#v; to make a name you pay the price
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@notyourdumblonde - continued from here
"I can see that," Gylfie said dryly as she studied the girl - her expression unreadable, even with her helm tucked beneath her arm. Rarely did she remove it, but... she knew Theodora, and felt no reason to keep herself masked, especially when Theodora knew her, too. "But why this time? What happened?"
It was another fight. That she already knew. After all... it was not the first time she had to break up a fight that the girl was involved in. A fight she oft started. There was a fire in her, no doubt, something that was a relief, as much as Gylfie worried about her, but... gods, she needed a better outlet for it. She feared the day it would end poorly. A day she would have no choice but to go to Theodora's parents, and... well, there was a reason she was careful to avoid them. She wished not to test Everard's temper, and there was little she could do for Luciana now. Not until she reached out for help herself, because Gyflie knew if she tried to get involved, it could only worsen the situation.
How ironic. She was a Judge Magister, and yet was still utterly helpless when it came to someone she...
Gylfie stifled a sigh at Theodora's questions, and shook her head. "Another time, yes, but 'tis my duty to handle domestic troubles as well. And you, my dear, have become my problem." She eyed her as she watched the girl wrap her ribbon around her finger, and felt her heart sink. A bloodied nose, mayhap even a broken one, and if her finger was broken too...
"Theodora, I do not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, but I cannot keep you out of legal trouble forever." Her voice was stern, though not harsh. "I do what I can to keep you from being arrested for these fights, but if you keep this up, I will have no say in the matter. Keep your spirit, but try to pick your battles instead of facing them all. You keep this up, and there will come a day you will not walk away."
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MERRY CHRISTMAS, I MISS YOU - N. HISCHIER
[6.7k] when you received a call from your ex on christmas eve, the last thing you wanted to do was to pretend you're still together in front of his parents.
warnings: 18+, exes to lovers, angst, fluff, unprotected p in v (wrap it up !), creampie, oral both f and m receiving, slightly unedited, if i missed anything pls let me know
a/n: i have no idea what this is lol, i did lose the plot at some point so the ending i planned didn’t make it and so didn’t the title, anyhow i think it’s best this way. i hope you all enjoy ! feedback is greatly appreciated ♡
A year had passed, it was December again and Nico had done nothing if not being stuck with the same feeling of missing you. Almost an entire year of no contact, apart from a few congrats texts for your occasional achievements, and yet there he was staring at his phone for the third time tonight, his thumb hovering over your name.
Nico was no coward, he needed to keep his head on his shoulders for his line of work, but he was certainly trying to find any excuse to keep him from calling you. Almost one year of convincing himself that he moved on, that he was content with how your relationship has ended, just for all that progress to crumble at his feet because he was, actually, a coward.
But this wasn’t just about him. His parents were in town for Christmas for the first time in years, excited to finally spend the holidays in New Jersey with his son. And they expected you to be there. He hadn’t told them you two broke up, though. He couldn’t. He was never able to break the news to his mom who considered you as her daughter, and he had to pay the price now.
With a heavy sigh, Nico pressed call. He immediately started to regret calling, cringing at the idea of a missed call on your phone if he hung up now, when the ringing stopped.
“Hello?” You said, voice coated with slight confusion. Nico felt a punch to the chest at the sound of your voice, all at once familiar and foreign.
“Hey, it’s me.” Nico’s voice faltered.
“I know.” You promptly utter. Silence fell on the line.
“It’s been a while, I know,” Nico mumbled “but I need a favor.” You hummed as an acknowledgement for him to keep speaking.
“My parents are in town for Christmas and they expect to see you.”
“I don’t see why they—”
“I never told them.”
Nico was almost sure you hung up for how quiet you became. His heart drumming in his chest was making him more helpless than he already was, unable to come up with something else to say.
His phone sat heavy on his hand when he heard you take a deep breath. A nervous laugh escaped your mouth, what the hell whispered in between.
“You’ve had all this time to tell them we broke up, what were you waiting for?” Your voice lacked judgment.
“I know I messed up,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “But they’re here now, and I—I didn’t know how to tell them. It’s Christmas tomorrow, Y/N. They’re so excited to see you. I just need you to come tonight or tomorrow. Please.”
“Nico—”
“It’s just one dinner. Then you’ll never have to hear from me again. I swear. If not for me, do it for them at least.”
He could almost see your furrowed eyebrows and the silence on the line was suffocating him again. Your calm breathing was making his chest tight, not ready to brace for rejection.
“Okay.”
He took a long exhale, “thank you.” He spoke softly, a small smile painting his lips.
Before he had the chance to speak up, you had already hung up. Nico sat back, his head tipping against the edge of the couch, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling while bringing his arm down with a thud. Your voice still echoed in his ears, each word carving a hollow space in his chest. Your voice was as warm as he remembered, yet so flat.
Y/N: spare key still under the mat? i’m coming after work, not sure about tomorrow.
Nico’s phone vibrated in his hand, your text’s preview giving him some reassurance.
Nico: yes Nico: and thank you
He pushed himself off the couch, his body feeling heavy. It wasn’t long before he had to go and pick up his parents from the airport. He absentmindedly picked up his car keys and walked out to his car.
It was supposed to be simple. A call, a favor, a dinner. But he has been clinging to the idea of you, of what you used to be, that he now felt like facing the consequences of his own actions instead of dragging you back into his life would have been a much better idea.
Nico didn’t realize the drive, the pick up, and the drive back to his apartment had already happened. Tension began coiling in his chest, the heavy weight he kept feeling for days now coming back.
He didn’t want to see you, actually. Or maybe he did. His mind was bringing him back to the night you both had reluctantly agreed that a break up was needed. It was no secret to you that he didn’t want to break up, he told you then. He wasn’t happy, he felt like dying for the most part. He couldn’t sleep, let alone leave his apartment if not for practice and games. But that was what you wanted and he gave it to you.
“You okay in there, kid?” His dad’s call out echoed from the living room, bringing him back to reality.
“Yeah, I just needed water.” Nico called back. When he turned around to join them in the living room, he was met with his mom leaning on the kitchen doorway. With eyes wide, he gave her a tight lipped smile, hoping she won’t question his behavior. I’m fine wouldn’t have been enough for her, she could always see right through him, and even if Nico told her the truth it probably wouldn’t have made him feel any better.
Before she could say something, the front door opened and his mom jumped to see you, forgetting about his son, and Nico stayed there with goosebumps forming on his arms, hot and cold shivers running down his spine.
Upon entering you heard a brief silence. You didn’t even register that his mom was right there that she already jogged to bring you in her arms. You were frozen in your space for a second, unsure of what to do. The last time you’d seen each other was the summer Nico brought you to Switzerland where everything felt so right. Yet here you were. You missed her, that was true; she reached out to you a few times, and despite knowing it was out of the kindness of her heart, you couldn’t help but think of how many excuses Nico threw at her for your not being around. How he lied to his mom for all this time was something you couldn’t comprehend.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you, sweetheart!” She cheered, parting slightly from the hug and giving your shoulders a comforting squeeze.
“Hi, Mrs. Hischier.”
“Please, how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Katja.” She waved you off and you smiled. His dad followed, giving you a simple side hug.
As his parents continued fussing over you, Nico finally moved to the living room to watch the scene unfold. You stood in his apartment again and it felt like you never left. You were beautiful and you had those rosy cheeks you would get from the cold wind of Jersey that Nico loved so much. The ache in his chest grew and it was getting hard to resist the tears that kept forming in his eyes since this morning.
When you made eye contact with Nico it was like someone punched you in the chest. His brown eyes were glossy, wide like a deer in headlights. He didn’t shave, not that he did often, but it looked less kept than it usually was.
You reluctantly stepped towards him, gaze focused on his chest and that’s when you saw his left hand twitch in your direction before he brought it back down. It completely left your mind that you couldn’t keep your distance from him now with his parents here. Though the moments you two kissed in front of family were almost nonexistent, Nico was always the kind of guy to keep you close within arm reach, so no physical contact would be odd.
So you did the most natural thing you could do. You gave him a hug. Your skin was burning where he was touching you. It felt like that night again and you wanted to disappear. You felt his heart rapidly thumping in his chest, or maybe it was yours. It didn’t really matter. Nico looked at his mom before he looked down at you. He was getting overwhelmed with the amount of times he almost cried only today and prayed for the day to come to an end sooner.
“Hey.” Your voice was small, audible only to him. He replied with an equally small hey, throat dry. Silence stretched between you and you could feel the tension on your skin. A small part of you couldn’t part ways as you inhaled his scent. The warmth from his chest was seeping through his hoodie and you wished you could just stay there a little longer.
You barely drew back when Katja put a hand on your shoulder and brought you back into her with a side hug.
“Come, sit. Let me catch you up while we eat. I’ll show you some pictures from this summer, it was a shame you couldn’t come to Switzerland this time.”
You casted a glance at Nico which he avoided. You barely registered Katja’s words as she scrolled through her phone for you and all you could think of was how she deserved to know. She looked so happy sharing these memories with you, as though you still belonged here, and it wasn’t her fault that she believed so.
“Next time, you have to come. We missed you so much.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
You swallowed hard, forcing another smile. Nico shifted in his chair beside you, his hand reaching for his water but his posture was rigid. He didn’t say a word, you could feel the tension radiating off him silently acknowledging the lie hanging in the air. A part of you wanted to say something, to clear the air, because his mom was kind, but it wasn’t for you to deal with. It wasn’t you that lied.
The pizza in front of you looked unpleasant as the ache in your stomach made you more nauseous.
*
You wanted to go home. Nico’s parents called it a night early blaming it on jet lag and that tomorrow is gonna be a big day, his father said.
You were left alone with Nico in the living room, neither of you were saying anything. You were just staring ahead paying no mind to whatever Christmas movie was left playing softly on the TV.
It was awkward. You put yourself in this situation because you missed Nico, truthfully. When he called you this morning you weren’t really thinking of what was best for you, you just wanted an excuse to come back to him. Selfish as it was. It was rather hypocritical that you craved his presence again after you were the one to propose the break up. But you spent two years together so your whole life consisted of him. He was everywhere, your apartment smelled like him even months after he left, things he left behind that both of you have forgotten about were lingering in a corner in your closet. It took time letting him go from your mind, but you were here and it felt so wrong. The look he gave you when you parted from your hug earlier made you feel so guilty.
“I’ll sleep here, you can take the bed.” Nico said softly, voice above a whisper. You startled anyway, jerking your head in his direction. You had told him earlier that to not raise any suspicion with his parents, you would spend the night here.
“It’s your bed.” You replied with the same tone. He looked at you now, his brown eyes glowing in the dim light emanating from the TV. You couldn’t take the bed, it would smell like him and you could endure it only so much before going crazy.
“It doesn't matter.”
“What are you gonna tell them when they find you here in the morning?” He didn’t answer, instead he brought his focus back to the TV. Were you going to regret this? Probably. “Just come to bed with me, Nico.”
Avoiding his gaze, you slowly began walking towards his room, your feet moving on their own accord. Everything was left the same. The pit in your stomach grew tighter when you pushed the door to his room open and blindly reached for the lamp on the nightstand. The patter of Nico’s feet grew louder until he reached his bedroom’s doorway.
“There’s still some clothes you left here.” He motioned to the dresser next to him. You hummed in response and as he rummaged through one of the drawers, you stood by the bed like you couldn't move. Idiot. If you weren't staring at him so intensely you would've missed how shaky his hands were when he reached for you to grab at your clothes. You peered up for a second, his gaze focused on the clothes in his hand heavy.
“I’ll–”
“Yeah.”
The bathroom door clicked shut behind you, your forehead coming to rest on it. He was beautiful. And he made your heart warm like he always knew how to. But he wasn’t the Nico you always knew, you could see it in his eyes. Fear started pooling in your stomach. Was it your doing? You avoided the mirror in front of you completely.
After hastily changing and brushing your teeth, you joined him back into the room. He was already under the covers, on his usual side, front facing the window. You quietly got under the blanket too and laid close to the end of the bed staring at the ceiling. The hum of the heater filled the silence, yet the weight of unspoken words pressed down on your heart.
“Never thought you’d say yes.”
You took your time to respond and kept staring at the white ceiling illuminated by the moonlight coming through the curtains’ gap.
“Why?”
The rustling of the covers filled the silence as Nico shifted slightly.
“You made it seem like you wanted nothing to do with me anymore.”
“I don’t regret you, Nico.”
“I never said you did.”
You exhaled sharply. The weight of the duvet became unbearable, and with a swift motion you shoved it off, pooling in your lap; arms followed with a dull thud, slamming onto the bunched-up duvet. The cold air nipped at your exposed burning skin.
“Talk to me.” You breathed. Nico didn't move and you were growing frustrated. “Do you regret it?”
“Being with you? Sometimes. I made many mistakes and you were always there for me and I took that for granted. I pushed you away when you needed me most, and by the time I realized it, it was too late. I know you deserve so much better but deep down, I wish we didn't end that night, we just stay there and talk it out.”
“I think that maybe I would always let you come back” he said softly, almost inaudibly, “not that I waited for you, exactly. But when I called you this morning and you agreed, I had the tiniest hope that things could change. If you came, and at the end of the night told me you still loved me and asked me to be yours again… I'm not sure there’s anything in the world I wouldn't have done for that to really happen.”
Shuffling towards the middle of the bed, your hand reached for him to comb through his hair, his body jumping a little at the unexpected contact. He shifted a little to get closer to you and turned around to face you.
“You’re awful.”
“What?”
“Don’t say things like that,” you said, your voice low and strained. “Not when we’re lying here like this. I didn’t leave because I stopped loving you, Nico, I left because I didn’t recognize us anymore. You were indifferent, coming home upset and angry more often than not all because of your job. I could’ve respected that, I would’ve listened to you if you opened up to me. But you didn’t talk to me anymore and I didn’t know what to do with you, it’s like you were holding a knife to my chest and slowly pushing it deeper until you reached my heart. It got to a point where I dreamed of you asking me questions, talking to me, desiring me like you always did. Then I’d open my eyes and you're someone different.”
“Maybe in another lifetime we will find each other at the right time. Maybe we end up like this in each one, but I like to believe there is at least one where we deserve each other. I just don't think it’s this one.”
Your hand never stopped caressing through his hair. It didn’t take long for a stray tear to fall from your eye just as Nico closed his eyes to avoid his own spilling over the pillow with no avail. You halted your movements to bring your thumb under his eye and wipe at the loose tears. He didn’t say anything else, and neither did you. Nico grabbed at the covers you bunched up earlier to cover you again.
You shifted slightly, the duvet brushing against your arm as your body relaxed fully into the mattress. You felt his warmth beside you — steady and grounding. The minutes dragged on, and eventually both of your breathing slowed, evening out into sleep.
*
It was early in the morning when Nico woke up. The sunrise barely peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over his bed. It took him a while to realize that it wasn’t his duvet weighing on his chest, it was you. Your face was mushed and lips pouty, his right arm wrapped around you securely. You looked like an angel.
He didn’t have it in his heart to wake you up. Instead, his gaze lingered on your peaceful expression, focused on the soft rise and fall of your breaths that tickled his skin, a steady rhythm that made his chest ache. His thumb brushed against your shoulder lightly, a barely-there touch because it all felt like a dream and he didn’t want it to end. He sighed softly, tilting his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes again. The weight of your body lulled him back to sleep, the hold on you loosening slightly but never letting go.
Moments later, the morning light shining on your eyes stirred you awake, and you couldn’t help but blink groggily. The warmth surrounding you was so comforting that you couldn’t resist burying your face into it and that’s when your heart began to race. Nico’s face was so close you only needed to make the slightest movement before his lips would graze your forehead; his features relaxed and peaceful in his sleep. The stubble on his jaw caught the morning glow, and the soft strands of his hair brushed against his forehead.
Every instinct screamed at you to move, to untangle yourself from the undeniable comfort of being close to him again, but the minutes passed and the blush on your cheeks deepened with every second you lingered. When it became too much to bear, slowly, carefully, you slid out from under his arm, your movements cautious to avoid waking him.
Your feet hit the cool floor and the blush now burning like wildfire across your cheeks while you tiptoed to the kitchen, closing the door gently behind you. The conversation with Nico kept replaying in your head, or rather the fact that he was crying, and Nico never cried in front of you unless they were happy tears.
You relished in his touch. The feeling of his stubble on your hands was something you never thought you’d miss, yet the rough texture was rather comforting. And then this morning when his lips have probably grazed your skin in your sleep at least once, you wished you were conscious to savor it like you actually didn't deserve.
“Huh?”
“I said good morning and merry Christmas.” Katja smiled brightly at you, Rino mirroring her action while also raising his coffee cup. You looked ridiculous still in your rumpled makeshift pajamas and your face still flushed from the morning’s events.
“Oh, merry Christmas.” You offered a small smile as you moved to pour yourself some coffee, hyper aware of their presence. Despite the blush painting your cheeks, you started to feel cold. The t-shirt Nico gave you was thin, an old band shirt you left behind, but the pants were scrunched at your feet. He didn’t notice they were actually his yesterday, they were always yours to wear anyway.
“You’re up early,” Katja remarked, setting her coffee cup on the table. “I thought for sure you two would sleep in after staying up so late talking.”
Your hand froze mid-reach, “yeah, just couldn’t sleep much.” You replied, hoping your tone was casual enough.
She gave you a look but said nothing, her warm demeanor unchanging though she definitely knew something was off. Did she actually hear what you said yesterday night? The walls couldn’t be that thin, right? The sound of footsteps from the hallway behind you woke you up a little, and you didn’t need to turn around to know it was Nico.
“Morning,” he said, his voice gravelly from sleep. You turned slightly, catching sight of him leaning against the counter next to you. His brown hair was disheveled and his shirt slightly wrinkled, but his expression was almost unreadable. If you didn’t know otherwise, you would’ve mistaken his slightly puffy eyes for sleepiness.
His gaze lingered on the ground for a moment, and then he tilted his head up, noticing the way you had wrapped your free arm around yourself. Before you could protest, Nico walked out of the kitchen. Katja glanced at you confused after he barely acknowledged her or Rino.
“Here,” he said, holding his black hoodie from yesterday out to you. It was your favorite, the one that was so fuzzy inside it felt like a blanket and the one he would leave behind for you when he left for road trips. You blinked, momentarily stunned by the gesture.
“Oh, I’m fine—”
“You’re shivering.” He interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. His gaze met yours and reluctantly you took the hoodie, your fingers brushing his briefly as you did.
“Thanks.” You mumbled, slipping it over your head. The warmth was immediate, just like the familiar trace of his scent as it filled your senses. What made it impossible to bear was Nico leaning over just slightly to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. Blush be damned.
Nico moved around the kitchen to pour himself some coffee as you caught the faintest hint of a smirk on Katja’s face. As she walked past to place her now empty cup in the sink, she leaned close to you with the same sly smile still playing on her lips.
“We’re not gonna let Nico cook alone later, right?”
*
The day went by fast and dinner was long done. The unavoidable intimacy seemed to dissipate the cold demeanor you had opted for yesterday when you arrived, just as Nico started to look less dejected. Letting him back in your life wouldn’t be that bad, after all, you did drop everything to be here with him. You still loved him, just like he did you, but you couldn’t accept coming back to Nico after all this pain you left him with.
“What happened between you and Nico?”
The question made you falter, almost dropping the already slippery plate in your hands. There was no you and Nico anymore. Whatever happened between you two didn’t matter anymore as now none of it made sense. It was your mistake all along, the break up. Because if it wasn’t for a bad day at work for the both of you, you wouldn’t have fought and none of this would have happened.
“Why?”
“You two seem off.”
You wanted out of the relationship for your own sake, yet you didn’t realize how much you were hurting until yesterday. The no escaping his touch or his gaze made your head dizzy because it took you months before you convinced yourself that you were fine without him, and now that Nico was gentle to you even in the mess he created that he so wanted to disappear from, your newfound façade was long gone.
“Nothing. Our schedules clashed often and we didn't have much time for ourselves.”
Part of it was true if you thought back to last year. With Nico constantly on road trips and his team not playing their best, and your job keeping you away from him, the only time you saw each other was during nighttime. And with both of you exhausted there wasn’t much to say without striking a nerve.
Katja leaned her hip on the counter, leaning slightly to try to read your expression, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept scrubbing the same plate over and over again.
You didn’t notice Nico lingering by the door until his mom placed a hand on your shoulder. You turned around in his direction as she walked past him with a good night under her breath, just as Nico came to stand in her previous spot.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to tell you that that plate is clean enough.”
You handed him the last plate with a sigh and as you waited for him to dry it, you couldn’t help but stare at his faint smile. Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached for his cheek, brushing at the small new scar there. His movements hesitated for a moment before turning to face you, your hand dropping slightly at the action. You almost missed the way his gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before looking back into your eyes.
Maybe it was the wine you both drank earlier or maybe it was meant to happen. Nico leaned down, cupping your face to kiss you. It was gentle, a bit hesitant, almost as if he was giving you space to pull away. But you didn’t, not even if your brain told you so.
He pulled away, lips still brushing yours and his eyes closed. You missed his lips on yours, so soft and tender just as you remembered and desperately wished to feel again.
“I’m sor—“
You didn’t let him finish as you put your lips back on his, hands making their way from his chest to wrap around his neck. You were desperate for more, fearing that the moment would end too soon, but Nico squeezed your hip a little to ground you. He wasn’t going anywhere.
His tongue brushed your lips and you let him in. A small moan escaped his mouth and you couldn’t help but feed into it. A faint taste of wine still lingered on his tongue, sweetness clouding your thoughts.
“Please tell me to stop”
“No, don’t stop.”
Both of his hands trailed their way around your body, eager to feel every curve of your body again. He needed to feel you, keep his hands on you to ground himself because he was scared this actually never happened and it was just a sick joke his mind was playing.
As the kiss grew more sloppy and hands roaming with no set purpose, Nico held you impossibly closer to him, his body heat burning against your skin. He held tightly onto your waist, murmuring a small jump against your lips as he hoisted you up the counter, legs instinctively wrapping around his lower back.
The overwhelming feeling of it all almost made you cry. It was tender, yet the way your lips moved set a different pace.
“Take me to bed, Nico.”
He gently pushed away strands of hair that had fallen in front of your eyes before his hand rested on your cheek. “We don’t have to, we can stop now and it’ll all be okay.”
“I need you to make love to me.” And Nico grabbed at your thighs, keeping you tight against his chest as he walked to his bedroom. You didn’t have to tell him twice, he just wanted to give you space in case this was too much.
He laid you gently on the bed and kissed you again, fervor replaced by love. He pecked your lips before pressing another kiss to your cheek.
“You’re so beautiful.” He said as one of his hands traveled up your hoodie, leaving a tingling trail where he had touched you, while the other one gave him support by your head.
You brought his lips back on yours, thumbs tracing every curve of his cheeks. Beard tickling your skin, his plush lower lip found its way between yours, and he allowed his mouth to smile against yours for the first time today. You were lost in the feeling of him, and so was him with yours, lips brushing as though this was the lifetime in which you were meant for each other.
What you once knew as love filled both of your hearts again. This wasn’t fair. His hands on you, his lips on you, you in his bed. It wasn’t fair because you broke his heart, just as you broke your own.
