he asked you the first time, or maybe something else—you’re not entirely certain, but the fact of the matter is, he is here, except unlike other nights, you are fully aware of your surroundings. Not only that, it has been no more than a fortnight since your little tryst in that pretty clearing, which it seems both of you are intent on pretending never happened. You more so than him—it would be insincere of you to claim you haven’t noticed the dangerous glint in his eyes, how he leans closer when you talk, the cunning smirks and wistful glances. Truth be told, you’re still unsure what to make of it all; none of it is how you expected it would be, not your time together, and certainly not the aftermath. Him, too—though it may be bold of you to assume so, you can’t help but think that his show of vulnerability, however brief, had not been intentional. Ever so often you idly muse over the raw perplexity etched across his face when you invited him to drink from you then, how he looked at you in utter disbelief, letting the mask of a debonair lover slip for a split second; how his kisses became more fervent, his touches less calculated, the confusion never truly seeming to leave him until you were done. And then, the morning after—the hurt in his voice, the complex feelings he appeared to be trying to suppress seeping from every word, as if he had been prepared for anything and everything but genuine yearning, and you ruined it all for him.
“This isn’t about hunger. It’s about pleasure.”
The digits on your cheek slide downwards, gliding across the curve of your jaw and towards your slender neck, where they stop for a brief moment, only to then press down on it, feeling around as if searching for something—an artery, pulsing so very tantalizingly with your precious crimson, a feast set out entirely for him. With his other hand, he gently runs his fingers through your hair and brushes it behind your shoulder, exposing his prize, and repositioning himself to straddle you, he lowers his head until his mouth is hovering right above it. He stays like this for a while, and your blood runs cold as it dawns on you that he may have noticed you are not asleep, but before long, his skin finally comes into contact with yours—however, rather than the sharp pain you’d been expecting, you feel only the pillowy softness of his lips; a tender kiss, which is then followed by another, and then another. One of his hands stays tangled in your hair, cradling your head, and he splays the other on the ground beside you to support himself. His fangs lightly graze the throbbing vein with each peck, almost teasingly, until finally, he sinks them into the sensitive flesh, carefully and steadily so as not to wake you. The uncomfortable sensation is not foreign to you, although it is clear he has become more accustomed to this, even if you have not; his technique has significantly improved, and after the initial stab, it hardly hurts anymore, other than a dull ache every time he swallows, which he does quite enthusiastically.
“Just you and me and—well, maybe a little death?”
Letting out low grunts and guttural moans as he drinks, Astarion sucks ever so vigorously, seemingly more at ease due to your apparent lack of consciousness. Your face gradually grows warmer as you notice tension building up low in your stomach, the noises he makes and the feeling of his plush lips and wet tongue against your skin causing your body to react with pathetic wantonness. You try to stifle the impending arousal, doing your best to remind yourself that he is only feeding, nothing more, nothing less; until you notice the hand on which he had been leaning make its way from its place on the ground to rest on your waist, gingerly moving upwards until his long fingers brush against the plump of one of your breasts, almost as if by accident—it is, however, no accident when two of them then pinch a pebbling nipple through the thin fabric of your nightshirt, delicately massaging the pert nub while the others knead the squishy surrounding flesh. The ache between your legs swells with desire, and you flusteredly bite back the whimper threatening to escape the confines of your closed mouth; believing you to be deep in slumber, he has no reason for such restraint, and his vocalizations increase in frequency and volume alike.
Having to now use his upper body strength to keep himself propped up, he decides to instead gently fall on top of you, momentarily unlatching from your neck to then slightly push you to the side and press his strong chest flush against your back, one hand woven in your hair and the other cupping your breast still. With almost desperate keenness, he hooks one of his legs over yours, shoving his crotch against your rear, and immediately you notice the rock hard bulge nudging the space between your buttocks. The tips of your ears burn bright red at this realization, making you wonder how common of an occurrence this must be; as your mind wanders to the night when he first bit you, he sinks his fangs back into the bruised vein, and your eyes water a little due to the sudden pain, which you quickly forget about once you feel his hips start almost imperceptibly grinding against your own. Wedging the bulge deeper within the valley of your ass, he moves it to and fro, almost in rhythm with his sucking of your blood, the digits on your bosom earnestly playing with your nipple and those in your hair tenderly caressing the tousled tresses.
“Hm—hnng…” Astarion groans lewdly, lasciviously, making suggestive wet sounds while sensually lapping at your crimson. No longer satisfied to feel you up through your clothes, he sticks his hand under your shirt, and his cold fingers quickly resume fondling the soft skin of your breast, in response to which shock waves shoot up your legs and arms. Freeing the digits tangled in your hair, he brings them to your ribs, sliding their pads along your navel and down towards your groin, where he then firmly grabs one of your supple thighs. That’s when it occurs to you how unlike your night together he seems to be acting—eagerly exploring your body with almost adolescent clumsiness, his movements sloppy and impulsive, he appears to be entirely focused on taking rather than giving; having no reason to try to impress you, he acts greedily instead, intent on achieving his own personal ecstasy above all else, a fact that doesn’t bother so much as instill in you a puzzling sense of relief.
Increasing the pace of his thrusts, he tightens the grip of his leg around yours, and for a short while you all but forget that your crimson is running down his throat still, unable to focus on anything but the heat irradiating from his skin as it becomes ever warmer the more he feeds. When you notice you can no longer feel the tips of your toes, it is far too late—a tingling sensation spreads across your heavy limbs due to the loss of blood, and holding onto a single thought proves far too difficult, your mind now a messy whirlwind of memories and abstractions. Your arousal persists even as your conscience starts to wane; slick soaks through your underpants, the sweet scent of which causes Astarion to immediately stop moving, freezing as if caught with his fingers inside the cookie jar. After what seems like an eternity, both his hands and fangs leave your helpless form, and he shuffles behind you, presumably looking for something—before you can even begin to wonder what, you feel him press a soft piece of fabric against the fresh set of bite marks on your neck, which he uses to gently wipe the thick red blooming from the small wounds.
Worried that any further stimulation might disturb your sleep, he decides to attempt a less bold approach instead, pulling away slightly, although your legs remain twisted together. Barely awake now, the echoes of the forest reach your ears in hushed, distant hums, but you can still hear him as he brings the bloodstained cloth to his nose, taking in your scent deeply, eyes closed and a libidinous moan falling from his pretty lips. One of his now freed hands hastily makes its way to the waistband of his pants, only to then slip under it, and as soon as his elegant digits brush against the velvety crown of his cock, he wraps them around its engorged girth, squeezing lightly and drawing pearly droplets of precome from the weeping slit.
“Mngh…” he croaks, his voice raspy and hoarse, and you can’t tell for sure, but a whisper that vaguely sounds like your own name wafts through the air and vanishes into the evening sky as he starts sliding his hand up and down his length, smearing the clear liquid seeping from the leaking tip all over himself. Prior to your night of passion, this is how he would choose to relieve the painful erection inevitably provoked by his daily feedings, only he would retreat to his tent then; once you became more intimate, things changed, and raw eroticism would percolate into every session, images of your moments together sweeping through his mind and springing his aching sex to life with each gulpful of your lifeblood. The instant you offered him your neck, all he had ever known suddenly came into question—drinking from you while balls-deep into your tight cunt was an experience unlike any other, to the point of almost completely resignifying the concept of pleasure for him. By owning your body, he had made you his, even if only temporarily; your blind trust was something he had never before experienced, and not once had he felt so powerful as with you squirming under him, completely submitting to his whims.
“Astarion, please…” he recalls you whimpering, the sound of his name on your pink tongue so enticingly sultry, stirring up in him all sorts of conflicting feelings; lust, infatuation, guilt, anger, all blended together and indistinguishable from one another. How beautiful a vision you had made then—such a pretty, luscious thing, flushed cheeks and half-lidded eyes glinting with coquettish longing. The more he finds himself caring, the more he hates you for it; the more his hatred for you grows, the more he wants you by his side. Choosing to manipulate you into a tactical alliance was the culmination of careful and meticulous deliberation—at once deadly and most pleasing to the eye, yet seemingly unaware of either fact; a naive, kind fool, lost and alone, his perfect target from every angle, you were the obvious candidate. He had no way of knowing at the time—how you would unwittingly beat him at his own game and steal your way into his undead heart, without even really trying.
While pumping his now glistening cock, your precious face is all Astarion can think of, every detail of it perpetually burned onto his retinas—long, thick lashes, curtaining doe-like eyes; sweet little freckles speckling the bridge of your nose; smooth skin and plump rosy lips, so soft and kissable. And your scent, oh, your scent—delicious and intoxicating, such a lovely, delectable bouquet. Although now warm, his hand could never compare to the feeling of your slickened walls clenching and fluttering around him, and no amount of pressure would ever be able to replicate the sensation of stretching them open, coaxing yelps and cute whiny pants out of you with each nudge of your cervix. He wonders for a moment what other expressions he has yet to witness you make; in what other manners he has yet to take you, in what other positions he has yet to watch you come undone. Maybe on all fours, that round ass of yours sticking out so very invitingly, begging to be devoured; maybe on your knees, darkened lips wrapped tightly around his cock, eyes watering and drool dripping down onto the swollen peaks of your perky breasts as you accommodate all of him like the good girl you are. Each idea is more enticing than the one before, and the very thought of acquainting himself with all the ins and outs of your body makes him feel alive, bulging veins and tumid cockhead pulsating madly against his sweaty palm as he goes over the endless possibilities. He had tasted you once; now, he craves every inch of your being, his hunger insatiable.
“Mine…” he growls possessively, picturing your tits bouncing and the rouged knot atop your dripping core throbbing for him as he feels his climax draw nearer, rubbing the cloth sullied with your crimson against his nose, your taste still fresh in his mouth and a trail of red running down his chin. You are not his, not yet, but although he curses himself for it, he would bring his simple plan to fruition, for all the wrong reasons; he wants you, he needs you—his own little bundle of joy, his light in the darkness, his glimmer of solace, his, his, his, and his alone. He won’t share your kindness, not with your companions, not with anyone, and he cares not if his greediness makes him unworthy, for he never deserved any of it in the first place; regardless, you’d still extend a hand to the wretch who put a knife to your throat, toyed with your emotions and sucked you dry, in more ways than one. You may not realize it, but in sharing your life essence with him, you breathed color into his world, roused within his soul a vital spark he’d long forgotten had once ever been there. He may not be entitled to it, but he’d still have it all—he’d still have you, to the bone and beyond.
“Oh, gods…” With one last stroke, Astarion empties himself on his hand and stomach, legs convulsing and hips stuttering, letting go of the cloth to then nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, lips pressed against the bloodied gashes maculating your otherwise flawless skin. The inside of his pants is now covered in come, yet even as the thick fluid runs uncomfortably down his thighs, he feels strangely at peace—happy, even. His softening cock twitches and jerks still, but fearing that his luck may soon run out, he lets go of it and wipes his fingers on the hem of his shirt, which he learns is also stained with his seed; once they’re sufficiently clean, he wraps both of his arms around your waist in a tight embrace, focusing on the gentle raising of your chest as you inhale ever so softly, finally at rest.
“This is a gift, you know.”
