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gaysindistress · 2 months

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Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Simon Riley.

Simon Riley masterlist

1. First off he hates the word ‘boyfriend’.

Maybe it’s because he’s in his mid thirties or something but he can’t stand being called your boyfriend. He’s more than that but also not at the same time. You live together, have access to each other’s bank accounts (which is only because he hates it when you try to fight him about him giving you money), and you’re each others emergency contact. He thinks of himself as your husband. The man wears a silicone ring when he’s home and a necklace with the ring that’s totally not a wedding band when he’s working. Price has seen the chain once or twice and smirks, shooting him a knowing look but never says a word.

Simon cannot stand it when people get nosy and want to know what your relationship status is. You’re together and that’s all that matters. No one needs to know that you’re the beneficiary of his will and life insurance policy or that he’s put you on all of his accounts. No one needs to know that he buys you anything you want but has only ever bought you two rings; a thin gold band with a flower engraved on it and its twin a matching emerald ring. No one needs to know that when he gifted them to you, there were tears and promises of safety, love, and happiness whispered against feverish skin. No one needs to know that he has your name woven into his chest tattoo.

No one needs to know any of that because your relationship is between him and you only.

2. You are not some submissive little house wife. You are a strong independent woman and he prefers it that way.

I know this one goes against what most people say but hear me out on this. Simon has been independent since birth practically. He’s only had himself to count on for years. Even in the military, he’s only been able to rely himself. Sure the others watch out for him but if it came down to it, he’s the only one who’s going to get himself out alive.

The thought of someone else relying on him in that way is terrifying. He can’t even fathom what it would be like to look at another person and fully trust them in that way. Half the time he feels like he can’t even be trusted to take care of himself let alone another human. In theory a sweet docile housewife is great with the meals and clean house but not for him. He needs to know that you can hold your own. He needs to know that you can be independent and carry on without him if something happened while he was working. He needs to know that you will be okay if he doesn’t come back.

You have to be okay without him no matter how much it pains him to think about it.

Like I said before, he’s made you the beneficiary of everything so he knows you’ll be set financially but that’s not enough. He’s made Price promise to keep an eye out for you. He’s made you promise to let Price do that and you agreed because it’s Simon who’s asking but you’d tell anyone else to fuck off.

In addition to all of that, he’s installed the best security system the government has to offer in your house. You have a very expensive and large safe in your shared closet that he’s instructed you to only open if you feel unsafe. While you might not like it, you agree to go shooting with him so he can sleep at night knowing that you could protect yourself if he’s not home. He’s gone as far as to make sure you have all of the licenses and certificates that are needed to legally own firearms in the UK.

He’s not leaving any opportunity for you to be vulnerable or have your ‘safety checks’, as he calls them, taken away.

3. Simon Riley is a godless man…until he meets you.

Now this is entirely my own headcannon with no evidence to support it so bear with me.

Simon had a shitty childhood where his mom would pray to a god who never listened and his dad would shout verses at him when he was drunk. God was a mythical figure that he was told stories off with nothing to show for it. He did believe at one point but then his dad never got better, his mom wore bruises of every shade, and his brother found comfort in drugs.

He found himself praying when he was being tortured by the Mexican cartel. Between the flashbacks of his abusive past, he prayed to a god who had failed him so many times before to help him. He prayed again as he dug himself out of that Texas grave with the major’s jaw bone. He wailed his prayers when he found his family executed after Sparks tried to kill him.

After that he deemed himself a Godless man. Years of praying had passed with nothing. This god had decided that Simon was not worthy of a miracle so why would he continue to worship him?

That was until he met you. He finds himself praying before every mission, every time he has to leave you, every time he’s on his way home, and just about any other time he thinks of you. He doesn’t know what exactly he’s praying for other than for you to be there when he gets back.

He whispers his prayers to an absent god against your skin as he worships your body, soul, and heart. He promises to be devoted to you until his last breath and vows to find you again in whatever afterlife awaits you. He pledges to find solace in you and only you when his haunting nightmares return. He makes an oath to your heart that it will never weather another storm alone again for his will take whatever beating that comes your way. He shows you that he will love you in the same manner as a Hozier song; putting you above all else because you have become his religion, his faith, his beliefs, his life.

You have become all that he is and he thanks the god he once believed in for you. He prays again but to you, his heart, his love, and his beacon through the enteral storm of life.

#simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost imagine #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost #ghost x female reader

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irndad · 1 month

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won't you be my sunshine-a.h.

a/n: runner!hotch x sunshine!reader !! sooooo fluffy, first hotch fic of mine so be gentle with me! lots of pining and happy end <3 happy to continue with these two in an au!

Aaron Hotchner is not a particularly emotive man.

This is a skill he has honed, a cherished quality that was not born of luck or of natural ability, but a skill that he has honed down to a fine tip point. He needs to be, in this job. It’s cost him things, of course, but for the most part, Aaron is happy with his choices. He takes a firm line with people he works with, and does not always let up in his personal life.

The only time this sometimes causes a hitch, is in his romantic life.

Which isn’t to say that he has one.

There is a woman who reads in the park every morning. Aaron affectionately thinks of this bench as her bench, as it is marked by wisterias and hyacinths on either end of it. It’s something of a ritual, after his runs, that they talk.

It’s fun. He doesn’t have a lot of space for fun. He’d collapsed on the bench one day after siphoning his anger at a particular case into a difficult run. He’d crashed onto the bench, sweaty and exhausted and hadn’t even seen her there. Which is a bit impressive, as she’s hard to miss the sight of. It is also in equal measure embarrassing. It’s not every day you collapse in front of a gorgeous woman, disturbing her from what is likely a lovely afternoon in the park.

That’s how it started, anyway. She doesn’t run, so each break is punctuated by her company. He’s actually not sure if they’re flirting. He’s not very good at that- the last time he has to he was 17 and so full of unearned confidence, he lucked into a partnership.

Now, he’s a bit older and a lot more scarred. She’s younger than him, not by much. She laughs with her whole chest at his dry, glib humor- and this is something Aaron had forgotten. The joy of a beautiful, wonderful woman’s company beside you.

He feels a little out of place next to her. Romance is not something he does. Ever thought he’d do again, really. That’s not to say that this is romance. Their romance is almost entirely hypothetical. He thinks of her at work, which is a monumental development in and of itself.

“So, how was the paperwork? I know you’ve been taking a little more on since your colleague had a baby. It’s so kind of you to do it.” She asks him on a beautiful August morning.

He fights off a blush that she remembers what he’s done for JJ. He’s not big on mentioning his own good deeds. Aaron believes that this would cancel it out. Still, her praise is a warm balm to the exhaustion that plagues him. It’s hedonistic, the way he wants her to say more about him. He wonders absentmindedly if she knew everything about him that’s hard to love, she’d still paint him with such a light and warm glance. She’s bright enough, he’s tempted to tell her everything about him just because she asks.

“It was…alright. My team is excellent. I’m lucky to work with people like them, it makes the process better. I couldn’t ask for more.”

She giggles a little at this, and there’s that roar of affection.

He feels a sense of ease around her, one that is suspicious for him. He tries not to romanticize, but this connection is hard not to. She’s beautiful- this is obvious to anyone who meets her, a simple truth of her. But Aaron is trained to notice things little factors that show the truth of someone.

He likes to watch her- it’s a pleasant thing, getting to be in her presence. It’s a little addicting, the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like all of the things he knows to be true of himself- his relative failures, the closed-off nature of his demeanor- are things that not only can be overlooked, but don’t seem to be in her line of sight at all. It’s an honor, to have her doe eyes rake over the sight of him, to meet him with gentle conversation.

He tries not to notice that she is gorgeous. Aaron has been around beautiful women, of course- this is not something that should surprise him. But there’s something effervescent about her, something that his him wondering if it’s possible that she might feel the same way about him. He knows that he used to be a more attractive man, but now. Well, he’s a bit bruised, both metaphorically and physically.

It feels odd to even think of this happening. She’s just got a warm, sweet tone and he replays what it’s like when she greets him. She smiles her brilliant grin and sometimes hugs him. It’s embarrassing how much he likes the feeling of it- soft curves against hard muscle and scarred skin. She always smells wonderful, and he wonders how nice it would be to have more of this.

“I like your new shirt, by the way.” She smiles at him, and his heart jumps. It feels juvenile, but- she’s wearing a new lipstick, it seems. Her beautiful pout looks awfully tempting.

“I like the lip color,” he tries to compliment back amenably, but that doesn’t stick. Instead, it comes out too earnest. He’s hyper aware of the fact that she’s right by him. She flushes, and Aaron feels a surge of pride.

“Thank you,” she says, voice softer and flattered, and isn’t that a pretty sound? He’d love to do that for her, make her feel seen, make her feel like she’s as beautiful as she is, “I thought you might like it.”

It’s her directiveness that breaks the seal, he supposes looking back. Because she wore the lipstick for him. That’s just about the only thing it can mean, and he is struck with a particularly sensory fantasy of what it would be like to slot his mouth against hers- he gets the feeling it might be worth it even if he gets the color on his mouth.

He’s a gentleman, though, he decides after a decidedly ungentlemanly amount of time spend staring at the gorgeous curve of her lips.

“Would you want to get dinner with me?” He hears himself say it before he’s processed it, and then it’s out into the world. His heart is hammering and he’s blaming on the run, when god, it’s absolutely about how breathtaking she looks, the sunlight reflecting off her hair like a halo. When she beams back at him, she looks particularly angelic.

It’s then, she leans over and kisses him on the cheek.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

(Months later, when she is sitting on his kitchen counter and he is standing between her legs, gazing down at her with unabated fondness because he is entitled to that, he reflects on this moment and thinks god, how lucky am I, that I ran past that bench?)

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babydollmarauders · 6 months

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OUT — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

summary: in which everyone has been wondering about the hair tie on Jack’s wrist, and they finally get the answers they were looking for

notes: THANK YOU MADDY ( @thatintrovertedwriter ) FOR THIS IDEA!!! I’M OBSESSED WITH IT!! not proofread and written while heavily sleep deprived

a relationship was never part of my intentions when i accepted my job offer.

in fact, any sort of love was pushed to the far corners of my mind. my focus was on showing everyone that not only men can be equipment managers in the NHL.

i had gone through so much rejection. countless teams citing that they decided to go in a different direction, and hiring a male for the job instead; and though most of the staff would try to deny that my gender was a part of it, there was always that one guy that had no problem with admitting they didn’t believe that a woman had any place in the NHL.

as if the job was hard. as if i couldn’t hand players sticks just as well as any man could.

but then the New Jersey Devils came into play. they had heard some talk about me and were the first team to reach out to me. they offered me the job, and i eagerly accepted. i felt i had something to prove. my gender doesn’t diminish the performance of my job.

so most of the 2022-23 season, i put all my focus into my job. i was amicable with the players, making sure i knew any superstitions or things i shouldn’t do with their equipment, but i never let it pass into any real level of friendship.

and then Jack Hughes happened.

when he got injured and had to sit out for a few games, i was put in charge of keeping him company. for four games my job description changed from handing players new sticks, to babysitting a twenty-one year old, and i wasn’t happy in the slightest.

it felt insulting, and apparently Jack felt the same way. somehow in those four games, we went from sitting across the suite from each other, to bonding over how stupid it was that i couldn’t do my actual job, to forming a friendship.

and in a matter of weeks, our friendship blossomed into something more.

it started with him coming back to my apartment after rough games, watching movies and letting off steam by joking around and playing drinking games. then along the way, we stumbled into bed. one hookup turned into two, which turned into another, which turned into a date, and finally by the end of the season, he was asking me to be his girlfriend.

it took me a week to finally tell him yes. an entire week of struggling with the decision. wondering if, if i start a real relationship with this player, am i proving all those men who told me i had no place in the NHL, right? but ultimately, i decided that my happiness was worth more than someone’s opinion of me, and i told him yes.