“Take my hoodie off.” You whispered and he obliged. Nico’s nose skimmed along your neck, delighting himself in the way your skin felt along the warmth of his own. And he allowed himself to slide down to trace the skin of your collarbone, then kissing along the ridges of your ribs and allowing himself to drown once more in you.
As his lips reached your hips, he looked up at you smiling so sweetly, a sort of reassurance painting your face. He slid your jeans off before he brought himself up to you, reveling in the feeling of your chest meeting his own with every heaving breath. The soft lace of your bra brushed his chest, catching the curves and edges of his skin.
It had been too long since you’d felt his touch —or anyone’s for that matter— so the touch of his hands against your skin was enough to fuel the pulsing ache between your legs.
You took his hand in yours, placing a kiss on the center of his palm before slowly guiding his hand down to your center. And Nico never stopped looking at you, not even when the feeling of the damp fabric as he slid a finger over your clothed slit made a groan escape his lips.
He left a trail of open-mouthed kisses on his way back to your thighs, discarding your bra in the process. You whined when he nipped his teeth against the sensitive skin of your thigh, and you whined again at the soft brush of his mustache on the same spot.
Gently pushing your panties aside, Nico stroked two fingers along your now-bare slit, heat rushing to his cheeks at the way your hips involuntarily rolled into him, chest heaving at his touch.
“Is this okay?” You nodded in response and he didn’t wait much before dipping into your core. With a gentle grip, he pushed your thighs apart, kissing your folds before licking a long stripe over them.
And Nico was in heaven as you squirmed under his touch, reveling in the feeling of your warm thighs caging his head as soft moans escaped your mouth. The scratch of his beard sent jolts down your spine and when he added a finger inside of you, you couldn’t help the buckle of your hips against his mouth.
Your hand busied through his hair, fingers tugging at his roots gently and the vibrations from his groans against your clit sent you overwhelming waves of pleasure. You sounded like an angel to his ears and Nico had to roll his hips onto the bed sheets to soothe himself just a little bit.
“Please give it to me, baby.” Nico murmured against your core as he added another finger.
And you dared to look down at him, so concentrated in getting a taste of you, gently and slowly because he missed this and his body yearned for a taste of you like a drug.
The feeling of his fingers curling inside of you in the right spots and his tongue applying pressure on your clit were enough for the air to leave your lungs. With a moan, slightly too loud, you came on his fingers and Nico held you against him to catch every single drop of your release.
“You taste so sweet, baby.”
Baby. You opened your eyes to see his cheeks red, your arousal coating his chin and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon through hazy eyes. It didn’t come as a surprise to you when a tear fell from your eyes, and soon you couldn’t stop them from running down your cheeks.
He kissed his way up to you with a sort of urgency to cradle your face in his hands. And the tears didn’t stop when he tried to kiss them away.
“I’m right here, you’re okay.”
“I love you. I’m sorry.”
It was the only thing you could say, really, unsure whether the apology was directed to yourself or him. But it didn’t really matter because he was here now, in your arms, sensitive and tender as ever.
“Nico”
“Mh?” His face mere inches away from yours, noses and lips brushing.
“Let me take care of you.”
Nico would have told you no, because he didn’t need your mouth to show him you still loved him, your words were more than enough to him. But your hands moved from his shoulders down to his chest, stopping right at his heart and he knew you could feel his heart racing up.
So he let you guide him on his back as you shifted on top of him, straddling his thighs before kissing your way down. You mouthed at the skin on his neck, focusing on sucking at the pulsing point connecting at his shoulder.
His abs clenched under the touch of your hands and a staggered breath left his lips when your face reached the band of his boxers. You kissed around his hips, delicate fingers tracing up and down his thighs as you teased his tip over his boxers with a kiss, causing it to jump under your touch. You noticed a small damp spot and you smiled, pulling down his boxers agonizingly slow. Eager as he has always been with you, you knew it took every ounce of control for him not to lose himself then.
You brought your hand to the base of his cock, his breath hitching as you pumped him slowly, and squeezing just slightly to milk precum out of his tip. You followed the vein from the base to his tip with your tongue as your thumb pressed over the leaking slit, hips jumping at your touch.
“Please don’t tease me.” He whined under his breath, watching as you brought your thumb to your lips. And how could you say no to that?
You parted your lips to suck at his tip, sinking down until you reached his base and Nico shivered underneath you at the contact with the back of your throat. Your mouth continued to work around him, and he whimpered as you flatten your tongue to take more of him into your mouth. And he was drowning in pleasure as you used one of your hands to wrap around what you couldn’t take in your mouth as the other gripped at his thigh.
You made eye contact with him when his right hand caressed through your hair and you moaned around him, a few strands of his hair sticking to his forehead and chest flushed. You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you knew he was close. He was in such a haze he almost missed that a few more strokes of your tongue would’ve made him come, and he didn’t want that. He wanted to relish in the feeling of your walls for that.
A soft stop left his lips just as his hand carefully pulled at your hair to get you off him. And the sight of you, lips parted and wet and subtly swollen, weren’t helping his cause.
He shifted his weight onto his elbow, other hand cradling your face to pull you in for a chaste kiss.
“Let me be yours.”
“You’ve always been.”
With his head on your shoulder, he gently pushed you down onto your back. Nico lifted himself to his knees, sliding his boxers down his legs and slipping out of them before hovering you again and removing your panties. His forehead came to rest against yours, eyes fluttering shut as he paused in his movements to take it all in. He had you again and he needed to make the most out of his time, fear looming in the back of his mind that you’d still leave tomorrow without a word.
Your hands cupped his jaw and you arched forward to capture his lips on yours. It was slow, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. Eagerly, he pressed into your touch, the soft weight of his chest pressing into yours comforting.
Your legs wrapped around his torso hoping to get some relief from your aching core. And Nico never stopped kissing you as he aligned himself with your entrance, teasing you with his length along your slit and causing you to buck, moans suppressed by his saccharine lips.
As he inched in, deeper into you, Nico savoured your warmth as if you were made just for him —and truthfully you were— movements deliberate and steady just like how he knew you liked.
He didn’t want to seem desperate but you were squeezing him tight, nails digging into his back and your arms wrapped tightly around him refusing to let him go. With the heels of your feet pressing into his lower back, he knew not to be ashamed for your desperation matched his.
His body curled over yours, nose poking at your jaw so he could bite at your throat as he keeps fucking into you. One hand came to cup the back of your neck bringing you impossibly closer, and the way he was whispering dirty little nothings, lips brushing the shell of your ear, brought you to the edge.
Nico’s set thrusts urged you ever closer to your peak as he rolled his hips into yours, movement heavy inside of you, his fingers dropping to draw circles on your sensitive clit as your labored murmuring for more fanned against his lips. And you were an angel with the way you took him, welcoming him in at the gates of heaven with your honeyed sounds.
You rushed forward, chasing his lips as your release surged through you, tightening around him with a sweet sigh and his tongue swept into your mouth as he drowned your moans. His own release followed right after, emptying inside of you. The sound of his satisfied groan blissful to your ears as he came to rest on top of you.
Heaved breathing, Nico’s head settled on your chest and you made to sweep his hair from his eyes to admire the sweat-sheen glow adorning his warm skin. Your hands worked at his shoulder, kneading the muscles there as you took every opportunity to feel his skin against yours.
Nico shifted on his side and brought you with him, taking a moment to press a kiss to his pec, his neck and his lips once again.
“Will you let me stay?”
“I don’t think you really need my answer to that.”
Nico slid his hands up your side, bringing your thigh over his hip. His large palm heavy as you shifted impossibly closer, one hand rubbing his scalp. And you kissed him without lust, simply reveling in the feel of his tongue dancing against yours, while he followed your lead wordlessly, squeezing so tenderly at your hip because this time he knows you will be there tomorrow. And any other day after.
#nico hischier x reader#nico hischier fic#nico hischier x you#nico hischier x y/n#nico hischier one shot#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot#bewaryofpity writes
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08:42 • ksy
pairing: non-idol!soonyoung x f!reader, established relationship
genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!, fluff
synopsis: morning sex (and kink discovery) with soonyoung
warnings: slight daddy kink, p in v, handjob, unprotected s*x, fingering, reader calls soonyoung an ‘asshole’ twice, soonyoung is very cheeky. dialogue heavy!
a/n: had lots of fun writing this! the idea was super random but i thought it worked well for my hoshibae
“i have to work,” you mange to pull yourself out of soonyoungs hold, but not out of his reach as a slap is delivered to your ass. you flip him off and pad over to his dresser, and dig through your designated drawer that he emptied out for you a few weeks ago.
“call out,” he quips, and this time you roll your eyes. you glance at him through the mirror, a lazy smirk on his face as he lies sprawled out in his bed. the sheets are draped over him haphazardly, strategically drawn over his hips but exposing the rest of his toned body. it’s tempting, soonyoung in bed, ready to have his way with you, but you really have to go to work.
“how will i eat? pay rent?” you ask, placing your folded clothes on top of his dresser and spinning around to face him.
“i’ll take care of you.”
you lift an eyebrow. “you’ll be my sugar daddy?” you’re teasing, but you don’t miss the way he shifts in the bed. soonyoung curls his arm behind his head, and you so badly want to grab your phone to take a picture of the sight before you.
“are you going to call me daddy?” his cheeks redden as he asks, and you smirk at him, leaning against the dresser.
“that depends; how much are you going to spend on me?” he smiles and sits up straighter in the bed, the sheets bunching up around his hips. your eyes scan the room and find his discarded underwear at the foot of the bed.
“as much as it takes for you to call me ‘daddy’,” he answers, a giddy smile on his face. you roll your eyes.
“i want some numbers.”
“name your price.”
you tilt your head. “i think ill go to work,” you say, shutting the dresser and spinning around to look at him. you open your mouth to make another comment, but it dies on your tongue when he raises his arms over his head to stretch, muscles in his arms and stomach tightening with the movement. he’s tempting, sitting in bed with nothing but a light sheet covering his hips. it’s enough to make you want to be a few minutes late to work.
soonyoung catches you staring, sees the resolve dying within you and smirks. “your loss,” he says, slipping out of bed, unsheathing his nude body with confidence that makes you instinctively lean against the dresser. he saunters into the bathroom, catching your eye in the mirror with a wink before disappearing around the corner to the toilet.
you can’t help but follow after him, stepping into the bathroom and avoiding looking at him even as he flushes the toilet and turns towards you, his entire body on full display. you reach into the shower and turn the dial, adjusting the temperature once the stream begins. you start undressing, casting a glance in the direction of the mirror to look at soonyoung, who’s eyes are already on you. you blush, and play it off by looking away from him and reaching behind you to unhook your bra. “you’re staring,” you comment, letting the garment drop to the floor before you step out of your underwear.
“you’re hot,” he says plainly, the way somebody would say that the sky is blue, or that 2+2 is four. you just snort and step into his shower, sliding through glass door shut.
when soonyoung doesn’t immediately slip inside after you, you pull it back open. “are you getting in?” he reappears in the bathroom with a grin on his face, and you back out of the way to let him in. soonyoung immediately crowds into you, arm snaking around your waist as he pulls you into a hot kiss. soonyoung slips his tongue into your mouth with ease, and you let him just as readily. his hips press into yours, and you arch away from his mouth when you feel his member against your thigh.
soonyoung chases after your lips with his own, whining when you gently push his face away from yours. “i actually need to shower,” you say, but you press your chest against his own and skate your nails up his biceps.
swinging you around, you shriek when soonyoung plants you directly in line of the stream of water. “you’re an ass,” you say as he squirts body wash into his palm and rubs them together before planting them on your backside.
“and yours is my favorite,” he says, a toothy smile adorning his lips. he rubs soap into your skin, gently kneading your flesh as he goes. soonyoung works his hands up your body, working the soap into your stomach and up between the valley of your breasts. you watch him with parted lips and low eyelids, wetness growing between your thighs each time he drags his palms across your body.
palming your breasts, soonyoung softly massages the flesh and you lick your lips. “don’t get cute,” you mutter, a quiet gasp leaving your lips when he gently pinches your nipples until they peak. you press your thighs together and soonyoung continues rubbing your breasts, his dick growing harder with each quiet sound you make, and as your chest gets sudsier.
“fuck, i could come just looking at you like this,” he says shamelessly, groping your chest greedily. his dick is hard and heavy, the tip bright red. you glance down and grab ahold of his dick, and begin pumping him. soonyoung grunts and his hips buck into you, one of his hands leaving your chest to brace himself against the shower wall. “shiiit.”
soonyoung hangs his head as you jerk him off, his chest rising and falling rapidly. he grunts and curses, your name spilling from his lips in a choked moan when you massage his balls with your other hand. “ch-chill,” he captures you lips in an open mouthed kiss, his breathing labored.
your breasts are forgotten about as you keep working him out, and you grow weaker and weaker with each whine you pull out of him. “e-e-enough,” soonyoung stammers, body curling into yours in an attempt to get away from you. his release is right in front of him, but if he’s going to finish its going to be because of you pussy, not your hand.
“you’re no fun,” you pout, adjusting the angle of the shower head to rinse the soap off of your chest. soonyoung keeps himself upright by leaning against the wall and watches as you rinse off his artwork with heavy eyes. “can you fuck me?” you ask him, voice sweet and innocent as if you didn’t just ask him that lewd question.
the corner of soonyoungs lip curls upwards. he grabs you by the hips and pulls you into another hot kiss, his hands sliding down to grab a handful of your ass. he turns you away from the water and backs you up into the far wall of the shower. soonyoung spreads your ass cheeks apart and slips his fingers towards your entrance. “call out,” he groans against your mouth when he feels how wet you are, biting your bottom between his teeth.
“you want to be called ‘daddy’ that bad?” you quip, shuddering when he slips two fingers into you. you clutch onto his shoulders and press against him. “d-didn’t know you were into that.” you let out a moan when he drags his fingers out of you and presses against your clit.
soonyoung skates his lips across your jaw and down your neck before sucking a hickey into your skin. “asshole,” he fucks his fingers into in the form of an apology. “i-im n-never call—fuck!” you lurch into him, raising up on your toes as he rubs quickly at your clit. your legs begin to shake and you dig your nails into his skin to get a better hold against him, your mouth near his ear mewling out his name.
“hmm?” he says, kissing the corner of your mouth. you can’t even work up the ability to call him an asshole for the third time, because pressure builds and builds in your stomach until it becomes too much, and you release all over his fingers. “that’s it, baby. that’s what i thought.”
“fuck you.”
“i’m trying.”
soonyoung spins you around and presses you against the wall before tugging you back by the hips and making you arch. you splay your palms flat against the the tile and suck in an anticipatory breath. “i love you, by the way,” he says, kissing your shoulder. you smile, cheeks tinging pink, snd glance at him over your shoulder.
“of course you do,” you reply, groaning when he drops his hand onto your ass with a smack. you push back against him, urging him to either stick it in or to do it again—the choice is up to him, and either are enough to get you off for a second time with how turned on you feel.
“say it,” soonyoung presses, teasing your entrance with the head of his dick. it’s a bit surprising to know that he’s into the whole ‘daddy’ thing. you don’t really have any opinions about it, besides that it feels a bit cheesy, but you’ll try anything once with him—but no before making it harder on him (no pun intended).
“it.”
he scoffs and teases your clit this time, your mouth dropping open. “say it,” he rubs his hand over your ass before slapping it again, this time a bit harder than the last. it stings in the best way, and you let it be known by moaning out a breathy “fuck”. soonyoung draws his bottom lip in between his teeth, ready to give in and just fuck you so you don’t get fired, but he really wants to hear you say it just once. “if you’re really turned off by it, i’ll drop it. but if not, then i won’t fuck you until you say it.”
you don’t want to lie to him just so he can fuck you, but you really can’t bring yourself to say it and mean it. soonyoung is your baby, your lover, your person, but daddy? you don’t even know how to take that seriously. “daddy, fuck me,” you try, ready to burst out into laughter the moment it leaves your lips.
it makes his cock twitch despite your flat tone. “say it like you mean it.”
“what does that even mean?” you bark, looking over your shoulder at him. when you see the look on his face, the way he holds his cock that’s leaking with precum in one hand, you sigh and turn back around. you push your hips back and make your voice as whiny as possible. “daddy, i need you.”
you don’t know why that does it for him, but he sinks himself deep inside of you in one smooth go. you whisper out his name as he stretches you out, your entire body feeling like he’s splitting you open. “s-soonie,” you whimper as he pulls out and slams back into you, knocking the breath out of your lungs.
“fuck, you are so tight,” soonyoung groans, putting hand on the back of your neck to have full control of you. you cunt squeezes around him like you’re trying to suck him in deeper and simultaneously keep him out. he keeps on bullying his way into your cunt, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to leave marks. “i’d take care of you even if you had two jobs.” he pants. you want to laugh, but when you open your mouth you only cry out his name.
soonyoung let’s go of your neck to grab onto your inner thigh, and lifts of your leg to fuck into you at different angle. “right there!” you cry out, chest arching into the cold tile.
“i love you so much,” he whines, eyebrows knitting together as he stares down at where you two connect. the tip of his dick presses into that spongy part inside of you and has you squeezing your eyes shut. “quit your job and let me fuck you all day.” he cries out, biting down on his bottom lip as his resolve begins to shatter with each thrust.
“fuck your job,” he rambles on, hips rutting into you quickly, his previous rhythm lost. you can only moan out a string of curses, legs starting to feel like jello. you definitely will be limping later, if the hickey wasn’t already enough embarrassment. “fuuuuck, i’m close.” soonyoung whimpers.
soonyoung let’s go of your legs and supports you by firmly holding onto both of your hips. he yanks you back onto his cock, moans echoing off the shower walls as you cunt spasms around him, your release mere moments away. “shitshitshit,” you cry, gasping when he pulls your back flush against his chest and holds you by the throat, his grip firm but loose so you can breathe. “ah!” he wraps his arm around your middle and prods at your clit with his middle finger. he rubs your sensitive nub until you’re coming undone on top of him, your cunt clamping down on him and making it nearly impossible for him to move underneath you.
ropes of his come shoot inside of you moments later, his hips stilling and a whine of your name leaving his lips as he reaches his climax. he pulls the two of you back under the stream of water, removing the hand that’s on your throat to make the water cooler. your eyes fly open when the water hits you, and you untangle yourself from soonyoung, frowning when he’s no longer inside of you. “fuck, i am so late,” you complain, but you spin around and pull him down into a long kiss.
“thank you,” he breathes once you pull apart, wiping water out of his eyes. “for, you know.”
“as long as you’re happy.”
“well, i realized it’s not really my thing. you’re just hot.”
you smile at him and give him another quick peck. “good, because you were moaning like a little bitch in my ear.”
#hoshi smut#hoshi x you#hoshi x reader#soonyoung x reader#soonyoung smut#soonyoung x you#svt smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen smut#hoshi imagines#soonyoung fluff#svt fluff#svt imagines
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hello! I hope you write for Neuvillette! For the event, could I ask for fitting him with a collar and presenting him as a trophy? Thank you sm! <3
also please don’t stress yourself nini! Drink water, get proper rest, and make sure to take breaks! 🫶
(P.S, can I be 🍡 anon? If not that’s okay! ^v^)
Heee! Welcome 🍡 anon! Ofc our neuvi is okay :] and I looove the trophy prompt for some reason
Dom!reader x sub!neuvi - reader is gn
Warning: public humiliation, hair pulling, objectification, collaring
Anniversary event
A celebration in name of the new ruler of fontain has been organised. For the people to acknowledge him, to respect and worship him, and for him to come out as the one on top. It was a very important event, one that could be compared to the coronation of a new king. That’s why there’s a ball at the break of dawn, to showcase the authority of the chef justice - at least, that’s what was meant to happen.
The moment he entered the gigantic room - filled with people in fancy clothing chatting to their hearts content - every whisper disappeared, complete silence broke out under the sheer anticipation of meeting him. Many of them even held their breath, focusing on the only thing breaking the silence, the sound of footsteps. All eyes were on him, and on you, his escort. The music even stopped as the musicians couldn’t help but gawk. Though soon the smiles changed into shocked gasps, before quiet mumbling filled the atmosphere of the halls again.
You walked in front of Neuvillette, confidently, a big pleasant smile on your face. You had to show the world your chocolate side after all. Neuvi followed close behind, eyes as sharp as ever, not paying much attention to anyone other than you. His cold demeanour wasn’t anything new, but- he was wearing a collar.
Some were frowning at the sight, while others were still in pure disbelief. Your smile didn’t falter at their reaction, in contrary, you turned around and gestured with your hand for him to come closer. And so he did, obeying your command all obediently. Then you yanked on the very collar all the other guests were staring at, making him bend a little before you whispered, “they are all staring at you, feeling exited yet?”
Your little hydro dragon didn’t answer, he didn’t show much of a reaction other than the rosy blush that has begun tainting his cheeks. You sneered, a satisfied and proud look as you let go of him. A waiter came moments later, carrying a tray full with glasses of champagne. You took a glass out of curtesy, and sipped on it, then handed it to your sweet boytoy. He took it without questioning it.
It didn’t take long until the shock of the people died down, and the bolder ones dared to get closer, in hopes of building a relationship with the new ruler of fontain. A man approached you, trying to strike a conversation, “what a grandiose ball this is, fontain will be thriving in the future, all thanks to the chief justice.” The man in front of you said, smiling, a calculated expression. You recognised him, he was one of the rather big merchants.
“Indeed, I would expect no less from my most priced possession.” You chuckled as you cupped Neuvillette’s face with one hand, not breaking eye contact with the merchant. “You are proud to belong to me, ain’t I right, neuvi?” He didn’t answer you with words, instead, he nuzzled his face into your palm, finding comfort in the heat radiating through your glove. The merchant laughed uncomfortable, his facade failing him as he tried to not stare.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, you grabbed him by his hair and made him kneel down. He didn’t resist one bit, allowing you to manhandle him, shuddering at this humiliating act. “Neuvillette. When I ask you a question, what must you do?” Your voice became rougher, more demanding, and he gazed up at you from his sitting position. “…use my voice. Forgive me, I’ll do better next time.” The male said, almost whining, the blush darkened and he clenched the glass in his hands.
At this point, needless to say you were the center of attention. You, who can treat their new ‘archon’ like an object.
How scandalous it was… seeing him acting this shameless in public. The whispers only got louder, yet the two of you didn’t seem to care. As if both of you were in your own world. “Good boy.” Your gaze softened, now cupping his face with one hand, the other one caressing the dark blue collar around him. A prideful yet scary grin as you made a statement, “There’s a reason you are my prettiest trophy.”
#sub character#sub!character#dom reader#dom!reader#sub genshin impact#sub genshin#sub neuvillette#neuvillette#neuvilette genshin#neuvillete x reader#neuvilette smut#neuvillette genshin#neuvillette gi#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x you#neuvillette x y/n#neuvillete smut#anniversary event#🍡 anon
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Bear! Price in his mating season
Warning: minors do not interact
Tags: bear shifter, p in v, knotting, breeding, hurt, comfort
Word count: 720
When there’s not much to do in the morning, you usually go on the morning walk with John. Sometimes he’ll agree to let you sit on his back and go out to the woods in his bear form. You always enjoy those days, to be able to breathe in the fresh air and see the leaves and flowers covered by the morning dew, hearing the early birds’ singing fill the area. But today you didn’t seem to pay any attention to those.