He won’t forget it. Regardless of what may lie ahead, he won’t. Warm flesh, beating heart; as your crimson courses through his veins, the thread of life now connects you both, your fates forever intertwined. When morning comes, all will be back to normal, but for now, he shall hold you, cradle you, as he would a lover. A true lover—though what would that be, if not prey that wakes by his side once the dawn breaks? Disturbing as that thought may be, it is of little import for now; basking in the clarity of death, he allows himself a moment of reprieve, for your time together is far from over. What treasures will the future bestow? Why—finding out is but a matter of waiting.
#personal#astarion#bg3#astarion x tav#bg3 fic#astarion smut#astarion x female reader#astarion x you#astarion x reader#tavstarion#my fics#fic: bloodless
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𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪 𝗩𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗦 𝗪 𝗛𝗣 𝗕𝗢𝗬𝗦
ft. harry j. potter, ron weasley, draco malfoy, cedric diggory, sirius black, remus lupin
warnings. aged up!! nsfw content, MDNI! mostly soft sex but rough sex is also included, twitter links. fem! reader, sub! characters will be mentioned in the names, imaginative texts included! pet play, teasing, nasty stuff
a/n. cedric, sirius and lupin's image is below!! kinda ooc! ron? i barely see any hp visual links so.. here this is lmao, and please, again, MDNI. sirius n remmy in the marauders era // this is my 2nd nsfw hc/fic im crying happy tears.. ALSO FIRST EVER HP WORK
here's a spotify playlist.
harry james. potter
𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐎… absolutely adores your tits, he will rest/sleep on your chest, sucking on your nipples as he falls asleep (his mouth latched onto it still), it's some sort of.. comfort to him. he loves how they're so soft and squishable. loves playing with them, rolling your nipple in between his fingers as he sucks on your other nipple before switching sides.
"I- mhm, god your tits... please.. can I?" harry pleads while looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. Your fingers run through his hair as you nod. He's quick to latch onto your tit as he starts to suck them softly which makes you softly moan as you tug onto his hair, rutting your pussy against his leg.
𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐎… even after a long day will take his time and be patient and soft with you as he tenderly places a kiss on your thighs before kitty-licking your pussy <3 he's quite literally making out with your pussy and devouring it. if you didn't know any better you would've thought he was a starved animal.
"Just be a good girl f'me yeah? Be nice and good while I eat this pretty pussy.." harry says before ducking down in between your thighs as he begins to eat your pussy feverishly.
𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐎… loves to fuck you in the reserve cowgirl position, watching as your tits bounce up and down, as his appears before being engulfed with your pussy. sometimes giggling and smiling while staring up at you in awe.
"Oh- fuck, oh your pussy feels so good-!" he says, his head lolled back as his dick slips in and out of your wet pussy.
𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐎… just wants to be soft with you although most times it turns into a heaty session. loves to make out before having sex with you or during, as long as his lips are on yours that's all that matters..
making out with you before having passionate sex is his favourite thing to do. "I love you so, so much y/n.." he whispers before ghosting your lips to which you smile at before kissing him, for real this time.
𝐒𝐔𝐁! 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐎… squirms, twitches and whimpers when you touch and jerk his dick, rolling your thump and hand over his tip as he desperately tries to stop you from overstimulating him.
"mhm, please.. y/n-! Ah.. stop, please." harry whimpers as he takes hold of your hand, "uh-uh, just be a good boy and let me touch you.. you'll be a good boy, right?" you chuckle when harry nods his head vigorously.
𝐒𝐔𝐁! 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐎… is shy during your first time having sex, he's quiet at first but after you ride him he's whimpering and panting, he can only look at you in awe as you ride him
"Shy? Why are you shy?" you question while straddling his lap, your hands on his shoulders as you smirk from his flustered face. "I-im, because.. it's my first time you know.." he mumbles as he turns his head away from embarrassment. You place your finger on his chin and make him look at you, "don't be shy, harry.. let me make you feel good. I promise I will.." you coo.
ron weasley
𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… jerks off while allowing you to ride his hand as he rubs circles on your clit.
"Oh wow... this is nice.." ron whispers, watching you stroke his dick with your hand while he rubs circles on your clit. "Oh please.. ron just get on with it." you whine, ron smirks and nods, "anything for you."
𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… is slow with you, peppering you with small kisses. thrusting slowly in you before gradually fucking you like how you want to be fucked <3
"You like that, hm?" ron is never the one to tease you in bed but seeing you all open to him sparks something in him that he can't explain, all he knows is that he's feeling good. "Let me make you feel good baby"
𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… makes out with your pretty pussy! on most days he just wants to stuff his face in between your legs until you cry out his name multiple times, gripping onto his hair tightly as he makes your stomach knot over and over again.
"Oh, ron! Please.." you whine as you gripped onto his hair tightly. "Please what?" ron mumbles, his mouth still latched onto your pussy as his tongue licks stripes on your clit. "Please go faster.."
𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… pounds your pussy after a long day without seeing you, he just missed this pretty pussy of his.
"D'you know how much i've missed you? Huh? Missed this pretty pussy." ron bucks his hips forward as he slams into your cunt and he doesn't stop, he just missed you so much, he missed being inside of you. You'll be good a girlfriend and allow him to, hm?
𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… watches as his cum drips out of your pussy, admiring it before fucking you again and again, pulling his dick out just to see his cum drip out of you.
"Oh would you look at that.." he whispers, fingers prodding and stretching your pussy to see his cum dripping out of your fluttering hole. "So cute" he coos, he could not wait to do that again.
draco malfoy
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… fingers you, leaving you breathless and moaning for more. who slaps your face harshly before kissing you.
Draco's fingers are pumping in and out of your weeping hole, and he's doing it roughly. "You like that? It feels good?" draco whispers in your ear, grinning as he already knew the answer. Your hands are clutching his arm. You were too tired and overstimulated to speak, you could only nod. "I need words baby."
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… sneaked you into his room after his roommates left and proceeded to fuck you balls deep.
Draco invited you to come visit his room just to "study" but you knew that draco was never really the one to study, but you agreed anyways, he was your boyfriend after all. What you didn't expect was in after a few minutes he would be balls deep inside of you. "Oh-! Draco, it feels so good, mmm"
𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… has a breeding kink, wanting to stuff you with his cum, watching as it all dribbles down from your pussy. Watching as your pussy clenches around nothing.
"You're so cute y/n, you know?" he hums teasingly, his hands gripped onto your thighs tightly as he pulls them apart to admire his work. You knew draco was looking at you, or rather your pussy, but nonetheless it made you feel hot under his gaze. You mew in response as your pussy clenches around nothing, obviously hinting that you wanted something more.. thicker inside of you once more.
cedric diggory
𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… fucks you in doggy style <3 relishing in how his dick is being swallowed whole by your pussy.
"You look so pretty like this.." he murmurs as he pounds into your red and abused cunt. "Mmm so pretty for you-!" you sputter out as your hands clench onto the bedsheets tightly.
𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… passionately makes out with your clit before fingering you whilst licking and flicking your bud with his warm tongue.
"You like that don't you?" cedric mumbles as he stares up at you while fingering and licking your cunt. "Mhm! Yes i dooo" you drag the 'o's as he speeds up his fingering, cedric only grinned as your juices flow down his chin.
𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… holds your hand as he pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy, he just wants to hold hands while doing something intimate with you <3
"Here, hold my hand pretty" he says – in a sweet tone as if he wasn't fingering you harshly – as he intertwines his hands with yours. "God you're so cute."
𝐂𝐄𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐂 𝐃𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐖𝐇𝐎… eats you out in his room while his roommates are away for quidditch practice, he called in sick just to eat his pretty princesses' pussy. Loving your cute little moans as he burrows his head further and further in as if he wasn't already.
"Oh c'mon! Let me just have a quick taste.. so what if they burst inside?" he says with a pout, his head hovering just right above your glistening pussy. "So what? We could get in trouble!" you whisper-yell. "Awh, well too bad im going to anyways." he states before burrowing his head down.
sirius black
𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐎… fucks you until your shaking from your orgasm and squirting. Slapping his cock on your pussy as your hips buck forward.
"Aww, look at you, all of this because of me?" sirius teases before patting his cock on your wet pussy. "We ought to do this more, hm?" you nod ever so slightly to which he chuckles at. "Alright, lets get you cleaned up now."
𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐎… loves to see you all tied up as he teases you with his cock, torturing you as he slides it along your aching hole before finally giving you what you really want.
"Look at you, all dolled up for me.. gorgeous aren't you?" he says just barely above a whisper. You nod you head and whine, "alright alright, ill give you what you want now" he chuckles before slipping his dick inside of your needy hole.
𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐎… trains you with a leash on, all dressed up just for him as he fucks you again and again.
"What's the safe word?" sirius asks, his finger tracing your spine, "green." you respond with a smile. Sirius returns tn before giving looking back at his dick that was positioned in front of your entrance. "There we go.." he whispers as his dick slips inside your pussy before tugging onto your leash.
𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐖𝐇𝐎… wants to hold you in his arms as you two have sex, he wants to be close as possible, this is as they say, an intimate act.
"Fuck- y/n you feel so good. Come closer to me will you, yeah?" sirius mumbles, pulling you closer to his chest. Both your arms wrap around each other as he pounds into your poor, abused cunt.
remus lupin
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎… hates being rough but since he is a werewolf, his... tendencies tend to come out. He fucks you harshly as he holds you down from moving.
"Come on y/n.. stop squirming you- fine." he mutters before holding you down, his hand on your belly before switching to your arm, trying to subdue your squirming and movements. "Please remmy! I-i need it.." you whine, lolling your head sideways, bucking your hips forwards in the hopes of getting more friction. "Then let me give it to you."
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎… teases you with his dick sliding over your needy hole, grinning when he sees you whining and twitching at his touch. But, he is nice so he will give you a reward for being so patient.
"Remus, please.. I want it." your hand gripping onto his sleeve as you tried to move your slips to "accidentally" make his dick slip inside. "Nuh-uh, just be patient and i'll give you what you want.." even though you weren't patient you nodded anyways, "good girl."
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎… is smitten with your boobs! He loves how soft they are, small, medium or big, he will love them nonetheless! Remmy will fondle with them, suck on them, toy with them, lick them and so on. Just please let him have your tits.
"Mm, don't you think that's enough..?" you question, looking at your boyfriend who was fondling with your breasts. "Enough? Absolutely not!" you frown at his response. "But- what about-" "that can wait, love. Just wanna focus on my girls first."
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#harry potter x reader#ron weasley x reader#draco malfoy x reader#draco x reader#ron x reader#cedric diggory x reader#cedric x reader#sirius black x reader#sirius x reader#remus lupin x reader#remus x reader#lupin x reader#harry potter smut#—✧ · . fandom: harry potter
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𝕭𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓
note: this is the part 2 for this, but you can read it individually too:) I know they can’t reproduce in hell, so let’s pretend that they can! And thank you so much for all the support, really means a lot to me!🤍
Pairing: Alastor x fem!doe Reader
summary: Alastor, nor Y/N can’t resist against their instincts anymore
warning: SMUT (minors dni), heavy breeding kink, impregnation kink (i’m not sure if this is the right term, but you know what I mean:)) biting, knotting, primal stuff in general, dirty talk, like a lot of dirty talk, ooc Alastor, (forgive me if I forgot anything pls)
Y/N got back in her room as soon as she could. This was her first heat, who knew they were this tiring? Especially given to the fact that she did absolutely nothing. Her daily mating season routine consisted of: sleeping, eating and masturbating. Therefore, she didn’t know the power a male deer could have over her, especially a male overlord demon deer. She wasn’t this down bad for him until he gave her a command, that made something click within her. Her hands were shaking and her mind was chanting.