***

jackhughes

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subbanator 🚀

user83 is he wearing… a pink hair tie on his wrist?

user45 where?

user83 it’s on the same wrist with his bracelets

user16 omg you’re right

user02 is his hair even long enough to put up?

user77 @/user02 apparently

user91 what if it’s a girlfriends? oh my god

brendan.brisson Same time next year

***

i’m running late.

i’m running late and i’m rushing.

i’m running late, i’m rushing, and i’m contemplating breaking all rules of the road to arrive to work on time.

nothing is going right for me today.

i was supposed to have the morning off, so i didn’t set an alarm, but then i woke up to find six missed calls from my boss and a text asking if i could come help get equipment ready for practice because one of the other equipment managers came down with the flu.

then, i had to deal with getting yelled at because i didn’t have my ringer on and therefore, woke up after practice ended and didn’t come in and help.

then, i tipped over my brand new bottle of cold brew and had to spend almost an hour mopping my kitchen floor and wiping down the counters to get rid of the stickiness.

then, at the last minute as i was stepping out the door to head to the arena, my hair tie broke. and now i’ve spent the last fifteen minutes scouring my apartment for a new one, only to come to the conclusion that i have to leave now or else risk being yelled at for a second time today.

i give up entirely on my search for a hair tie, accepting my fate of wearing my hair down and rushing out of my apartment so fast that i almost forget to lock up behind me.

when i finally make it to Prudential Center, i’m able to clock in just before i’d be considered late, and i have absolutely no extra time to search for my boyfriend amidst the chaos of the season opener.

instead, i set off straight to the equipment area, working in tandem with my colleagues to make sure every players gloves, pads, and everything in between is ready, before i put each players gear into their respective locker room stalls.

i stack pucks in a high pyramid at the bench, ready for warm-ups, and line sticks up against the glass behind the bench, all set to be handed out when needed.

amongst the frantic running around the arena and getting things ready, i lose track of how many times i’m adjusting my hair; flipping it over my shoulder and tugging it out of my face.

finally, i get a split second to breathe, pulling my hair up in a makeshift ponytail with my hands as i stand outside the locker room, on standby in case any of the players need me.

“hey.” i instinctively drop my hands at the sound of someone talking, my shirt falling back down to cover the sliver of my abdomen that had shown when they were raised.

at the sight of my boyfriend, i sigh in relief, his chuckle reaching my ears as his arms snake around my waist.

“i scare ya?” Jack teases.

his helmet hits against my back, as he holds it in one hand. he’s all geared up, ready to hit the ice for the first game of the season, and oddly enough, i can’t help finding it incredibly attractive.

“just a little.” i huff, and a wide grin spreads across his lips. i smack his chest, but all that it hurts is his padding. “don’t be mean! i’ve had a bad day.”

his smile drops into an exaggerated pout, and he leans down to press a kiss to my lips.

“i’m sorry, baby.” i hum in acknowledgment, waving it off when he asks if i’d like to rant.

“no, it’s okay. i’ll rant later.” i assure him. “after you win your game.”

“our game.” he states, and i roll my eyes.

he’s made sure to never let me forget how much work i put into the team’s equipment and gear. citing that they wouldn’t be able to win without my help.

in his eyes, it’s as much my wins and losses as it is his.

“right.” i nod, patting his shoulders. “in that case, i’m gonna be very upset if you lose our game.”

his head tips back, laughter pouring past his lips, and it sounds like a melody in my ears.

“i’m confident. we’ll win this game.” he assures me, finally letting go of my waist and backing up. “if we don’t, you and i will never hear the end of it from Larks.”

ahh yes, Dylan Larkin. the Red Wings captain and Jack’s friend, whom i met over the summer while visiting Jack at his lake house.

“go!” i shoo my boyfriend off as the rest of his teammates begin pouring out of the locker room, heading off to line up, ready to hit the ice for warm-ups.

waving to the guys, who smile back at me in return, i head out to behind the bench.

as the guys warm up, i double check the bench stock of smelling salts, tums, stick tape, skate blades, and whatever else the guys may need during the game, before standing idly by.

finally, the game is underway, seven minutes left in the second period, and my boyfriend has already gotten a penalty in first for ‘roughing’.

i’m watching my boyfriend skate around the ice as i tend to his teammates, anxiously holding my breath as the clock winds down.

Jack zips across the ice, and i’m gnawing at my lip as he gains control of the puck. but before i know it, he’s just scored his first goal of the season.

a small smile splays across my lips, attempting to contain my excitement as he skates past the bench, bumping fists with his elated teammates before taking another lap around the ice.

Luke turns his head to grin at me, but he’s sidetracked as i’m interrupted by a teammate.

“y/n, can i get some salts?” Timo asks, and i nod, spinning around to grab some, my hair whipping in my face as i do so.

i let out a frustrated groan, turning back around to hand the little packet of smelling salts to number 28.

“you okay?” Timo questions, his brows threading together and i nod.

“it’s my damn hair.” i huff as he moves down on the bench, making room for my boyfriend and his line mates who now join on the bench. “i usually wear it up, but my hair tie broke and it’s getting on my nerves.”

wordlessly, Jack absentmindedly sheds his gloves off, pulling something from his wrist before holding it out to me where i stand directly behind him.

my lips part in surprise as my eyes lock on the pink hair tie that’s pinched between his index finger and thumb.

my hair tie.

“oh.” i breathe out, plucking the hair tie from his grasp. i smile, immediately pulling my hair up into a high ponytail. “thank you, love.”

he turns his head just enough to spot me, beaming back at me for a moment before turning back to focus back on the game that’s about to restart.

i lean forward a little, my hand lightly resting against the padding on his back, but he must feel the slight pressure because he leans back a little to show me he’s listening to what i have to say next.

“congratulations, babe. i’m proud of you.” i speak lowly, only for him to hear, before i stand back again, as though the interaction never happened. both of us focusing back on the game that takes place in front of us.

***

Jack lays beside me in my bed, absentmindedly scrolling through his social media, nodding along as i rant about my day.

“…but seeing you in the box was a plus.” i finish off my long winded ramble, effectively gaining his attention back at my teasing.

he locks his phone, tossing it to the side as he looks over at me.

“what was that?” he asks mockingly, raising an eyebrow. but before i can repeat myself, his fingers are working against the bare skin of my stomach.

my abdomen tightens as i laugh, squirming and trying to get away from his touch.

“stop!” i cackle, attempting and failing to push his hands away as he tickles me.

“no, say that again!” he chuckles, maneuvering his body now to straddle my legs so that i can’t run away, even if i wanted to. i shake my head wildly. “say it again! what was that? i don’t think i heard you right! cause it sounded like you just said the highlight of your day was seeing me get penalties!”

“that’s not true!” i squeal and he momentarily ceases his attack, tilting his ear towards me as if he’s listening closer.

“i said they were just pluses.” i defend myself, quickly following up, “the highlight of my day was finding out you wear my hair tie on your wrist.”

he looks down at me with a smirk, obviously quite proud of himself.

“stole that from your apartment.” he announces with pride.

“when?” i laugh, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, pulling his face closer to mine.

his hands now rest on either side of my head, holding himself up.

“the second time we hooked up.” he murmurs, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “you had complained that day when you forgot you hair tie at home. i never wanted you to be uncomfortable again, so i took one when i left here that night.”

i blink back at him in surprise, my heart thumping loudly in my chest, whooshing in my ears.

“are you telling me, you’ve been wearing that hair tie on your wrist, for the past seven months, just in case i ever needed it?” i ask.

“mhm.” he hums, his nose nudging against mine as he nods, the corners of his lips quirking up in a soft smile.

“i’m so in love with you.” i whisper, pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss.

his lips slot against mine, his tongue slipping in to tangle with mine in a deep and sultry kiss, before he pulls away.

“oh good, because apparently our interaction tonight on the bench?” he pauses and i furrow my brows, nodding for him to continue. “yeah, apparently that happened while the camera was on me.”

a gasp slips past my lips, and he cringes slightly, nodding his head.

“yeah, we’ve been outted.”

we both let that sink in for a moment, pondering what our relationship will be like now that everyone knows. fans certainly analyzing our every move now.

but despite that, we can finally go on dates in public, and post each other on our social medias without panicking that we may have accidentally posted on our public stories instead of our close friends ones.

“i think i can live with that.” i finally break the silence, and he grins.

“yeah?” he questions, pressing a kiss against my lips, and i nod against him.

“yeah.”

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl fic #faithlynn’s writings <3

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drabblesandimagines · 20 days

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Swipe Right

Leon Kennedy x female reader, commissioned piece Lots of dumb fluff ahead! Thanks so much to the lovely @porcelainseashore for commissioning me with the brief of Leon using a dating app! I've said it before and I'll say it again - please do go check out Porcelain's fics! x

“So,” Leon places his elbows on the counter behind, leans back and flashes a winning smile, “how about dinner later?”

The auburn-haired woman waits for her coffee to finish dispensing before she shakes her head, lips pursed. “No, thank you, Agent Kennedy.”

“Oh.” He was sure they’d had some sort of connection. Their eyes had met across the office on more than one occasion, flirtatiously so – had he read it wrong? “You have plans already tonight?”

“Mm, something like that.” She smiles, politely, picking up her DSO-branded mug and heading out of the break room without so much as a glance back.

Leon shrugs it off – he’s good at that – and places his own mug under the spout, about to make his coffee selection when a familiar voice chirps over his shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of internet dating?”

He spins round, surprised. “Claire?”

“Hi.” She waves with a smile. “So, internet dating?”

Leon’s brow furrowed, about to ask why she was here, but from the visitor lanyard around her neck it was clear it was down to some sort of TerraSafe business, but why is she going on about internet dating?

Oh.

“Wait, did you hear…?”

“The dinner invite? Oh, yes.” She nods, crossing her arms. “Does that ever work?”

“Yes.”

Claire quirks an eyebrow.

“Okay, not recently.” He retorts, turning back around and pressing the button for his black coffee to start dispensing.