You’ve been trying your best to ignore how your cunt keeps leaking, and how his back muscle brushes through your clit lightly when he moves, making you clench on nothing. Only 15 minutes in the woods and you already want to push him down right here and ride his thick fat cock. And John knew, his nose told him all what he needed to know and he decided today’s the perfect day to breed your fertile womb. Now when you’re so ready for his seeds, actively grinding on his back, he can barely control himself.
“Get down”
His voice so stern it scares you for a sec, you climb down, cupping his face in your hands. “Is there something wrong, love?” you asked, looking down at him. But he only takes a step back and returns to his human form, eyes hungry like he wants to eat you alive, cause he’s about to, with his fully erect cock and tip already leaking out. He breathes in your sweet arousal scent while approaching you. Before you know it, your back is pressed to a tree trunk, thighs squeezing together to ease the throbbing, only for him to scoops you up, legs wrap around his thick abdomen, his cock pressed against your needy cunt, making it oozes more nectar.
“Why are you acting so shy now, love? You didn’t seem shy rubbing your sweet scent on my back just a few minutes ago”
You hide your reddish face on his neck, taking in his musky scent. “I didn’t mean to. You were moving…weird and I’m ovulating today so I..”. John bites down on your neck, making you yelp and cut out your words: “It’s fine, darling. I understand. I’ll make you feel better now”.
Immediately, he guides his cock into your warm pussy and fills you up to the brim. His mouth sucking and nibbling on your neck then moves down to suck on your sensitive bud while his hand caresses the other. The forest seems to quiet down, and John only hears the sound of you whimpering his name. When you reach down to rub your clit, his hand which was playing with your buds now pushes your hand out to flick your pearl. You cry out, the velvety wall squeezes like it wants to milk him right then and there, the fire in your lower abdomen finally burns you whole when John thrusts up to your cervix wall.
Too drunk on your pussy, he couldn’t resist the urge to put his seeds into you and make you the mother of his cubs, his bear form slips and accidentally knots your bodies together. He grunts, feeling how stretched your cunt now is, and how your nails dig deep into his arms. Then the tears in your eyes pull him back to reality. You haven’t taken his knot before, gosh it must be hurt, it hurts him too seeing tears keep pouring down your chin. He lies down carefully so his knot doesn’t hurt you more, letting you rest on his chest. “You alright, love? I’m sorry, darlin’. I wasn’t thinking clearly” he strokes your wet cheek “Does it hurt too much?”
You sniff “It’s better now. It’s fine, keep going baby”. He doesn’t reply, instead he just wipes your tears away, watching your expression until you seem relaxed, then he slides his hand down to play with your swollen clit until you grind on his knot and beg for him to move. John pulls you down to kiss your face lovingly, his thrust slower and gentler than ever, pulling another orgasm out of you before releasing inside your abused cunt.
Maybe this is another reason you enjoy your morning walk.
Note: he looks so cute I want to suck his c
#who said that??#captain price#john price#captain john price#bear price#john price x reader#john price cod
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'Honey, Are You Coming?' (Baby Said, Part 2) — Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader
divider is from @plutism
a/n: hello! i'm soooo so sorry for taking too long in doing the second part of baby said, college and work are driving me insane and i barely have time to write. i really hope you like this
Summary: After that mindblowing night after the bar, you find yourself waiting for Aemond's call, growing slightly disappointed.
Words: 4691
Warnings: +18 (minors dni), female reader, no use y/n nor specific physical description, swearing, dirty talk, hand kink, praising, tiddy sucking, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slightly dominant aemond, riding, no proof reading! english is not my first language, i apologise in advance if there are any mistakes.
It’s been five days and you haven’t heard anything from Aemond. Not a call, not even a text message. Nothing. You started to feel a little bit anxious and somewhat offended. Perhaps he didn’t like you that much, or worse, he had a girlfriend and still had sex with you. You shake your head, trying to get rid of those thoughts, focusing on the task at hand.
A year before your graduation, you got a job in a small publishing house, working as an editor. You didn’t earn a fortune, but it was more than enough to make ends meet and pay rent. Still, you were trying to find a job in a bigger place, freelancing didn’t appeal to you and you were actually looking for a new flat, closer to the capital, which meant higher prices.
“For fuck’s sake,” you hear Arianne curse next to you, making you startle. With a frown, you lift your head to look at her. “You have been eyeing your phone for the last fifteen minutes, it’s quite annoying,” she says, half serious, half joking. The brunette tilts her head and places a hand on her hip. “He hasn’t called you yet, has he?”
You shake your head, pursing your lips. “I don’t know why it affects me so much… it was just a one night stand” you explain, running a hand through your hair and sighing.
“Perhaps he’s busy…” your friend tries to reason with you, seeing how defeated you looked. She gets on her knees and grabs your hands. “Hey, I don’t want you to feel like rubbish, you shouldn’t feel like this, even if he was a mindblowing fuck.” She says, quoting the words you said when you told her about that night, giving her all the nasty details over a cup of wine during dinner. “Have you checked his socials?” She asks, to which you nod.
“Yep. Private account on Instagram, no Twitter. Didn’t even bother to check Facebook, no one uses it nowadays” you move your hand in the air. “And before you ask, no, I didn’t ask a following request.”
“What’s stopping you?” She asks with a frown and clicks her tongue in annoyance when you shrug. “I swear to God…” she mutters under her breath before plopping down on her chair, opening an incognito tab in her browser, as if what she was doing was illegal.
You frown and move your chair next to hers. “What are you doing?” You watch as she types his name on the search bar. You read the first few results with narrowed eyes. They scan the many search results populating the screen, but they focus on one particular title. Meet the Targaryens: The Powerhouse Family Behind ‘Valyrian Press’
Oh God. “Click that one…” you point at the title and Arianne immediately clicks. The webpage loads quickly and a big picture pops up on the screen. Your eyes fall to Aemond’s figure in the family picture. He was looking into the camera, a serious expression on his face, his hands into the pockets of his black suit. He wore all black.
Arianne turns to look at you. “You didn’t tell me this snack was the son of Viserys Targaryen…”
“I didn’t know!” You whisper-shout, shrugging. “I had no idea he was the son of Viserys Targaryen, though the surname did ring a bell.” Just when she opens her mouth to speak, you interrupt her, lifting your index finger in the air. “Hey, it wasn’t a date, it was a fuck, okay? We didn’t just sit down to talk about our families” you explain, defending yourself. She lifts her hands in surrender.
“Didn’t say anything at all.” Your friend turns again and skims the article. “Well, my dear friend, you had sex with a single billionaire, son of the owner of one of the most important publishing houses in the country. If you don’t send that Instagram request, I will do it.” Just when she finishes saying that, your phone vibrates. Your head jerks and you extend your hand to grab it, your eyes widening when you see the notification. Arianne frowns. “Is it him?”
You nod, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Arianne gasps and chuckles as you open the text message.
Hi. I apologise for not writing sooner. May I call you?
You fight the urge of jumping up and down and screaming of happiness, and instead you take a deep breath to calm down the butterflies in your stomach and type an answer, your hands shaking in excitement.
Hi there :) Sure, you can call me.
Just a minute after you sent that message, your phone vibrates once more, and you take the call, eager to listen to his voice. “Hi?”
“Hello, gorgeous.” Gorgeous. You hear him hiss. “I’m so, so sorry for not calling you back. I have been quite busy these days, travelling and accompanying my father to so many meetings…” you can picture him moving his hands around, explaining things to you. “I meant to call you right after that night, but work got in the way. I hope you accept my apologies…”
You smile against the phone. “Don’t worry, Aemond. It’s okay, I suspected you were busy,” you reply, biting your lower lip to try to stop a laugh, seeing Arianne making faces at your words and mouthing ‘I told you’.
“Anyways, I’m in the city right now… are you at work?” He asks after a soft sigh and you find yourself twirling a strand of your hair like a high school girl. How pathetic, you think.
“Yes, but I finish my shift at 5pm. We can grab a coffee or a sandwich, if you want…” you suggest.
“Of course, darling. Give me your address, I can pick you up and we can go to Honeyholt Bakery, they sell delicious lemon cakes.” You beam, lemon cakes were your favourites, but you never told him that. You give him your job’s address before saying goodbye and hanging up.
You plop down on your chair, a dreamy look in your face as you look at the ceiling. You feel Arianne’s gaze on you, and you look down at her. She slowly shakes her head, a smirk making its way on her face. “I sooo envy you, lucky bitch” she jokes, making you giggle.
Knowing that you were hours away from meeting Aemond was all the motivation you needed to get down to work quickly, going over the document you had to edit before sending it to the executive editor. You finish a bit earlier than expected and grab your jacket and purse, kiss Arianne’s head and head towards the exit to wait for Aemond. You leave him a message letting him know you were ready, and not even a minute later you receive his reply. On my way ;)
Less than ten minutes later, you see a black BMW with tinted windows steering around the corner, slowing down and parking right in front of the doors of the building. The driver’s windows roll down and you see Aemond, with his hair combed back and wearing sunglasses. Fuck me.
He smiles at you and you smile back. “Hello, darling.” His voice is smooth and it makes you swallow hard. He steps out of the car, not before shifting the gear level into park mode and pulling the lever so that the car stays right in place.
“Hi, Aemond” you reply, your eyes sweeping over his lean figure clad in some brown polished shoes, black trousers, black shirt and black leather jacket. A lot of black. He looks delicious. He leans in to kiss your cheek, his expensive cologne filling your nostrils.
He places a hand on your lower back and indicates you to get into his car, opening the door for you, which you thank. He closes the door and walks around his vehicle to get inside, and you take a moment to look around, noticing how clean it smells. There’s music playing, the electric guitars and drums echoing in the small space. When Aemond gets inside and closes the door, he turns the volume of the radio down, but the music is still audible. You can recognize the song very clearly.
Meet me there where it never closes
Meet me there, I'll give you your roses
All is fair in love, oh-oh-oh
Honey, are you coming?
He takes his glasses off and begins driving the car at a normal speed as he talks. “How have you been, gorgeous?”
“I’ve been great… I have a lot more work now, but it’s so fulfilling,” you reply, your gaze falling to his hand on the steering wheel. He looks so confident as he drives, and you suddenly feel your cheeks getting hot, so you move your gaze to the window, watching the shops as you pass by.
Aemond smirks and glances at you. “I’m happy for you. The most important thing is enjoying and loving what you do” you hum at his answer, showing your agreement. “You work at a publishing house, right?”
“Yeah, I work as an editor, have been doing it for a year now” he raises his brows and nods.
“So I take it that you’re comfortable in that place…” his eyes are fixed on the road, concentrated on driving.
You purse your lips to the side, humming. “I’m actually looking for other publishing houses. I’m thinking about moving closer to the capital, and the rent is obviously higher in those areas, so I need a better wage.”
Aemond nods, taking in your words. “Well, my father has a publishing house. Valyrian Press, you might have heard of it.” Your eyes widen in surprise —fake, of course,— at his words. “There are some vacancies, and the pay is really good.”
“Your dad owns Valyrian Press?” He hums. “Oh, that’s why your surname rang a bell…” What a big fat lie.
Aemond huffs a laugh. “You’re telling me that you didn’t google my name?” How the fuck does he know things?
“Not me, my friend did.” He chuckles. “It never crossed my mind to google anything… but perhaps I did look up your social media…” you trail off.
Aemond chuckles again, the sound making your heart flutter. “Well, I barely use social media, I have an Instagram account but I’m not very fond of those apps…” You look at him and shake your head, letting out a soft chuckle. He parks the car outside the café. “What do y’wanna eat, darling?”
You. “Uhm, a cappuccino and some lemon cakes would be fine.”
He winks at you and smirks. “Excellent choice. I’ll be back soon” and with that, he exits the car. You watch him as he walks towards the bakery, biting your lip at the sight. You rest your head against the back of the seat, sighing and thinking about that man you barely know. You don’t know why, but you feel so drawn to him and you want to kick yourself because you’ve never felt like this for anyone. Not even your ex, for God’s sake.
You see Aemond getting out of the shop with two cups in one hand and a small white box with a yellow bow on top on the other hand. You stretch to get the door open, making it easier for him to get into the car.
“Thank you, beautiful” he offers you a smile and you sit comfortably in your position. He hands you the coffees and sets the box in the middle of your seats before closing the door and starting the car. “Where would you like to go?” He asks you, grabbing his cup and taking a sip from it.
“Wherever you want, Aemond… is there any specific place you wanna go?” You ask as you look at him, your eyes momentarily drifting to his hand on the steering wheel, the other one wrapped around the cup. Fuck, how is it that his hands were enough to make you go wild, the mere though of having them roaming over your body, pushing your legs apart, grabbing your hips, squeezing your tits, choking you… and his fingers, God, his long fingers.
“Hey!” He calls you, startling you. His glances at you once again, smirking when he sees you blinking and wide-eyed. “I asked you a question…”
You blink a few times more, frowning. “Uhm, sorry… what?” Your voice comes out meekly as you try to gather your thoughts. He stops at the red light.
“I asked you if you wanted me to take you to your apartment…” when you don’t answer, he huffs a laugh. “Cat got your tongue, hm?” He murmurs in a husky voice. He places his cup on the cup holder and extends his arm, his left hand coming up to your face to cup your cheek. “You like my hands, don’t you?” Aemond looks at you, giving you a smug smile when you mutter something inaudible. “You think I didn’t notice how you were staring at my hands, love?” You swallow hard as his thumb grazes your lower lip and you take the opportunity to open your mouth slightly, the tip of your tongue licking his digit before sucking it, the sensation going straight to his cock.
You hear him curse under his breath, his chest heaving. He sees the light going from red, to yellow, to green out of the corner of his eye and, reluctantly, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, fearing that if you did that again, he might lose control of the vehicle. Before he retreats his hand you take it and guide it inside your jeans, letting him feel you.
“Fuck, you’re soaked” he mutters as he feels your wet folds, his other hand gripping the wheel tightly, his knuckles going white. You keep him there, pressing his hand against your cunt to get some relief. “Holy shit, babygirl, wait…” he retreats his fingers from your cunt and you whine. “Shh, relax…” he shushes you, his fingers quickly undoing the button of your jeans and pulling down the zipper to get more space.
He hisses when he gets his hand inside your lace panties again, his middle finger trailing up your entrance, gathering some of your essence to rub your clit with his digit. “Oh, fuck” you curse, throwing your head back and closing your eyes as the pad of his finger rubs lazy circles over your bud.
“God, love, you’re really wet… thinking about my hands turns you on, huh?” He taunts you, a low growl rumbling in his throat when he feels your cunt sucking his finger in. Aemond slides his finger inside you and you mewl as he starts pumping it. He continues driving, his gaze focused on the road ahead, his mind racing. “Want another finger, baby?”
“Hmm… ngh… yes, Aemond- oh!” You squeak when he inserts his index finger. You grip the grab handle above the window, trying to hold onto something as his fingers continue his work. “Fuck, right there” you moan when his fingers curl up, hitting your sweet spot with ease.
Aemond hums, curling them again and increasing the pace of his fingers. You were thankful the windows were tinted, otherwise passers-by would see what you were doing inside that car. Aemond’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he feels your cunt tightening around his fingers, you are so close to cumming so he slows down the movements.
“N-no, Aemond, don’t stop, I’m so close…” you complain in a whine, and he groans lowly.
“Baby, I’m so fucking hard right now and if you continue making those beautiful sounds I might cum in my pants and crash this vehicle. I need you to tell me where you wanna go, I can’t focus on the road if I have you squeezing my fingers like that…” he explains, panting a little bit.
“Pull over… drive to a parking lot, I don’t know…” you plead, bucking your hips slightly. You don’t know how long you can last, not when the heel of his palm is pressing against your clit, eliciting whimpers from you.
Aemond drives towards the nearest parking lot he finds, his fingers moving inside you again at a relentless pace, making you gasp. “Fuck, baby, I can feel you getting closer, you’re squeezing my fingers so tightly…” He says through gritted teeth, smirking when you let out a high-pitched moan the moment his fingers reach that rough patch inside you, making you jolt. “C’mon, pretty girl. Cum all over my fingers, wanna feel you…” he coaxes.
He grunts when you press your legs together as you come, head thrown back and jaw open, incoherent words and moans spilling past your lips. His fingers continue working inside you, helping you ride out your orgasm. He pulls them out, and you nearly choke as you watch him, through half-lidded eyes, how he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean and moaning at the taste.
“You taste incredibly sweet, baby. You have no idea how much I need to put my cock inside you” you moan in response, head spinning at his words. He enters the parking lot and rushes to find a spot, parking the car immediately. “Come to the back” he orders, and he peeks around to check that no one sees you in the almost empty place.
Both of you get to the back of the car, almost throwing yourself at him. His lips capture yours in an intense kiss, his hand cupping your neck to pull you closer and angle your head to deepen it while the other rests on your waist. The tip of his tongue presses slightly against your lower lip and you gladly part your lips, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth. You can taste the strong coffee in his mouth.
Your hands trail down his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken under your palms. Aemond growls into your mouth when one of your hands cup his evident bulge, palming him through the fabric. “Holy… shit…” he mutters against your lips. You take the opportunity to leave open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, his neck, all the way to his earlobe.
“Want to suck your cock, Aemond…” you purr in his ear before taking his earlobe between your teeth, nibbling softly as you lower the zipper of his jeans, slithering your hand under his boxers.
“F-fuck…” he curses through gritted teeth, closing his eyes for a moment as you pull down his jeans and boxers in one motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock straining against his stomach and you move in your place, bringing your legs up to kneel next to him, your ass propped up in direction to the window. Your index finger grates the weeping tip, making him shudder. “Don’t tease… put your mouth to work, needy girl” he instructs, his hand landing on your ass with a loud smack, making you yelp.
You swallow hard and lick your lips as you lean forward, your right hand wrapping around his base. Like a lollipop, your tongue licks his cock from the base to the tip, eliciting a hiss from him. The hand that smacked your ass comes to rest on the small of your back, hiking up your blouse and rubbing circles on your skin.
Your lips wrap around his tip, sucking it gently and swirling your tongue around it. “God… yes, like that…” he breathes out, his voice rough. You stroke his shaft with your hand in rhythm with the movements of your mouth, up and down his length. Your hair falls to the side but Aemond is quick to grab it, putting it in a ponytail as your head bobs up and down. He resists the urge to buck his hips up, trying not to hurt you.
You stop stroking him and move your hand to cup his balls, which ignites something primal in Aemond. He can’t help but thrust his hips upwards into your mouth, making you moan. “Fucking hell, you’re taking me so deep into that wet mouth… love it” he coos, biting his lip at the sight of your mouth around him and your head bobbing up and down. His cock is covered in your saliva, glistening under the dim lights of the parking lot.
You hollow your cheeks as you go up, your hands wrapping around his base again, adding a bit of pressure. That makes him growl and pant, the sounds he makes going straight to your cunt. He continues praising you in choked, needy moans, telling you how good your mouth feels on his cock, how he’s going to wreck your pussy immediately afterwards, his hand guiding your head up and down his length. You feel him twitch in your mouth, the signal that he’s close to cumming.
“Are you coming, Aemond?” You ask, your hot breath fanning against his length before taking him deep into your mouth, gagging around him.
“Y-yes… s-stop… I’m so close…” he warns, the obscene wet sucking sounds that fill the car making him let out a strangled moan. He pulls you away from his length, a trail of saliva still connecting your mouth to him. You use the palm of your hand to wipe your mouth, licking your lips and looking at him.
“Why did you want me to stop?” Your hand presses on his inner thigh, making him sigh deeply and let go of your hair.
“Because when I cum, I want to do it deep inside your cunt, alright?” He explains as he leans his back against the seat, his words making your jaw drop. “Now, get rid of those jeans and ride me.”
You eagerly do as told, putting your legs down and shimming out of your jeans and soaked panties. You toss them aside and straddle him, your bent knees on either side of his hips, your chest pressing against his given the constricted space you are in. His hands immediately land on either side of your hips, guiding you to sink down on his cock.
Both of you moan at the contact, your eyes close as he lets you adjust to his size. When you open your eyes you find his hungry gaze on you, his pupils dark with lust. He licks his lips, bringing one hand to cup your neck and pull you down to kiss him. The kiss is slow but passionate, sensual. You find support on his shoulders and you start moving your hips, finding the right rhythm.
Aemond pulls back to breath, his lips hovering over yours as you rest your forehead against his. His fingers grip your hips tightly, certainly leaving marks. “Hmm…” he hums, feeling how your cunt sucks him in, engulfing him. “D’you feel me deep inside you, baby?” He murmurs against your lips.
“Y-yes… you’re so deep, Aemond,” you reply in a shaky whisper. You feel his breath against your face due to the close proximity, hearing the low grunts and whines that leave his lips. His hands move from your hips to your abdomen, lifting your blouse to feel your skin, his touch setting your body on fire.
“No bra?” His eyes widen in surprise and he smirks. “Naughty girl, I might have to punish you…” He taunts as he pulls the straps of your blouse down, freeing your breasts. He mutters a curse and dives into your chest, his hands bringing your tits together, squeezing as his tongue swirls around your right nipple, making you arch your back against him. “You fit perfectly in my hands, baby…” he squeezes your tits once more, making you throw your head back. Aemond leans forward and leaves wet kisses on your throat, sucking the junction between your neck and shoulder as his big hands knead your tits.
Your nails dig into his shoulders as you increase the speed of your movements, letting out desperate whines as the tip of his cock bullies the rough patch inside you. You’ve never been this wet before, the squelching sounds making you blush furiously in embarrassment. “Fuck, you’re so wet… can’t wait for when you soak my cock as you come” those dirty words he mutters against your ear have you gasping loudly and furrowing your brows. Aemond rests his forehead against your shoulder, the sounds escaping his lips coming out muffled.
“Aemond… I’m… fuck, I’m so close…” you speak in a choked moan, your arms wrapping around his neck as you bounce on his dick.
You feel him smirk against your skin, his teeth nibbling your collarbone. “Yeah, I can feel that… you’re so tight, love, you feel so fucking good” he praises, his voice hoarse and deep. Aemond lifts his head from your shoulder, looking up at you, his eyes roaming over your face. “Look at me” he demands in an authoritative, stern voice. You do as told, locking your eyes with his. “Do not tear your gaze away from me, you understand?” You nod frantically, your brows knitted together in pleasure.
His hands lower to your backside, gripping your ass tightly, helping you as you move on top of him. He brings his legs together, plants his feet on the floor and starts bucking his hips up, meeting your movements. Your eyes close shut involuntarily, wanton and sinful moans spilling past your lips as he pounds into you. “I said, fucking look at me” he says through gritten teeth, and you obey, as hard as it is to do so.
His eyes roam over your face, committing every detail to memory. “Y’gonna cum all over my cock, hmm? Can feel you squeezing me.” You nod, unable to speak. His hands grip your ass tighter, his nails digging into your skin. “Come, baby… let go and soak me, c’mon,” he gives your ass a loud smack, and that does it to you. His mouth is agape as he watches you come undone above him, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and lips parted as you gasp for air. “That’s it, baby… I got you.”