Bigger nest, bigger nest, fawn, fawn, fawn, Alastor.
Her mind kept on repeating these words while she clawed her dresser open to take every soft thing out, to make her nest bigger.
When she finally made it twice as big, she curled up in there and tried to wait patiently for Alastor, although her body craved him more instead of the sweets. She felt the shiver crawl up and down her back, the hot feeling in her lower tummy made itself known harder than before.
Fuck it. She couldn’t wait. She needed release now.
She rolled on her back and spread her legs, her fingers were under her dress not even a second later. She was unbelievably wet, the crotch of her underwear was soaked, her body was ready to be mated, to be bred. She huffed in disappointment, her fingers weren’t enough, she needed more. So her firmest pillow was snatched and she began grinding down on it, yeah, this was way better. She couldn’t help it, she kept on imagining that it wasn’t a pillow that she was riding on, but Alastor.
She suddenly got a whiff of his musky scent and her hips dug themselves deeper into the pillow. Seconds later, she heard the locks clicking and the door opening…
Alastor could smell her arousal the second he stepped back in the hotel. A sweet scent coming from her room, she was more aroused than ever. While he was out of town, he caught a few scents of does in heat, but they couldn’t even come close to Y/N. He felt lucky that he was alone in the parlor, he could have felt ashamed, it was obvious that everyone left so the two deers could do their thing. But, shame was the last thing in his mind. All of his senses were occupied with Y/N. He felt the fabric of his pants becoming tighter, his breathing becoming heavier. He needed her. Now.
As he was on his way to her room, he was in and out of his demon form, desperate to feel the worked-up doe. Her scent was more intense, it fogged up his mind, making all of his thoughts circle around her. His knuckle ghosted over her door, but in that moment, knocking seemed useless and stupid. One of his shadows creeped under her door to open up the locks, when the door creaked open, he stepped in.
She was halfway on her stomach, one of her thighs was lifted and across the pillow, her needy pussy making a mess on the side of the pillow. There it was, the door opening. She blinked twice and Alastor was looking at her from the door. He still looked put-together, but his hair showed that he was running his fingers through it a lot.
Her big doe eyes were nearly in tears at the sight of him, she was relieved. She sat up on her knees, her dress was disheveled and her hair was messy.
“Alastor…?” She whispered, her eyes were hypnotized by him. His musky scent mingled with her sweet one, creating a new one that was them.
The desperation evident in her tone. Alastor got him coat off and went down on one knee before her. His clawed fingers reaching out to caress her blushing cheeks, she of course, nuzzled her face into his gentle touch. “Oh, you poor thing. Suffering all by yourself, hm?” He felt proper sympathy for the doe before him.
“Please, help me.” She purred into his hand, then she straightened her back out to rub her cheek against his. “I need you, Alastor, only you.” He almost didn’t notice how she managed to sneak his kneeling leg between hers and began grinding down on it. But he did know that he was about to lose his goddamn mind. This is music to a bucks ears, a pretty little doe begging for him and telling him that he was the one she needed, it is an honor really.
He put both of his hands on her face to make sure she looked into his eyes. “There, there. Don’t you worry, I’ll help you.” She squeaked in joy, she was about to crawl on him, when he stopped her. He got her into his lap and stepped inside her nest, sitting down with both her legs around his waist. “But… If you and I do this, there is no going back. This won’t be a one time thing, where we fuck just to get through our heat. No. You and I will be mates.” His demon form started to show slowly, his antlers growing, his smile getting bigger and his form getting taller. “No other bucks. You will bear me fawns, and I keep you safe and loved. Understood?”
There was a few second silence before she smiled and reached out to gently pet his ears and antlers, which went right back to it’s normal size. She was petting him in his sensitive spots, only a bucks mate was allowed to do that. He got his answer, but she spoke.
“I want that. I want you, Alastor, I really do. But… Are you sure? If you are to become my mate, I want you to know that I’ll need you around, all the ti—-“
Alastor chuckled and pulled her into a deep kiss, her tense body instantly relaxed. Their lips were dancing together, with every second they somehow mushed their bodies closer together. “I promise to give you everything you could ever need, want and more, my mate.”
They both gave themselves to the primal desire. They undressed each other in a hurry, or more like, Alastor sloppily removed his clothes, and tore Y/N dress in half. “Hey!” She shrieked, with a giggle.
He shushed her with another heated kiss. “I’ll buy you a thousand more, but not too soon, you won’t need clothes for a while.” His static voice slipped into an even more dominant one, a command.
He gladly acknowledged that she wasn’t wearing anything under her dress. She looked perfect. Her usually slender frame had some extra pounds, in all the right places. He flipped them around, so his mate was right under him, on perfect display for him. His lips wandered from hers and down to her neck, his tongue marked the spot where he would leave his bite on her, before continuing his journey lower.
He stopped at her chest, his fingers pushed one of her breasts to the side, so he could lightly bite into the flesh. Her nipple poked out from between his fingers, they were firm and begging to be sucked on. “What gorgeous breasts, my doe. My babies will have the finest to feed from.” He started sucking on her nipple, while pinching and kneading the other. He switched to the other one, and suckled. He did that until both her tits were covered in bite marks, her nipples were hard as rocks and the skin around nearly crimson. “I can’t wait to see them full of milk, I’ll have my lips around these beauties all day, before our little fawn arrives. Can’t have you feeling uncomfortable from all the milk your body is preparing, now can we? Daddy is going to help mommy out.” His dirty talking got her even more worked up, every single nerve in her body was aching for him, and for the baby that he’ll give her soon enough. He went lower, stopping at her lower belly and hips. “Would you look at that!” Both his hands smoothed themselves from her waist to her hips, gripping the fat on her hips. She didn’t even have time to fall into insecurity because of her slight weight gain, before he spoke. “You really are perfect. You were made for me. Made to bear my offspring, my gorgeous darling.”
He couldn’t help himself, he had to leave a few bite marks there too, then he completely got on his knees before her spread legs. He buried his face between her thighs, the source of her heavenly scent. His nose accidentally poked her already puffy clit and her whole body jolted. He decided to just bury his face into her, his tongue and lips were working in unison. Her moans made him go harder and faster, just like her delicate fingers that were gripping into his antlers.
One of his hands sneaked up her thigh, only to slip into her wet entrance. “Oh~ Alastor!” Her back arched.
Alastor looked up at her, half his face was covered in her arousal, a string of slick still connected his lips to her pussy. “I know, I know. Give me a second.” He made his shadow throw both her legs over his shoulder and arch her hips upwards, which made her a bit confused. “What are y—OH FUCK!” She felt his finger press into a spot deep inside her, her g-spot.
“Found it.” He chuckled smugly, bastard.
He went on like that for a while, bringing her to an orgasm over and over again, until she was begging.
“Alastor! Please, fuck me. PLEASE!”
He crawled up her body, now being face to face with her. His lips were swollen from literally making out with her pussy. “What was that, my dear?” He straightened up so he could begin unbuttoning his shirt, which he usually wouldn’t do, but he knew that his mate would need skin to skin contact, it helps them bond more.
“Fuck me. I am begging!” Her fingers reached up to help him with the buttons, small gestures, but oh so lovely!
“Excuse me, I can’t seem to he—“ he took himself out of his pants, before she grabbed onto his antlers and pulled his face beside hers, so she could whisper into his ear.
“Fuck me, breed me, knot me! I-I need you to finish inside, I’m more fertile than ever. Let me give you everything!” She started grinding against his hard and heavy cock, which stood proudly between them, impossibly hard for her and her warm cunt.
Alastor turned his head to seal their lips together, while he guided his cock inside of her.
They both sighed in relief, it felt so damn right for them to be connected like this. No wonder they were getting dizzy from each other’s scent, they were meant to be. She felt him nudge at her cervix, and curving right into her special spot.
He wrapped his strong arms around her, completely enveloping her, while pounding into her with no mercy.
“See what you do to me? The second I stepped into the hotel, I felt you. I have felt you for days. I have felt you every single time your curious little fingers sneaked under your dress, every fucking time.” His head was right next to hers, nuzzling his skin into her soft hair, finding comfort in it.
“I-I always had to do something down there wherever I felt your scent, I couldn’t do it if you weren’t around.” Her hands petted his ears, she was still gentle with him when his hips snapped into hers constantly. “I had you on my mind, when I was nesting. I wanted to show you, so you could be proud of me. I made it for you. Soft and warm… for you.” What a lovely creature she was, so kind hearted.
“Oh, my darling doe. You will make the greatest mother to our fawns. You will take care of them as much as you’re taking care of me… My sweet love, the sweetest mother to my children. I will be there for you, always. How could I ever let you go after this? My mate, I would hate to cause you the slightest pain, but I have to bite you… To bond us together.” He buried his face into her neck, licking at the spot he was eyeing earlier.
“I know. Do it. Bite me, and give me what we need. Give me our little fawns.”
He positioned her into a mating press, both of them moaned at this new position. His cock was nearly up in her womb. He reached down to stimulate her clit, he needed her to come, so he could fertilize her egg better.
“I will make your belly swollen, every part of your body will be swelling with my child.” His primal instincts were consuming him. “You will have a piece of me inside you. All. The. Fucking. Time. And everyone will see. Everyone will see how good my mate is treated, how good I fuck her. Everyone will know that I impregnated her. I will fucking breed you!” He felt his balls tighten and the base of his cock swelling, he was about to cum. Luckily she…
“ALASTOR! I’M ABOUT TO—-OH~”
He felt her clench around him, milking him for all his worth. He bit down hardly on her neck, leaving his bite mark that would always grace her skin, making her his forever. It was like marriage, but with deers.
She moaned loudly when she felt him fill her up, and it just kept on coming. He really set his mind into knocking her up.
Even when he stopped pumping his sperm into her, they were still stuck together. They kept each other warm in their embrace.
Alastor suddenly felt her shiver, so he flipped them to the side, so he could completely shield her from everything in his arms. He reached for a blanket and tucked her and himself in. Even after his swelling went back to normal, they still held each other tightly.
He kept looking down at her, admiring her, and gently caressing her skin.
“My beautiful doe, my gorgeous mate… You did so well. You’re my good girl.” He whispered to her, but her energy was down low. Her body was tired, and her mind was fogged. He reached over to grab the sweets that got them in this position in the first place. He started feeding her, before rocking her side to side to calm down her wildly beating heart.
“Thank you, Alastor… For everything, and more.” He could see the admiration in her eyes when she looked up at him with a smile. “I am proud to be your mate.” She looked down and palmed her tummy, caressing it with love. “I really hope we did it. I cannot wait for us to have our own little baby.”