“Uh-huh…” She steps forward, turns to lean against the counter to look at him. “I’m telling you, Leon - internet dating. I finally convinced Chris to give it a go about six months back, and he seems pretty happy. Been seeing a nice girl for three months now – a florist.”

Leon shakes his head, watching the coffee dispense with feigned interest. “Surprised Redfield went for it. How the hell do you introduce anyone to what we’ve seen?” At least with women from work, he didn’t have to skirt around what the hell he does all day.

“Heard of keeping work and homelife separate?”

“And Chris manages that?”

“I mean, she knows what he’s shared with her, but he took it slow. It’s not like the government can keep everything secret these days – not with everyone having a smart phone.” Claire grimaces, remembering the videos of the Alcatraz attack popping up on social media on a live stream. It was taken down pretty quick, but still popped up occasionally. They can’t hide it forever.

“Anyway, enough about Chris’ love life, I’m trying to help yours. Have you tried it? There’s websites and apps…”

Leon recalls a week of medical leave – battered, bruised and laid out on the couch on high doses of meds, flipping through the cable channels and losing hours to a show about people falling in love over the internet, only for the person to be using a fake photo of an entirely different identity and being crushed when they met in person.

“Isn’t that where the catfish are?”

Claire rolls her eyes. “We won’t set your radius that large.”

He looks down, a little confused. “My… radius?”

Leon’s not present on social media, but that’s hardly a surprise with his work. Maybe, if things had been different, he would’ve trawled through it at some point – joined a group for graduates from the Police Academy of ’98, checked in, gone to some sort of graduating class reunion where they would’ve swapped stories from precincts over a lukewarm beer or two in a hall dressed up with balloons and streamers.

Come to think of it, he doesn’t really remember the names of anyone in his graduating class, though he’s not sure if that’s down to a certain amount of knocks to the head throughout his career getting to him. He could look them up – they’ll be in some sort of database somewhere that Hunnigan could help him locate, but what would he say?

“Me? Well, I had one day on the job – hell of a first day, actually – and then I was ‘recruited’ into military training, so technically not a cop anymore either.”

“Phone, please.” Claire has moved to sit down at one of the small tables in the kitchen, now holding out her hand expectantly. He finds himself joining her, mug of coffee in one hand and the other pulling out his cell from his suit jacket pocket. He hands it over because it’s Claire and he’s known her long enough now to know she’s not going to drop the subject so easily.

“Have you got any selfies on here?”

“Don’t think so. Why?”

“To put on your profile. Anything I shouldn’t see in your gallery?”

He shakes his head.

“Seriously, Leon?” She must’ve opened the app by the way she’s scrolling down on the screen. “These are all sunsets and photos of your motorcycle.”

“What should I be picking pictures of?”

“Oh, wait… Here’s one.” She turns the phone around. It’s him, grinning, next to a corpse of a zombiefied lion. “I repeat – seriously, Leon?”

“Ha, yeah.” He smiles in acknowledgement. “I was trying to get Hunnigan interested in fieldwork with the spectacular sights.” Claire turns the phone back around and the sound of a camera shutter clicks out of the speaker.

“Ooh, that’s a good candid – and no-one needs to know what you were looking at.”

“Look, it’s nice of you to offer, but I don’t know about all this…” He rubs the back of his head.

“It’s 30 days free. Just try it and if you still don’t like it by the end of the trial, you can delete it off your phone and I won’t bring it up again.”

He stalls, taking a long sip of his coffee as he thinks. Claire means well, after all and if Chris has had luck with it, considering what Leon knows he’s seen and lived through, what does he have to lose, really?

“Fine. 30 days.”

“Great! Now, let’s set up your profile…”

Claire had given him a tutorial – swipe left if you’re not interested on a profile, right if you are. If the person swipes right in return, it’ll set you up as a match and you can start a conversation – signaled by a small speech bubble icon appearing on the bottom right.

It wasn’t until that evening that Leon tried it out properly, sat on his couch, killing time before bed and begins to swipe through. It feels a little odd – he usually likes to get to know a person somewhat before offering out his dinner invite, but this is mostly on looks alone, with a tiny snippet of profile information – age, location, what they’re looking for.

He swipes right on a blonde, her profile full of photos from beach vacations or something, says she’s not too far away from him and is ‘looking to connect with someone deeply.’ A chat box pops up immediately and after a moment or two, three dots show Beauty – he’s not sure that’s her real name - is typing.

Hey, big boy. What’s bigger – your forearms or… An eggplant emoji?

Oh.

He hesitates over writing back a response. He can flirt with the best of them, but how is anyone meant to make a genuine connection over this app? Maybe he’s too old for this shit.

He puts his cell down by his side and switches on the television instead.

“So…” Claire drawls over his shoulder over three weeks later, tracked him down to his desk.

“So…” He mocks back with a tease, swinging around in his office chair.

“Any good dates recently?”

He laughs. “How do you even get that far?”

“You’ve not gone on one?”

“Not for lack of trying.” It’s true. After Beauty, he had struck up conversation with a few more genuine girls that seemed to be going well until he’d broached the idea of a date and they’d drop off the radar. “A couple seemed interested but then stopped replying. I got one date – she didn’t show up.”

“Oh, come on.” Claire leans against his desk. “That can’t be everyone. Let me see.” There’s the expectant hand again. He sighs, picks up his phone and opens the app before handing it over to her.

She sets to scrolling through new arrivals for him, before she pauses. “Well, this one looks sweet.”

“Claire, I appreciate your concern but I just don’t think this app is for me. I gave it a go, I swear.”

“I know, but you’ve got a few days left on the free trial at least - you won’t lose anything. Just take a look?”

He takes the phone back and looks at the screen – a cropped picture of you, it looks like, your friends’ arms around your shoulders, a big, genuine smile on your face. Not a pout or a smolder in a night club mirror.

“Aw, you’re smiling.”

“Fine.” He swipes, but the message bubble doesn’t pop up. That’s the one thing he doesn’t like about this app – you never know if the other one will swipe back.

“No match.”

“Give her a moment,” Claire elbows him, playfully. “Not everyone is scrolling for dates at work.”

“Hey-”

“Speaking of, I’ve got a meeting. See you!”

You throw yourself down on the bed, a little bit tipsy after an evening of drinking with your friends, and hold your phone dangerously above your face – you’ve been so close to giving yourself a black eye from the drop so many times but never learn – and open up that stupid app. Your friend had encouraged you to sign up to it after declaring you’d been in a pity party for long enough now after your last break-up and it was time to get back out there.

You scroll through the latest arrivals, swiping left as you go. Everyone internet dates now, you don’t know why you only seem to attract utter creeps on it. You’d been on a few dates, but they’d all been entirely awkward outside the safety of the chat box.

You pause on one new arrival, Leon, 41, the first photo in the set clearly a candid. He’s dressed in a suit – no tie. Businessman, you wonder? Amazingly hot and maybe the most shiniest hair you’ve ever seen.

You roll over onto your stomach and swipe right, smiling when a chat bubble appears.

Leon had just settled into bed for the night when his phone vibrated angrily on the bedside table. He threw a hand out, blindly, and looked at the screen, half expecting it to be an email from work or a message from Hunnigan.

It’s neither – a notification from the app.

Hi, Leon. Thanks for swiping. Can I ask something?

He frowns – a unique opener, but it could still go the way of the others, he reckons. He’s not a prude, per say, but he’s seen a lot more than he was intending to these past few weeks. He backs up and has a quick scroll through your profile, vaguely recognizing your face from when he’d swiped right earlier that day – the girl Claire had deemed sweet.

Hi – ask away.

A bubble appears with three dots within.

How do you get your hair that shiny?

Leon barks out a laugh - definitely refreshing.

I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet where I’m comfortable sharing my beauty secrets.

Please? Mine is so dull.

He clicks on your profile again and onto the photos but can’t see why you’re worried about your hair. Truthfully, all he registers when he looks at the picture is that sweet, genuine smile.

Looks pretty good from what I can see.

The camera adds all the shine. Are you using a filter?

Trust me when I say I wouldn’t know how.

Don’t know about filters but using a dating app? That doesn’t gel.

My friend suggested I give this online dating thing a go, so here I am.

Well, you’ll have to thank your friend for me.

Leon hesitates a moment, before shrugging it off.

I’ll be sure to, especially as it’s got me talking to you.

Your scalp tingles, but it seems nothing to do with the alcohol consumed earlier.

Too cheesy? I told you I’m new to this, right?

Nah, you’re gouda.

Leon grins.

The conversation continues to flow over the next few days. You talk about work – he keeps it vague, works in the government, can be called away on business trips last minute – and you are equally elusive in your response of office work. Internet safety, he reckons, smart girl that you are. Hearing his phone ping with a notification has quickly become his favourite sound.

Nice day? Definitely. Picked up my motorcycle – it’s been in the shop a while. Dare I ask what happened? He hesitates. Chasing a bioterrorist down a highway is perhaps a little too much…

Hit by a truck. I wasn’t on it - obviously.

Jeez. Insurance not just buy you a new one? I can’t think how that’s salvageable.

It’s my favourite, I couldn’t give up on her. You ever been on a motorcycle?

Uh-uh. Too scared.

What of?

Falling off, mainly.

No danger of that if you ride tandem - just need to be sure to hold on real tight.

You bite your lip, mulling over a response, but Leon fills the gap.

And I’d look after you, of course. Make a nice first date, don’t you think?

First date? That’s more, like, third or even fourth date material.

There’s your chance, Kennedy – don’t mess it up.

Well, then we better get the first date out of the way.

You bite your lip as you type back a response. Is that your way of asking?

If it is?

If it is, then I’m free Friday...

Perfect.

Friday morning arrives and Leon’s at his desk, typing up a report when his phone chimes. Checking over his shoulder, he pulls it out of his pocket and smiles when he sees it’s a text from you. You’d exchanged numbers the other night, deciding it time to take communication off app ahead of meeting up.

Morning. Question?

Morning. Still after my shampoo secrets?

Yes… But not that. How am I meant to recognize you?

I thought that’d be easy – by how shiny my hair is, apparently.

It’ll be dark out, though.

Is this you trying to be subtle about asking for another photo?

No comment.

Leon locks his computer, the screensaver switching to today’s date and time on a black background. He swings his desk chair around, looks around again to make sure no-one’s on their way past, and opens the camera app. He flips the viewfinder around and tries out a couple of smiles before snapping a selfie – if Claire could see him now…

He sends it through.

Included the time and date and all. Happy?

No comment.

Well, how will I recognize you?

Easy. I’ll be the one coming up to you and saying, “Hi, Leon.” See you tonight x

Until then x

The two of you had decided to meet at a bistro – varied menu for all tastes, not too intimate, excellent wine, spirits and craft beer menu.

Leon is nervous as he stands to the side of the entrance – an emotion he hasn’t truly entertained since 1998. There had been no time for it when bioweapons and death were staring him down the face. But, tonight… Well, he’s out of his element on this one. Leon had only ever approached women through work and, yes, it was to varying degrees of success but they’d already seen him properly in person, heard his voice, aware of what he does. There was a horrible niggle at the back of his mind that the date who had stood him up a few weeks ago had caught sight of him and turned heel on the spot.