You feel blood rushing through your ears, your eyes flutter close and your legs tremble. You feel Aemond’s hard grip on your ass as he keeps pounding into you, chasing his own release. “Fuck! Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna…” his hips stutter and his arms wrap around your waist tightly as he cums deep inside your cunt, a guttural groan coming out of his lips, the sound muffled as he hides his head in your shoulder.
Both of you stay there, panting and holding each other as you come down from your intense orgasms. You feel like you’re walking on a cloud, feeling boneless. Once you finally catch your breaths, he lifts his head to place a kiss on your lips. He pulls back and huffs a laugh.
“Shit… are you okay?” He asks, placing soft kisses along your collarbone, bringing you back to earth. You struggle to find the words, but eventually open your mouth to speak.
“Yes… I feel amazing…” he chuckles at your answer, your voice coming out croaky.
“I’m glad. Did I fuck your brains out?” He smirks when you nod, and places another kiss on your lips as his hands rub soothing circles on your back. He rests his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes. You untangle your arms from around his neck and place your hands on either side of his face, admiring his features. “I was serious, you know. About the vacancies,” he explains to you. “I can ask my father to arrange a job interview. I’m dead serious, darling.”
You chuckle, the sound of your soft laugh making him smile. You tilt your head. “Hmm… I think you’re just trying to get into my pants…” you tease, to which he chuckles.
“But I already did. Twice” he replies in a low voice, making you giggle. “Oh, and one more thing.” He adds, looking at you, his playful expression turning into a soft one. “Would you go on a date with me?”
Your lips curve into a smile. “Yes. I would love to.”
taglist: @melsunshine @tsujifreya @fan-goddess
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen one shot#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen x you#moder aemond targaryen#modern aemond targaryen smut#hotd#hotd smut#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell fic#mydemimondewrites
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Belonging- John Price NSFW
Kinktober Day 16 Based on a request: I have a suggestion. It’s about price getting super possessive over his wife after his wife comes home, telling him that some guy was staring at her at work. And could you make it smut ---- F!reader, MDNI, 18+, smut, established!relationship, unprotected!sex, P-in-V, husband!Price, wife!reader, oral!sex ---- A/N: I want to apologise for not writing this earlier, so so so sorry lovie
John was sitting in the living room, enjoying a cigar and a glass of whiskey after a long day. The sound of the front door opening caught his attention, and he looked up to see you, his wife walking in.
He smiled at you, his light blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "Welcome home, love. How was your day?"
But as he took in your expression, he noticed something was off. Your brows were furrowed and your lips pressed into a thin line. He set down his drink and stood up, walking over to you.
"What's wrong, princess? You look troubled," he asked, his brow creasing with concern. He reached out to gently cup your sweet face, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.
You sighed and leaned into his touch. "There was this guy at work… he kept staring at me. It made me uncomfortable, John."
At the mention of another man looking at his wife, Price felt a flash of jealousy ignite in his gut. His jaw clenched and his hands curled into fists at his sides. The thought of someone else's eyes roving over what belonged to him made his blood boil.
"Is that so?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. He pulled you flush against his chest, one hand splaying possessively over the small of your back while the other tangled in your hair. "And what exactly was this bloke looking at, hmm?"
He nipped at your earlobe, his hot breath ghosting over her skin. "Because if he was eyeing up my wife's tits or ass, I might just have to pay him a visit and teach him some manners���"
His hand slid lower, groping your rear as he ground his hardening cock against your hip. "No one looks at what's mine and gets away with it. I'll make sure he knows you're taken. That this body belongs to me."
He captured your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering and claiming.
Price deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you. He walked you backwards until your back hit the wall, never breaking the passionate liplock. His hands roamed your curves, squeezing and kneading.
He nibbled and sucked at your bottom lip before trailing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat. He licked and bit at the sensitive skin, marking you as his.
"Who does this body belong to, love?" he growled against your pulse point, his voice rough with desire. One hand slid under your shirt to palm your breast, thumbing the stiffening peak. "Say my name."
You gasped and arched into his touch, your fingers clutching at his shoulders. The sound went straight to his cock, making it twitch and strain against his trousers.
"You," you say in a moan, your cheeks flushed and eyes dark with need. "I'm yours, John. All yours."
A triumphant smirk curved his lips. He loved hearing you say those words, knowing you were his and his alone. No one else would ever touch you, taste you, claim you the way he did.
He yanked your shirt over your head and tossed it aside, baring your perfect tits to his hungry gaze. He latched onto a nipple, sucking hard as his hand continued to massage your other breast. He rolled and pinched the bud between his fingers, revelling in mewls of pleasure.
His other hand worked at the button of your jeans, popping it open and shoving the denim down your legs along with your pretty panties. You stepped out of them, now fully bare before him. He drank in the sight, his cock throbbing almost painfully.
"Fucking hell, you're gorgeous," he rasped, his eyes raking over your naked form. "I'm going to worship this body like the temple it is. Make you scream my name until you're hoarse." He sank to his knees before you, pushing your thighs apart. He buried his face between your legs, his tongue delving into your sweet slick heat.
He swirled his tongue around your clit, suckling the sensitive nub and flicking it rapidly. Two fingers pushed inside your tight cunt, pumping in and out as he feasted on your sweetness. He groaned at the taste of you, licking and slurping lewdly.
His other hand came up to play with your breasts, rolling and tugging at the stiff peaks. He pinched and pulled, sending jolts of pleasure- pain straight to your core. He could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, your hips rocking against his face as you chased your release.
He curled his fingers just right, rubbing against that spongy spot inside you that made you see stars. He sucked your clit harder, determined to make you come undone. He wanted to feel you fall apart, to know he was the only one who could make you feel this good.
He fucked you with his fingers faster, his tongue lashing your clit mercilessly. His free hand slid down to fondle your ass, kneading the supple flesh. He spread your cheeks, exposing your tight rear hole to his greedy mouth.
He dragged the flat of his tongue over the puckered ring of muscle, rimming your ass as he continued to finger fuck your pussy. He pushed the tip inside, fucking you there too, stretching you open for his invading tongue.
He could feel you getting closer, your thighs starting to tremble and quake. He doubled his efforts, shoving a third finger inside your cunt and pumping hard and fast. He sucked your clit between his teeth, biting down just enough to sting. "Come for me, princess," he commanded, his voice muffled against your wet flesh. "Come all over my face like a good girl. Let me taste you."
He worked you relentlessly, his fingers and tongue driving you higher and higher until you were teetering on the edge. With a final sharp tug to your clit, he sent you flying over, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave.
He lapped at you through it, drinking down your release like a man starved, his tongue delving deep to catch every last drop of your sweet nectar. He groaned at the taste, savouring it like a fine wine. His fingers gentled their movements, stroking softly as you rode out the waves of pleasure.
When you finally started to come down, he slowly withdrew his fingers from your fluttering heat. He brought them to his mouth, sucking your essence from them and humming in appreciation. "Delicious, as always," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. He stood, pulling you flush against him again and capturing your lips in a filthy kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.
He broke away and scooped you into his arms, carrying you to your shared bedroom. He tossed you onto the bed and quickly stripped out of his clothes, revealing his battle-hardened body, all hard muscle and scarred skin. He crawled over you, caging you in with his bulk. He kissed you again, deeply and passionately, his cock nestling in the cradle of your hips. He grinds against you, the thick length sliding through your slick folds and bumping against your sensitive clit.
"I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't remember your name," he promised darkly, his light blue eyes blazing with intensity. "Gonna fill this pussy up with my cock until you're dripping with my cum. Mark you inside and out as mine."
He reached down and gripped his shaft, giving it a few pumps. He rubbed the broad head through your entrance, coating himself in her arousal. Then with one powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt in your tight heat.
They both groaned at the sensation, their bodies joining as one. He held still for a moment, letting you adjust to the stretch. Then he started to move, setting a deep, hard rhythm that had the bed creaking and slamming into the wall. He pounded into you relentlessly, his hips snapping forward to drive his cock deeper and harder. His hands gripped your hips bruisingly, holding you in place as he used you.
He angled his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you with every thrust, making your toes curl and back arch. He loved seeing you come undone beneath him, lost to the pleasure only he could give you. He leaned down to capture a nipple between his teeth, biting and sucking at the sensitive bud. His other hand reached between your sweat-slicked bodies to rub tight circles over your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.
"That's it, baby," he panted, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his release. "Come on my cock like a good girl. Milk me dry."
He could feel you getting close again, your walls starting to flutter and clench around him. He doubled his efforts, fucking into you harder and faster, his fingers working your clit with single-minded focus.
With a keening cry, you fell apart, your pussy spasming wildly around his pistoning cock. The rippling heat was too much for him to bear, and with a guttural groan, he followed you over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside you.
He collapsed on top of you, his forehead resting against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath. He peppered kisses across your face, murmuring praise in your ear. "Fuck, you're incredible," he breathed, his voice raw with emotion. "I love you so bloody much, Y/N. You're mine, all mine. And I'll kill any bastard who tries to take you from me." He pulled out of you with a hiss, his softening cock slipping free to let a trickle of his release escape from your well-used hole. He gathered it on his fingers and brought them to your lips, painting them with his essence.
"Taste us," he commanded softly, his eyes dark with renewed lust. "Taste how good we are together. How much I need you." He kissed you again, slow and deep, pouring all his love and devotion into the embrace. When he finally pulled back, he smiled at you tenderly.
He continued, his fingers still idly playing with your hair. "I just can't stand the thought of anyone else looking at you the way I do. Touching you the way I do. You're the only one for me, Y/N. The only one I want."
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. "I know I can be a bit… intense sometimes. Possessive. But it's only because I love you so goddamn much. You're my whole world, princess."
He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. "I promise I'll try to rein it in a bit. Won't let my jealous side get the better of me. As long as you keep reminding me that you're mine and only mine, I think I'll be alright." He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Though I might still have to intimidate any bloke who dares to even glance in your direction. Can't have them getting any ideas, now can I?"
He sighed, pulling you closer and resting his chin on top of your head. "I'm a lucky bastard, you know that? To have you as my wife, my partner, my best friend. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I thank my lucky stars every day that you're mine."
He nuzzled into your neck, placing a soft kiss on your pulse point. "I love you, Y/N. More than anything in this world. And I'll spend every day of our lives proving it to you, in every way I know how. Starting with round two…" He grinned wickedly, his hands already starting to roam your body again, ready to show you once more just how much he adored you.
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Devil's Embrace
Paring: Lucifer Morningstar x reader
Summery: (Y/n) had found herself at the hazbin hotel. She never thought of redemption but she got a free room while she does her work. (Y/n) made outfits and tailored for people if they pay enough. She loves trying to make unique dresses for balls or for higher class. Keeping her name in the high class of hell, she tailored for the king of hell himself. Finding herself tailoring for him in the hotel of his daughter is an interesting situation.
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: fluff, slowburn, close proximity.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5
I find myself leaning back in my seat, sighing. Watching AngleDust flirt with Husker and he growls in response. Charlie is putting more stuff on her board as she tries to figure out how to make the hotel work. I jump back on feet, strolling down the hallway ways to get to my room. I walk into my room filled with drawing and projects I've worked on. I fall flat on my face into my bed, I turn my head, looking at my recent project of a dress.
The dress was a long ballroom dress, with a long v going down the chest. The sleeves were mesh, and at the top it came off the shoulder. The skirt came out and poofed out, with the back covered in a long black mesh. The dress was white, with highlights of red, all of the mesh was black, giving it a dark energy.
Something just seems off, I don't know what it is but it just does. I hear a ping come from across the room. Lifting up my head and seeing my phone light up, I groan as I pull myself up. Walking to my table, I grab my phone and sit on the table. I read the notification, it was an email. I tapped on it, scanning over the text.
"Dear Ms. (L/n),
I hope this email finds you well. I recently purchased a suit, while I am pleased with the quality and style, I find that it is slightly larger than my measurements. Therefore, I am writing to inquire about the possibility of having it tailored to a smaller size.
The suit in question is a white Shawl Lapel with red highlights, the fabrics are jacquard and velvet, and I purchased it about a week ago. I have attached a copy of the receipt for your reference.
I would greatly appreciate it if you could provide me with information on the process and cost involved in resizing the suit. Additionally, if you require any further measurements or details, please do not hesitate to let me know.
I am eager to have the suit adjusted so that it fits perfectly, and I trust your expertise in handling this matter. I am available to schedule an appointment at your earliest convenience.
Thank you for your attention to this request. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Warm regards,
Lucifer Morningstar"
I sigh as I look at the photos he sent. It is a beautiful suit, but if I did it, the style would be better, but it is not mine. Thinking of what the price is, I need to get his exact measurements to tailor it correctly. Pressing the reply button, I started typing out my reply.
'Dear Mr. Morningstar,
Thank you for reaching out and for providing the details regarding your suit purchase. I appreciate your trust in our tailoring services.
I will be more than happy to assist you with resizing your suit to ensure a perfect fit. Before proceeding, could you please bring the suit to my studio for a fitting session? This will allow me to accurately assess the alterations needed and provide you with a precise cost estimate.
Once I have examined the suit, we will discuss the adjustments required and provide you with a timeline for completion.
Please let us know a convenient time for you to visit our store, and we will schedule an appointment accordingly. Feel free to contact us if you have any further questions or concerns.
Looking forward to seeing you soon and assisting you with your tailoring needs.
Best regards,
(Y/n) (L/n)'
I read over the email before hitting send. 'Wait, isn't Charlie his daughter?' I thought as I look back over his name. I press another reply button and put the the address, letting him know where he could meet me. Tossing my phone onto my bed, I walk out into the lobby again, sitting on the bar stool. "A shot of anything strong." I grumbled at Husk, he was cleaning a glass when he heard me. "What's the occasion?" He asked grabbing a shot glass before pouring some. "Work." I groan with my head on the bar, keeping my eyes shut, my headache gets worse with light.
"Ever thought of getting anything for those migraines?" Husk asked when he placed down the shot, I look up, grabbing the shot and downing it. "Another please. I've looked into it, but I don't need to, I'll just deal with it." Sighing as I push the shot towards Husk. He shakes his head as he pours another one, pushing it towards me. Taking the glass and downing it again.
I hear Charlie in the lobby talking to Vaggie about something, I turn to her. "Hey Charlie. Your dad is gonna come in a few days." I slur out, catching her attention she turned me wide eyed. "What?" She asked as she walked closer. "I'm tailoring a suit of his, I told him I need to take measurements cause he could have grown in the last year." I replied to her. "So he's coming to the hotel?" "Yeah, I think so." Replying to her she chuckled a but before pacing back and forth. "He's only gonna be in my room, just to get measured. He's one my highest paying customers." I chuckle, feeling the alcohol get to my system.
"He emailed me a few minutes ago about getting a suit tailored. I told him that I needed for take his measurements and then I would come up with the price." I explain to her. Charlie's pacing got faster, but she's stops when Vaggie puts her hand on her shoulder. "When would he be here?" Vaggie asked me and I shrugged.
"I can go see if he answered if you would like?" I got up from my seat, walking to my room. Opening my door, I walk to my bed, grabbing my phone. I look at the notifications, seeing a email. I walk out to the lobby, opening the email.
"Dear Ms. (L/n),
Thank you for your prompt response and for offering to assist with resizing my suit. I appreciate your attention to detail and professionalism in addressing my tailoring needs.
I will certainly bring the suit to your studio for a fitting session. I propose scheduling the appointment for this Friday afternoon around 2:00 PM. Please let me know if this time works for you, or if an alternative time would be more convenient.
I look forward to meeting with you and discussing the necessary alterations. Thank you once again for your assistance, and I am confident in your expertise to ensure a perfect fit for my suit.
Best regards,
Mr. Morningstar"
I read out loud. Charlie pauses and starts pacing again. "He can't come. We don't even know if this works. If he comes he'll know I failed." Charlie said lowly, Vaggie hugs her and kisses her cheek. "It'll be fine love." She said as she pulled away from the hug. Vaggie looked over at me and sighed. "He'll be here in two days, just make sure he is only here for that a not going anywhere else. Charlie isn't ready to face him at the moment." She said as she looked up at the clock to check the time.
I nod, I grab the shot glass and down the last one before walking to my room. Falling onto my bed, a breath left my lungs as I hit the bed. I turn over and pick up my phone, unlocking it and looking at the photo of the suit. Thinking for a second, it looks a lot like the dress. Looking between my phone and the dress on the lay figure, they would look together.
Standing up from my bed, I tiptoe to the sewing mannequin. I run my finger across it, looking back at the photo and then back at the dress. A light bulb lit up and I ran to my desk, grabbing safety pins. Taking out my sewing needles, turning on my machine, grabbing buttons. I pull the mannequin next to the desk, sketching out the idea in my head.
A bang woke me from my slumber, I jerk up and look around. Standing in my door way is AngleDust, he looks out of breath. "(Y/n)! My shirt is ruined!" He said as he walked closer with his torn shirt. I groan and put my head back on the desk. "You alright toots?" He asks as he puts his arm on my shoulder. "I'm fine, I finally figured out what was wrong with the dress, and I fixed it. There is a problem though, Lucifer is gonna be here tomorrow and he's kinda matching with his suit." A groan left my mouth, Angle walks over to dress. "It's gorgeous. I mean it's always been." He said as he looked over it.
Sighing as I felt my eyes closing. I stayed up all night working on it, adding new fabrics, adding the details. I felt myself falling asleep again as Angle looked over the dress.
My eyes slowly open, I groan as I sit up. "My back hurts like hell." Groaning as I stood up. It looked dark out, I must have slept all day. Walking out of my room into the lobby, the lights were still on so someone was awake. Yawning as I walk to the bar, my eyes saw Alastor, he was sitting on the couch as he read a newspaper. "Morning Al." I yawn as I pour myself something to drink.
His head perked up at my voice. "Morning, you know it's in the late afternoon right?" He asked as he placed his newspaper down.
"Yeah, I didn't sleep last night. So I slept all day." Yawning as I walk over to the couch, sitting next to Alastor. "Why didn't you sleep?" He asked as he sipped his drink. "Working on that dress." I groan. He hummed in response. I downed the rest of my drink before standing up. "Well Lucifer is coming over tomorrow, so I need to sleep. Night Al." "Oh goodnight (Y/n)." He grinned.
I step into my room, closing the door behind me. Sighing as I walk over to my bed, sitting on the edge before falling backwards. Grunting at the sudden stop, I throw my arm over my eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.
Waking up to my alarm, I groan. I slowly sit up and turn off my phone. I whimper as the sun hits my eyes, I have to get ready and clean up for the appointment. I pick up my phone reading the time, but I saw that I had a email.
'Dear Ms. (Y/n),
Hello, I hope this email finds you in good health. I wanted to make an appointment to have a meeting. I want some new clothes by your hand. If you have the time for a meeting please contact me.
Love,
Valentino <3'
I read over the email before putting my phone down. I really don't want to deal with him right now, I sighed as I went to my drawers. Pulling out some presentable clothes, then walking to my restroom to take a shower. I turn the knob letting the water start, after I pull my clothes off of me, letting it hit the floor. Pulling my undergarments off before sliding into the shower. The hot water hitting my skin and wetting every inch of my body.
I put shampoo in my hair and scrub it in, soap going down my body as I rinse my hair out. Grabbing the bottle for conditioner, letting my hair run under water. Pouring some into my hand before scrubbing it into my scalp. I let the conditioner soak, I wash my body before rinsing off everything. Turning off the water, I grab a towel and put it around my body.
Walking into my room, striding to my bed, where I put my clothes. Taking the towel and drying off my hair before dressing myself. After wards I look at the time, it read 12:47 pm. I sigh, I still have almost two hours before he gets here. I look around the room, seeing my room is a mess, knowing us have to clean it sooner or later.
Cleaning up my room, putting everything in place before he gets here and picking up trash and dirty laundry. I organized everything and I looked at the time, it was 1:36 pm. My eyes widen as I look at the time. "Shit he'll be here soon!" I yelled at myself and I got a new mannequin out for the suit, making sure I knew where everything I needs was. Keeping track of time, I brushed my hair and put on light makeup, so I didn't look like I was dying.
Getting myself mentally prepared to see the sin of pride. He was cocky everytime you saw him, not a bad cocky but like 'he knows he's hot and he's not afraid to show it off' cocky. The man was hot, I can't denie that.
I walk to the lobby waiting for the knock, not a second later I hear it. Walking to the door, slowly opening it to reveal Lucifer. "(Y/n), it's been to long." He grinned as walked in to the hotel, his eyes shifted all over the lobby. "We will be working in a room back here, just follow me." I say as I lead the way to my room. He gladly follows along behind me, still looking everywhere. We make it to my room and I close the door after he walks in.
"Now if you would please stand here." I ask him to stand on a X mark on the floor. He looked down and nods with a smile. "So how have you been (Y/n)? I haven't seen you in about a year." He asked as he gave me the suit. "Eh, tired. I have been working on a new dress over that year, I finally finished it the day before yesterday." I reply, setting the suit on the mannequin.
"Yeah? May I see it?" He asked as he looked around my room. I nodded and I walked into my other room, I have to rooms attached to each other for my bed room and my studio. Rolling the mannequin out, the jewels sparkled in the sun light.
"That is gorgeous." Lucifer said as he walked over, feeling the fabric. "It looks a little familiar." He said as he put his hand on his chin. His eyes caught on the suit and he gasped. "It's like a set! The dress and my suit." Lucifer stated as his eyes light up. I chuckled and nodded. "I noticed that when you sent me the photos."
"I would love to buy it." He said as he looked at it. I stopped in my tracks. "What?" I asked with a chuckle. "How much, I could gift it to my daughter." He stated as he started pulling out his wallet. "I'm not selling it right now. I actually made it for myself, kinda a dream dress." I chuckled nervously.
You could practly hear his face light up. "I've never seen you wear a dress." He said surprised. "Well yeah, I don't like wearing them." "You should put it on." He said. "No." I said flatly.
"Oh come on (Y/n). You even match with the king if hell, why not put it on?" He asked. "Lucifer, I need to start measurements, please stand where you were." I said with no tone. He was a persistent man. "Come on, I would love to see you in it." He purred out. "Lucifer arms up." I said with a measuring tape in my hands. "Come on." He whined out.
As he is begging me to put on the dress, I just ignore him and measure his body. As I measuring his bust to his groan there was blast and the hotel shaked. Causing Lucifer to tumble over and fall on me.
I closed my eyes at feeling of the rumbling, so I didn't know how close he was to me. "Well hello gorgeous." I hear Lucifer say, I open my eyes to see his face a few inches away from mine. "Oh you're wearing makeup, it looks good on you." He complemented me. "Lucifer get up." I say as I start pushing him. "I am darling." He chuckled. Standing up, he offered me a hand, which I gladly took.
"Well that didn't sound good." He stated as he dusted himself off, I nodded in agreement. "I actually finished measuring you, I would probably charge you about $230." I said as I looked over my notebook, adding the measurements. "Always straight to business. That's what I liked about you." He chuckled. Taking money from his wallet, handing it over to me, before I pull away he takes my hand, bringing it to his lips. Kissing my knuckles for a moment before pulling away. "Well I'll see myself out, and you should probably check what that sound was." Lucifer said as he started walking out of my room.