“Me neither, my doe, me neither. But… If you didn’t get pregnant now, I’ll make sure that you get pregnant in the next few days.” He kissed her all around her face, making her giggle. “Now, sleep. I can’t have you tired tomorrow, we’ll have a lot of mating duties together.”
She grinned up at him. “Do we now?”
“Oh, yeah. We have to make sure that your womb will bring us a fawn soon. We have a lot of breeding and fucking to do.” He chuckled with her. She then snuggled into him, falling asleep, in the radio demon’s protective embrace.
Her mate’s embrace.
Taglist: @jyoongim @lovingyeet @adamwarlockislife-blog @that-dumb-bitch @midorichoco @alastorswifeee
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Summary: You've been known to sleep around with the soldiers on base. It wasn't a secret. It also wasn't a secret that you fake most of your orgasms... Ghost takes that as a challenge.
CW: PiV, afab! Reader, uses she/her, multiple orgasms, rough sex, creampie, oral (m! receiving), overstimulation, fingering, and the reader is pretty much a barracks bunny. Not beta read... still doing smut though I can never tell if it gets better.
A/n: I really wanted to do kinktober but I was late... So um, have this??
It wasn't a secret that you were something of a barracks bunny. You caught the eye of recruits, and whoever of them made your insides tingle you were more than likely to spend a night with. You didn't care to try and keep it a secret. Although, your sexual experiences with most of the recruits and the younger men were… less than world-shaking.
They were good, their dick often leaving you mostly satisfied and feeling like you've had a five-inch stake driven into your cunt for ten to twenty minutes.
But you were also rumoured and soon confirmed to fake most of your orgasms. Sure, the hookups were fun, but you did end up faking most of your orgasms because it simply didn't do it for you.
Whether the recruit was rough or gentle, something was missing that pushed you over the edge.
But hey, you let the recruits get their load off you, so they weren't complaining either way.
Except for a certain someone.
Ghost was hardly the person you'd find sleeping around with anyone, men or women. The occasional quick fuck void of attachment and emotions back home in his small Manchester flat wasn't new though.
Once he fucked someone's brains out, they were out the door and not to set foot again. He didn't think anything of this. It's how it was, how it would continue to be.
But the constant talk of your happy little ass sleeping with every relatively attractive recruit in sight ticked something inside him.
Maybe he secretly wished he could get a hold of you, tame you down, get you down on your knees, and ensure you stayed.
Perhaps the idea of making you his bitch and getting you away from the other sources of pleasure you could find.
And then he learned about it. Little missy wandering around, getting fucked left and right, and every orgasm has to be driven out of her by herself. Something about that. About knowing you faked each orgasm with each soldier just to fuck yourself silly until it hit right.
These recruits were insufferable. None of them could drive you out of this little spiral you thought you had to control. Fuck a man, fake an orgasm and then sleep it off like nothing.
That's the challenge. That's what Ghost saw. A challenge and a reward. And he knew you'd been wanting to sleep with him for ages. He knew, and he wasn't as dimwitted as some people liked to think.
He practically bristled when he saw you walk into the canteen that afternoon, hips swinging, a small stiff in your step, but you looked mostly in one piece. Another recruit following behind you, looking on a mission to tell his squadmates of the night he had with you.
It made his hands tighten, and whiskey eyes lock on you as you walked past, seeming fine regardless of the night. His hand reached out, firmly gripping your hip so you couldn't go any further, capturing your attention.
"Lieutenant?" You asked, your eyes shifting from his large gloved hand up his forearm to meet his gaze.
"You best get yourself in check, soldier," he warned in a low tone, his hand squeezing your hip, nudging you back, his voice growing quieter.
"My barracks. Midnight."
Your cheeks went a little pink. You had the hots for the lieutenant for a lifetime. Part of you felt he would give you something you desperately needed, yet he's never spared you more than a glance.
You smirk softly. "You got it."
He doesn't respond at all. His hand releases you, and he lets you on your way.
You made it to your table, sitting among a small group you'd accumulated over your few years on base. The thought of getting in a bed with your lieutenant was now fresh on your mind, already having your stomach twisting.
However… You'd yet to meet someone truly who could make you feel how you wanted to. Roughed up, played with, fucked until your brain was smoother than a stone, and your name was a challenge to recall.
Was it that hard to ask?? You couldn't help feeling you might be sourly disappointed.
But you'd wait. Also making sure things in your room are charged just in case the night turned as you hoped it wouldn't.
The day drew on, and you continued through your tasks, finishing your work just in time to catch a shower and spend some alone time in your room as you pleased before your wristwatch beeped.
It was about time to see a certain lieutenant.
Ghost was waiting for you. How you figured he wouldn't was a wonder, but you didn't expect him to be standing there. Right there.
You slipped into the room, closing the door behind you. The lights were off, and his silhouette blocked the little light coming through the closed blinds. Your fingers search for the light switch, but his hand stops you.
Gloves still on, he pulls your wrist away, the other hand finding the lock on the door behind you and flicking it closed.
You already felt your heart rate picking up in excitement as he maneuvered through the darkness of his room, keeping you against the wall and at his whim.
"I didn't think it would start like this." You say, your back arching off the wall a tad before relaxing against when his figure pressed closer.
"Wrong of you to think you'd get a say."
His rumbled voice makes you shiver softly.
"I'm not complaining."
He seemed to scoff, pressing against you and making you suck in a sharp breath. His crotch pressing against your own, his large hands gripping your waist to hold you in place.
"Not yet."
He sounded like a predator about to sink his teeth into you, and it was such a turn-on.
His gloved hands grip your hips, lifting you from the floor and pulling your legs up around his waist. You can feel the thick outline of his cock, and it makes you gasp softly.
He takes you to the bed, dumping you onto the sheets. His hands find your clothes, pulling them from you, stripping you down to your underwear. He wasn't wasting time, your eyes adjusting and letting you see more of his figure clearly as he moved your limbs how he wanted to.
He was commanding, your body felt like putty in his hands, and you weren't sure you wanted to fight it.
Your cunt throbbed as he tugged you up the bed by your hips, crawling between your legs and forcing them apart.
His rough gloves feel foreign against your skin, tugging your underwear from your hips and tossing the thin fabric off the bed.
"Stay still." His voice rumbles through your body again. Your first thought of those scarred lips going for what they wanted. One hand kept your hips still, situating his body between your legs so you couldn't do much to fight him if you wanted to. You shiver, watching him pull his mask up over the bridge of his nose and pull his glove off between his teeth.
The second glove gets pulled off, and he lets it fall onto the bed next to you. The sound of his belt coming undone, the leather sliding against itself. His zipper came down, and he freed his cock.
You were already squirming, wanting to feel it. His large hand presses against your stomach, pushing you back down into the bed. "Easy. Keep still." His hand slides back down, your breathing stopping briefly when you felt his calloused thumb rub your clit. He was quiet, pressing up into your body, gently massaging it.
It makes you shiver, his index finger rubbing through your labia and down to your slit, tracing his fingers around your entrance. Feeling how tight you were despite your nasty habit of seeking out other men. He knows you could be so much tighter, knowing what a fucking slut you were.
Pressing his finger into your entrance, the warmth of your walls tightening around him, feeling him slip inside you. He doesn't give a warning before his second finger presses into you, both invading the warmth of your cunt. "That's it." His fingers pump into you, rubbing along your walls, rough callouses giving you a hint of edge with each stroke.
Your hands grip the sheets as he works his fingers inside you, a third slipping in as he feels the stretch of your walls. His palm rubs your clit, making you suck in a sharp breath and moan. It was a little too loud, causing Ghost to withdraw his fingers from you and grab your thigh.
He flips you over, his hand grabbing your face and shoving it into the bed. You startle a little, tensing up, but he knocks your knees apart again and forces his fingers back in, his other hand keeping your head firmly planted in the pillows. Your cunt clenches around his fingers. They work inside you quicker, pressing into your walls and driving inside you.
"Stay. I never allowed you to get loud, pretty thing." Ghost rumbles, feeling your cunt clench, dripping in excitement as his large fingers pick up pace inside your cunt.
It was almost embarrassing how quickly you were on edge. Your hands grip the sheets, hips starting to rock against his hand. Your breath comes out in small pants, muffled by the pillow. His large fingers felt so good inside you. Better than any recruit you've laid with.
You squirm, and as quickly as you do, his hand moves from your head to span your ass, cupping the perfectly round flesh and squeezing it between his fingers. His fingers pick up pace, driving deep into your cunt, fast and barely giving you time. Slick popping from his quick pace inside you. His fingers bullying your cunt, finding your g-spot and hitting relentlessly.
Your hips twitch, your back arching, and you can't help but moan loudly when you hit that first orgasm.
Ghost smirks, the scar along his lip pulling the skin up slightly. He pulls his fingers out, drawing them apart to see your slick and spend ripping between them. Your body shivering a little. "One." He counts, tasting your cum on his fingers.
He turns you onto your back, leaning over your body and pressing his lips to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth. The taste of your cum and his saliva made your head spin, your hands gripping the front of his shirt as he kisses you.
You moan into his mouth as his hand slides between your legs, cupping your cunt and rubbing your clit. Your hips jump a little, his rough palm pressed against your lower pelvis, his fingers teasing along your slick cunt.
He nips your bottom lip, pushing you away before the kiss can properly end and keeps you held down in the sheets, his hand curling around your throat while the other continues to rub through your labia. Teasing your clit, rubbing it and pinching it. "Cumming for me already…" Ghost rumbled. "Just like I knew you would."
"I'm not done with you yet."
You moan, your head pressing back into the sheets as you start to rock your hips. Trying to feel more of his rough fingers, wanting his fingers back inside you.
"Beg." His tone is firm, and commanding. You look up at him through half-lidded eyes.
"Please," you moan, watching him grin and press his fingers against your hole.
"Please, what?"
You squirm, pressing your hips into his fingers. "Please fuck me with your fingers."
You could swear he was mocking you, slowly pushing his fingers back into your cunt.
"You can do better than that," Ghost taunts.
You whimper, trying to nudge your hips back, and you feel his fingers pull away. He forces your thigh further out again, teasing your clit with his thumb. You mumble under your breath, trying to lean away, his fingers stroking along your slit again.
"Please… I need them. I need this, please." You whine, once again trying not to squirm with your desperation growing in place of your excitement.
His fingers press back into your cunt, and you moan. Your hips jolt, rolling against his hand as he drives his fingers into your cunt, hitting deep inside you. "Fuck. Fuck, I- ah-"
He doesn't hold you down like before, allowing your hips to move, fucking his fingers, your slick making obscene sounds.
Your lips part, moaning over his hand, still firm on your throat, fingers pulling you apart. Driving into you, his eyes watching your face in the darkness with each desperate thrust up into his fingers. Looking like a pathetic whore. But that's how Ghost wanted you.
That's how he liked it. He would ruin you. He'd show those recruits how it was done, and cut you down a peg. He'd get you so overfucked you'd only be able to remember his name.
His fingers bullying your g-spot, knuckles coated in your slick, the walls of your cunt flexing around him. Once again, before long, he had you drawn out, moaning loudly.
He pulls his fingers out of you, the sticky string slick between his fingers as he pulls them apart. "Two," he counts, watching you pant, hips squirming and thighs quivering.