He looks down at this watch to see it’s bang on 7.30. He’d arrived ten minutes too early, but didn’t want to chance being late and showing up in a fluster. When he looks up, slipping a hand back into his pocket, a figure with a familiar face is walking towards him, greets him with an anxious smile and an awkward half-wave.

God, you’re adorable.

“Hi, Leon.”

“Hi,” He smiles, one hand still in his pocket, the other hanging down by his side. He wonders if he should’ve gone in for the kiss on the cheek, but he’s missed his chance.

“Erm…” You wring your hands together. “You okay?”

“Great. You?”

Why does he feel as giddy as he did when he picked up his girlfriend for prom back at high school?

“I’m good. It’s nice to put a… voice to a face?” You laugh – light and airy - and Leon’s already desperate to hear it again.

“It really is. Er, shall we?” He gestures forward with his arm.

You nod. “Let’s.”

The conversation is stagnant at first, a sentence here or there as you peruse the drinks menu and move on to ordering starters and entrees. With a little liquid courage, though, the two of you soon slip into easy conversation.

It’s just after the appetizers are cleared when Leon realizes he’s completely and utterly smitten.

You don’t even know where the time has gone, but all of the sudden the two of you are the only diners left and it’s clear the wait staff are looking for you to leave so they can begin their nightly clean down.

He follows you out and onto the sidewalk, a few metres away from the bistro entrance, standing awkwardly opposite each other – mirroring the beginning of the evening.

“So, fancy a ride?”

You tilt your head at him curiously before you burst out into laughter and he grins, rubbing the back of his head, awkwardly, as he realizes the context.

“I mean, I brought my bike here. I can give you a ride home - on my bike.”

You smile. “Not on the first date, remember?”

“Of course.” He nods. “Sticking to your principles – I respect that. Well, can I call you a cab?”

“Oh, actually, I’m gonna walk. I live just in that building over there…” You point up to an apartment building about halfway up the next block.

“I could walk you across the street?” He cringes as he realizes maybe he’s coming on too heavy-handed. “I’m sorry, I promise I can take a hint-”

“No.” You cut across abruptly. “I mean, walking me home would be nice.”

You cross the road in silence, both wrapped up in your own thoughts. You wish you lived slightly further away so you’d have longer to work out what to say, how to end the night.

“So…” Leon begins the other side of the road, the entrance to your apartment block just ahead. He’s trying to keep calm and collected, but there’s just something about you that has made his heart race, his palms sweaty. Don’t fuck this up, Kennedy. “I had a really lovely evening.”

“Me too.” You smile back – and you mean it – but you can’t help but brace yourself. Is this the part where he says, yeah, he had a nice time, but he’d rather not do it again? It seems all too good to be true. He’s the same as he was on the phone, messages and photos.

“Great…” You take a deep breath at his pause, unconsciously clenching your fists, “..cos I was wondering how you felt about a second date?”

“You’re really desperate to get me on that motorcycle, huh?” You tease, instantly relaxing. “But, seriously, I’d like that, to see you again.”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“That depends what you have in mind.” You stop, suddenly – the apartment foyer to your left. “This is me.”

“Well, we’ve done dinner, shall we work backwards and have lunch next?”

You take a step closer. “And then breakfast?”

“Fourth could be a midnight feast?” He steps forward too, misjudging the distance and something hard brushes against your stomach. Leon’s eyes widen in alarm. “Oh, wait, I…” He dips his hand into his trouser pocket and pulls out a travel-sized bottle of shampoo with a sheepish smile. “I meant to give you this at the end of dinner – my beauty secret.”

You yank him forward by his jacket collar and kiss him before you can even think properly about what you’re doing. You step up onto your tip toes to deepen the kiss, a hand bracing yourself against his chest for a moment before you mean to step back, maybe even apologise for pouncing on the man, but Leon’s arms wrap around your waist, holding you in place, kissing you back incessantly before you both have to retreat for breath.

“Well, if I knew the shampoo would get that reaction I would’ve started the night off with it.” He murmurs, pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. “I gotta ask though - you’ll kiss on the first date, but not ride a motorcycle?”

You shrug, half-heartedly. “One’s more dangerous than the other.”

He kisses you once more, softly, ending with a teasing nibble on your lip.

“Oh, we’ll see about that, sweetheart.” -- Masterlist . 1,000 followers event

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff

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simpingland · 9 months

Text

The rumors// Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader.

Requ: May I request a piece with Aemond x Blackwood!Reader? Was thinking that the oldest daughter of the Blackwoods gets betrothed to Aemond in order for the Greens to gain their support, Aemond is not ecstatic about it but he finds that lady Blackwood is fascinating person, very intelligent and very much..like him.So of course he slowly falls for her and in spite of her cold/sarcastic demeanour she truly sees Aemond for who he is and falls for him at first glance (but of course he doesn't have to know that:).

Summary: Aemond is forced to marry a woman he was more than happy to ignore. But her sarcasm, brain skills and a knee injury makes him feel a bit too passionate for her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your father had quickly changed his colors as soon as the largest dragon in existence landed on the mountain closest to his castle. Of course, Aemond showed no threat; he knew he had to get an army that was willing to defend Aegon, not hate him. So he passively aggressively asked for the army of Lord Samwell Blackwood, who ruled a considerable part of the Riverlands, in exchange for something else. And of course, the lord had you, a daughter of appropriate age, hard to marry and smart enough to know how to grow the Blackwood power at court. So he asked for a marriage. You could see the Prince let out a sigh from your hiding place, but he agreed. It was a conscious decision that you found yourself "indisposed" in the days leading up to your wedding. In these, you spent your time wandering the corridors in the shadows, following the Prince at a distance and meeting the women with reliable sources who told you what Aemond Targaryen was like. Best of all, you knew he knew nothing of you. That was an advantage.

The wedding was rushed, held in your own home, making it clear to the Tullys and Bracken that their support for Aegon was expected. If they did not support your House, you were likely to be the victim of a mysterious death, and the Brackens would be happy with the news, but the Tullys would not. You were dressed in red, the black was entirely removed from your dress, and your jewels and veil silvered. Under the veil you could see him watching you with that blue eye, and when he withdrew it, you could see an indecipherable change in his face. Whether he was happy or not didn't matter to you, because he was surprised, and that was interesting. You exchanged vows, touching his hand for the first time, as cold as you expected, and he could hear your voice. He only looked away when you looked at him, but the rest of the time you were sure he was following you. He kissed your hand courteously at the end of the ceremony.

"Does your wine not please you, my lady?" His voice surprised you, his gaze resting on your glass, still full.

"It pleases me as much as it surely pleases you, my Prince," you replied. He hadn't had a drop either.

"I'm tryingto keep a clear mind."

"Some men drink their fill precisely to clear their heads. Besides, you shouldn't be nervous, I'll tell you which hole is the right one."

The sly grin that appeared on your face made him clench his jaw in frustration. Perhaps, a dragon rider, such a fearful prince, would react with fists and shouts at the taunt. But Aemond decided to pick up his goblet and take a good swallow.

"It's going to be a long night, I'm afraid," he said it as a kind of threat, but to you it sounded as if it was more of a nightmare.

And he stared at his failure to scare you, as you continued to eat with glee.

The bedding was not public thanks to your father, but you did spend the night with Aemond. He was reluctant to undress, so neither did you. He sat in front of the fire in your room while you watched Vhagar from your balcony.

"Are you going to force me to ride on the dragon to King's Landing?" You asked without turning around.

"If you prefer, go on horseback. But by the time you reach the castle I will have marched off to war." He sounded serious.

"It doesn't sound as bad as you think it does."

You heard him rise from the chair, and then you were a little afraid. He walked quickly towards you, placing his face inches from yours, his hands grasping and squeezing your arms.

"Then you will enjoy an extremely lonely time, my dear. No one will know who you are and neither they would want to find out. And if I die in battle, with no heirs, no one will ever care for you. They'll send you back here and you'll become old and a burden. And if we lose the war, there will be no one to protect you." His soft voice spoke calmly despite the venom they gave off.

"I never said I didn't want to ride in Vhagar, my Prince." Your reassurance surprised him, as did your hands resting on his chest gently. "I'd rather ride and stay there with you...I'm sure it's much more fun."

And without further ado, you turned away and set about sleeping, or pretending to. Aemond never got to lie in bed with you. But soon he would, you needed time. The flight to King's Landing was quick, in silence and quite impressive. Clinging more to the chair than to Aemond, you didn't tell him how impressed you were with the sensation. He didn't want to ask you any questions, but looked at you in search for something to make him feel satisfied, but it was hard to impress you. When you landed, he helped you off the beast and you decided not to let go of his hand. And so the Dowager Queen Alicent saw you.

"Did you enjoy your flight?" she asked politely.

"The truth is, yes. Now I understand why children are willing to lose precious things in exchange for flying with them..." they both looked at you quizzically. Of course, the source of the loss of Aemond's eye was just a rumour, a rumour you had heard. You smiled, noting the tension in both of them. "Like little Ronnel Arryn when Visenya asked him to surrender."

Your explanation was enough for Alicent, but Aemond could tell it was a trick answer, that you had someone else in mind. And when you reached your chambers, the one you would share for the rest of your lives, Aemond did not hesitate to corner you against the wall in one of his graceful moves. His hands rested on your cheeks, squeezing hard enough to keep you quiet and your gaze locked with his.

"I don't know what's going through your mind, but I don't like a single tone in your voice." His voice was laden with anger, anger at not knowing. "You think by smiling at the end of every sentence people forget how irritating you are."

"You barely know me..." you tried to say with his fingers so tightly pressed to your face. "But I'm glad to see I was right to bet that I was going to have a good time with you."

"I'm not a buffoon." His face was so close to yours that you had to turn your own away.

"I know better, my Prince. With that hair and that dragon there is no doubt about it. It must bother you that there are people in the kingdom who don't see Jacaerys and Lucerys for what they really are...mustn't it?"

His hand loosened slightly, and Aemond seemed to calm down. He waited for you to draw another smirk again, watching your lips slowly. But that smile did not come, for you knew you had hit the nail on the head. Your bad luck was that Aemond was almost as smart as you, and only trusted you for those brief seconds. Then he squeezed your face again before releasing it abruptly.

Even though Aemond was constantly wandering, Helaena was the best company. She was the one who explained to you everything that was really going on in that castle, even though it was hard to understand her. Her words were never clear, and she got lost in the middle of conversations. What reassured you most was that Aemond was a tender brother, caring for the children Aegon had neglected from the beginning. And if Aemond was patient with a girl like Helaena, it indicated that there must be something good in the prince everyone feared. Now all that remained was to keep him more than a few minutes at your side.