Watching him walk off, I felt the heat leave my face. When did that happen? When did my face get so hot? I asked myself, but just blew it off as me just getting hot. Placing down my money on the table, and I hear another bang. Groaning as more rubble falls down in my room. "Ughhh! What is that!?" I yelled out.
A/n: My first story on here and I plan to write more. Sorry if I update slow but I'll get around to doing it!
#hazbin hotel#lucifer morningstar#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer magne x reader#hazbin hotel x reader#Alastor#charlie morningstar#angle dust#husker hazbin hotel#vaggie#hisnumber1
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EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI
Jim Hopper x Reader | angsty smut | includes infidelity, Reader is married to a different public servant of Hawkins (can you guess who, @umnitsa ? 😉) Hopper is married as well, death of Hopper’s daughter mentioned, Hopper is a real ass here, unprotected p in v sex, vaginal fingering, ANGST ANGST ANGST…
@mrshopper84 @travelingtwentysomething @beefrobeefcal @braincell-pingpong @skye-44 @midwest-princess @riotrhythm
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“This isn’t right.”
At first, Hopper didn’t hear you speak. He was too distracted by the taste of your soft skin on his tongue, his mouth pressed to your neck in an open kiss. When your words did register in his mind, he disregarded them. Who gave a fuck whether what the two of you were doing was right or wrong? Hadn’t you both earned some happiness? You, with a husband too absorbed in his work to pay you any attention, and Hopper, whose wife had grown so cold and distant after the death of their daughter that she barely let him touch her anymore?
“This isn’t right, Hopper,” you repeated, insistent this time. His grip on your hips tightened, almost hurting. You were sitting on his lap in his office, after hours at the station. In the darkness, just the two of you, just how you liked it. How you needed it to be, to avoid a scandal that would turn the small town of Hawkins upside down...
You became frustrated at Hopper’s disregard for your words, pulling back from him. His jaw tightened, his lips a thin, hard line. “And what makes you think I fuckin’ care if it’s right or wrong?” he asked, his voice husky and impatient. “I want you.” Hopper bounced his knee under you, making you gasp as your cunt settled against the thick outline of his cock. Hopper exhaled as you shifted on top of the erection painfully straining against his uniform. “I want you,” he reiterated, speaking through grit teeth. “I want you and that asshole you’re married to doesn’t.” Hopper’s words stung already, but they were about to get worse.
“That new secretary he just hired? Remember her?” You braced yourself for what you already knew was coming. “He’s fucking her, did y’know that?” Hopper didn’t waste time softening the blow of his words with pretty euphemisms. Why should he? You’d come this far, let him touch you already. You were straddling Hopper’s lap for fucks sake. You wanted this as much as he did, and he’d be damned if he let you pretend to have grown a conscience between the time you straddled his lap and now…
Hopper knew you were a smart woman. You must have known your husband was having an affair, that he’d been unfaithful for as long as the two of you had been married. “Mrs. Kline,” Hopper uttered your name through a cruel smirk. He reached for the strand of hair spilling down your shoulder, gently tucking it behind your ear. You shivered as Hopper’s thumb grazed your earlobe, his skin warm. “Don’t let this time we have go to waste,” Hopper told you. “We both know things aren’t going to change anytime soon, for either one of us.”
You shifted a little on top of his thighs, Hopper’s cock pulsing against your cunt in response. You’d already soaked through your panties, a wet patch leaking through onto Hopper’s pants. He’d have to wash those himself, later. Couldn’t risk his wife finding them in the laundry and asking questions. But a bit of deception was a small price to pay if it meant finally getting inside you.
“Larry is-,” you began, but Hopper bucked you on his knee again, silencing you.
“Mm-mm,” he chastised, shaking his head. “Don’t say the bastard’s name. Not when you’re with me.”
Hopper swallowed any words you may have had left in a kiss. His tongue licked back the apprehension sitting on the edge of yours, the things you knew you should say, but didn’t want to. Mainly, the word “no.” You didn’t want to tell Hopper no.
His large hands held you down against his lap, thumbs finding purchase in the space where your hips and thighs met. Being the mayor’s wife, you’d interacted with the Chief of Police several times over the years. But never like this. The time you’d spent together had been social, limited to local events. Always public, always within the gaze of the people of Hawkins. The eyes of the public on you had forced both you and Hopper to keep your desire for one another a secret. But now, years later, you’d both grown weary of pretending, of keeping things professional. His hand slipped between your legs, gliding under the waist of your panties. You gasped as Hopper inserted two of his thick, calloused fingers inside you without warning. A cocky little grin pulled at his lips. “Just warming you up, sweetheart,” he drawled confidently, adding “Christ you’re fuckin’ tight…Might send you back to Lare a little broken, y’know…?”
You moaned into Hopper’s chest as he fingered you, humping against his palm. No matter how fucking good his fingers felt inside you, he was still Jim Hopper. The same man who’d developed a reputation for drinking and drug use while on the job. The same man whose wife was presumably sleeping soundly right now, at the home she shared with Hopper, having bought the lie he’d sold her about needing to stay late at the station for ‘work.’ He was working, but not the way he’d implied. Hopper’s fingers working inside you were an altogether different kind of work, the way he manipulated your cunt yet another form of manipulation he was very skilled at, in addition to lying to his wife.
“You’re so close,” Hopper gloated at your ear in a low, smug voice. The fact that he was getting you off with nothing but his fingers was stroking Hopper’s ego, just like his fingers were stroking your insides. He held a misplaced sense of pride in being able to do for you what your husband couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do. It was something Hopper could accomplish, something he could succeed at, in contrast with his crumbling marriage. Maybe instead of thrusting his fingers up another woman’s cunt, he should have been at home with his wife, working on repairing his marriage. But Hopper wasn’t interested in what he should be doing. All he wanted to do, was you.
The sound of Hopper’s chair creaked loudly in the small office at the impact of you grinding on his lap. He smacked your ass with the hand that wasn’t between your legs, then carefully removed the one that was. You whimpered at being suddenly empty, pouting up at Hopper in frustration. He didn’t deny you for long, quickly working his belt and pants undone, his cock springing free and smacking thick and wet against your cunt with an audible slap. Hopper lifted you by your hips, guiding you onto his plump, leaking tip and letting you sink onto him at your own pace.
Hungry, greedy, your cunt swallowed Hopper with minimal difficulty. You managed to take him whole, your clit pressed against the coarse dark hair above Hopper’s cock. He growled behind grit teeth, as the sensation of being consumed by you overtook him. It had been years since Hopper had been with a woman besides his wife. The grip of fresh pussy moving up and down his shaft caused Hopper’s brain to temporarily glaze over. He was lurched back into awareness by the harsh ring of the telephone sitting on his desk.
“Ignore it,” Hopper panted, speaking to himself as much as you. A moment later, the phone ceased ringing. When the shrill sound began again less than a minute later, Hopper pulled his lips from your throat and cursed. He knew there was only one person who would be trying to reach him here at this time of night. Hopper reached for the phone, gently lifting it from the receiver. He brought his index finger against his lips, instructing you to remain quiet. Forcing his voice as steady as possible, considering you were grinding up and down on his cock, Hopper spoke: “Diane?” You nuzzled your face into Hopper’s neck, muffling your own sounds into his shirt. A woman’s voice on the other end of the line spoke, but you couldn’t make out the words. You didn’t want to. All you wanted was to keep riding Hopper, moving closer and closer to your peak.
“I can’t-I uh-,” Hopper stammered, swallowing. You could feel the heat radiating from his chest, the sweat blooming beneath the hair peeking out from his shirt collar. “I’m gonna be a little longer, sweetheart,” Hopper managed, clearing his throat. He closed his eyes in an attempt to remove the image of your breasts bouncing in front of him with every descent you made on his cock. His wife’s voice chattered away on the other end of the line. “Thirty minutes,” Hopper said, and inwardly, you grimaced. You wanted all night with him, but under the circumstances, both your options and Hopper’s were limited.
“Yeah,” Hopper grunted, followed by a rushed “love you too,” before he quickly replaced the phone on top of the receiver. You paused, meeting his eyes in the dim light of his office. “Is that true?” you asked tentatively, your voice breathless. Hopper’s hands were all over you again, as if the phone call had never happened. His expression conveyed annoyance as he sorted out what you were asking him, his response a confused “what?”
“She said I love you,” you explained. “Your wife. And you said it back.” Hopper’s eyebrows lifted incredulously. “Yeah,” he said. “What’s your point?”
“Did you mean it?” you asked, despising how pitiful and small you sounded in this moment. Hopper exhaled, the cruel smirk returning to his lips. “How is that any of your fucking business?” he asked through a humorless chuckle. His smile evaporated as a darker look replaced it. “Now you listen to me, because here’s how this is gonna work-.” His hands slid down your thighs, squeezing a little too hard. “-You’re gonna keep these legs spread till I come in between them and then we’re gonna part ways like this never fuckin’ happened, understand?” You nodded, forcing the tears behind your eyes not to fall. You wouldn’t give Hopper the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt you anymore than he already had.
Hopper nodded, satisfied with your compliance. “Good girl,” he said, without any sentiment behind his words. Hopper’s arms crushed you against him as he bucked up into you. His shoulders tensed, the muscles in his stomach tightening. Hopper’s grunts of exertion grew sharper, till his body stilled tight against yours, his cum spilling inside you. With his forehead pressed to your shoulder, Hopper panted hot and labored against your chest.
The absence of sound in the office, apart from Hopper’s breath, was far from quiet. A sick tension hung in the air, his cold words repeating back in your mind on a loop. After a moment, Hopper patted your ass and instructed you to “get up.” He held onto the base of his cock as you slid off it, a thick trail of semen gushing out and landing on his thigh. Hopper cursed, almost as if implying the mess was your fault. He turned his back to you, lighting a cigarette. Feeling unsatisfied and worse, ashamed, your voice was trembling when you quietly asked, “should I…go?”
Hopper’s shoulders moved in small chuckle, and he turned to face you. His cock was still hanging out, as if he was in no hurry to put it away. You, by contrast, had already begun to dress. Hopper sucked a long drag out of his cigarette, exhaling as he informed you flatly, “yeah, we’re done here.” He reached for his coat and made his way to the door. Even though you were fully dressed by now, you felt more exposed than ever. He waved his hand ahead of him, ushering you out the front door of the station. “See yourself out,” Hopper directed. The hurt inside you was beginning to boil over into rage. You’d never felt more used in your life, even after being humiliated by your husband’s affairs for years. “Fuck you, Jim,” you spat at him, your saliva landing on his cheek. Hopper’s eyebrows lifted in a look of amusement. “Well that already happened,” he taunted.
The cold night air was oddly welcoming as you burst through the station door and out into the parking lot. You found your vehicle and quickly got inside, your hands squeezing the steering wheel till your fingers cracked. You left the station and made your way home to your husband, while another man’s cum slowly leaked out of you onto the driver’s seat the whole way home.
#stranger things#Jim hopper#jim hopper x you#Jim hopper x reader#jim hopper x y/n#hopper x you#hopper x reader#hopper x y/n#david harbour#mayor Kline#Larry Kline#hopper smut#jim hopper smut#jim hopper stranger things#jim hopper angst#jim hopper x reader smut#hopper angst#jim hopper oneshot#jim hopper fanfiction#jim hopper fanfic#hopper fanfic#hopper#hopper stranger things#hopper fic#Jim hopper x you smut#Jim hopper x y/n smut#mean!hopper#mean!jim hopper#dark!hopper#dark!jimhopper
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Fangs and Flames (Vampire!Aegon Targaryen x Witch!Reader x Vampire!Aemond Targaryen)
Chapter One: The Dinner
Summary: In a world of supernatural creatures, magic is no surprise. In fact, it is what defines you. As a witch, you feel like you have control over your life—until that day arrives. On their 21st birthday, everyone receives a golden envelope. No one knows where it comes from, and no one dares to question it. Inside lies the name of your destined soulmate, the person you’re meant to share the rest of your life with. For most, it’s a moment of wonder. But for you, it’s anything but magical. The moment they entered your life, both Targaryen brothers turned it upside down—though one of them seemed more determined to do so.
Word count: 3k
Chapter warnings: Language, modern AU setting, mentions of sex, Aemond is very much loved, Aegon being a menace
author's note: It's my first time writing a fanfiction and even though I struggled a lot the urge was too strong.. if the story's interesting enough I'd be happy to continue writing it! as you may notice those are not your typical vampires.. they can conceive and well, exist and function like normal human beings! They are immortal, though. feel free to ask questions, I'd love to discuss anything! english is not my first language, so I hope you keep that in mind.. any feedback, writing tip and criticism will be appreciated! hope you enjoy it as much as i've enjoyed writing it (no i was not stressed at all)
You don't know why everyone is making such a big deal out of it. When your mother came into your room and informed you about the dinner with guests coming over, you did not pay much attention to it. You supposed you would wear a pretty dress, put on a smile, make small talk with other ladies, and pretend you were interested in Westerosi politics. It is the routine you had mastered over the years, even if it is something you do not particularly enjoy. You never complain; you know it is your duty and a small price to pay for the privileged life you have.
You are the daughter of the Prime Minister, the most powerful man in Westeros, and you are perfect. You have to be. It's what everyone has been telling you; it's what your parents have been expecting from you since you could remember yourself.
You enjoy the process of maids preparing you. They brush your hair, put scented oils in it, and curl it loosely, just the way you like it. When Mellory pulls out a dress from your closet, you smile and raise an eyebrow. It is stunning; a long dress adorned with dark green stones and deep V neckline, but surely it is extravagant for a dinner. She dismisses your point and assures you it is perfect for the occasion. You trust her judgment, but a question lingers: what makes this evening so different from the others? You can't think of anyone who is worthy of this special welcome.
The dining hall is lined with extra flowers, and you notice candles placed on the table, their soft glow casting a flickering light over the polished silverware. Despite the beaming smile on her face you know your mother is nervous. She is constantly touching her necklace, a habit you often display when you are overwhelmed. The maids seem to share her anxiety, repeatedly adjusting the silverware and ensuring everything is in perfect order. Still, you refrain from asking any questions—you would find out soon enough.
The first person to catch your eye is Alicent Hightower. Her auburn curls cascading down her back always fascinate you, no matter how many times you’d seen them. She compliments your mother's dress and the jewellery adorning her neck. Only then does her brown eyes find you and she lets out a small gasp, grasping both of your hands to tell you how precious you look. You know her kind words does not necessarily mean she is being sincere, but you blush nonetheless. Your father seems to be ecstatic seeing his old friend, Viserys Targaryen. You can't recall the last time you had seen him. He was not present for his youngest son's graduation and his health prevented him from attending lavish parties wealthy people often hosted. Yet, here he is. You suppose this indeed is a special occasion.
You feel someone staring at you and turn to find Aegon Targaryen eyeing you with his arrogant smile. You know him back from the academy, how could you not? It was impossible to ignore all the trouble he caused in your freshman year. Your friend Maria called him a leech, a creature who thrived on other's humiliation and pain. That is only thing firstborn son of Viserys is good at: not missing a chance to embarrass and vex others. He often teased you for a small crush you had on senior Rafe Cameron. There was even a time when Maria almost got into a physical fight with him. You had to pull her back, reminding her he wasn’t worth it. That is true. Everyone knows Aegon Targaryen is useless. He is little more than a waste of space, a burden on the planet. People who have crossed paths with him agree on it, including his parents. Luckily he is few years older than you and graduated before he had a chance to make your life miserable.
You presume the taller man with long hair braided behind his back is Aemond, the heir to the Targaryen dynasty. He studied in Oldtown and you never had a chance to meet him. He is beautiful, even with the scar on his left eye and stoic expression. While your parents entertain their guests, you sit on the couch with Aemond, sipping cherry liqueur and occasionally nodding at whatever he had to say. He is educated and well-mannered, but you can't help feeling bored. He is trying far too hard to appear polite and every time you attempt to steer the conversation toward something more fun, he shuts you down. It's as if he doesn't want you to get to know the real him.
"Oh, stop it brother, she does not give a shit about your philosophy professor" you had nearly forgotten about Aegon until he appeared with a drink in hand and plopped down on the couch beside you. You recall there is another thing he's good at: drinking and whoring around.
"Hold your tongue, Aegon"
"It's fine, really" you smile at younger brother, amused at the direction the conversation had taken "It's not like I think of him as someone whose reputation could be tarnished any more"
"Is that so? Do you think of me often?"
"Only on the rare times I'm feeling blue. I recall there are people more useless than I can ever try to be" you reply calmly, not even looking at him. You are good at pretending, even with the most insufferable people like the Lannisters, but you don't need to when it comes to Aegon Targaryen. Or perhaps you simply can't.
"Aren't you still feisty" he is not affected by your insult at all. It's a game he likes to play. "After all I don't think I'm that useless if the thought of me lifts your spirits. Maybe the thought of me also helps you.. mhm otherwise"
"Aegon" Aemond says his name like a warning or a plea. You can't exactly tell it from the expression he's wearing
"No, let him talk" you squeeze his knee in an attempt to let him know you're alright, that you can handle the white-haired man you're now facing. You don't know when he managed to get his glass refilled, but he's sipping on it with an unbothered face. His blue eyes are fixed on you, challenging you to bite back. "Every time he opens his mouth, I am reminded of how low the bar for wit has fallen"
Aegon chuckles, and just as he’s about to say something, you hear your mother calling your name, signaling that everyone should hurry to take their seats around the dining table. Aegon purposefully sits in front you but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of winning. You do your best to avoid looking at him and maintain a nonchalant look. Instead, you take small bites of your meal, listening to your mother and Alicent discussing the latest charity event. Suddenly, Viserys struggles to rise, barely managing to stand. Everyone falls silent, their eyes fixed on him, waiting to hear his announcement. Everyone except Aegon, whose gaze remains locked on you like you’re the dessert he’s about to devour. His stare, his unfaltering grin is unnerving you. Somehow you take it as a warning that something is about to happen. Something definitely unpleasant to you. You don't listen to Viserys until he mentions your name.
"How fortunate it is to know that gods decided to unite our families" his voice is cheerful, though his hands tremble slightly as he holds a glass of champagne "Your daughter's name has been written alongside my son's where no living man can interfere"
Suddenly all eyes are on you and you feel small. You glance at your mother with helpless look and she offers you a faint smile. Anger rises within you. The Targaryens are robbing you of the magical moment you’d been dreaming of since childhood. Your birthday is only a few months away, you were supposed to find it out yourself.
"Please, forgive me, my sweet girl" he is looking at you and you can sense the sadness in his voice "I know you wanted to see it yourself, everyone does, but.. I'm afraid my health does not allow me to wait any longer"
There is an awkward silence and from the corner of your eye you can see Alicent drop her head low. There was no love between them—not like how a husband and wife should love each other—but there was mutual respect and care. Viserys was a widower and while he experienced happy marriage with his first wife Aemma, Alicent had never been given the chance to marry. She was still a teenager when her betrothed, Criston Cole was murdered by a vampire. You suspected that's why Alicent never seemed to be proud of her powers while other vampires flaunted theirs with arrogance—her sons included.
"I want to see my son with his betrothed while I still have some time. I want to see him fall in love" he says, and then he attempts to laugh "Surely that can excuse my audacity"
"Nonsense, Viserys. I am happy our families will be united" your father stands up and places a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder "I cannot ask for better husband for my daughter"
Surely he cannot be talking about Aegon, but why is he looking at you from across the table like he owns you? You know he can hear your pulse quicken and he smirks at the effect he has on you. You desperately look at Aemond who does not say anything. You cannot tell what he's thinking.
Maybe it's Daeron. He is handsome, sweet and charming. You always got along well and you would not mind falling in love with him. But why isn't he here?
"May we know who the lucky sibling is?" your mother nervously chuckles and you notice that she's fiddling with her necklace. Your fingers instinctively move to your chest to find it empty.
"Aemond"
There. The answer you have been waiting for almost 21 years, but it does not excite you. It does not send shivers down your spine because it was not supposed to happen like this. It was supposed to be magical, like you've read in the books, like you've imagined it.
"May I see the letter?" you ask impatiently, and Aemond stares at you blankly for a few seconds before pulling out the golden envelope from his pocket. You snatch it away from his grasp, and the chair screeches against the floor as you rise to your feet.
"Excuse me" with a forced smile you leave the hall and step onto the terrace. You hold the letter, examining it closely. Across his name is yours, engraved in black ink. You touch it, as if trying to make sure it’s real. It is very much real, and in a few months, you will be married to Aemond Targaryen.
You begin to think about him but how can you judge a person you've known for only an hour? Everyone speaks of him highly, which is why Viserys named him heir, but what is he truly like behind the stoic expression? He’s a puzzle you’re desperately trying to solve, but you only have a few pieces.
"It's cold outside" you hear his voice and turn around to give him the letter. He tucks it into the pocket of his jacket as if it’s nothing—just a piece of paper.
"I've wanted to see it myself. Sorry if I came across as rude, I never thought you were lying"
"You don't have to explain yourself, I understand" you both lean against the railing, looking at the sky without speaking a word. This man next to you is supposed to be your other half, but to you, he's just a stranger.
"How long have you known?"
"More than a year"
"A year?" you don't know why you sound so shocked. Most people have to wait longer. You think of Aegon who is 24 years old, still not married. You wonder who the girl destined to exchange vows with him is "I don't think I could keep that kind of secret"
"I did not exactly have a choice, did I?" You can hear amusement in his voice and you can't help but smile.
Talking to him is awkward, you realize. There are so many questions you want to ask him, but the moment does not quite feel right. This whole situation does not feel right or real for now. You can't help but feel disappointed. You're not sure whether it's because of the circumstances or because the person who's supposed to be yours is Aemond. All you want is to take a long shower, crawl under the bed and pretend this day didn't exist.
The silence is comfortable, and as much as you don’t want to go back inside, it’s truly cold outside. Being the gentleman Aemond is, he wraps his jacket around your shoulders and leads you back inside.
Your parents seem to get along together just fine. Even Alicent is laughing at something your mother said. Viserys calls Aemond over, and when you notice your favorite bottle of cherry liqueur is empty, you make your way to the kitchen. Of course, the maids can bring it to you, but you use it as an excuse to be alone.
You're walking down the stairs with slow steps when you hear the giggling. The young blonde maid, Annabelle, if you recall correctly, is standing dangerously close to Aegon. He is caging her against the wall, whispering softly and despite the fact that she seems to be enjoying his company and it's not really your business, you can’t bring yourself to simply walk past them.
"Is everything alright?" You don't intend to, but you sound a little annoyed. Her smile fades into a frown and she opens her mouth to say something, but only mumbles few words before rushing back into the kitchen.
"Trying to play the hero? She was clearly enjoying herself" though his voice is as serious as ever, you know he’s not angry
"Well, I certainly would not enjoy you two having sex in my house"
"And I certainly do not enjoy you taking all the fun away from me" he is walking towards you, the smell of alcohol lingering on his breath "Keep in mind that just because you're miserable, it doesn't mean I have to be too"
"And who exactly says I'm miserable?"