Ghost leans down, grabbing your chin and forcing you to look at him. His fingers press to your lips, pushing them past. You groan, sucking on his fingers, tasting you on his hand. Sucking them and running your tongue along them until he pulled out, lightly slapping your face. His other hand released your throat.
He moved back on the bed, planting his feet back on the floor and pushing down his jeans over his thighs more, taking his large cock in his hand.
"Hands and knees, sweetheart."
You panted, knees still quivering, but you shifted onto your stomach, onto your hands and knees. Looking up at him, smirking. The smirk didn't bother Ghost, he already had you under him. He was already the first way through ruining you, so many would never really pleasure you again like he did.
Tapping his cock against your cheek, letting you feel the weight and the size against you.
"Open," he orders, watching you part your lips and lean forward to take the head between your lips. Your tongue runs across it, eyes shut.
He gripped your hair, yanking you forward and forcing you to take half his cock down your throat. Gagging on it tears stinging the corners of your eyes as he forced you further down, fucking your mouth.
"If you're gonna suck it, do it like you mean it." He spits, driving his cock into your throat, hearing your desperate noises, trying to draw in the air over his cock suffocating your throat. Feeling the smooth skin of his heavy cock against your tongue. The skin pulls back over his head along your tongue.
You could feel him, his cock dragging deep into your warm throat and then pulling out, giving you a much steadier rhythm for redemption.
He didn't give you a chance to take control, keeping his grip firm on your hair and driving himself into your throat.
You gag around him, feeling the burn in the back of your throat, eyes watering as he keeps you there, your lips stretching around his thick shaft, spit leaking from the corners of your lips.
The heaviness of his cock on your tongue, salty pre-cum pooling at the back of your throat, tongue gliding over throbbing cockhead.
Ghost pulls his cock from your mouth, slapping your cheek with it and then forcing it back between your lips. He pulls your head back, pressing his cock back into your throat, his balls slapping your chin as he fucks your throat.
The sting in your eyes and the way your lungs burned made your head spin. You could feel your cunt dripping, wanting to feel him inside you.
He didn't let you keep it that steady.
Your head bobbed along his cock, spit coating his length and slicking up your cheeks, the sound of him fucking your mouth. It's what he wanted, making you choke and gag on his cock.
It let you know who was in control. Not you. You wouldn't have one ounce of control.
You were desperate to try and keep up with his rough pace, his hips snapping into your mouth. You moaned around him, looking up at him. His hand tightened in your hair, keeping your head still while he fucked your mouth, groaning under his breath.
He pulled out, holding you firmly in place so you couldn't chase his cock.
"On your back. Now."
You do as he says, turning onto your back and spreading your legs.
Ghost pushes his jeans down further, grabbing your legs and tugging them around his waist. His hand presses against your lower stomach, pushing you down into the bed while his other hand grips the base of his cock.
You whimper, trying to keep your eyes on him and watch him as he strokes his cock, keeping you in place. You attempt to squirm, but he keeps you still, ordering you to stay quiet. He drags his cock through your soaked cunt, pre-cum slathering across your clit and dripping down into the mess of your cunt.
"Lieutenant, please," you whimper, hips trying to press up, and he pushes you back down.
"Please what?" Ghost asks, smirking down at you. He was so in control here, you were the one under him. You were the one who was going to get fucked tonight.
"Please, I need you inside me."
"Mmm, you're such a slut… bet you'd take any cock, wouldn't you sweetheart?" His cock smacks against your clit, making your hips jump a little.
"Just yours."
He smirked. "That's what I like to hear."
He pushed forward, slowly pushing the head of his cock inside you. Your breath catches in your throat, back arching, trying to force more of him into you. He presses his palm into your lower stomach, pushing you back into the mattress. His cock gradually slides inside you, stretching you more, feeling the tightness of your cunt trying to handle a size it wasn't used to.
His hips press forward, feeding his cock into your cunt and stretching you out so nicely. You felt so good around him. Tight, warm, clenching at the size of his cock.
"That's it, such a good girl."
He starts a slow pace, driving his cock in and out of your cunt. Making you feel him, feel every inch of his cock. His hand moves from your stomach, finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. It was too much, the sensations making you moan loudly.
"Shhh, quiet. You don't get to do that," Ghost orders.
You whimper, nodding your head and trying to lean your head back into the pillow. His cock plunges into you harder.
"Do I need to gag you again, sweetheart?"
He gripped your hair and pulled your head back harshly to look back at him. His hips snapped forward, thrusting his cock deep into your cunt.
"N-no. I won't." You say.
His grip loosens, but he continues to fuck you, hips snapping forward suddenly. Your thighs squeeze either side of his hips, heels digging into the skin of his ass as he lifts your hips with his cock.
"Mmm, I think it's more you don't want to." Ghost says.
You whimper, nodding your head. You wanted to be a good girl for him. You want to be quiet for him. But it was almost impossible as he fucked your brain out.
"You're so wet for me, so tight. I bet you cum just from thinking about me, don't you?"
You nod your head, moaning and biting your lip to try and stifle your noises.
His hands grip your waist, pulling you down into his cock and making you take it all.
Your pussy throbs around his cock, his thickness, utterly wrecking your cunt. His cock bullying your insides, finding your g-spot and making you come undone again, orgasming around his cock.
Ghost pulls his cock out, watching you squirm and moan loudly. "Three." He counts. He flips you back over, firmly pressing his hand into your hip.
He leans over you, shoving your face into the pillow and spanking your ass. "I thought I told you to be quiet."
He pushes his cock back inside you, gripping your hips and holding you still as he fucks you.
"One was for being a good girl."
You yelp as he slaps your ass again.
"Two was for being a slut."
You whimper, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
He keeps his hand pressed into your hips and keeps your ass upturned. His hips snap forward, driving his cock deep inside your cunt.
"And three will be for never listening to me. Because you're a bad girl. My bad girl."
His cock smacks against you when he pulls out, making you moan loudly. His hand moved from your hip, jerking your chin up and forcing you to look into his eyes.
"What are you?" He asks, cock slamming back into you.
"I'm a bad girl," you mewl out.
"That's right, baby," He says, leaning down and biting your neck. You cry out, moaning loudly. His hand grabbed your hair, tugging your head back and holding your neck.
"Mine." Ghost growls into your ear.
He slams his cock deep inside you, making you moan loudly. Your pussy clenched around him, gripping his cock tightly. He grunted, his hips thrusting forward and slamming his cock into you.
You cry out in pleasure, yet want it to stop.
He smirks widely. "Look at you…" He chuckles, leaning into your ear. "Like this for me… just like this… like a slut."
You moan loudly, your cunt throbbing around his cock. Your hands grip the sheets tightly, trying to keep yourself steady as he fucks you.
"Such a good girl…" He groans, his voice husky and breathless. "Such a good slut."
You shiver, nodding your head.
Ghost pushes your body down into the bed, lifting your ass further and continuing to fuck you. His fingers grip your ass tightly, his nails digging into your skin. "Do you like this? Getting fucked by your lieutenant?" He asks, his hand moving to your lower back, pushing you down further. "Fuck, who am I kidding… I know you do."
You whimper pitifully. You were so close again.
Ghost slaps your ass again, smirking. "I like it when you're a slut for me. What about you, baby?"
You whimper, nodding your head. "I like being your slut."
"I think you do, sweetheart…" He says.
You nod your head, moaning and whimpering in excitement. Ghost smirks, giving your ass a hard slap. "Beg for it…"
You whimpered. "Please- please fuck-" You say, moaning out.
"Keep begging…" He says, pulling out. He pulls your hips up, making you kneel up on the bed. He pushes your chest down, causing your ass to stick up in the air, exposed and ready for his cock. He spanks your ass, making you yelp.
"I bet you'd like to be fucked by me all day, wouldn't you? Be my little cock-sleeve." He says, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
He slaps your ass again, spanking you.
You whimper, trying to plead with him.
He grips your hips, slamming into you hard. His cock drives inside you, wrecking your cunt and filling you. His fingers dig into your hips and ass, holding you still as he fucks you.
He pulls you up, pushing his cock deep inside you and making you cry. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you back into him.
"Oh god," you moan, your head leaning back into his shoulder.
"Fuck, you feel so good, baby…" Ghost groans.
"Please," you cry out. "N-no more…" The overstimulation to your pussy was too much.
His hips snap hard against you, his cock thrusting into you hard.
He pulls you back up, making you sit up on his lap. He leans you back against his chest, his hand moving to your hip. He registers your cry of pleasure as his cock thrusts into you again and again, his hips snapping forward.
He reaches around you, finding your clit and rubbing it roughly. You moan loudly, leaning back against him.
Ghost leans down and nibbles at your neck.
You feel his cock swell inside you, pulsing and throbbing inside you. He could feel his undoing soon. He bites down on your shoulder, making you cry out in pleasure. He thrusts his cock into you, hitting deep inside you and making your toes curl.
He grabs your hips, pulling them down and burying his cock deep inside you. He feels his cock throb and swell, filling your cunt with his seed.
He grunts loudly, holding you down against his cock as he rides out his orgasm. You moan, gripping his shoulders and pushing back against him.
"Mmm… that's it sweetheart… take all of it… cum for me…" Ghost moans.
His cock throbs inside you, spurting his load into your cunt. You moan loudly, feeling your release. Your legs tremble, thighs shaking as you cum around his cock. One last time before your body felt completely boneless, the dry orgasm pumping around the load of seed filling you deep, swelling in your cunt. Ghost pants, holding you up against him as he breathes heavily, your body limp in his arms. He kisses your shoulder softly, rubbing your belly.
"That was… mmm…" Ghost says, licking his lips and kissing your neck. "So good…"
You pant softly, leaning your head back and looking up at him. "I'm tired."
He chuckles lightly. "Go ahead and sleep… I'll clean you up."
"Okay." You smile a little. He helps you lie down on the bed, pulling his softening cock from your cunt. You feel the warm mess seep from you, coating your thighs and making you shiver.
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NOCTURNAL WORSHIP.
Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MDNI; dub/non-con, somnophilia, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle/niece), p in v, fingering, possessive and dark (or rather canon) Daemon
WORDS: 1.2 K
NOTES: Something older I had posted with another blog.
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
A deep slumber has overtaken you after a day full of lessons in the tongue of your ancestors, and an hours long flight on the back of your precious mount. Deep enough that not even the creaking door leading to one of the secret passageways of Maegor‘s Holdfast is able to get you to stir awake.
Not quite so stealthy as one might know him, the man they dub the Rogue Prince steps into your chambers, his heart beating fast with the blood pumping straight down to his cock upon spotting you laying on your side, sound asleep despite his intrusion.
It’s almost ridiculous how hard his cock gets the closer he stalks towards your canopy bed, straining uncomfortably against the laces in the front of his breeches. “Ñuha dōna lēkianna,“ he drawls with a strain to his voice, the predatory gaze of his lilac eyes taking in your sleeping frame. My sweet niece.
A devilish smirk that’s usually only reserved to the people that dare to challenge him is draped across his lips, growing as he slowly peels the Quartheen silk sheets off your body. Only a fool would miss the fact that you’re not wearing any undergarments beneath the rather flimsy, creamish nightgown you wear, clearly indicating that you have listened to your uncle prior to your departure to your quarters.