Then came the opportunity to visit Oldtown, to meet Daeron and make sure that the Hightower would support the Greens and how good that support was. On this dragon ride, you decided to put your hands on his waist, consciously moving them all over his abdomen, trying to unnerve him. And at your attempts, Aemond commanded Vhagar to fly in a brute and exaggerated way. A bad idea, for although she managed to scare you, the dragon was very old and hurt herself, brushing against the mountains as you passed Horn Hill. Had they been higher, you would have been killed, but Aemond controlled the situation before it got worse, and the fall only resulted in a rough landing in the mountains.

"Why did you do that?" you shouted as soon as you saw that Aemond was still alive, a few metres away. He was able to get up and approach you, putting on the patch before you could see him without it. "We could have died!"

"You were the one triying to to piss me off!" You were still lying on the ground, your leg felt sore, and you didn't want to move it.

"Is that why you asked Vhagar to shake himself in the air?" You were indignant, somewhat flattered, but mostly indignant.

"You were trying to distract me!" he justified himself, looking down at you from above.

"You should have told me to stop!"

"And would you have stopped?"

He watched as you fell silent. Obviously you wouldn't have, you would have ended up finding some other way to irritate him. Then Aemond offered you a hand to help you up, and you took it. But a pain in your leg made you grunt and fall back down. It was sharp, but not exaggerated. Aemond bent down to check your wound, and without any embarrassment, lifted your skirt.

"Wow, you can do that and I can't hold on to your chest?" Even in pain, you still laughed at him. And Aemond's gaze commanded you to shut up.

His hands gently touched your knee, and the pain returned. You saw Aemond quickly pull his hands away and cover you again.

"Good thing it's not broken," he said, standing up again.

"What a joy... Now you're just going to leave me lying here?"

With another deep sigh of his own, he lifted you up without difficulty, careful not to move your knee too much. And it took you a while to mount Vhagar again.

This time you would not be behind, but in front of Aemond, both legs to one side, and Aemond's arms as a barrier. He placed your hands firmly on the collar of his coat and your legs wrapped as tightly as possible around his. Your face was basically buried in his neck and his scent clouded any other scent.

"Don't move" he whispered in your ear. And you didn't, also, you didn't wanted to. The rest of the flight was quiet and pleasant, and you could watch Aemond's face as much as you wished to. The arrival in Oldtown was rushed to say the least, Aemond wanted to leave you with the Maesters while he met with the more important lords.

"But I want to be present," you demanded, still in his arms.

"Your leg must be checked," he justified.

"I want to know everything, I refuse to have made this journey to stay locked up in my room.

"You simply can't."

He spoke to you as if you were stupid, but when you grabbed his coat tightly, you surprised him with your change of tone.

"Take me with you right now, Aemond, or I swear you will lose the support of the Rivelands with one word from me."

He could barely attend to the meeting, seeing you sitting with dignity in the chair, attentive to the words of the lords and maesters, and disguising the pain in your leg. He felt rather guilty, for besides, Aemond had gained nothing, for you continued to impress everyone who came across you. You knew by heart all the information you had received, you knew what your father was planning, and what Otto was planning. You looked like the Princess, not Aemond. And when the meeting was over, he saw you stand up with a grimace, and ran to hold you, letting you lean your full weight on him slyly.

"Now you're really going to see a Maester, wife."

"About time, this is all your fault."

He was going to argue, but as he turned he saw that smile again. Something in him melted and he knew he had to surrender to you, for he was losing that futile battle.

In the room, with your knee smeared with a medicated cream and covered with care, Aemond saw you reposition yourself on the bed, now comfortable.

"I didn't know you liked politics," Aemond said, watching you from across the room.

"I don't. But I want to survive."

"You don't trust us to win this war?"

"I trust nothing, ever. You have to be prepared for anything."

"I agree," he moved closer to the bed. He brushed your sore knee gently. "Does that mean you'll never trust me?"

"For starters, you tried to shake me off your dragon."

Aemond's gaze softened, moving his hand away from your knee but sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry. You made me nervous."

"And to continue," you interrupted him, "you won't let me get to know you. And I remind you that you are now my husband."

"I've never met a woman who wants to be so involved with her husband's affairs." He smiled slightly, wryly.

"That's because you don't know many women...as the rumours say."

"The rumours?" you nodded. "Do you listen to the rumours?"

"No, I just listen and wait. You'd be surprised how many times I've seen them confirmed. Just now was one of them."

"You think I haven't been with a lot of women?" Aemond slowly bent down to close the distance, and his breath circled over your face. You had to hide your nervousness, for he didn't seem angry this time.

"You don't like my touch... But I assumed it was because I am little more than a stranger to you. I do not think you a virgin, but I know you have loved few women. If you ever have..." His weight began to fall on top of you, covering you with his body.

"And what else do the rumours say?"

"That your eye is replaced with a diamond. Though I've also heard that it's empty dark, and that's why you cover it."

His lips landed on your neck, where he left you a soft kiss.

"And what do you think I'm wearing?" His voice sounded husky and you felt its vibration.

"I've seen your books, many of history, and many of gemstones, an incredible boring reading... But not to look like a diamond man." You turned your face to him, forcing him to look at you, and saw his blue eye with the pupil dilated, glittering. "It's a stone, but not a diamond."

"And what stone do you think it is, wife?"

"I don't know. I've been thinking more about other things. And I have little interest in what's behind a patch. You covered your eye for a reason and I will respect that."

He seemed surprised, your tone was, for the first time, serious and cutting. And he liked that better than he expected.

"Everything I've heard about you is that you were a hard woman to marry."

"That's because no one delivered what I asked for. I have not been so obedient to my father's orders when offering my hand to a random lord."

"And what is it you ask, my lady?"

"I am no longer a lady."

"True, my princess." He couldn't help but smile when he saw the pride appear on your face.

"What I ask, my prince...is that my marriage will bring change to House Blackwood. It is because of us that The Riverland is so powerful. And the Tullys and Brackens get all the credit. We were kings once. And we can be kings again. Just one dragon can be incredible powerfull."

Aemond stroked your hair, then your lips with his thumb. You let your husband touch you tenderly for the first time. You caressed that face too, and Aemond kissed your fingers.

"I find it hard to believe that my wife seems tailor-made for me," he said at last. "We may die as Princes, but I swear to you our children will be kings."

"But that requires some irritating and distracting...Touches."

"I will have to make the sacrifice then of-" Aemond tried to joke, but you cut him off, kissing him at last on those lips.

They were warmer than you had expected, perhaps, in the comfort of the bed, with the lust stirring and the fantasy of creating a family, Aemond's body had been comforted by the feel of yours so close. And he fell surrendered in your arms, eagerly receiving and sharing that kiss that ended in something much bigger. That day, without rumours, without theories, you got to know Aemond completely, as a prince, as a husband, as a lover, as a man. He was all your, as you were all his, maybe, and just maybe, because he trusted you as much as you trusted him.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #house of the dragon x reader #prince aemond #aemond one eye

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eviesaurusrex · 9 months

Text

ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴡ | ʜ. ꜱᴛʏʟᴇꜱ

GIFs not mine!

Harry Styles x Wife!Reader

summary: Harry’s final show is over, and now the aftermath is hitting.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: crying, mentions of pregnancy (I couldn’t help it, sorry 👉🏻👈🏻), and dad-to-be!Harry, fluff, soft!reader, soft!Harry, more crying, just fluffness, not entirely proofread

author’s note: I only could watch parts of the livestream and saw videos on Twitter, and because I was so emotional over this, I had to write something. This is my first time writing in a while, so please bear with me, thaaaaanks

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YN would have to lie if she told anybody her eyes were entirely dry over the course of his final show. No one would believe her anyway because the internet was full of evidence that she certainly had been crying—she had been a never-ending waterfall from the minute the intro had started, and Harry arrived on stage.

Maybe her hormones were already more chaotic and over the top than she had anticipated.

But seeing him falling to his knees, overwhelmed by all the emotions crashing down on him, seeing his loyal fans in numbers of thousands gathered to celebrate him and his last night on tour, also took her in. A moment after, she had found herself in the embraces of Anne and Gemma, all three women watching the man they loved so deeply and dearly doing what he loved the most while the venue cheered for him. It was an otherworldly moment, YN was sure of it. Her heart ached in astonishing proudness, in overwhelming love and devotion, but also in sympathy because the woman already knew how hard this was for Harry. He just loved his work just as much as he loved her. But she would be ready to catch him from falling and build him up again if he needed it.

Apparently, Harry’s goal tonight was to make this even more emotional than it already was, to ingrain it in her memory for all the years ahead of them, as he stood again and slowly, still in awe, walked back to the microphone stand, the Love Band in his back. YN only could wipe away the last fallen tears, her head resting against Anne’s shoulder, feeling Gemma’s head resting on hers, before Harry’s next words let new salty oceans well up in her already red eyes.

“This-this tour was the biggest adventure so far in my life, and-and I will be forever grateful for the experiences I was fortunate enough to have, thanks to all of you. I will never forget that. Never. But now—“ His still watery eyes searched through the crowds until he seemingly found her, a knowing smile stretching over his lips. “Now, I’ll aboard the grandest adventure of a lifetime, feeling prepared enough not to make a fool out of myself, for not letting this gorgeous, gorgeous woman—“ He pointed in her direction, and the fans screamed as some of them seemed to realize what he was telling them. “—down and disappoint her. You helped me to grow over the past two years, and becoming a dad isn’t so frightening anymore.” Now, everyone caught up to it, the venue boomed and buzzed with excitement, and YN couldn’t hold back the pent-up tears and the smile appearing on her face.

This really was a final show to behold.

“Thank you to all of you. I might be gone for a while, but I’ll come back with something magical. I promise. Stay true, stay wild, stay kind. Remember everything will be alright.”

* * *

It took almost two hours until YN saw Harry rounding the corner and walking toward her in their hotel room. She had already gotten ready for the night, had ordered dinner for them, and got the place as cozy as possible. They wouldn’t stay long here before finally heading to Harry’s Italian sanctuary, reveling in the endless amounts of free and uninterrupted time together, distressing from this incredible tour, and preparing everything for the new addition to their small family.

“Hey,” she whispered as Harry wordlessly sank to his knees in front of the bed, kneeling between her legs and resting his head against her chest. YN could hear him humming in contentment as her fingers started to card through his still-damp hair, not caring for the sweat clinging to him. “You were incredible. I am so, so proud.” She continued to whisper praise after praise, interrupted only by soft kisses to the top of Harry’s head until she felt his shoulders shake under her loving hands and the quiet sobs pressed out against her top. “Oh, baby…” Tightly, they held onto one another, feeling each other as closely as possible while he drenched her shirt in much-needed tears and never let go of her.

YN didn’t care a millisecond for her clothes and let him cry until the only sounds inside the hotel room were his heavy, shaky breaths and her soothing voice, whispering sweet nothings into his soft curls, against his forehead, his temple. She felt his strong hands on her back, his long fingers burying into the soft fabric of her shirt, which had been once his a long time ago. Not able to stop, YN continued to press kisses to every spot she could reach and gently guided him through the emotional turmoil of the aftermath as best as she could.