"Have you looked in the mirror?" his smile is wide, mocking and you feel a strong urge to punch him in the face.
“Ever considered it’s because I’m forced to breathe in the same room with a pathetic creature like yourself?”
"Right, I'm pathetic" he steps even closer, far too close for your comfort, but you do not move "Yet you're standing here, wasting your precious time with me"
"I like to do charity work" satisfied with your response, you swiftly walk past him.
"Then you'll surely enjoy my brother"
His words stop you and you turn around to face him. No matter how little you know about him, Aemond is still your betrothed, and you will not allow anyone to disrespect his name, especially someone like Aegon.
"You truly are pathetic"
"Eh, is that all you can say?"
"About you? Oh, there's so much I can say. Nothing remarkable though" your tone is laced with venom. You’re done with this evening, and with him. "You think insulting your brother will change the fact that you're a complete failure? You think whatever flaws he has make you look better? Grow the fuck up, Aegon. No one thinks of you as anything more than a disgrace to the Targaryen name. You’re nothing. Just flesh and bones. A body, ready to be used and discarded the next day.”
He does not say anything, he does not have to. His pale blue eyes are almost dark and you know you've hit the right spot. Yet, to your surprise, it doesn’t give you the satisfaction you expected. You turn on your heel and move past him, but he pulls your arm back, almost whispering.
"You forget what I'm capable of"
"And what is is that you're capable of? Disappointing me?" he can’t do anything to you, not if he wants to continue roaming the earth, burdened by his own existence. "Have some dignity and let go of me"
"Think you know everything, huh?"
His gaze lingers on your neck, eyes drifting toward your carotid arteries, and you know he wants to taste you—devour you—until you stop screaming, fighting, breathing.
"Have fun putting the pieces of him back together"
You stand like that for a while before he removes his grip from you and resumes drinking whatever he had been holding.
You contemplate it for a while, but on your way to the kitchen you mutter a few words to yourself. Then you hear glass shattering and Aegon cursing your name. A faint smile curls your lips, and the maids glance at you suspiciously.
"I need more cherry liqueur"
They're happy to oblige your request. When you finally go back to the dining hall you don't look at Aegon and his stained shirt. Instead, your attention, like everyone else’s, turns to Viserys, who is frantically coughing. Alicent and Aemond try to help him up. Soon after, they leave, but not before your betrothed kisses the back of your hand and Aegon throws you a disgusted look.
You are laying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Whatever effect alcohol had on you seemed to wash away under cold shower. You think of Targaryens but it's not Aemond that occupies your thoughts. You think of his brother and what you said to him. A wave of guilt consumes you. Perhaps you were too cruel? Your words were truthful, but they were harsh—even for someone like Aegon. You can’t shake his disgusted expression from your mind, and as sleep finds you, you dream of him.
He is clutching your waist, his hand pressed between your neck and shoulder, while you desperately claw at him, trying to push him away. His grip tightens, and every attempt to escape only seems to encourage him further. Tears stream down your face, and your breath quickens. The last thing you see is his bloodstained mouth. Then everything fades to black.
#aegon targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond x reader#aegon x reader#hotd fanfic#aemond fanfiction#aegon fanfiction#aegon targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x you#house of the dragon fanfiction
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𝚕𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎
older! college coach! steve x fem! reader
summary: your mysterious coach was always hot headed and pushed you harder than the other girls, after losing an important game, you both find ways to release your frustrations.
triggers: 18+ ; steve is thirty and reader is early twenties and plays basketball in college. smut, light use of pet names, no y/n, steve is a dick to reader and has a huge one, biting, hickies, p in v no condom. Very slight mention of blood, indication of simp behavior at the end.
“Hustle girls!”
“Box her out!”
“Are you fucking kidding me 22?”
His workout tank was ringed dark around the hem of the neck, glistening drops of sweat travel from the column of his neck down into the gray cotton blend fabric.
He was pissed. When wasn’t he?
A rogue strand of hair escapes from the style he had down to a science, red blotches flashed across his cheeks and neck, veins poked out from his vacation tanned skin.
Last night's game ended horribly. And today you were all paying the price for it.
-
With only 10 seconds left on the clock in the 4th quarter, the play he had drawn up on the marker board was the exact same one you had been practicing since your first year at college. Only this time you were getting the ball after Mel faked to Blair, with just enough time to shoot that beautiful three point shot you had been perfecting since high school.
The squeak from the black expo marker under his thick fingers wrote out his code: Hawkins for the play that was drilled into your brain by coach for the last year.
“Run it just how we’ve been practicing, I’m telling you it’ll work.”
Mel’s fake out didn’t work and you had gotten the ball late. Each dribble from the floorboards into your sweaty palm felt like a heartbeat. The girl guarding you swatted at the ball, missing just barely as she attempted to make a steal, trying to force you to foul her when she had the ball to waste more time and grant you your fourth foul, ending your playing time.
A quick move around her and a cross to your left hand had her stumbling over her ankles like Bambi, and you cut to the three point line, lined up your Nike’s to the hoop like your dad had taught you, and arched the ball into the air.
The buzzer was blaring when the orange ball left your finger tips, tongue poking out and your ponytail fluttering behind you. the gymnasium lights were hospital white, piercing your eyes and making you see dots as you landed on your feet, your competitor reaching for the ball at the last second.
Anticipation filled your lungs as the ball circled around and around the rim. The girls and coach all rose from the bench and waited with hands on their heads or holding hands watching the ball spin.
And with a sick twist, it fell out. Landing to the floor with a silent thud as the bleachers erupted into a nascar loud roar.
Bulldogs: 60 Pirates: 58
He was furious.
Clipboards snapped on his khaki thighs as you all sat on the wooden benches of the sweaty walled locker room. He didn’t yell, he didn’t speak to anyone other than glaring into the ceiling.
“Pack your shit, bus leaves in five.”
No times for showering or debriefing, you and your teammates were hustled to the bus as he snapped his fingers, let’s go let’s go let’s go!
Refusing to let the bus driver stop to get water or any sort of snacks on the way home. “They don’t deserve it.” He preened, looking at your sad faces with a disapproval that cut so deep it had some of the girls in tears.
His mossy green eyes stopped on yours and the disappointment brewed to hatred, his eyes burning emerald, he blew air through his nose and clenched his knuckles, “none of them.”
Mel had thrown up twice during Coach’s infamous Hellfire Sprints. Her and her boyfriend Trevor, who was practically your 5th suitemate, had stayed up until dawn doing pulls from a tequila bottle and hitting his dab pen.
You hadn’t slept either.
Laying on top of your comforter with wet hair and lotion slicked skin, racking your brain with how the shot felt a tiny bit off from your fingers, how coach’s eyes looked like a fucking demon’s when he glared at you on the bus.
How the Sunday morning practice, which was usually laid back and games of pig and watching game tape, was going to be hell on earth.
“22 if I have to tell you one more time to move your ass I’m cutting you from this team do you hear me?”
You rolled your eyes as you pushed yourself faster to touch the black line, beating out the other girls by a full few seconds.
After the sixth set of sprints he had you all go to the workout room and max out on squats. Your legs shook and nearly buckled under the heavy weights. And all he did was stand behind you and tell you how pathetic you looked, he shook his head and scoffed.
“We’re gonna stay here all day til you rack this up, don’t care if you fall on your ass— you’ll do it.”
His breath fanning your ear drove you mad. Spearmint gum and that rich boy cologne he always wore stung your nose as you grunted in defiance.
Through bared teeth and burning lungs you extend your legs to stand.
You wanted to kick him in the dick, make him shut the fuck up for once, but you bit your tongue. Driving the bar up and slamming it loud against the rack Looking back at him with a glare in your eyes, you wouldn’t let a single tear wet your eyes, never giving him the satisfaction.
He looked you up and down quickly, but his eyes felt like hot pokers dragging against your skin. Before he crossed over to another one of your teammates to add more weight to their bar, he dipped his head, and muttered just above a whisper, “Thatta girl.”
-
You didn’t know much about him but what you did know was that he kept to himself.
Coach Harrington was only a few years older than you, he had a small mustache that he more than likely grew to make himself look a little older than he was.
From what your suitemates had found out by spending hours scouring online archives from his hometown local newspaper to his social media footprint that didn’t exist— and even going as far to stalking his ex girlfriends Instagram— he had played college ball at Perdue for two years before blowing out his knee and ending a full ride scholarship and any rumored possibility of making it to the NBA.
From locker room gossip, you had learned that he drove a black Jeep Wagoneer, and lived in one of the newer apartments downtown.
The university had paid double what they had for the last coach's salary to get Harrington through the doors. The athletic director, Mr. Hopper, had picked him to coach because he was one of the best. But all he was to you was a fucking asshole.
The other girls had ooed and awed over him, the other teams coaches flirted with him before the games, trying to get his number and find out more about the brooding coiffed hair hottie. And maybe you would feel different about him if he wasn’t such a raging prick.
But he wouldn’t budge.
He didn’t get personal with anyone on the team, barely even talked to his assistant Dustin. Refusing to call anyone by anything other than their jersey number or their last name.
Practice lasted for three hours. And by the end of it his voice was hoarse and gruff. Having screamed practically during the entire time.
It wasn’t anything new. He was always high strung and losing his shit when it came to the girls, but mostly you bore the brunt of his anger.
He always used you as an example on what not to do.
“You’re doing it wrong 22,” he’d bellow, his voice echoing loud across the empty gym, his arms crossed tight across his chest, muscles popping under the strain of his tight gray shirt, “drive to the left then cut right, this isn’t fucking hard… do it again.”
You did as you were told, fighting through anger that seeped through your skin and riddled your face with shaking muscles of anger, a twitch to your eye.
You were pissed and had had enough. Not only were you the youngest captain your school had ever seen, you were averaging triple doubles nearly every game.
Showing up to practice early to shoot free throws and leaving late to make sure all the equipment was put away. Spending weekends in the gym running drills or pushing weights instead of at the nearest rager popping pills and snorting coke like everyone else your age.
You put in the work and it showed, but he couldn’t see it.
It was equally frustrating and heartbreaking.
When practice was finally through and all of the girls had either thrown up, left mid practice to go to the nurse or screamed that they were quitting, the locker room was an endless groan. Muscles were slicked over with the menthol burn of icy hot, and sore shoulders wrapped with bags of ice. Tape was torn from ankles and jammed fingers wadded up and tossed into a nearby waste bin. Sniffles were heard from some players and you stood in a sports bra and shorts when Coach Harrington entered the locker room.
“Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be back here in 3 hours to run more Hellfire Sprints.”
The girls groaned and slammed lockers, bitching under the breath.
“Hey!” Coach Harrington shouted, a thin vein bulging in his forehead, matching the ones in his arms, as he stood with his hands on his hips, the retro fit of his athletic pants swishing under his thick hands. “You want someone to bitch to? You can thank your captain.”
The room falls silent as all eyes land on you. And your breath hitches in your throat, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Me?” You question, “what the hell did I do?”
“The question you should be asking yourself is what you didn’t do. How did you sleep last night knowing you blew that game for your teammates?”
A gasp escapes from your lips and you stare at your Air Forces to hide your pained expression.
“Now, the rest of you get recharged, be back here at 5 o’clock, I don’t want any excuses.” As the room starts to file out, through the heavy wood door, Coach Harrington still stands in the middle of the room, eyes burning holes into your skull, “22 meet me in my office in 10, we need to discuss your position on this team.” He turned on his heel and headed through the doors, pushing them open with a straight arm and his pants swishing down the hallway,
You wait til everyone has gone, Mel giving you a slap on the shoulder, her skin unusually pale on her olive complexion under her charcoal braids, “good luck.”
Lifting your chin you nod and wave, throwing an oversized crew neck over your head and pushing your arms through the holes. Gym bag strewn over your shoulder and you pull your socks up a bit before making the long trek down to Coach Harrington’s office.
Contemplating what you would do when you walked through his office and he kicked you off the team, your long basketball career over because your coach couldn’t fucking stand you.
Never in all your life had you had a coach like him. He pushed you to the limits and started to make you despise the sport altogether.
And since you were about to be booted off the team, you didn’t have anything to lose.
The gold plate reading: Coach S. Harrington- Women’s Basketball on the large mahogany door nestled between the cream cinder block walls almost made your stomach lurch. He never asked anyone to come to his office, not even when Zoey got pregnant last semester and had to quit.
Nerves shook your fist as you knocked on his door, your other hand fumbling your car keys around the silver ring.
“Yeah.” He barked curtly, anything but friendly.
Turning the enormous brass knob, you keep your eyes to the floor when you step into his office. For being down an abandoned hallway, it was almost cozy. The walls were painted fire engine red to match your school's colors. His college degree was framed and hanging on one wall, along with signed pictures of Michael Jordan that you knew cost more than your car.
The oak desk was neat with a MacBook and cup of pens and pencils. A markerboard hung the expanse of one wall covered in scribbled plays and code names.
It smelled like musky expensive leather and cologne and neatly stacked paper Pictures from his glory days were on the shelf behind him, and he cleared his throat when you stared at him flying through the air towards a hoop.
His hair was messy, tufts of brown sticking up, like his fingers had been raking through it so many times out of frustration that the flexible gel wasn’t holding anymore.
He peers at his screen without making eye contact with you, fingers tapping noisily on the keys.
“Do you hate basketball?”
His question has your head spinning. And when you don’t answer right away he asks again.
“N-no,” you stutter, voice shaky and on the verge of screaming at his stupid question.
“Sure about that?” He seethes, still not looking up from his laptop as he clicks away furiously on the keyboard, “The way you played last night could have fooled me.”
Moon shapes indent your palm as you try to keep it together without ripping his head off like a praying mantis “It was a mistake.”
“We don’t make elementary mistakes,” he says slamming his laptop closed and peering over his desk at you through his thick eyebrows, “a fucking third grader could have ran that play better than you did.”
Your throat is dry and chalky as you try to stick up for yourself, being accustomed to keeping rage boiled hot in your belly, “I-I’m..”
His torment continues, pointing around the room at the awards from the last few years, “We’re a nationally ranked team, and your performance last night was embarrassing, and pathetic!”
A single tear threatens to slip down your cheek, and he notices the watery look in your eye, and licks his lip, but he keeps going.
“I expected more out of you, 22– you let your team down last night, and most importantly, me.”
You burst before the dam does, annoyed and sick of his threats, sick of his constant nitpicking of every move yoj make, “That’s not anything new.”
“Excuse me?”
“You treat me like I’m a dog! It’s almost like you want me to quit, you don’t bitch at any of the other girls like you do to me, and I’m tired of it!”
“Watch your mouth.” He points, eyes squinted and nostrils flared.
“No! I work my ass off for you, come in early and stay late. My game has improved and I’m top of the charts for scoring and rebounds, yet you fucking hound me and are constantly cutting me down.”
He doesn’t say anything so you keep going.
“Last night could have ended with us winning and you wouldn’t give a flying fuck, you’d still make us run your dumbass drills, you’d still wake up and find something wrong with what I do— stop taking your failed career out on me!”
he slams his fist into his desk and stands up quickly, the picture frames wiggle as his chair hits the shelf. He crosses the small office in one long legged step coming to stand before you as your back hits against the heavy door, he points a thick finger into your face.
You struck the last fragile nerve he had like a guitar player busting a string playing a solo. Any reserve he had left was gone, his eyes clouded over into hue deeper than a dark forest.
His hot breath fans your cheek, spearmint intensely strong with each bite of his words.
“Don’t you ever talk to me about my personal life again, you got that? You,” he surges pointing into your shoulder, “are supposed to be a leader for this team, and right now you’re acting like a spoiled fucking brat not getting her way.”
The tear you were holding back spills over over your lashes and, his eyes break from yours to watch its southward path on from your cheek to your chin. A low grown rumbles in his throat.
“I’m not a brat!” you scream at him, wiping your cheek hastily, “you’re crazy, and we all hate you!”
His eyes stay moody and dark as he peers into your face down the slope of his nose, “really?” he says no louder than a whisper, “you hate me huh?”
A thick hand wraps around your ponytail, and his body crowds yours into the door, back flat as it would go despite your curves.
Your breathing is erratic, bubbled into your throat with anxiety like you might throw up. His face is so close to yours you can see the definition of each of his eyelashes, and tiny flecks of gold in his eyes.
He’s staring at you with pure hatred, like he’d kill you if ever given the chance, and you’re almost embarrassed by the way your pussy clenches.
“Say it again,” he murmurs, mouth barely moving and barely an inch from your own, his eyes only leave yours when your mouth opens to speak.
“I fucking hate you, Coach Harring—”
His mouth slams into yours with such force your teeth clack together and the taste of blood trickles on your tongue. Your back is pushed flush against the door, likely to bruise from the force alone.
His full weight is pressed against you, his taut body firm and rocked with muscles. He locks your hips in place with alarge hand, fingers gripping your skin beneath your sweater.
Firm and taking what he wants without a second thought, his lips are intoxicating. The roughness of his mustache tickles your lip in an itching way, more than likely leaving a burn behind in his feverish take on your mouth.
His hair is soft in your grip, and you nearly roll your eyes thinking about his hair care routine, but you find yourself rolling your eyes in a different way when you feel his cock bulging through his pants.
Thick and heavy against your thigh, if you had to take a guess it was probably as veiny as his forearms were. And you stifle a moan when it kicks up.
His teeth bite at your lip and you yelp in pain, a noise that only drives him further into you, his hand tightens around your ponytail and yanks your neck further back so your head hits the door.
His shirt is fisted into your hand and you pull him further into you, sliding your tongue against his—sharing the taste of your fresh blood and his spearmint spit.
You scratch at his scalp with your dull nails and he fights back a melty groan.
“Such a fucking brat.” He breathes, as his fingers work the hem of your crew neck up, his fingers feel like lightening strikes against your body, and you welcome the dulled pain with a moan, “Need’t be put in your place.”
You whine when your sweater hits the ground with a soft thud and the cool air of his office ices over your still sweat slicked skin. His lips suck deep bruises into your throat, and his fingers dip into the waistband of your shorts, shoving them down in a hurry.
Expert fingers find your clit and he smirks when you whine for more, “thought you hated me?”
You pout when his fingers come to a halt, eyes flicking open to see his confidence boasting on his stupid perfect face.
“But this pretty little pussy doesn’t, does she baby?”
“Coach,” you moan out for him, his title on your lips in a sloppy whine make him harder than he’s ever been.
His thick fingers dip into the silky warm folds of your pink pussy. The combined noises you make, echo loud in his office. “Fuck baby,” he groans, his fingers sucking up into your gummy walls, he pops them out licks the juicy wetness of your arousal from them. “So wet honey, all this for me?”
Your fingers pinch at his sweats and pull them down in a swift motion along with his boxer briefs. He’s hung more than you thought. Making any guy you had been with previous look like something in a funny museum.
His abs are sculpted and dip into a hard cut v, leading to a small patch of trimmed hair, housing the longest, thickest dick you’ve ever come across.
And you were right it was veiny.
The pretty mushroom pinked head was presenting a pearl of pre cum, so pretty it could make an angel cry. When you try to lower yourself to wrap your lips around him, he stops you.
“Not today,” he groans, fisting his hearty length, your eyes going dumb watching him, brain numb and drunk on him already, “not enough time.”
He wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you up against the wall, your bare back stings against the rough cement wall, he’s grabby, his lips pressing heat into your neck, his moan tingling your skin.
With a quick shift of his hips, your tight pussy sheaths his thick cock. And you scream out.
“Shit, fuck honey..” he’s fighting to keep composure as you are practically lifeless against the wall. His thrusts are filled with purpose and want as your ass is slammed harder and harder into the wall, clapping along like a round of applause, ankles crossed around his lower back at your Nike socks and the laces of your air forces bouncing in tandem.
He’s sweaty and grunting, with each pull from his cock brings more deep and pretty noises from you and he sucks into your shoulder again, knowing damn well his mark will last for weeks. One you’d have to explain to your friends and your teammates, and your boyfriend.
He didn’t know if you had a boyfriend and frankly he didn’t give a fuck, you were his for the time being and he would do as he pleased.
He was fucking you stupid and you were letting him, holding his neck in a lazy grip as he hammered into you, and when you tightened around him, he knew you were close, “look at me,” he begs of you, “you’re gonna come for me, yeah?”
“Yes,” you choke out, barely registering what he’s saying from the tight coiled pleasure of your orgasm ready to fire away.
His cock drags slow as your eyes connect, yours lazily spilling over with fresh tears, “who’s makin’ you feel this good, 22? Huh?”
“Y-you Coach!” you whine, nearly ready to crumble under his thick fingers when he rubs your sensitive clit.
“What was that baby girl?,” he croaked, holding back his release, “couldn’t hear you.”
“Oh fuck oh fuck mmm you, Coach Harrington! Fuck I’m coming!”
Your orgasm breaks and it’s like a dam has busted, his dick is soaked by your arousal and he’s losing any bit of cockiness he had left when your face smooths and your lips blur a pretty round ‘o’ as you hum and your body tingles.
He follows not far behind you, muttering sentences that make no sense, drunk on your pussy as he paints your walls with his release.
You’ve never seen him look hotter, his forehead rests on your chest as you both catch your breath. For a split second he shows you a sly smirk, like he actually was enjoying himself.
“you might just be my fav-”
before he can finish, before he can pull out and offer you a towel, a loud knock scared everything in him stiff. Besides his cock that went instantly soft.. his blood ran cold.
His face stares at the door, and you stare at him, your grip on his shoulders tighten.
“Steve?”
*let me know your thoughts on this, should there be a part 2? I love hearing your comments ♥️
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@notyourdumblonde - continued from here
There... wasn't? Mayhap it had been far too long since Gylfie had entertained the notion of a courtship with anyone, or mayhap her courtship with Myriel still left her feeling the need to keep her affections hidden. But the idea that she didn't need to keep it hidden lifted her heart, as cautious as she was to accept it, and smiled fondly at Luciana. Her head tilted slightly as she watched her work on her dress.
"Are you certain?" she asked - her voice quiet. Hesitant, even. "I do not wish to cause problems for you, Luci." Gylfie took notice of her wince, and grimaced sympathetically in response. "You alright?" She glanced at Luciana's hand, and ignored the way her heart skipped a nervous beat at the sight of blood, as small as it was. "Here, let me see."
She didn't dare interrupt her lover's work, and was distracted by her question - her face warming. "Ah, that sounds more interesting," Gylfie admitted with an embarrassed chuckle. "There was a bit of an incident last night and I had to run after someone. I hadn't the time to be more careful with it." There was a reason why Gabranth's dying wish had been for Basch to carry on his mantle, and last night had proved it, when someone attempted to go after little Emperor Larsa. But, even in a formal setting, Gylfie and the other Magisters were still on duty, and nothing came of it, outside of an arrest and her torn dress.
"Thank you for mending it," she added. "It means much to me, my heart."
#notyourdumblonde#v; to make a name you pay the price#s; would it be enough if i could never give you peace? / gylfie & luciana
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~Did You Take My Advice?~
(Vince Everett X Reader)
(Huge thanks to @atleastpleasetelephone for taking the time to proof read this for me!)
(TW: P in V sex, hair pulling, name calling, rough sex, Daddy used in a sexual way, breeding kink, spanking, slight angst?)