‘Expect me at the Hour of the Owl, sweet girl,’ he had said to you as your lesson ended. ‘And I shall teach you what is expected of you on your wedding night.’ And the sheepish nod and the blush on your cheeks let him know you truly endorsed it.
Daemon sits down on the bed next to you and brushes his fingers over your skin, starting at your knee to push the nightgown up and reveal your bare cunt, glistening with your arousal for the long-awaited. His deft fingers drag through your folds, circling your sensitive pearl.
A quiet sound slips past your slightly parted lips, resembling something between a moan and a whimper, and in your sleepy state he finds you snuggling against him to inhale his comforting scent, your hand resting on his stomach and your face buried in his side.
His fingers toy with your pearl briefly before he gently nudges you over to lie on your back, parting your legs to grant him better access to what lies between them. Ghosting the tips of his fingers along your navel, he trails them down again to ease them inside your cunt, pushing in and out to prepare your maiden core for him.
The thread of restraint he’s held before grows thinner and thinner with your walls starting to clench steadily around his digits, practically sucking them in and begging for more. And when he feels your small hand fisting his tunic, pulling him closer with your hips rutting meekly against his hand? That’s the moment it snaps.
Withdrawing his fingers from your cunt, he brings them up to his lips, sucking them clean of your essence. Any rational thought is quit with the taste of your arousal spreading over his tongue, making him long for more.
He climbs between your legs, sitting back on his haunches as he undoes his breeches and frees his cock from its confines. There’s not a second wasted by him, burying himself inside of you with such urgency in one, swift thrust.
All efforts not to wake you up are fruitless as he increases the pace of his thrusts, snapping his hips in and out of you over and over again, not able to hold back any longer.
The hazy glimmer in your eyes as you blink up at him indicates that you have a hard time processing what is happening, although your body perfectly knows with quiet moans and whimpers toppling past your parted lips.
“K… Kepus?” you mumble, having trouble speaking with the burning of your cunt struggling to accommodate his size clouding your thoughts. You blink once, twice, to allow your eyes to adjust to the dim light the moon casts through your chambers windows.
Daemon doesn’t stop his ministrations, if anything, your dazed reaction only manages to spur him on, feeding the fire that courses through his veins. He dips down, pressing his chest flush to yours and putting his weight onto you, caging you in between his arms with no way to escape.
Your uncle rests his forehead against yours, stopping his movements briefly. “I told you I would come, didn't I?”
Biting your bottom lip, you momentarily close your eyes at the proximity. Opening them again, you nod your head and stare up at him with a wide, innocent gaze. “Y… Yes.”
“And you want to learn from me, do you not?” It isn’t a question, more a coercion for you to give him what he wants. “About the… wifely duties you must perform for your future husband.”
You nod again, speaking in feigned confidence, “yes.”
His words are very much that of truth. More than once have you thought about him in ways that are not proper for the youngest daughter of the King, especially after your older sister has told you about the little foray she and your uncle went on that ended in one of the brothels of the city.
Daemon starts to grind his hips against yours, causing the pressure inside of you to become more and more notable — until your peak catches you in an ambush.
Your body acts on its own as you arch your back against his sturdy frame, parting your legs just a bit more to willingly rut your hips in rhythm with his, chasing the pleasure.
Not one coherent thought runs through your head as your body works itself through the several emotions and trembles that soar through you, suddenly not so tired anymore.
You‘re not so sure what to expect as he proclaims his desire to spill inside of you, yet you eagerly accept, damned be the repercussions, and bite through the overstimulation to chase the addictive feeling of his throbbing cock.
Tipping his head back, your uncle releases a groan so raspy the bump in his throat twitches, the sight causing a renewed wave of your arousal to drip down his shaft, forming a creamy ring around the base.
Only once the thrusting of his hips ceases, you‘re able to feel the flimsy pulsating of his cock, spending itself inside of you.
“That’s it–” His words catch in his throat as his head topples forwards.
Meeting your gaze, he gets so lost in the blissed out expression on your face that he knows there is no going back now — not when he just got a taste of you, his darling niece.
He presses a kiss to your temple as he pulls out, the uncomfortable feeling of loss causing you both to grimace. Climbing off the bed to readjust his trousers, he can‘t seem to take his eyes off of you.
“I expect you, tomorrow night, to come to my chambers,” he states bluntly and nonchalantly, walking towards the door he came through before. “Your husband will not be gentle on the first night of your marriage, lēkianna, and I think it is only fair that I teach you a few more things. So when the time comes, you‘re well prepared.”
With these words, he closes the secret door behind him, leaving you all by yourself. Where you have been in a very deep slumber before, you struggle to fall back asleep again, mind plagued by what tomorrow will bring for you.
Daemon Taglist: @hypocritic-trash-baby @schniiipsel @avalyaaa @baizzhu @yn-jackson
#daemon imagine#prince daemon targaryen#daemon fanfic#daemon fic#daemon targaryen x y/n#daemon targaryen fic#daemon targaryen fanfic#daemon targaryen imagine#daemon targaryen smut#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon targaryen#daemon stannies#daemon smut#daemon x y/n#daemon x you#daemon x reader#hotd#hotd imagine#hotd fic#hotd fanfic#hotd x y/n#hotd x reader#hotd x you#hotd daemon targaryen#hotd daemon#house of the dragon#house of the dragon daemon#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon smut#hotd smut
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DCXDP Prompt 7
Dead Serious Ship but with a twist(?) of a sort. And Good Parents Fenton's + Casper High Classmates knows Danny is Phantom.
• Damian and Danny were Teenage Sweethearts and Danny was in Gotham due to Amity Park Stuff with his parents still taking down the GIW, up until they turned 18 when Damian suddenly became distant. He started canceling plans, distancing himself from his beloved, even going as far as no longer calling Danny by their usual pet names.
From Lovers to Strangers.
• Danny is confused on why Damian is suddenly so distant, until Damian just disappeared, he never contacted Danny at all. Danny's mind is now cluttered with overthinking thoughts that range from negative to dreadful thoughts, at first it was worry that Damian died but he sees an article of Damian being alive and well.... and with someone. Danny feels his heart break into a million goddamn pieces and seeks refuge in his family's arms and moving back to Amity Park.
• Damian's reason of disappearance was apparently for Danny's safety as Ra's had taken particular interest in the boy that has Lazarus Running in their DNA as if it is their blood and for Danny's safety Damian decided to distance himself, a specific mission that required him a partner to take down a specific organization is where the article comes from(Writer can change the last part, either way angst is inevitable).
• 2-3 years later Danny comes back to Gotham because a Ghost of his had something from their grave stolen, and it was stored in the Gotham Museum. Although Danny hates it he stays as it is his duty as A Halfa (Or a Ghost King) to retrieve his people's items from the other side of the veil. Danny happened to attend a gala in one of these occasions and Damian spots him.
Damian and Danny Part :
• Danny feels dread and hatred whenever he sees Damian, Damian is desperate to get him back.
Damian becomes possessive and the Batfam finally tone him down after Danny slaps him, This is mostly angst of Damian being unable to have Danny back as Danny finally settles into the Ghost Zone and Amity Park.
Summary Danny holds a grudge after thinking Damian cheated on him and ghosted him, Danny is not fine and when he does come back to Gotham for Ghost King/Halfa Duties Damian tries to pursue him again which ends with a lot of Vigilante and Phantom shenanigans along with Robin and Phantom romance where they both don't know about each other's Civilian life and when they do more heartbreak and chaos ensue.
Damian wants Danny back so bad and regrets letting his Beloved Polaris go for a mission and for not trusting himself or his family to be able to protect Danny, Danny doesn't like Damian because Damian brings back memories of the last that he truly, really wants to forget because everytime he thinks about it he wants to cry himself to sleep.
My thought is bittersweet ending but that's on the writer's choice or inspiration of this, thanks for reading my crack. I'll see y'all later.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#dc x dp#danny phantom fandom#dp x dc#dcu#dc x dp crossover#dcxdp#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc#dcxdp prompt#dc x dp prompt#dpxdc prompts#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc au#dp x dc prompt#dead serious#damian x danny#damian wayne#ghost king danny#Did i write this all on the spot? yes absolutely#Danny is Sad and Damian is Sadder but the sad fact is Danny has somewhat moved on whilst Damian has not
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Maybe...Reader gets real angry at guarddog!ghost and make him sleep on the blanket. Or not letting him on couches/beds.
Because if they want to play it like this, she's alright. Actually, she has a second collar for Johnny.
Maybe
i was wanting to play with this idea ( ͡°( ͡° ͜ʖ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ʖ ͡°) ͡°) -> more here
He's gawping at the sight before him.
"What's goin' on here?"
When Soap came home, he wasn't really expecting anything different. Just you, your dog, and a nice warm welcome back from the both of you. But not this. He was expecting anything else but this.
Kneeling on the ground, below the couch and right next to your feet is Ghost, not in his usual spot on the couch where you would normally be sitting in his lap. Soap raises his brow curiously at the adorable disgruntlement on your face compared to the content amusement radiating off of the lieutenant turned guard dog.
"I'm in the doghouse," Ghost informs, tone oddly facetious considering the obvious trouble he's in with you. In fact, he appears proud when he twists to look up at you from his spot on the ground. "'Parently I was 'barking too much' whatever the hell that means. Just pointed out a few flaws in 'er logic about something."
You're quick to rebuke him. "Hey, I told you if you were going to bark, at least do it properly."
Soap can't hold back his amused smile at how assertive you sound. He looks to Ghost to see his reaction, and instead of acting chastised, there's a flippant sort of glee tinged with arousal when he speaks again, slow and dark, "Woof, woof, pet."
You squint at the endearment, silently debating with yourself if you should do something about the cheek, but ultimately let it slide. Soap shakes his head in disbelief, but also chuckles much like Ghost did. He walks over, stopping by the kneeling man, exchanging a knowing smirk with him.
"Why don't you go easy on the dog?" Soap suggests, taking on a more lenient approach as he pats Ghost's head, sharing an amused look with him. "He's always been a good boy, hasn't he?"
"Woof," Ghost repeats, pointedly looking at you.
"See?" Soap points out. "Obedient!"
"Keep talking and I'll put a collar on you too, MacTavish," You threaten, turning your ire on him. "Make you both sleep on a blanket instead of the bed."
An interesting thought, but as much as he likes seeing this side of you, he and Ghost will have to keep you humble before you bite off more than you can chew.
"Careful, sweets." Soap chuckles lowly, deepening his voice in that way that makes your thighs clench. He hears you gulp and an amused huff from Ghost as he flashes his canines, leaning a shadow over you and forcing you to look up at him from the couch. He lets his smile widen into something a little feral. "I gave you Ghost to take care of because he's good for first time dog owners. He's quick to listen and willing to please, but I don't think you can handle two dogs. Got that?"
You swallow thickly, properly chastened, and weakly nod your head. "Yes, sir."
"Good girl."
-
sorry in this au i think ghost is gonna be the only dog, although maybe you're all a little dog-coded here. also you and ghost would be the only dogs soap likes.