After some time, Harry inhaled deeply before a long, deep sigh released it again, his body now unmoving resting against hers, slowly relaxing in her embrace. In one moment, he was like warmed clay under her hands, molding perfectly against her, and in the next, his hands had wrapped her legs around his waist, and he carried her wordlessly into the adjacent bathroom, gently placing her on the bench next to the shower. YN knew he needed her close, even though he stepped under the warm water stream alone at first. Without so much as a second thought, she discarded the clothes, ignored the fact that she had already showered earlier, and stepped right behind him into the glass cabin.

Hands softly, lovingly, glided over his hips before arms wrapped themselves around it, a face pressed against his back, fingers slowly tracing every single dark inked line on warm skin. Featherlike kisses flew over his back, and she could hear him sigh again, still not saying a word, still contemplating the last hours. Another heavy, shaky inhale was the sign of the next set of tears, and now, he turned in her arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck, pulling her as closely as possible to hold onto something in the sea of overwhelming emotions.

“It’s okay, love. Let it out. I’m here,” YN could only mumble against his shoulder, feeling somewhat helpless and on the verge of crying herself while the hormones started to run havoc inside her once again. But she never had liked seeing him upset or even crying, to begin with, too empathetic not to be fazed by it. Most times, she had cried alongside him until they laughed under tears which had always changed the mood to something brighter. But now, YN felt it wasn’t her place to cry along, so she bottled it up, forcing the traitorous tears down and let her hand find his cheek to gently caress it with the pad of her thumb.

Harry mumbled something inaudible against her neck, grabbing her tighter than before. “Hm? What was that?” YN asked quietly, her words almost drowned by the still-running shower. “Don’t think I’m mourning this tour more than I want to spend time with you,” he repeated himself and pulled his head back to let their foreheads meet again. “My career isn’t more important than you. Or the family we’re starting.” Blinking stunned, YN softly furrowed her brows, slowly shaking her head. “I’d never think that,” she finally whispered, not sure where this came from all of a sudden. Her thumbs wiped away the remaining tears. “There wasn’t a single moment in the past eight years where I felt like a second choice. I never thought you prioritized your career over me. So… Never think that. Okay? We know we’re loved without measure, beyond compare, H.”

At that, Harry started to smile, eyes still watery, and placed one of his hands over the place where his second true love was safely growing. “Thank you, sunflower.” It was only a whisper, voice filled with wonder, as he looked down at the woman who had decided he was worthy enough for her love all those years ago and who had grown alongside him. And now she gifted him the most precious thing he could ever ask for: fatherhood with the woman he loved more than anything else at his side.

YN smiled up at him and let Harry kiss her softly. “Nothing to thank me for, love. It’s my job. I’ll always be here to catch you, just as I have always done.“ Mumbling against his lips, she couldn’t let go of him, but soon, she was wrapped in a fluffy towel, and Harry lovingly dried her hair, always watching her through the mirror above the sink with a loving expression. She watched him just as closely, seeing that one familiar spark of inspiration lighting up in his mesmerizing eyes, but he contained himself. YN couldn’t have any of that. “You can go and do your magic, y’know? Dinner should be here soon, and the little bean and I can entertain ourselves.” But she should’ve known better and allowed Harry to pull her back against his chest. “The music can wait. I need this. Need you. Time with you. Wanna talk about anything and everything. Want to talk to the little bean. I want to have dinner with my wife on the balcony. I want to sleep in with her tomorrow before we head out to the villa.”

Sometimes, YN couldn’t comprehend her luck, couldn’t comprehend how it was possible for someone to love another human so deeply. It was like a miracle.

Grinning, she let both brows wander up in question. “Have you ever thought about telling your fans that the Harry Styles is not only becoming a dad but is also a married man?” A chuckle escaped them at that, and she still wondered how they had been so successful in keeping secrets from the world. “Maybe after coming back,” he continued to chuckle as he bent down and kissed her right shoulder, his thumbs now sweeping over her skin like soft feathers.

The moment of contentedly looking at one another through the slightly fogged-up mirror was over as the sound of knuckles against the wooden hotel room door echoed through their rooms. Harry bent down once again, his index finger resting under her chin and turning her face to capture her lips in another kiss. He just couldn’t get enough of her. “I’ll set up dinner, and you’ll get cozy again, sunflower.”

And with that, he ventured out of the bathroom, leaving a smiling YN behind.

* * *

As usual: Thanks for reading, folks <3 If you like my work, I’d be very happy if you reblog it because reblogs are super great! And I love to hear your thoughts, so hit me up whenever and however you like

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incognit0slut · 11 months

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (6)

She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part summary: she is taken aback as the student becomes the master. wc: 4,3k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content (this part includes masturbation, forced orgasm, a little squirting, female and male oral), graphic details of murder

a/n: SMUT ALERT! If you like sexy stuff then you can just read this, but reading previous parts is better for context :)

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

SPENCER HAD WITNESSED MANY THINGS THAT LEFT HIM IN A STATE OF WONDER. Certain books or poetry. Certain buildings, art, or places. Specific moments that left him in an overwhelming sense of awe. But no amount of experience could prepare him for the view right at this moment. It felt as if he wasn't worthy enough to marvel this splendor sight of a woman.

Was comparing her to a masterpiece of fine art too excessive? Although he couldn't help it, with the way she was sprawled along the couch with knees spread apart, she seemed to be all source of beauty and perfection. His eyes trailed across her glorious body; adorning every curve, every line, and every inch of her skin.

His body ached to touch her, to feel her hot skin underneath his fingertips, yet he wouldn’t dare himself to reach out. This was her moment, he realized. She was laid out in front of him on her own accord, wearing nothing but a coy smile and a certain spark in her eye. Who was he to interrupt a woman basking in her sensuality?

"So, is this some kind of a lesson?" He slowly asked after a moment, his tone provocative and full of meaning as he paused and licked his lips. "If you must know, I'm a very fast learner."

Her eyes were focused on his mouth, those plump lips now glistening slightly from where his tongue had just wet them. "A lesson, a show... you can think of it as anything you want." Then a taunting smile played on her lips. "I only need you to pay attention."

His gaze swept over her wet flesh, flushed and swollen, the slickness glistening from her core made every part of him swell. "You've had my full attention ever since I saw you that night. You're all I think about."

She felt herself crumbling at his confession. Her heart hammered against her chest, the charge behind his words spreading warmth throughout her body that had nothing to do with her arousal. "Don't say things like that, Dr. Reid."

"Why?"

Because I think I could fall for you.

She swallowed the thought away and focused her attention on this moment. Sex. That was what she should be thinking of, not the way her mind was going into a spiral of admiration that had nothing to do with physical attraction. Nothing else should matter when the man sitting a few feet away from her was looking at her as if she was his favorite meal.

"On second thought," she decided to say, her fingers slowly moving across her thigh. "Words are good."

When he didn't respond, she continued, her hand slipping between her legs. "Words can be an additional sense to stimulate the brain that goes beyond—" Her fingers softly pressed onto her clit. "—touch."

"That... is true," he softly agreed, his breathing more shallow as he watched her fingers moving in a circle motion. "The brain is the most receptive erogenous zones in the human body."

"Exactly. Now tell me what you're thinking."

There wasn't a moment of hesitation as he answered, "How beautiful you are."

She couldn't help the genuine smile forming in her mouth. "What else?”

She really was a sight. Chemicals suddenly flood his system, making his head pound and chest restrict, his blood entirely redirecting south. He gulped as she quickened the pace on her clit. "How I want to be the one touching you right now."

"Yeah?" She readjusted her position to spread her legs wider, wanting to give him a better look at her glistening flesh. "Tell me how you would touch me."

He could feel his body tightening with arousal. "With my hand."

She bit on her bottom lip, trying to hold her amused laughter. "I think that's already a given." Then she gently sped up the motion of her fingers, her voice coming out breathless as she whispered, "You can do better than that, Spencer."

There was an intense warmth that spread along his body. Hearing her call out his name as she pleasured herself gave him a certain control of the situation. It honestly felt exhilarating to be the reason of her arousal. He was the one she wanted. He was the one to have the privilege to behold her whimpering in desperation.

He then leaned forward, a new sense of power in his voice. "I want to run my hands all over you. I want to taste you." She hummed a response, eyes locking with his. "I want to see you writhing as I map your body with my tongue."

He noticed how receptive she became to his words, her body squirming as her fingers pressed onto her clit harder. He took it as an encouragement and kept on going.

"I want to put my head between your thighs. I want to be the one sucking on all that wetness." His tongue swiped along his bottom lip as his gaze traveled down the slickness dripping between her legs. "Look at how soaking wet you are, taking pleasure in my voice as you desperately play with yourself."

Y/n believed Spencer was a smart man. She also believed it when he said he was a fast learner, yet actually hearing his erotic suggestion while he watched her so earnestly drove her over the edge. Her other hand slid across her breast, pinching her aroused nipple as she continued the erratic movement of her fingers. Her eyelids dropped at the sensation traveling through her body.

"I want to make you feel good until you can't breathe," she heard him say, his voice growing more strained. "Until you can't see, until you can't think of anything else but the overwhelming pleasure I will give to you."

She whimpered out a desperate sigh. The snarl of pleasure that tore itself from his throat at her desperation was unlike anything he had ever experienced before. This glorious feeling of knowing she craved him, that she needed him as badly as he did was indescribable it gave him more power.

"I want to ruin you in the best way possible."

She inhaled sharply, time standing still for a moment. Her eyes then snapped open, landing on him splaying his hands over his knees. Her insides wrenched. Her chest was heaving as her fingers slowed down while she tried to register the refined yet filthy words coming out of his mouth. "Well, aren't you quite the poet."

She saw him shrug his shoulders with a bashful smile curling on his lips. "I read a lot."

A breathless laugh escaped her mouth. "Of course you do."

Then her eyes skimmed across his face, noticing the way his eyes glazed over her. His gaze was a slow pull, a gentle tug at the edge of her consciousness. It was evident in the way her body responded, her core alight with the fire he had been patiently building, throwing more fuel over it with each second that passed.

"You're so pretty," he gently spoke, raking his eyes along the span of her exposed body. Then he couldn't help himself as the next words slipped out of his mouth without much thought, "Put a finger inside yourself."

She tensed for a slight moment before she relaxed. "Giving me orders now?"

"I want to see how tight you are."

Her breath hitched at his words. There was a moment of silence as she slipped a finger into her entrance, her body quivering at the pressure. She moved it slowly, feeling the slickness of her walls clenching around her finger that she let out a moan.

"Add another finger. I know you can take it," he ordered, almost drooling at the sight in front of him. His gaze roamed her flesh, drinking in her naked body, the line of her neck, the peak of her breasts, the flare of her hips, the way she writhed with the pressure of her fingers, and her moan—god, the noises she made. It grew louder as he told her to go faster, her body quivering when he remarked that she was not fast enough.

"You can do better than that, Y/n."