Vince is so caught up in making money, he fails to take Reader’s advice on loving her better.
Money. It was all about the money, to Vince. Nothing really mattered that much, not even his Girl. All that was relevant was the cold hard cash that he earned. Y/n watched on as he counted this week’s earnings, a frown tugging at her lips as he muttered to himself. “…I bought a new dress today.” She says, hoping to gain his attention. “Uh-huh…How much was it?” He asks, only interested in price. Of course. Shaking her head, she pulls her knees up to her chest on the bed, resting her cheek on her arm. “…I thought you would like it on me.” She tries again. “Mhm…” Vince merely hums. ’This is hopeless…’ Y/n thought to herself, feeling the rift between the two of them. It was such a shame. “If you want my advice, Vince,” She started, looking over at him again. “You should stop loving your money more than me.” “That’s nice…” Finally deciding that there was no point in trying to converse with him, she laid herself down, drawing the blanket over her form as she turned her back to face towards him, giving up.
A few minutes had passed by in relative silence, the only sound in the room being that of Vince’s cash shuffling in his hands. “There,” He sighed happily, setting down the last bill. “All done. A nice, couple hundred bucks’s all I need to make me happy. What were you sayin’, Darlin’?” Seeing that she was facing away from him, and so silently no less, his brows knitted together in confusion. “Darlin’? Y/n…?” He reached a hand out to graze his fingers along her arm, softly frowning as he realised the mistake he’s made. “Baby, I’m sorry I wasn’t really paying attention to ya’. Truly…I know you ain’t sleepin’.” But Y/n didn’t want to face him. She was hurt, disappointed. She always figured that having a relationship with someone like Vince would be complicated, but the bouts of loneliness she felt were too much at times for her to properly handle. Making an important decision, he cast his money aside, lowering himself to lay behind her, draping an arm over her waist. “C’mon, Honey…I’m tryin’ now…You’re really gonna ignore me…?” “Why shouldn’t I…? You ignore me…” She muttered beneath her breath, still deeply hurt by his behaviour. ���I know…I said I was sorry, Y/n. Don’t you believe me?” He softly inquired, slowly rubbing her side up and down, squeezing her hip lightly. It’s silent on her end. She didn’t even know how to answer his question.
Vince hummed quietly, pressing closer against her back, moving her hair aside to begin urging his lips all over her neck in gentle, loving kisses. “I know I’m not the best,” He admitted. “But I really do love you. So very much, Baby.” As she lay there, he continued to pepper kisses over the sensitive skin of her neck, his large hand beginning to wander over her body. “I love you…Mmm…I fuckin’ love you…” He murmured sweetly against her neck, dragging his hand up her stomach, further still until he was cupping her breast, giving it a squeeze. “Love your personality…Your beauty…The way your body feels beneath mine…” Hearing his whispers grow passionate and husky, Y/n couldn’t help but to draw her lower lip between her teeth, unable to resist the way he spoke of her. “Do you want to be touched?”
That was it. She just couldn’t take it anymore.
“Yeah…Touch me, Vinnie…” She whispered in return, pressing back against his body, grinding her ass against his crotch. “Good Girl.” He nipped at her earlobe, his breath grazing her skin, fanning across her hair. His hand worked her nightgown upwards, pulling it over her head with a grunt of appreciation, pulling her atop his body, back against his chest. “Whose tits are these?” Vince questioned, cupping her perfect globes, thumbing at her hardening nipples. “Yours…” She replied, biting her lip yet again in want. “Mhm. And look at this,” He removed a hand to trail down her body, using a finger to lift the thin little string of her thong, letting it go to snap against her hip. “Don’t you know any better? Going out all day wearin’ this skimpy li’l thing. Someone could’ve seen it. That would’ve pissed Daddy off. Do you know why?” He nipped at her earlobe once more, this time just that little bit harder. “Because this pretty li’l pussy is mine, Y/n. You’re mine. I should punish you.” “Oh, don’t punish me, Daddy-“ Y/n tried to plead, though really, she wanted him to. “Shush. I get to say what goes. And because of this little stunt you pulled without me knowing, you’re gettin’ punished.” He growled, pushing her off his body and onto her stomach, though gently.
“Ass up in the air.” Vince demanded sternly, watching as she obeyed without any hesitation nor complaint. Without warning, he allowed his hand to come down hard on her ass, the slap echoing in the room, paired with the sound of her yelp. “Naughty li’l thing. Didn’t even tell me what you were wearin’ ‘neath your clothes today.” He spanked her again, rubbing over the stinging mark of his handprint. “‘M sorry, Daddy…Should’a told you…” Y/n apologised. “Damn right you should be sorry.” He growled yet again, whipping his hand down on her ass for a third time. “Ya’ could’a taken care of me like a good li’l slut earlier. But you went and decided not to tell me, and now I have to get rough with you. Ya’ gonna do it again?” “No…” “I can’t hear you.” He hissed, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling it back to expose her throat. “No, Daddy. I won’t do it again. “Mhm. Now, are you going to take my cock?” “Yes, Daddy.” The sound of his belt buckle unhooking from the leather filled the room, his hands deftly working to remove his trousers, unbuttoning and unzipping the fabric. He pulled his shirt overhead, tossing it away with a swish of the material, landing on the floor soon to be joined by his trousers. Having been wearing no underwear, Vince’s cock eagerly sprung out, already with pre-cum beading at the reddening tip. Resting on his knees behind Y/n, he lined himself up at her entrance after ripping off her thong, one hand pressing against her back.
“Fuck…You’re so goddamn tight…” He groaned out in appreciation as he sunk deep into her wet depths, bottoming out in what seemed like no time. She buries her face into her pillow, gripping the sheets beneath her tightly. It wasn’t too long after that he began to steadily thrust into her, taking his time working her just right. Reaching up to grab her hair once again, he pulled it all back as he sped up his pace, all before he was pounding into her. “Take it…Fuck, you better take it good…” Grunted Vince, angling her hips just right to be able to find that sweet spot of hers, taking a few sloppy tries until finally finding it. “Oh, Vince!” Y/n cries out in pleasure, arching her back. He swatted her ass in punishment, using that free hand to then grasp her hip in a bruising hold. “I thought I told you to call me Daddy, slut.” He gruffly reminded her, pounding harder into her pussy, feeling her clench desperately around his thick shaft. “Y-Yes, Daddy! Oohhhh, yes! R-Right there! Harder!” With her desperate plea, Vince had tilted his head back, letting out a low groan. “Ya’ want it harder?” He echoed. “You always want it hard…And I always give it to you…” He let go of her hair, instead, practically hugging her hips to push her as far back as he possibly could, wanting to keep inside her at all costs. “Mmm, you feel so goddamn good, squeezin’ my cock like that- Shit-“ Y/n continued to moan and writhe beneath him, just barely registering the words that he had been speaking. Sweat poured out of every crevice of her body, hair sticking to her forehead and stuck in the corners of her mouth by the slight drool that had been collecting.
“Gonna breed you, Y/n…Gonna give you a baby…You like that?” He grunted in her ear, panting all the while. She nodded her head rapidly, arching her back for what seemed like the millionth time that night. “Yeah? You want Daddy to breed you?” He emphasised his words with a deep, hard thrust, hearing the erotic sounds of her pleasured cries. “Fuck, Daddy-!” Y/n gasps out, feeling her insides twisting in a white hot coil, her orgasm rapidly approaching. “Oh, yeah…Gonna cum, Baby…Gonna fill you up…” Vince panted, feeling his own release building. She had came, her climax messy and fulfilling, her body convulsing with the force. He followed not long after, his hips stuttering as his cum spilled deep into her. “There-! There…Hahh…” Vince rested himself against her sweaty back, pressing a tired kiss to her shoulder. “…Did you take my advice, Vinnie…?” Y/n asks with a slight smile, feeling a lot better than she had earlier. He chuckled, kissing her shoulder tenderly yet again. “I did…I’m so sorry for what I’ve done…I know I shouldn’t ignore you like that…” “That’s okay…You made it up to me.” She assured. "You feeling okay? Not hurt, are you...?" He worried over her, running his fingers through her damp hair. "Mhm, I'm fine. I'll probably be a bit sore tomorrow, but...It's all worth it." "That's good. You looked like you were really enjoying your punishment." Vince grinned teasingly, rubbing her back in slow, comforting circles. "Oh, hush." Y/n playfully rolled her eyes, giggling softly. "Maybe I did enjoy it, Vinnie. But did you enjoy paying attention to me for once?" She asked. "More than anything." He replied without hesitation, nuzzling his face in the crook of her neck. "I shouldn't ever ignore you...Never...And as much as I love my money, I could never love it as much as I love you, Y/n." "I love you too..." And that was enough for her.
#smut#elvis presley#vince everett#elvis imagine#elvis x reader#elvisaaronpresley#elvis photos#elvis presley x reader#elvis fans#elvis presley x y/n#elvis presley x you#slight angst#elvis fandom#50s elvis
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Young zaundads wip (21)
***
Vander wants to go straight to the docks, to see if there's any word on that furniture, but Silco insists they head down to their little room first. They leave through the main gates of the courtyard, past Babette's colourful tents already filled with chatter and laughter, and then double back around the fissures to that small entrance to the old mines.
Once the door is safely latched behind them, Silco turns the lantern up and sits down on a blanket. He pulls out his little notebook and pencil, and shows Vander.
"I keep a record of what I owe them, what I earn and what I spend. It matches their records exactly," Silco says, before Vander can ask. "I like knowing how much I owe. Knowing how long it will take me to repay."
"How long? Now that you're not paying for a bunk?"
They've spent weeks working towards that goal, but Silco sighs. "Close to four years. A little less if we set up a market and make some money."
Vaunder crawls around Silco, sitting behind him and wrapping his arms around Silco's narrow chest. He presses a kiss to Silco's cheek. "It's not that bad, is it?"
Silco settles his long, elegant fingers over the back of Vander's hands. For someone who glares and mutters and looks like he's one step away from picking a fight with whoever's closest to him, Silco can be so tender, so careful with his touches. He brushes Vander's hands like they're delicate as a cobweb. "I've worked this mine for eight years now. Trust me, three years is still a long time."
Vander kisses the thin skin beneath his ear. There's a promising hitch to Silco's breath and then Silco says, "That's not the point. The point is so you understand my notes."
Vander makes an interested hum against Silco's neck.
"Pay attention," Silco chides, but he doesn't tug Vander's hands away from his waist or pull out of Vander's embrace. He holds his notebook up and turns it back to front and upside down. From the back of the journal, the first two pages are full of careful notes. For each captain they spoke to, Silco's noted down names of crew and the shop, the origin, the items transported, the agreed price and what the captain is usually paid by Piltover. He writes every price in bronze.
"Noxian whiskey," Vander adds when he reads through the notes on the Flying Dove. He remembers that captain: short, squat and with bright red hair cut short. "She said they sold it to Piltover for eighteen silver."
"Do you really think anyone down here could afford that? Could actually buy a bottle?"
Vander shrugs. "Don't know. But if you're keeping notes…"
"Might as well keep it accurate." Silco reaches for a pencil and adds Noxian whiskey to the list of stock. "I was thinking we'd keep a list of contributions owed back to each of us and a separate list of sales."
Silco already has the pages drawn up, columns labelled Date, V and S on one page and on the next, Date, Item, Bought, Sold and Profit. It looks as organised as anything the mine bookkeepers produce. "If you're this good with figures, why aren't you working in the office?"
When Silco looks over his shoulder, there's a bitter twist to Silco's expression that Vander recognises. "Would you like to know how many foundlings work in the office?"
There's probably only two dozen positions in the office, men and women who spend all day tallying up the records kept by the runners, approving everyone's daily pay. It's a job that doesn't leave you filthy and aching at the end of the day, that doesn't risk being crushed by the bedrock above your head. It doesn't appeal to Vander at all but lots of miners would happily work there instead.
"None?" Vander guesses, based on Silco's expression.
"It's company policy. Anyone in debt to the company can't work in the office."
Vander frowns. "You wouldn't all be in debt, would you? You'd pay it off eventually."
"After twenty years, how many of us still have both hands and good vision?" Silco demands, scrambling around to face Vander, hands cutting through the air as he talks. "This place wears you down, it grinds you down until you give up. Until you drink yourself to sleep every night and don't worry about the debt. Or you get drunk enough to miss curfew and the Grey will make sure you don't wake up again. Coal keeps Piltover running, their industry and sparkling lights, and it's fueled with the death and despair of this mine."
It's dangerous, that bright anger in Silco's eyes, but it's also beautiful. Like the gleam of that sharp little knife Silco keeps in his pocket for cutting fuses. Like a roaring fire, flames dancing as it destroys houses. But Silco knows swell as Vander does that there's nothing they can do about it. This is how the world is, unfeeling and unfair, but you know you're alive if you can still be angry about it.
"They sacrifice our lives to keep theirs comfortable," Silco mutters darkly. He closes his eyes and gives a shake of his head, and forces out one slow, steady breath. Vander waits for him to drag that fury and frustration under control.
Silco reaches for his notebook and opens it again. "You need to understand this. This is mostly your money, Vander, so if something happens–"
"I'm not going to care," Vander says, wrapping a hand around Silco's bony knee. "If something happens to you I'm not going to care what the split was."
He gets a crooked smile from Silco, something fond and a little mocking. "That's very sweet, but in three years time when you have someone new on your arm, you'll want to know how much you're owed. You'll want to be able to check that it's right."
Very carefully, Vander takes the notebook from Silco's hands. If it was up to him, he'd just keep a puch of coins and divide it in half if they had to, but if Silco wants to keep lists and details, that's fine too. He closes the notebook and places it out of the way, and then he wraps both arms around Silco and drags his skinny body forward. Silco makes a surprised squawk, but he curls his hands around Vander's shoulders, settling across his lap.
"Enough books," Vander says. "You really think I'm going to find someone prettier than you?"
"In the next few years?" Silco asks sharply, like Vander's the one making ridiculous assumptions. "And pretty is not how most would describe me."
Vander grins, gripping Silco's thighs and pulling him a little closer. "Probably because they're too scared you'll stab them with that sharp little knife of yours."
"Keep talking and I might stab you." It's not the most romantic way to ask for a kiss but Vander obliges him, closes his eye as their mouths meet.
He sucks on Silco's lower lip, dragging it lightly between his teeth. Silco responds by fisting Vander's hair and licking inside his mouth, making the kiss deep and certain.
Then he pulls back. "I thought you wanted to go to the docks?"
"Later," Vander says desperately. "We have the day off. We can do that later."
***
#zaundads#silco is a natural accountant#this was going to be a meet cute in the mines story#the way it's going... it might be a story of the commercial foundation of zaun#my current wip
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Smokin’
Eddie Munson x Reader (18+)
Summary: (reader smokes weed with her crush Eddie, lowered inhibitions lead to shared secrets, smut ensues)
Word Count: 5.8k
Content: she/her pronouns, drugs (don’t do drugs, kids), some cursing, sexual content, p in v sex, unprotected sex, praise during sex, pet names (princess, baby, sweet thing), loss of virginity (reader’s)
Minors DNI pls !!!
Part 2
*~*~*
All she could focus on was the ticking of the clock, digging deeper into her psyche and driving her absolutely crazy that class was not over yet. She wasn’t a bad student, in fact, she did very well in her English class, but right now all she could think about was meeting Eddie out by the abandoned wooden table in the woods, just far enough from the school so nobody would bother them. She was downright jonesing for some of that za.
It didn’t hurt that she had had a crush on the school freak for a while. They shared the senior Calculus class, and if it wasn’t for her letting him brazenly cheat off of all of her work, he wouldn’t even be passing. In the period before her English—the Calculus class—she had slid a note to Eddie that read, Woods after last period? He answered with a subtle nod, and that was that. They had plans to make a sweet deal.
The bell rang, and she scooped up her bag and almost ran out of the classroom, jump-scaring a few peers as she zoomed past them still in their seats. She slipped through the halls towards the exit, darting past all of the high school trope groups and the group-less people who were getting excited for the weekend.
It was a sunny day outside with small fluffy clouds, but still a briskness to the air, making her realize she had left her sweater in her English class in her rush. Well, she thought, I guess it’ll be in the lost and found on Monday.
She snuck past the track field, managing to stay unnoticed by all of the students leaving the school at the same time. Trudging through the forest, she made a game of it to make as little sound as she could, staring at her feet and avoiding twigs and leaves that looked particularly crunchy. She almost won the game in her head, just about to make it to the wooden table...
She hit something sturdy, immediately bouncing backwards and landing hard on her ass. “Ow,” she reacted, then looking up to meet the eyes of the man, the myth, the legend. Eddie Munson.
“Sorry, was I in your way?” he joked, extending out an arm to help her up off of the ground. She accepted it, taking his hand and feeling him yank her up with such ease that it gave her a small headrush coming up so fast.
“Sorry, I was looking at the ground,” she mumbled, following him to join him at the table.
“Yeah, I noticed you do that,” he said. Even when he didn’t mean to, everything he said sounded like flirting, and it only made her more nervous around him. He sat across from her, opening his box and keeping its contents out of view of her. “So... same as usual?”
“Mmm, I think I want more this time. How much can I get for thirty-five?” she asked, pulling a crumpled wad of cash out of her jeans pocket.
“Woah, that’s a lot. You trying to stave off our little visits?” he jokingly asked, although the fastest little glint of sadness shone in his big brown eyes.
“Oh, no, you know these are the highlights of my week,” she mused back, flashing a cheeky grin that had him smiling back immediately. He pulled a bag of bud out of his box, and it was a lot; her eyes were glued to the hefty amount of weed in the plastic bag. She could feel his stare burning her skin as she struggled to meet eyes again. “How much would I have to pay you to roll for me? I’m just not as good at it as you are.”
“Princess, you know flattery is the way to my heart,” he openly flirted, “For you? I’d roll your whole bag for free. Only price is that you’d have to pick up your goods from me later at my place, it’s gonna take some time to roll all of this up.”
The pet name caused her cheeks to burn, and he must have noticed the effect that that had on her because his grin turned deviously large. She managed to stutter out, “Y-yeah, that’d be c-cool.”
“C-cool?” he mocked, eating up her nervousness and having it boost his confidence. “Don’t tell me you're clamming up on me, sweetheart.”
She rolled her eyes, releasing her tension with a breathy chuckle. “Don’t play dumb with me, Munson, you know you’re hot,” she joked, hoping he would drop the subject of her anxiety if she called out the reason for it.
“You think I’m hot?” he asked. His tone had changed from his usual flirtatiousness to actual intrigue. She dropped the cash on the table in front of him, hoping to escape the mess she had created.
“So, where do you live? And when do you want me to meet you there?”
He raised an eyebrow at her, giving her a look that said, So, we’re just gonna skip over what you just admitted? Her unmoving stare answered his question and he moved on, taking her money off of the table and answering her with, “The trailer park. I’m the big silver one. Van outside. You’ll know it when you see it. And... how about nine?”
“Nine’s good,” she uttered, swiftly turning away from the table and taking off in a blushing rush, tucking her hair behind her ears as she power-walked away from the table as fast as she could.
“Alright, see you at nine, princess!” she heard Eddie call from behind.
*~*~*
Nine p.m. had finally rolled around, and she managed to find his trailer in the trailer park. She recognized his van, sweeping her fingers along the side of it as she made her way to his front door. Or, the only door of his trailer.
Admittedly, she had gotten a little dolled up. She didn’t change her outfit, for that would have been way too obvious, but she did add a touch of makeup, just enough to make her eyes pop in the way she likes and make her lip look extra kissable.
Taking in a deep breath, she knocked softly on the door three times. The third knock was cut off by the door swinging open and Eddie’s tall figure stood in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe.
“Hey there, sweet thing, you come here often?” he flirted, tilting his head to the side and looking her up and down obnoxiously. The exaggeration of his attempt at flirting drew a giggle out of her, rewarding Eddie with a sense of satisfaction at making her laugh.
“Got the goods?” she asked, taking a step towards the door, and he moved out of her way to let her in. She scanned over the piles of cassettes and VHS tapes, noting his abundance of horror movies and metal music, which she had expected. The smell of cigarettes and dust lingered in the air, which she didn’t mind at all. She’d never admit it because of all the medical propaganda her family dumped on her, but she thought it was cool that he smoked cigarettes. She had seen him lighting up a few times before in his van while leaving school, and she just couldn’t deny what seeing that little stick hanging from his lips did to her.
“Yeah, uh, sorry about the mess,” he said, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. She had never seen him be bashful before, and heart did a little leap as she had found it endearing.
“It’s fine, Eddie. I can promise my bedroom is much worse,” she joked, still looking around his trailer. She hadn’t realized it, but he noticed that that was the first time she had ever referred to him as Eddie. To everyone but his club, he was always Munson, always the freak. His heart did a leap too in that moment.
“Oh! I got your goods in here,” he said, dipping away to fetch the baggie of joints he had pre-rolled for her. Damn, he was right. That was a lot of joints. She stared at the bag in awe.
Being in his home must have given her a small sense of confidence, because she proceeded to nervously ask him, “Um... if it’s not too much to ask, would you like to smoke one with me...?”
He stared at her with an indecipherable expression. She couldn’t tell if he was deciding for or against smoking with her, and she broke eye contact and looked down as a nervous habit. She started to backtrack, “Y-you don’t have to, I just—”
“Fuck, yeah. I’d love to.” He dropped a big dimply grin, infecting her with the giggles.
He opened the bag and pulled one of the neatly rolled joints out before zipping it closed and passing it back to her. She put the baggie of joints in her bag quickly, pulling out her own small bright blue handheld lighter. She gave the lighter to Eddie before mentioning, “Don’t forget to give that back, it’s my only lighter.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess,” he answered smugly before extending an arm in a silent invitation to sit on the couch, and she obliged. She sank down on the old couch, and it felt more comfortable than her own couch at home. He plopped down next to her hard, rocking her and the couch, before holding the joint out for her to take. “You go first,” he said, tilting his head down to look at her with a devilish grin.
“Gladly,” she said, leaning forward and catching the end of the joint on her lips, taking it from him without using her hands. “Light me up?” she asked through the joint on her lips.
“Gladly,” he returned, using her wording against her. He held the little blue lighter to the end of the joint, flicking the gear and igniting it. She hovered over the flame for a moment before pulling back to breathe it in, puffing on the joint heavily before Eddie swiftly grabbed it from her lips.
The burn in her lungs felt like a warm tingle spreading through the inside of her chest, but it was the burn in her throat that made her cough. She coughed an embarrassing amount, her face and eyes turning red from it. “Hey, it’s supposed to be puff puff pass,” she whined in a manner that conveyed she wasn’t serious, but her mangled voice was what made Eddie laugh.
He gave a dark chuckle before saying, “Like you’d say no to me, sweetheart.” He held her gaze intensely as he hit the joint, taking in a deep puff before letting out a billowing cloud of smoke, blowing the smoke into her face teasingly. She laughed at his gesture, waving away the cloud.
After they had gone back and forth, taking turns of the joint until it was just a roach, she put the roach down on the ashtray on his coffee table. Eddie had some of his music playing as they were both leaning back against the couch, heads staring at the ceiling as they felt the weed kick in.