#bangus answers#liminsendhelp#soap x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#141 sweet treat <3
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Til Death do us apart (or doesn’t)
Pairing: Bottom Male Reader x Top Male Character
cw: 18+, dubious consent, paranormal activity, cheating, ghost sex
Thinking about you, a widower trying to move on in life, finding yourself a respectable man who loves you, and even letting him move into the house that your late husband built for you.
For a while life seems to be going great, that is of course until things start moving around the house and you start hearing strange sounds and at night it’s like you feel the ghost of a touch brushing over your cheek or hand.
Sometimes you’ll even feel it in the most intimate places- a cold hand stroking you over your briefs, and thumbing at your tip til you’re weeping through the fabric. Sometimes you’ll feel something big and solid rubbing up against the cleft of your ass, never once attempting to remove the fabric, just rutting against you, as if testing the waters.
At times you’ll wake up with a raging boner other times you’ll wake up to find out you’ve came in your pajamas pants.
At first you think it must be your boyfriend, and although you don’t mind you’d rather he wake you up for the fun instead of leaving you hanging like that. However he seems absolutely clueless to what you’re talking about.
Eventually you’re forced to chalk it up to having really vivid dreams but soon things start getting more intense, and you start dreaming of these cold hands roughly parting your legs till the muscles in your thighs ache, calloused fingers brushing over the furely ring of muscles before they’re forcing their way inside of you, prodding and poking against the sensetive wall of nerves and leaving you soaked all over.
You don’t mention these specific dreams to your boyfriend, fearing he’ll start thinking you’re crazy if you do that. Instead you try to work the tension out. It could very well be that you’re just really pent up. So you have him fuck you and make you cum over and over til your hole is all puffy and soar and his cum is leaking out but it never seems to be enough and you find yourself feeling disappointed as you curl up into his arms.
And it’s one of these nights where you stir from your sleep, body still soar from previous activities but instead of being surrounded by your boyfriend’s heat you’re plunged into frigid air, and forced down on all four on the bed.
What’s going on? You think to yourself, eyes searching the dark room only to see your boyfriend laying there dead asleep, completely oblivious to what’s happening.
You try to call out for him but it’s like you can’t speak, tongue practically tied up and when you try to reach out for him, you find yourself unable to move your body, as if something has pinned you to the mattress.
Suddenly you feel something big, cold and solid rutting against your ass, and it’s then you realize that this is very much like one of the many wet dreams you’ve had.
The wet dreams you’ve been silent about. The wet dreams where a strange entity will come crawling into your bedroom whenever your boyfriend has failed to make you satisfied. Wet dreams that usually involved having something big and solid rut against your ass, obscene squelching sound ringing out with every thrust because your ass is still dripping with your boyfriend cum, before they fuck you the way you want to be fucked.
Loud grunts and groans escape your lips as you subconsciously buck your hips, body too familiar with whatever’s doing this while your mind is telling you to get out of here, this isn’t a dream, this isn’t your boyfriend doing this, you’re practically being felt up by something- someone unknown and you should get out of here!
However there isn’t much more room for thought as that very something- someone plunges straight into your sopping wet hole, leaving you surging forward onto the bed, head now buried in the mattress and ass left out in the open.
This time you try to yelp in surprise, haven’t expected the sudden movements of whatever’s holding you down but just like before you’re unable to speak, and you finds yourself laying soundless on the sheets, letting whatever use you as they please.
Whatever has you pinned beneath their body, takes full advantage of this, pulls their cock all the way out before slamming back inside, slowing down every once a while before driving back up to you again, slamming so deep into you you can practically taste them, all while you can only soundlessly gape like a fish on land.
And from this angle you can’t really see what or who’s doing this- only left to feel how they’re erratically driving up into you, stretching you wide til it burns your ass even though you’re dripping with your boyfriends cum and they’re pumping their pre inside you.
Each thrusts of their hips, sends a wave of pleasure running through your body and it doesn’t take much before you’re withering on the sheets, muted sobs escaping your lips.
Please, god please
You want to cry out but find yourself just slobbering all over the mattress.
Somehow the pace increases, the sheer force of the thrusts practically rocks the bed and you can’t help but wondered if your boyfriend has woken up yet, if he’s laying there looking horrified while you’re getting fucked right in front of him.
And instead of being horrified yourself you can’t help but be turned on at the thought of it , hole subconsciously clenching down onto the dick.
That very someone- something must’ve felt youve finally given in, and wraps a hand around your weeping dick, roughly strokes from rot to tip while continuously slamming their hips.
Yes, yes, yes- God, please!
With each thrust you feel heat coiling in your gut, before you suddenly cum, ears ringing world blurring out as you spill all over the mattress and the hand wrapped around you.
And it’s not long before the rough pounding turns into firm rolls of the hips, and that very someone finally cums inside you, thick hot spurts of cum filling up your ass, even leaves it trickling out of you.
And when you finally come down from your high, you notice you can move again, tongue running to say a thousand words as you turn to look at the mirror behind you.
You’re met with the sight of yourself down all four, hole gaping and dripping with someone’s cum, but with no one else beside you.
“Honey?”
#bottom male reader#top male character#sub male reader#dom male character#cod x reader#jjk x reader#toji x reader#suguru x reader#satoru x reader#Wolverine x reader#Deadpool x reader#ghost x reader#price x reader#x reader#x male reader#mlm Nsft#queer Nsft
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The amount of people that reduce Jude Duarte's character to being a bloodthirsty killer gets on my nerves. Jude is not bloodthirsty, she doesn't delight in killing people. She is trying to survive in a world that is not meant for mortals, a world that wants to break her.
She forgave Taryn and disguised herself to save Taryn after she killed Locke, took pity for Cardan when seeing him get hit by Balekin, saving the human girl Sophie and cried herself to sleep after she died, and went to save the Ghost even though he betrayed her (yes, I know the reason behind his betrayal).
Every time she takes a life, it's because that person has tried to hurt her back.
Valerian tried to kill her in Chapter 18 when he broke into her home. Jude stabs him in the chest but still tries to help him afterwards.
"He reaches for the blade as though to draw it out. Don't, I say automatically, because that will only make the wound worse. I grab for anything nearby-there is a discarded petticoat in the floor that I can use to stanch the blood. He slides down onto his side, away from me, and sneers, although he can barely open his eyes. You've got to let me-, I start." He despises her but even in his final moments, she wanted to help.
She has suffered so much in life and did things that she had to do to survive. And when she spills blood, it's not for fun. It's to protect herself or the people she loves.
Jude Duarte is not cruel like Balekin or Valerian or sees people as amusements like Locke. Jude is kind, selfless, and puts others before herself.
I love seeing her kick some ass but don't reduce her character to that. She's so much more.
🎨: Frostbite Studios
🎨: Eernarts
🎨: Illustratinghan
Me when Jude Duarte:
Me when people reduce the complexity of her character to her being a killer (y'all don't get her like I do):
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deal - cl16 (41/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: Who knew this Christmas breakfast would be this exciting?
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of sex, creampie and oral), fluff, minimal angst (because it wouldn't be my story without a tiny bit of angst)
Word Count: 3.5k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: feedback is appreciated. love you.
The touch of Charles' hand on your naked skin draws you out of a restful sleep, slowly and comfortably.
You feel his chest against your back, nestling more snugly against your spine with each of his breaths. His arm lies heavily on your side, reassuringly and relaxed around your middle, as if he never wants to let you go again.
As if you would ever want that.
His embrace feels like a warm blanket that you want to snuggle up in forever and never let go of. Soft and gentle, he surrounds you, holds you tight and presses you to him; body to body, skin to skin.
You breathe out quietly.
You would love to turn around and wake Charles with feather-light kisses on his warm skin, to continue where you left off last night. But for a moment, you want to enjoy his closeness, on this quiet morning after Christmas, before you have to return to reality and everyday life.
You slide closer to him, press yourself against him and breathe in his scent. His warm breath gently caresses your neck as he cuddles his face into the curve between your head and your shoulder. His lips ghost gently over the soft skin there before he absentmindedly and as if it were the most natural thing in the world presses a kiss on the spot on your neck.
His hand, which was still resting on the bed sheet, lies flat on your stomach to press you tightly against him before it searches for the warmth of your body. Hesitantly, it slides under your shirt before finding its firm place on your naked skin. Although he is sleeping, Charles spreads his fingers so that some of his fingertips gently slide under the hem of your shorts and remain there.
You have to suppress a deep sigh to avoid waking Charles, although there is nothing else you would rather do.
His words almost repeat themselves in your thoughts in your thoughts – “You have a few holes I can fill to keep me occupied” – and the mere thought of it makes you have to press your thighs together.
How it would feel to have him pressed against you. His weight on yours. How it would feel to fall apart on his cock, drunk on pleasure and his lips on your heated skin as he uses you as he pleases. Filling your pussy again and again and again, maybe even your –
You feel your arousal pooling in your shorts and decide to get out of bed before you jump Charles' bones, not wanting to wake him up for sex – or something remotely close to it.
Carefully and slowly, you slide his arm off your heated body and gently lay it on the mattress so you can get up without waking him. You immediately miss the feeling of his warm skin on yours and you would love to snuggle back under the covers, kiss his chest and let him touch you until you see stars. But when you look at him, his eyes closed and a faint smile on his face, you decide to let him sleep.
He would be leaving for training camp soon and you wouldn't see each other for a few days. He will surely need all the sleep he can get before Andrea will be demanding and exhausting him to the bone there.
In the bathroom, you quietly slip into a pair of leggings and a large turtleneck sweater, then leave the room on your tiptoes, but not without looking back at Charles. He is now lying on your side of the bed, on his back and with one arm behind his head. His other hand is on his naked chest. He has kicked the blanket away, so it is lying at his feet – and you can see a dark spot on his gray boxer shorts. Right where it stretches over his boner.
You quickly look away, slip out of the bedroom and quietly close the door behind you. You tiptoe through the house, not knowing whether the rest of the Leclerc family is still asleep or already up and about, and make your way down the stairs towards the kitchen.
“Good morning,” Pascale smiles at you as you enter the room. She is standing at the humming coffee machine, a dark red cup is under it. "Did you sleep well?”
You smile back at her. “Yes, thank you,” you reply. You don't mention that you slept well because her son gave you a mindblowing orgasm for Christmas and called you “his good girl.”
The coffee machine stops humming and Pascale reaches for the coffee cup. “I'm glad. The bed is quite old and I was a little worried that it might be too uncomfortable.” She takes a sip of the hot coffee before looking at you. “I hope you enjoyed our Christmas.”
You can't hide a broad smile. “It was perfect.”
Pascale smiles sadly. “Well, it hasn't been perfect for a long time,” she replies quietly, and even without her saying it, you know that she misses her husband very much. She looks into her cup and clutches it with her fingers as if it were the last straw. Mama Leclerc takes a deep breath. “But with each year it becomes more bearable. And now that you're here and Charles is finally smiling again –” she gently lays her hand on your cheek, "- it's getting easier for me, too."
You see the tears in her eyes and before you can stop yourself, you hug her so hard she almost spills her coffee. "Thank you, Pascale," you whisper. ”For taking me in.”