She let out a loud gasp at the sound of her name, her back arching away from the couch, her eyes instantly locking with his. She felt so light-headed, so hot, so unbelievably wet. She started to come aware of everything. The feeling of her fingers digging into her soft flesh, continuously swirling against her heat, and the way his eyes soaked in her every movement. She could feel the weight of his stare and it was enough to throw her over the edge, her fingers moving at a quicker pace.

"Are you close?"

"Yes," she confirmed, her legs beginning to burn as she felt herself getting closer to the steady rhythm she had created with herself. Small whimpers slipped through her lips as she felt the familiar sensation tightening in the pit of her stomach, her mind already losing focus of her surroundings.

"Stop touching yourself."

His sudden voice pulled her back to reality, eyes narrowing in his direction. Somehow she managed to halt her movement as she watched him slowly rise from his seat, striding across the room with leisured yet determined steps. Then he positioned himself right in front of her, standing above her so that she had to tilt her head upward to see his face.

"I'm a man of my word." He slowly lowered himself, dropping down to his knees. A slow, sinful smile snuck its way along his lips as his hand grazed the satin span of her thigh. "I do want to ruin you."

She made a little noise, halfway between a sigh and a moan as a long finger brushed featherlight over her sex. Her fingers slowly slipped away as her eyes trained on him, watching the way he carefully slid a finger between her wetness, feeling his callused pad swipe along her slick folds. And when she thought she couldn't get more aroused than this, he proved her wrong by closing the distance, his mouth wrapped around her throbbing clit.

He grunted in delight as her slickness dampened his jaw.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured, and she felt the warm gust of his exhale into her heat. It made her walls flex just as his tongue dived inside her. She leaned back and writhed as he eagerly licked between her slit, wrapping his arms around her thighs, holding her in place as he devoured her hot flesh. She faintly looked down at him and found his eyes boring into hers, watching her intently as he wrapped his lips around her sweet spot and sucked every inch of her like a man starved.

She closed her eyes, her fingers tangling in his thick, untamed hair as she felt another wave of pleasure hit her. His tongue was pressed flat up against her, lapping at her eagerly before moving to twirl around her clit deliciously. She could feel her high approaching, thighs already trembling and he found that to be the perfect time to pull her in closer by the thighs, wrapping his arms securely around them to bring her core closer to his face.

Feeling her body shake, he wasted no time, tongue furiously licking against her and sliding the muscle in and out easily. His growl rumbled against her wetness as she spasmed, her face a mess of sweat and tears as he lapped up her folds, his tongue sliding into her and pressing on the walls. It didn't take long for her to moan out his name as the sensation struck her body, his hands firmly supported her convulsing body over his tongue to help ride out her high.

She pulled onto his hair with both of her hands, moving her hips against his face as he continued to groan and lick her through her climax. Utterly dazed and covered in a sheen of sweat with a pleasant tingling sensation traveling throughout her body, she watched as he slowly straightened himself, grabbing onto her arm and pulling her into a sitting position.

Then he didn't wait anymore longer as he buried his face in her chest, mouth circling onto her hard nipple. Shoulders tensing, she grabbed a handful of his hair. His tongue was lapping eagerly while his hands roamed her breasts greedily, trying to grab as much of her as he possibly could.

She was dizzy with feverish need, pulling him closer to her chest, getting herself drunk on the caresses against her skin. It wasn't until she felt fingers sliding into her pulsing, sensitive heat that she let out a desperate moan, louder than she intended to.

"Spencer," she whimpered, her body starting to shake again. "What are you doing?"

"Giving you pleasure," he murmured against her skin. Then he proceeded to prove his words by thrusting his fingers steadily into her while his thumb rubbed onto her clit. Her hips buckled while her hand fumbled everywhere in search of something to hold before gripping it along his wrist, a familiar yet stronger sensation pushing through her body for the second time.

This high was fast. It was consuming her so much that she could already feel the coil in her stomach, her mind going blank. She arched her back, instinctively shoving away a bit from him, but he moved closer, rocking his fingers in and out of her body at a more rapid pace, almost violently.

"That's it, I got you," he growled in a rich, rounded tone, slamming his fingers into her. "You can take it."

The pleasure suddenly exploded inside of her, sending her over the edge as she cried louder than before, the sensation sweeping her up into orgasmic bliss and leaving her panting heavily. The feeling was all-consuming, overwhelming in all the best ways. She let out a sob as he eased her through it, kissing her breasts while her thighs shook around his arm.

Her breathing slowed as she came back down to reality and she reached out her hand for him. There was a coy smile on his lips as he sat beside her, pulling her body into his arms as he gently hooked a hand under one of her legs, placing it on top of his thighs.

She might not be as smart as he was, but she could tell exactly what he had in mind.

"Spencer," she hissed, throwing him a pointed look. But her protest trembled as he gently kissed the corner of her lips, traveling along her jawline before he buried his head in the crook of her neck.

"I think you can give me another one."

A hiss of pleasure instantly flew out of her mouth as she felt him thrusting two fingers inside her swollen flesh. There was no mercy in his sudden movement this time, curling his digits inside her vigorously, the sensation had her legs shaking all over again. She could hear how drenched she was, the slick sound of him driving into her echoed around the room, followed by a harsh, loud sob ripping through her throat.

The heel of his palm pressed against her clit as he continued to curl his fingers inside her. Her thighs tightened around his hand, trying desperately to push him away from the overwhelming sensation. Her body was already shaking from the sheer number of times of pleasure, unsure that she could take much more.

"I-I can't—" She begged him, her fingers wrapping around his wrist, trying to pull his hand away but instead the vibrations began to ripple throughout her body. Her eyes rolled back as her mouth dropped open, no longer able to speak as a loud squeal left her lips, the sound distorted by the pleasure surging through her body. “P-Please. I can’t.”

"One more—just one last time."

She cried out and huffed breaths in her nose as his fingers curled and started to rock almost violently forward, swinging hard against a spot deep inside her. Her eyes went wide, feeling something entirely new, like nothing she had ever experienced before. "I-I can't, it's too much—fuck."

"That's it. Such a good girl." He growled, panting with exertion, using the strength of his whole arm to push in and out at a blistering speed. "You look so pretty like this."

"I-I'm going to make a mess—" A panic cry left her mouth, her whole body tensing. Her grip tightened around his forearm, reveling in the flex of his tendons as he rocked his fingers inside her violently.

"Then make a mess." He kissed the side of her neck. "Come on, make a mess for me."

He was forcing out filthy, squelching noises from her body and all she could do was lean into him, wordlessly panting needy noises. Then his thumb circled around her clit, pushing it up into her body so harshly she was gripping onto his arm for dear life. She couldn't take it anymore, her body shaking as the intensity rippled along her core.

And then it suddenly came to her—so intense, so violent, sweeping her away as she almost blacked out at the force of pleasure. She could hear his distinctive voice, triumphant, then turning into lavish praise as she screamed, focusing on a sudden pressure in her gut before a strong gush of liquid surged from her body. He watched her tremble and held her close to him as she screamed out his name, his fingers continuously circling her clit roughly.

Y/n had never felt a pleasure so intense until now. Her body was spasming, her legs were shaking, and her eyes were closed shut. She held onto him desperately and felt his heart beating under her palm as he kissed the side of her head, gently muttering praises as he helped her ride out the tide of pleasure convulsing in her blood. And when every drip of liquid escaped her body, she finally let out a sigh, her head falling against his shoulder.

The silence was calm after the wave, but his voice slowly filled her head with a hint of triumph. "So, did I do well?"

She was tired; utterly, delightfully tired. But she wasn't in the place to hear him gloat. Her eyes slightly trained on him, and hating the smug look on his face, she slowly turned her body towards him. She bit her bottom lip to stop herself from smiling as she pressed her lips on his cheek, softly, barely even touching it, before she trailed her lips down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as she felt his grip on her hip. "What are you doing?"

"Just reciprocating your words." She then opened her mouth, her tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I want to ruin you too."

Her parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as she softly sucked on the spot below his ear. He let out a soft whimper, melting into her touch. What was it about neck kisses that made them feel so good? Was it the tingles that ran down his spine through to the soles of his feet with every kiss? Was it the feeling of intimacy clouding his thoughts?

Y/n wasn't even fully recovered from the pleasure still strumming in her system but she found herself reaching over, sinking onto her knees in front of him. His eyes went wide momentarily. Realization hit him as he understood what she wanted, what she wanted to do to him, his eyes studying the determined look on her face.

"A-Are you sure?" He asked carefully, sliding a hand into her hair. "Because if you change your mind, I'm more than fine."

She dragged her eyes up to his body, lingering for a few seconds on the vest he was still clad in and caressing the blush dipping along his neck before settling on his face. "I think it's only fair. Besides," she muttered, giving him a sly smile, looking into the passion brimming in his eyes. "I really want to suck you."

He grunted at her words, leaning onto the couch as he watched her. She wanted to bask in the warmth of his gaze, the utter devotion in his eyes as she settled between his thighs. She leaned closer, raking her nails over the contours of his legs, the material of his pants rippling under her fingers.

Biting her lip, she slid one hand over his bulge. He let out a sharp breath, desperately whispering her name as she unbuttoned the belt around his waist. Her movements were slow, lingering the anticipation in his tensed muscles. And after fumbling with his belt, he finally helped her, pulling himself out of the confinement of his pants.

She sighed in satisfaction. God, he was beautiful. He was thick and solid, warm and long with a slight curve. Veins dance along his length and she traced a finger up to the flared head, before dipping her head, her lips following. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored and her head completely emptied as she leaned in and licked it up.

He grunted weakly, out of amusement or desire, she didn't know—maybe both. Humming, she wrapped one hand around him and stroked him slowly. A pause settled between them before she finally took him fully in her mouth. He was all salt-tinged mixed with something undeniably him, his taste bursting on her tongue. She kept swallowing him down, her jaw stretching wide as she struggled to get every inch of him inside her, wrapping her hand around what was left.

"Y/n," he groaned between ragged breaths as her mouth wrapped around the girth of his thickness. He had his hand buried deep in her hair, holding it up in his grip when she tightened her hold on him, squeezing him gently. The added stimulation made his eyes roll back, a masculine sound of pleasure resounding in his throat. "You're unbelievable."

The compliment and the urgency in his voice made her wonder how much she was able to make him lose control. She swirled her tongue around him, swallowing him back down as she give him a rough, firm pump. She hollowed her cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across her tongue and he hit the back of her throat. The vibrations traveled down, shooting through his veins and he almost came apart right there.

"Shit," he rasped out, tugging on her hair as his hips jerked up, and she gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "You're taking me so well."

She couldn't stop the proud smile forming on her face. She was the one who made him lose control—the one who could awaken the dumbstruck look in his eyes. Her mouth enclosed around him again and she repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with her tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until she had every inch of him in her mouth. He took her head in a tender hold and slammed her face down, his hips flexing to meet her.

The low wet sounds of her gagging meld with his gravelly broken moans were so erotic. She glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as she moved her head in a rapid motion. He panted another hoarse sigh out, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air, hips jolting upward.