She began to feel fuzzy, her body feeling so heavy like it was sinking further into the couch. She let out a light stoner laugh as she felt the tingles spread down to her fingertips and toes, feeling her brain swirl around like the room was spinning. The voice of her consciousness sounded out loud, and her speaking voice sounded too quiet like it was in her head. But her absolute favorite part of getting high was the sense that she truly had no other care in the world, just bliss and fuzziness and oversaturated colors. It felt like peace.
“This shit fucks so hard, Eddie,” she said, her brain confused to if she even said those words aloud.
She lazily tilted her head towards him, watching with heavy eyes as he stared at the ceiling. She couldn’t help but stare. It was definitely the weed heightening this thought, but she couldn’t help but notice how pretty he was. His big brown eyes with the long eyelashes, his dimples that suited his cheeks so well, his sharp jaw and strong chin, and oh, those plump, kissable lips.
“Eddie...?” she whispered, pulling his gaze from the ceiling to her.
“Yeah, princess?”
His eyes were so red. She would have laughed if she wasn’t about to say, “Has anyone ever told you how pretty you are?”
He laughed slower than usual, so she could tell he was deep in his high like she was. Their conversation felt like it was happening underwater, and his voice tickled her ears as he replied, “Damn it, babe, I was supposed to call you pretty first.”
She felt the laughter bubble in her chest first, slowly erupting from her mouth, her brain feeling disconnected from the process. “Beat you to it. Sucks to suck, Munson.”
His eyes drooped, and he glanced at her lips before looking back into her eyes. “You are, y’know. Pretty.”
She looked away out of habit before giving a huff. “Yeah, right.”
“I’m serious,” he said, turning his body so he was facing her. “I was surprised you even wanted to smoke with me. Hell, I’m surprised you even wanted to buy from me. The cute girl in my Calculus class wanted to buy from me? How did I get so lucky?”
She turned her body so she was facing him, leaning her swirling head against the couch. Her eyeballs felt fuzzy as she looked up at him with doe eyes. “You think I’m the cute girl in class? You dummy, I think you’re the cute boy in class. Why do you think I let you cheat off of my work?”
His eyes stared deeply into hers, and he glanced at her lips briefly again. This time, she returned the favor by glancing at his. She felt her heart racing in her chest, every thump echoed through her body until her extremities felt numb. He placed his large hand on the side of her face, and the coolness of the rings were like a shock to her as he swiped over her lips with his thumb. His touch felt electrifying, as if every nerve cell in her body was magnetized to his skin. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, in the softest tone she had ever heard from his lips.
“You fucking better,” she joked and was immediately pulled in. When their lips met, it felt like fireworks were going off inside of her. Tingles shot up the back of her neck and crept up the base of her skull, capturing her in pure bliss as Eddie’s lips melted into her own. She could taste the weed and hint of cigarettes in his mouth, and she could hear the heavy breathing from his nose against her face. It was all she ever dreamed of, plus some. She had never enjoyed kissing other boys, mushing mouths always felt so awkward and unnatural. But with Eddie, now, all she wanted was to feel the soft fleshy wet mess of tongue against tongue. Her heightened sensations from the weed mixed with her established crush on Eddie had her already giving out soft moans into his mouth, and she could just feel him smile against her mouth in return. She felt his big warm hands place themselves on her waist, and she leaned in further, pressing her chest against his.
She didn’t even feel when her hands had moved to grip his Hellfire Club shirt until he pulled back. “Damn, why have we never done this before?” he said in a deep husky voice.
“Because I get nervous,” she said, feeling the words spill out before she had time to think of a proper response. She looked down and fiddled with the neckline of his shirt before saying, “And because this weed’s got me feeling brave, Eddie.”
“Just how brave are we talking?” he asked, thinking she wouldn’t notice his quick glance down at her body. She did notice. In that moment, her body felt hot to the touch, and then the weed did something it had never done before. Maybe she had just never been horny and high at the same time, but the way the pot in her system sent her body into maximum overdrive at the way Eddie eyed her body had her throbbing hard in her jeans. Her nerves were ablaze everywhere, especially there, and she could just feel her underwear becoming increasingly more damp the longer she stared at him.
“Really brave,” she muttered, unable to speak above a whisper due to the intense craving her body was feeling. He flashed that dimply grin like he knew she couldn’t resist it and moved his hands to cup her face. She let her neck go lax, melting into his touch and letting him hold the weight of her head. His hands felt so hot against her face, and then he leaned in so close that his lips brushed against hers as he spoke.
“You ever fucked a future rockstar?” he inquired, his eyes looking darker and deeper than ever.
A chill ran down her spine at his words, and a let out a shaky exhale before admitting, “I’ve haven’t ever fucked.”
He immediately dropped his charismatic persona, pulling back with a look of concern in his eyes. “I’d offer, but I don’t think it would be right to... deflower you... in such a state...” He began to trail off, but she put a finger to his lips.
“Eddie, right now, I’ve never wanted anything else so god damn bad,” she said, unable to take her eyes off of his perfect plump lips. “Only reason I never have is because I’ve never liked anyone else this much.”
She watched as his lips morphed from a concerned flat line back into that devilish smile she liked to see so much. It infected her, making her smile wide as well, and the tip of her finger felt like it was buzzing as she traced along his smiling lips with her finger. The underwater feeling returned as she leaned up to bring his lips back into a kiss, laying back on the couch and pulling him down with her so that he was laying on top of her and kissing her.
“Damn, you really do get brave when you smoke,” he chuckled, and the deep chuckle rumbled in her ears as she caught his lips again, opening her mouth to invite him into hers. His tongue slid across hers, feeling hot and slimy, and she loved it, returning the gesture. She felt him slowly drop all of his body weight onto hers, and the pressure against her lower abdomen caused her to let out a small gasp into his mouth. He felt her gasp, taking a sense of pride in being the one to make her feel this way and pressed himself against her again, feeling his own excitement start to build.
She spread her knees apart, allowing him to lay between her legs, and he willingly obliged to taking the position, sliding his denim-clad crotch against hers. The friction of him pressing the seam of her jeans into her elicited the smallest moan from her, and Eddie repeated this against but harder, fulling grinding into her as their mouths danced and his clothed erection rubbed against her. Her fingers found their way into his long hair, her nails accidentally scratching against his scalp, making him groan into her mouth. The sounds and feelings that he was giving her welded together in a fuzzy entanglement, making her already spinning head feel like she was on air. She felt his warm hands snake down from her face down to the hem of her shirt, dipping his fingers underneath the fabric to brush against her hot skin. The sudden coldness of the rings made her slightly jump, and he pulled back, worry apparent on his face. His eyes nonverbally asked, Is this too much?
“Sorry, your rings are just cold,” she giggled, before taking the initiative to lift her own shirt over her head, revealing the black bra underneath. Truth be told, after school she had switched into her fancier undergarments in the hopes that something would happen between them. And she was appreciative to her past self for making that decision. He stared in awe at her chest, all pushed together by the tight black bra and looking extra plump in the dim trailer lighting. He took the chance to bury his face in her cleavage, sucking and smacking on the soft flesh, leaving little reddish purple spots in his wake, causing her to moan and lightly buck her hips up. She was already turned on, but now she just felt like an animal in heat, all wet and needy for him. He pulled a nipple out of its bra cup and took it into his mouth, swirling his tongue softly on the hardened bud, and she felt waves of tingles flow through her body, half from the high and half from the pleasure he was bringing her just from sucking on her naked skin. When she had gripped his hair so hard she was worried she’d accidentally yank it out, he grinned against her soft skin, just knowing how he was affecting her untouched body.
“That feel good, princess?” he whispered, releasing her nipple from his mouth, pulling back to look in her eyes. He had never seen her, or anyone, look so desperate and needy. Hell, she would have begged if he told her to. She looked up at him with pleading doe eyes, and he just melted at the sight. “C’mon, baby, use your words.” His deep voice dripped like honey into her ears, and she felt the shift in her core that made her need some friction down there.
She whispered back, “Please keep touching me.”
He chuckled and with a teasing voice said, “Oh, baby, you think that is me touching you? You don’t even know.”
He unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, pulling them down her thighs until she lifted her legs above his head so that he could pull them off of her calves. He threw the jeans on the floor next to her shirt, keeping her legs up with his hands. She didn’t realize she was panting as he slid his hands down her legs, letting them drop on either side of him while he gazed tenderly at her damp panties.
“Already so wet for me, baby? That’s so sweet of you,” he teased, hooking his finger under the wet patch and pulling her underwear to the side. She gawked at him unabashedly as he swiped his fingers up her wet slit, his fingers feeling cold against her heat. She whimpered at the cold sensation, accidentally bucking her hips. The high had left her brain and traveled south, making her body feel abuzz as he rubbed up and down her slit a couple of times, barely grazing the sensitive nub at the top.
“God, you’re so hot,” she heard him say, but her eyes screwed shut at the sensation of her throbbing cunt being touched so gently. When she felt a finger prod her hole, she gasped, letting him know she was very ready to be entered. A thick finger entered her, and she moaned loudly as he pushed his finger all the way in, his thumb still rubbing up and down. He slowly pulled out and pushed back in his finger, choosing to add a second one. The second finger made her feel the slight stretch, and she moaned louder at the sensation. He started pumping his fingers in and out of her, starting a new building sensation in her core. The faster he pumped, the more he bumped that sensitive nub with his thumb, and that feeling inside of her felt like something deep was about to explode. She unashamedly rutted her hips against his hand, letting out more whimpers and moans than she ever had before in her life. And just as she teetered the edge of that sinfully delicious explosion, he stopped completely, pulling his fingers out of her and leaving her a panting, soaking mess.
Her throat hitched, releasing an audible whine, making Eddie laugh. He leaned over her, his painfully hard but fully covered erection hovering over her sopping heat, and said, “Now see, baby, that was me touching you.”
She was speechless and desperate, needing any sort of attention back on her tingling loins. “Will you please fuck me?” she timidly asked, relinquishing any morsel of control she had and completely throwing the ball in his court.
“Of course, princess,” he said with a wink. He paused to sit up and look around the small living room of the trailer before declaring, “But not here.”
“Not here?” she breathed out.
“C’mere, we’re going to my room,” he said, lifting himself quickly off of the couch before turning around to swoop down and suddenly lift her off of the cozy furniture, bridal-style. She reveled in the romance of it all, feeling most definitely like a princess with her handsome knight in shining armor, freely laughing as he carried her to his little room.
Eddie’s bedroom smelled a lot more like weed than his living room, and she could guess where he smoked most of the time. Metal and rock posters lined the walls, and towers of cassettes, books, and VHS tapes littered the floor.
He ducked down to lay her down gently on the bed before yanking his Hellfire club shirt over his head quickly and tossing it on a pile of discarded clothes on the floor. She stared at his bare torso, admiring his tattoos, and he just ate it up. He smiled before dropping himself down on the bed over her. “You ready for more, sweetheart?”
"Yes,” she blurted out with zero hesitation, eagerly nodding and eyeing the tent in his jeans hungrily. He followed her line of sight, smirking to himself when he realized she was staring straight at his boner. He leaned back, looking down to undo his jeans before he shimmied them off, letting the tent in his boxers swing free, before throwing his jeans onto the pile of clothes to join his shirt. He then resumed his place, crawling over her as she laid back on his bed, his clothed erection grazing her legs and then her abdomen as he climbed up her body. Using his forearms to hover over her, she dug her fingers into his hair and pulled him into a steamy kiss. As their mouths meshed together again, he steadily lowered himself so that their half-naked bodies were flush against each other, and she could feel his stiffness nestle right into the crotch of her panties, making her let out a shaky breath.
He slithered his large hands down her body before reaching her underwear, hooking his fingers into the sides before pulling from the kiss to ask, “Can I take these off?”
“Only if you say please,” she joked, mentally slapping herself for choosing this moment to toss in a joke. But, like the good sport he was, Eddie was quick to respond.
“Please, oh please, may I take thy panties off?” he mused back, but looked confounded when he saw her flinch. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re very hot, Eddie, but please don’t use the word panties. It just feels so weird when guys say it.”
“Panties.”
“Eddie, I’m serious. It feels icky.”
“Panties.”
“Dude!”
“Panties!” he yelled, waving his hands in her face and laughing hard at the cringing expression on her face. She couldn’t help but join in his laugh, being able to look at their conversation in a different light, and seeing how ridiculous they sounded.
She sighed, shaking her head in an endeared manner as she said, “Fine. Thou may remove mine panties,” returning the joke of Old English speak.
He gave an exaggerated groan and said, “God, you’d do so well in DnD. That’s so hot.”
“Ist thou removing mine panties, or what?” she asked flatly, hoping to get back on track to their sexual shenanigans.
“Oh! Right, yes,” he said before theatrically yanking down her underwear and tossing them over his shoulder. All of the laughing and giggling stopped when he laid eyes on her sopping cunt. She could just see his erection strain against the thin fabric of his boxers. He pulled them down, letting his boner spring free, and his length slapped against her thigh. She hadn’t expected it, but the boy was hung. She gawked at his long extremity, and he let her, taking pride in her jaw dropping. She looked back up into his eyes and smiled when he asked, “You ready?”
“Mhm,” she mumbled before wrapping her hand around his member, but he put his hand over hers to stop her, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
“Woah, wait, do we need a condom?” he asked, gingerly stroking his thumb over her hand.
She shook her head, “I’m on the pill, Eddie.”
He grinned in response, before taking the reins to line the tip up to her still-soaking entrance. When he started to push in, she felt the swirling feeling coming back to her head, and she couldn’t tell if she was still so high or if this was a new feeling, being already cock-drunk on Eddie. The stretch of him felt sharp for a moment, but she felt too blissful to react to it, pulling his head down to attach her lips to his once more. Their mouths hung open against each other’s as he fully sheathed himself in her, and this time she did let a small whimper of pain escape. Her pain immediately dissolved into pleasure as she adjusted to his size.
When he began to move inside of her, starting slow as he pulled out and pushed back in ever so gently, she was still a moaning mess, moaning against his open mouth.
“That feel good, baby?” he asked, and his words had never felt so sugary sweet. All she could do was moan in response, her moan raising in pitch as it caught in her throat. He broke their kiss to watch her face, her expression conveying euphoria as he slid in and out of her. Her tight walls felt so good on his cock; he would have finished then and there if he wasn’t so focused on her. He snuck a hand down between their bodies, searching for her sensitive little nub, and once he found it and began drawing small circles around it with his finger, she could feel that building sensation return. And he could tell from her moans getting progressively louder. He wanted her first time to be everything she could have wished for, so he started to pick up his pace and thrusted harder and faster into her, keeping his finger steady on her clit.
Sparks were shooting through her body, centered around her lower abdomen, and she wrapped her legs around Eddie to keep him closer, even though she knew he wasn’t going anywhere. The steady circling around her clit became sloppy as he let himself pound into her hard, and she felt his member reach impossible depths inside of her. The faster and harder pace of his cock sliding in and out of her, stretching her from the inside out, had her digging her nails hard into Eddie’s shoulder blades as she felt her hips begin to chase that tension building in her. She let herself get lost in the pleasure of it all, the tingles in her brain all the way down to her fingers and toes mixed with the waves of pleasure coming from her abdomen had her toes curling and her eyes squeezed shut. She felt her walls begin to squeeze tighter as the tension inside of her began to reach its peak, like a string about to snap.
She suddenly felt her face being grabbed by a strong hand, her jaw entirely encapsulated. “Look at me,” his voice demanded, and she opened her eyes pitifully, giving him the eye contact he wanted. Eddie had always been so silly, such a tease. It was shocking yet so deeply arousing to hear such sternness in his voice. “I wanna see it in your face when I make you come.”
“Eddie,” she whimpered, “I think I’m gonna—”
“I know, baby, I can feel it. Be a good girl and come for me.”
And with his words, that string inside of her snapped, and she let out a squealing moan as she experienced her orgasm in waves, feeling her walls pulsate and stretch over his cock while her body went completely lax. He continued to pound through it all, letting out aggressive grunts as he thrusted through the clenching of her walls, giving her continuous echoes of her orgasm until his pace stuttered. He released a gentle moan with his own release, prolonging it with extra pushes into her until he felt his own hot liquid seep out of her tight hole that was clenched around his member. He pulled out slowly, and she whined at the sudden emptiness inside of her.
“God damn,” he huffed with a tired smile before dropping his body onto hers, burying his face in her naked chest. She giggled at this, playing with his hair and scratching her nails over his scalp.
They stayed like that for a good long moment, basking in their post-coital bliss, until she noticed the clock next his bed. She read the time with a gasp. “Oh my god, it’s like three in the morning! Shit, I gotta get home.”
They climbed out of Eddie’s bed reluctantly, gathering their clothes from his bedroom floor and from the living room floor. They hadn’t spoken a word yet, both too nervous to wreck the good thing they had going, until Eddie couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Okay, so... I guess I’ll see you on Monday?” he asked, not sure of what to say but wanting to desperately to beg to spend more time with her.
“Yeah,” she shrugged, before pausing a long moment to suggest, “or we could hang out like tomorrow, or technically later today... Uh, if you’re not busy...”
He absolutely beamed at her words. She did want to spend more time with him. He felt excitement blossom in his chest as their little situation felt like the beginning of something special. “Tomorrow—er, later today—would be awesome.”
She let out a nervous, breathy chuckle. “Cool.”
“Cool,” he repeated back to her. They fell into silence again, but it was comfortable silence this time.
“I, uh,” she began, gesturing to the door.
“Oh! Yes, of course,” he said, stepping out of her way and opening the door for her. When he opened the door, the cold night air hit her like a ton of bricks and she shivered, regretting leaving her sweater in class earlier that day.
He witnessed her slight shiver, instantly saying, “Wait right here,” before dipping away to grab something from his bedroom. He came back with his iconic denim and leather jacket, offering it to her. “It’s really cold out tonight,” he shrugged, like giving her his jacket was no big deal.
“I can’t take your jacket,” she said, attempting to politely decline.
He hung it on her shoulders and said, “Well, you can give it back later,” both as a way to make her more comfortable but also as a way to express that he hopes she sticks to their plans.
“Okay,” she breathed, “and you’ll have to give back my lighter.”
And with that, she was on her way home with plans to see Eddie tomorrow.
*~*~*
A/N: my first Eddie fic !!! Part of me wants to do a part 2 so bad, but pls let me know how u feel about it omg <3 lov u guys
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永别了,亲爱的 Farewell, My Beloved
Long overdue since Qingming has long since pass (oops).
Blade x gn! Reader
Takes place in game — not canon though
Warning: Chinese is used (English translation provided), angst hurt no comfort (first time writing this angsty)
Please read to the end for credits and reference.
━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━
Shoes echoes through the barren halls. The figure moves through the doorway, his steps slow. And then he stops. Right in front of the wall of name plaques. His red eyes scanned the whole wall, searching for a particular name and walking to it right as he spots it. He carefully pulls out a clean cloth — and with care, wiped down the plaque. It didn’t need to be cleaned, as workers everyday made sure all plaques are cleaned out of respect. Once he was done, he placed the bouquet of white chrysanthemums in front of it then sits down.
The figure couldn’t help but think of their death. Of the three that had to pay a price, he alone had to pay the biggest. He made a promise to them and he broke it. The what ifs began to speed through his head. He’s died once, and he wants to die again. He wishes he can be with them in the afterlife. That is, if Mengpo doesn’t make him drink her soup. Not that he could see them anyway. Not after what he’s done.
He places two cups and pulls out a jar of wine. After filling both cups, he took his and raised it — drinking it all after.
“I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said to them, “I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.”
He wants to apologize but no matter what he says, he knows no explanation could cut it. It was his error in action. In emotion. There was no way words can express his regrets.
“我与你的记忆损乱了,“ a tear slips from his eye, “你长得什么样,我也记不了了。我也记不住你的声音了。我只能记得你的名字,但也记不了多久了。“ [Memories of me and you have been messed up… The way that you looked, I cannot remember. I also cannot remember your voice. I only remember your name, but I cannot remember that for long either.]
The figure sat in silence for a bit before starting once more, “当年,如果不是我,也不是丹枫的话,你今日该会是什么样了?你还会像以前一样跟景元玩象棋吗?跟丹枫看书?跟镜流和白珩逛街?或者跟我练功?” he drank another cup full of wine, “可惜,三个付出代价去了,一个早已离去,最后一个孤独的留在了罗浮。不知你和白珩有没有相遇。我想是。我们当时挣扎了好久,现在平安多了。你若在的话,肯定会喜欢现在罗浮的环境。“ [That year, if it wasn’t for me, and Dan Feng, what would you have been like today? Would it be like it was then, with you playing xiangqi with Jing Yuan? Reading with Dan Heng? Shopping with Jing Liu and Baiheng? Or would you have been sparring with me? …. Sadly, three paid a price, one has departed, and the last one is left lonely on Luofu. I don’t know if you and Baiheng have caught up. I’d like to think you guys did. Our time was so messy, but Luofu today is much peaceful. If you were here, you’d definitely like Luofu today.]
Amidst his rambling, another figure approached. She stood right behind him, gazing up on the plaque.
“It’s time you wrap it up, Bladie.”
Blade hummed in acknowledgment, “Just a little more time.”
The lady stared at him a bit longer before sighing and heading out, saying she’ll be waiting for him at the entrance. After he was sure he was alone again, he spoke softly.
“是时候该走了。如果我没有捅你一刀,你今天应该还会在吧。对不起,这是我最后一次能看你了。仙舟没有我的地方了。在这个人生里,可能再也不会有人像你一样叫我的名字了。我永远也不可能是应星了。” [It’s time I should get going. If I didn’t stab you that day, you would probably still be here. I’m sorry, this is my last time seeing you. There’s no longer a place for me on Xianzhou. In this life, there will be no one to say my name the way you do. And I will never be able to be Yingxing anymore.]
Blade gets up and places the jar of wine next to the filled cup. After, he bows to the name plaque three times. Then, he turns and walks out of the room — leaving Luofu till his death arrives.
永别了。。。[Farewell…]
亲爱的。[My beloved.]
─── ∙ ↤THE END↦ ∙ ─---
I've been thinking, should I make banners specifically for the characters I write? Or would that be too much? Cuz right now, I can't decide on a banner for each story.
Qingming 清明: Called Tomb-Sweeping day in the west. People visit the graves of their deceased love ones. Even going as far as cleaning and retouching graves. It’s customary to offer food and wine (or other beverages they loved).
White Chrysanthemums: White flowers, mainly white chrysanthemums are placed during funeral and the dead. Don’t gift these to people please (unless you desperately wish for that person to perish).
Mengpo 孟婆: A deity in the underworld that gives passing souls her specialty called 孟婆汤 (mengpo soup) that would wipe their memories for their journey in their next life.
Bowing three times: I was taught this at a young age, but when bowing to gods and ancestors, you bow three times. Usually it’s very quick, but I like to take it slow (cuz I think it shows deeper respect).
#hsr x reader#honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#blade x reader#yingxing x reader#hsr yingxing#hsr blade x you#hsr blade x reader#hsr blade#hsr angst#blade angst#honkai star rail blade#honkai star rail angst#blade x you
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