She puts her free arm around you. “You don't have to thank me for that, cherié. You make Charles happy – I can't thank you enough for that.” As you pull away from each other, she smiles gently. “This home is now yours too. No matter what may come.” She presses a fleeting kiss on your cheek. “I wanted to start breakfast right away. Would you like to help me? I just have to take care of something, but you can prepare the dough for the pancakes. You can find the recipe in the cookbook over there. I'll be right back – make yourself at home.” And without saying another word, she leaves the kitchen, leaving you in silence.
Without hesitation, you open cupboards and drawers, looking for all the necessary utensils and ingredients to prepare the dough for the pancakes. Pascale's cookbook is in French, but you understand it well enough to start preparing the meal without any problems.
As you weigh the flour and pour it into a large bowl, you hear footsteps behind you. You turn around and see Charles standing in the doorway. His hair is standing on end in all directions and when his eyes meet yours, he seems to breathe a sigh of relief.
“Good morning,“ you smile at him and turn back to the bowl to add the sugar to the flour. "Did you sleep well?"
You hear his soft steps and then feel his arms wrap around your middle to press you against his chest. ”Very well,“ he whispers. "But to be honest, I missed you when I woke up.”
Goosebumps spread across your skin as he gently and slowly slides his hands under your sweater. “I didn't want to wake you.”
His fingers dig briefly into your sides as he turns you towards him. “I thought for a moment – you were –” He takes a deep breath. “I was afraid that you had disappeared. That last night was just – I don't know – that I imagined it.”
You smile at him and put your hands on his chest. “You didn't. Don't worry.”
Charles returns your smile. “Thank God,” he replies. “I couldn't bear it if we weren't friends anymore.”
Friends. Friends. Friends.
The word repeats itself in your thoughts like a broken record – but that's okay, you think. You take what you can get from him. Even if it's only physical and it ultimately breaks your heart.
You'd rather have some of him than none at all.
You raise your hand and let your fingertips gently glide over his cheekbone. “Don't you ever worry your pretty head about that. I promised you I'm not going anywhere.”
He reaches for your hand and kisses your knuckles. “You better not,” he smiles against your fingers. “And even if you did go, I'd follow you anywhere.” He leans his forehead against yours and his warm breath caresses your face. The palm of his hand, which was just on your back, slides down under the hem of your leggings and grabs your ass. “And there's nothing that can stop me.”
"There's no way I have to close my eyes every time I enter a room,” complains Arthur, holding his hand in front of his eyes.
Charles rolls his eyes before he digs his fingers briefly into your butt and then moves away from you a little. “Don't act like you're all innocent,” grins the middle Leclerc and winks at you before he goes to wash his hands in the sink.
Arthur purses his lips. “At least I'm not doing it in the middle of the kitchen.”
“Who's doing it in the middle of the kitchen?” Pascale asks, returning to the kitchen with a large basket. She glances around briefly before placing the basket on the counter. Then she puts her hands on her hips, as if waiting for an answer.
“No one, Maman. No one would dare do that here,” Charles smiles and hugs his mother before giving her a fleeting kiss on the cheek. He glances into the basket. ”Did you really prepare croissants?”
Mama-Leclerc rolls her eyes and gently pushes her son away. “I have. They just need to go in the oven and then we can have breakfast.” She looks at you. “How are you doing with the dough for the pancakes, cherié?”
“Not very well,” Arthur grins and takes a cup out of the cupboard to put it under the coffee machine. "I think she was quite distracted."
Charles gives his little brother a weak slap on the back of the head. "We'll take care of everything, Maman.”
Pascale raises an eyebrow. “Very well. The croissants need to be in the oven for twenty minutes. In that time, you two take care of the pancakes and Arthur, please set the table,” she orders before disappearing back out the door.
Arthur sighs. “Where are Charlotte and Enzo, anyway? Why aren't they helping?”
Your roommate shrugs and takes the milk out of the fridge and pours it into a measuring cup before pouring it over the flour and sugar. “I don't know. But it's not the first time that Enzo has shirked.”
While the brothers are complaining about where the oldest Leclerc son and his girlfriend are, you prepare the dough. Charles puts the croissants on the baking sheet and slides them into the oven, and Arthur puts the dishes on the table, along with Nutella and jam, before disappearing to change.
You flip a pancake in the hot pan. “It's been a long time since I enjoyed Christmas,” you suddenly confess, even surprised by your honesty.
Charles takes a plate out of the cupboard and puts it next to the stove so that you can put the finished pancakes on it straight away. “What do you mean?” He leans against the worktop and looks at you, his fingers curved around the edge.
You hesitantly place the spatula on the pancake and press it onto the bottom of the pan. “My parents were never the kind of people who thought Christmas was important,” you explain. “They were always at work, so I was always home alone on those days.”
The Monegasque tilts his head. “Did you at least have a Christmas tree? Or presents?”
You purse your lips and shake your head before you take the finished pancake out of the pan and heat up another dollop of dough. “A Christmas tree, yes, but it was made of metal and therefore not particularly Christmassy. There were presents, but I think only so that they wouldn't feel guilty about not being there.”
It is the first time that you have spoken openly about your parents. Somewhere inside you, there is a nagging feeling that it is not right to speak badly of the people who raised you, but putting them in a good light would not be the truth. And there is no one in this world whom you trust as much as the man watching you carefully turn the pancake.
“Sounds pretty lonely."
You nod slightly. ”It was. With lawyers as parents, it was never easy. You can imagine the path in life they had planned for me. And how disappointed they were when I wanted to do a creative job. They wanted a small, perfect law student – and they got an unemployed photographer.”
Charles apparently senses how difficult it is for you to talk about your parents, because he takes the spatula out of your hand and puts it aside to pull you close. He gently combs his fingers through your hair until his fingertips rest on the back of your neck and he lifts your head so you look at him.
“First of all, you're no longer unemployed. Remember?” he smiles. His fingertips gently press into the muscles in the back of your neck. ‘Besides, you're perfect just the way you are. There's nothing I would change about you.’ His gaze wanders from your eyes down to your lips and further down to your turtleneck sweater. ”Except for the clothes, maybe.”
You look down at yourself in puzzlement. “Why? Do I look that bad?”
“Not necessarily bad,” he suddenly whispers. “But I think I'd like you better without clothes.” His voice has dropped an octave and goes through your skin and bones, vibrating inside you and making your panties suddenly stick to you. Charles puts his thumb under your chin and gently caresses your jaw. “I would love to carry you upstairs and repeat last night – but this time without clothes.” He leans forward a little and kisses your forehead before pulling back a little and meeting your eyes again. ‘You are absolutely perfect,’ he repeats emphatically. ”And you'll never have to spend another Christmas alone. Not as long as I'm around. My family is your family now, too.”
He lets go of you and reaches for the pan, preventing the pancake from burning behind you. You can only watch him silently, with the skill with which he swings the pan. The veins in his forearm and hand are bulging, and even if you wanted to, you definitely couldn't take your eyes off him.
How did he manage to turn a conversation about your parents into one where you want to drop to your knees in front of him and –
“How much longer for the croissants?” Pascale asks as she re-enters the kitchen, bowls of fruit in her hands.
“Not much longer,” Charles replies, placing the last pancake on the stack before setting it on the dining table. He pulls out a chair and smiles at you. ”Why don't you sit down, mon amour? I'll take care of the rest.”
A few minutes later, the whole room is filled with the aroma of warm pastries and coffee, and most of the Leclerc family gathers at the table. Charles, who is not forced to sit on the uncomfortable stool due to the absence of his older brother, takes a seat next to you and slides so close to you that he almost sits on your chair. His knee presses comfortably against yours and he gently places his hand on your thigh.
But there is nothing sexual about the touch. It is comforting, soothing, and warm. An assurance that you are not alone – and never have to be alone again.
When Arthur puts the first pancake on his plate, Charlotte and Enzo join them.
“I'm sorry, Maman,” he apologizes and kisses her briefly on the forehead. ‘We didn't mean to be rude.’ He sits down on the uncomfortable stool across from you – but not without giving Charles a dirty look – and Charlotte sits down across from you. A broad smile is painted on her face.
She is also wearing a dark red turtleneck with a beautiful bow. The sleeves are pulled up over her hands and on her left ring finger is... a ring?
You open your eyes wide and Charlotte catches your glance. Her grin extends almost from ear to ear.
“But we have a good reason for being late,” Enzo interrupts your train of thought and looks at the woman next to him with a look that is dripping with love and happiness. He grabs her hand before raising it to his lips and kissing her knuckles so that everyone can see the diamond on her finger.
Pascale jumps up from her chair as if stung by an adder. “Oh my goodness!” she almost screams, causing Arthur to drop his fork in shock.
“We're engaged,” Charlotte announces, showing off the rock on her finger.
Suddenly there is alot of noise, everyone gets up from their seats and congratulates the happy couple. You first embrace Enzo and then Charlotte, who squeezes you tightly.
“I'm so happy for you,” you smile and examine the ring, which suits her perfectly.
“Thank you,” she replies, unable to contain her joy. She fidgets from one foot to the other like a little kid. "I never would have thought that he would ask me to marry him on Christmas of all days." She hugs you again. "This is going to be so great! I can't wait to start planning!" You glance over at Enzo, who playfully rolls his eyes. Charlotte kisses her fiancé on the cheek. “Don't pretend. You asked me voluntarily!”
“I did,” he smiles at her. “And I don't regret it for a second.”
Pascale, trying to hide the tears in her eyes, claps her hands. “I wish your father was here to see this,” she smiles. “He would have been very happy for you.”
“Thank you, Maman.“ Enzo kisses his mother on the cheek before he wants to sit down again.
”You certainly won't sit on the stool,” Mama-Leclerc replies, glancing over at Charles, who is trying to hide behind you. ”Charles! Swap your chair with the groom! I want them to be as comfortable as possible today!”
“But Maman –” the Monegasque tries to change her mind, but when he catches the loving and tearful look in his mother's eyes, he falls silent. Without another word, he and his big brother swap chairs, so that in the end he is sitting on the stool again. He puts his hand back on your thigh as if this were its rightful place.
“Tell me! When did you ask her? How did you ask her? Have you already talked about a date? Would you rather have it in summer or winter?“ Pascale's questions come thick and fast, making the whole table laugh.
”Now don't bombard them like that,” Arthur laughs, just managing to duck before his mother can catch him with the napkin. ”Just let them - you know - talk.”
But Pascale isn't paying any attention to her youngest son. She rests her elbow on the table, puts her chin in the palm of her hand, and looks at the newly engaged couple. “Well? At what point did you realize you wanted to ask her?”
Enzo grabs the hand of his fiancée and looks at her, smiling. “It was actually a very mundane moment,” he begins to tell the story, but you are not listening.
You feel Charles's warm and loving gaze on you, and when you look at him, he smiles at you. You hear Enzo's voice as if through cotton wool, telling of a movie night and how he had told an incredibly bad joke that Charlotte found so awful that she had to laugh at it for twenty minutes.
Your focus is on Charles, his warm gaze, his heavy hand on your thigh. You smile at him and a sparkle flashes in his eyes.
“There is no one in this world that I love more than her,” Enzo finally says.
There is no one in this world that I love more than you, Charles.
And as if he were interpreting your gaze, as if he knew what was written in your thoughts, he gently squeezes your thigh. Twice.
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