"I can't hold any longer," he whispered hoarsely.

He was on the edge of his release, she could feel him pulsing in her mouth. The mixture of intimacy and pleasure overwhelmed his body, and instead of pulling away, she only grew more aggressive in her attempt, sucking harder and tongue pressing firmer. Her efforts were rewarded by the hot ropes of liquid hitting her throat. His head was starting to spin, stars danced behind his eyes as he felt her swallow everything he had to give, save for the small dribble past her lips as she unraveled her mouth around his shaft.

She smiled up at him, enjoying the way he was leaning back after his bliss, and despite how heavy his body felt, he used a thumb to wipe away the line of liquid on her mouth. "I think we both are very much ruined."

She let him pull her up, settling himself on top of his thighs. His wide hands engulfed her face before he brought her down to him, capturing her lips in a soft, searing kiss. He kissed her with every ounce of power he had. Kissed her as he had daydreamed about so many times. He kissed her as he had never kissed anyone before, and it was messy and rough and probably looked horrific from a different point of view, but it felt right.

Then he pulled away, yet kept his hold on her. She carefully resigned herself, feeling completely in the moment with him, her eyes lost in his lingering gaze as she scanned over his features. His eyes appeared darker in this light of the room and angle, but she could still see the softness of them.

He suddenly reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The unexpected action had her freeze above him. It awfully felt too intimate, but on the other hand, it felt... somewhat peaceful. Calming. Serene.

And at that moment, she suddenly became aware of their surroundings, of what had took place. The way she was naked and perched on his lap. The way he was mostly fully clothed. The way they were trying to catch their breath.

Then her knee grazed against the deadly weapon still attached to his hip and she jerked, becoming aware of who he was, who she was supposed to be. This unexpected turn of events was already a slight curve in the dynamic between an authority and somebody who was involved in a case.

An unsettling feeling suddenly weighed in her gut as she studied his face, pushing and pulling her consciousness as if she was stepping into a pit of regret… into something that was unforeseeable—into something that wasn't going to end well.

>> NEXT PART

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 1 year

Note

Reader loves Ghost, but so shy to tell her feelings, at the same time he also has feelings for the reader but hesitates to talk. They just stare each other, all day long.

At that point Soap to Ghost: Just say that you like her!

Also to reader: Just say that you like him!

Matchmaker Soap, approved 👌🏻

Ayeee! Yes, I love this. Hope you enjoy this one🩷🙈

Soap, The Matchmaker

Simon Riley x Reader

Warnings: swearing, mentions of nervousness, fluff

"Lass, just tell him how you feel!” Soap pleaded with you. "You stare at the lad enough, surely you've got the confidence to tell him."

"Hell no. Johnny, he barely talks to me as is. I'd just end up embarrassing myself." You smiled sadly, waiving away your friends' attempts to have you confess.

"He doesn't talk to you, because he's nervous! Trust me, he likes you too." Soap was growing desperate.

"It's okay, Johnny. I'll settle with admiring him from afar." You gave the Scot a pat on his shoulder before making your way to the bar for another beer.

Johnny groaned audibly and let his eyes drift over to where his Lieutenant was standing. Ghost always had his eyes on you whenever you were around him. Johnny couldn't possibly understand how you couldn't tell he was interested in you. The man was your literal shadow.

He stood up abruptly, and made his way over to Simon, a cheeky grin forming on his lips. "Hey, L.T."

Simon regarded him carefully as he moved his gaze from you. "Soap."

"Don't think I don't catch you staring at her." He nudged Ghost playfully. "You should try talking to her, tell her how you feel."

"No clue what you're talking about Sargeant."

"Away and bile yer heid. You and I both know you're fond of the lass." Soap chided, narrowing his eyes at his masked friend. "She might be fond of you too, you know, just probably hasn't got the courage to tell ye because you're scary as shite."

Ghost only grunted in response but felt his cheeks heating from under his mask. It was true. He was fond of you and had been for a long time. The issue was that he wasn't used to these feelings and frankly didn't know how to act.

Truth was that you made him nervous. Anytime he was around you, he'd get butterflies in his belly, and his tongue became molasses, unable to get any words out. He felt like a damn school boy with a crush for the first time.

He looked over to Johnny, to find the mohawked man already smiling at him. "Fuck off, Johnny."

"Love you too. L.T." Soap chuckled.

By the end of the night, Soap realized his efforts were in vain. The two of you clearly showed no inclination to tell each other how you felt, and the Scot felt he'd be doomed to watch you two skirt around your feelings forever.

Little did he know, Simon was mustering up the courage to ask you if he could walk you back to base.

"Y/N." You heard your voice being called from behind you at the bar, and you turned your head.

"Lieutenant." Your cheeks turned a light pink, flustered under the masked man's heavy stare. "What can I do for you?"

"I was.. going to head back to base. Was wondering if you'd care to join me." Ghost's heart was beating rapidly, his palms sweating. He was so goddamned nervous.

Your smile from his words could've lit up the entire room, and Ghost could've sworn he felt his heart stop. "I'd love to, sir."

He gave a small nod, before offering his arm to you. You wrapped your hand around his bicep, and let him lead the way back to base.

The walk back to base was long, and was filled with a comfortable silence for the better part of it.

When you were about halfway to base, Simon had cleared his throat. "Nice night out here."

You giggled at his attempt for small talk, and nodded your head. "It is. I love when I can see the stars. Makes you feel so small."

He turned his head to you, a smile forming on his lips, unbeknownst to you. "My mum used to say that when I was younger. Said we are all like specks of dust when it comes to the size of the universe."

"Smart woman." You smiled.

"That she was." Simon nodded, coming to a stop, and turning to you. "Hey."

You stopped alongside him, turning to him with a bemused expression. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just.." Simon felt like he was going to pass out. He could feel a bead of sweat dripping from his head, and his hands started to shake. "Had something I wanted to tell you."

You gave him a soft smile, and nodded your head to encourage him to continue. "Okay."

"Y/N. I can't.. bloody hell.." He fumbled for words, his tongue becoming thick in his mouth. "I cannot get you out of my head. You're always there. And hell, it frustrates the shit out of me."

Your eyes widened, and took a step back from him. "Oh…I'm sorry." You didn't know what else to say.

Simon, seeing the alarm in your eyes, immediately continued. "Fuck, no no not like that. That came out wrong. God I'm not good at this." He rubbed the back of his head nervously.

And then it hit you. He was trying to confess that he liked you. Johnny was right all along.

Your lips upturned slightly, and you moved closer to him, placing a hand softly on his arm. "I.. I can't get you out of my head either, Simon. You seem to have a permanent spot up here." You pointed to your head with a smile.

Simon felt all the weight on his shoulders fall at your words, his eyes lighting up. He didn't know what to say next. This was beyond his area of expertise… God he wished Johnny were here to tell him-

His thoughts cut short, as he felt your fingers dance at the bottom of his balaclava. You looked up to him questioning if it was okay to continue.

He gave a short nod, and you started to slowly lift up the edge of his mask, stopping it just below his nose. You didn't want to overstep anymore than you felt you already had. You saw his lips curve upward before he slowly leaned down toward you.

You met him halfway, and pressed your lips to his. His lips were rough, and chapped, but the kiss was incredibly gentle. He sighed deeply against your lips, and his hands ghosted on your hips.

Pulling away, he gave you a cheeky smile, before pulling off the rest of his mask. You let out a small gasp, as your eyes trailed over his features.

He was prettier than you ever could have imagined. Even with the scars and marks, he was the most beautiful man you'd ever laid eyes on. "You're so handsome, Simon."

You reached a hand out and placed it on his cheek. He nestled his head into your palm slightly, placing a kiss to your wrist.

He leaned down once more to capture your lips in his, this time fully resting his hands on your hips. "Think I owe Johnny a drink for this one. Mate helped me out." He chuckled as he pulled away breathless. He grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

"Think we both do. Who would've thought. Soap, the matchmaker."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Why do I want to write a smutty part two for everything😭😭😭😭😭

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year

Text

Until Sunrise - A Khal Drogo/Reader One Shot Story.

So I was feeling a certain way about Jason Momoa, and realised that it is absolutely uncalled for that I have not yet written for my favourite character of his! I’ve no idea how alive/dead the GoT fandom is (I’m expecting dead, lol!) but I’ve tagged anyone I can think who might be interested, or because I know whatever form he’s presented in, you like him because he’s Jason motherfucking Momoa. As you should.

Words - 1,375

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

The moments you lived for; they were only ever fleeting at best. He would send for you, as he always did, picking one of his favourites from the tent of women devoted entirely to keeping the Khal content, eyes that burned with envy following you as you departed, ready for him. They always did.

Walking over the dried-up terrain, you cast your eyes to the sky, seeing the moon beginning to rise, knowing the silver orb will be glowing fully through the inky night sky by the time he’s done having his way with you. He never allows you to remain until sunrise.

Entering his tent, you find him standing in wait for you, the splendour of his nakedness appealing as always, approaching with long strides and taking you roughly by the arm, as is Drogo’s way. He rarely shows anything less than dominant claiming, towing you to his bed, making short work of your clothes.

“How do you want me tonight, my Khal?” you ask, your Dothraki flawless. He does speak the common tongue, much more than he would ever let on, yet you have only ever communicated with him in his own language.

He takes a moment for contemplation, his finger running along your jawline. “Face down, backside up.” Not surprising. He always prefers to take you from behind. You feel his weight dip the bed behind you, one hand placed at the top of your spine, the other beginning to stroke at you. His hand is oiled, as is his only real consideration for you, that you be slippery enough to sheathe his huge cock. Foreplay is a word unknown to him, in any language.

It is surprising to you, as your folds are parted, that he simply hasn’t done the minimal to wet your walls and swiftly breech you, his fingers touring you, exploring the petal soft flesh of your sex. Those slippery fingertips swirl around, until they reach your little bud, a soft gasp fluttering from your lips, Drogo focusing in on it.

“Good?"

You are confused, pleasantly, though. “Yes, my Khal."

He takes a moment of pause, ceasing the rubbing. “Truly? Or do you just speak this to pacify me?" He leans to you, his breath hot against the back of your neck. “Tell me how you like it.”

You are too scared of sparking his terrifying rage to even question why he cares, only pleasantly surprised that for once, he actually does. “A little softer to begin with, less pressure.” When his fingers begin to circle again, it’s pure bliss, your lips parting on a soft moan. “Just like that, my Khal.”

He straightens, his dark eyes watching, enchanted by the sight of you spread before him, his fingers quickening a little, dragging them back and forth, offering the same at your entrance, your arousal bathing them. He likes that, the feel of wet silk warming his fingertips, pushing them inside of you, a grumble rattling his throat.

“Soaking,” he grunts, dragging them back, returning to your aching bud. “You feel beautiful.” It must be different for him, to feel the arousal of a woman, since you can bet he never really has before. He oils each whore, dousing his cock, fucking them until he dances with the stars before they are cast aside, their purpose served.

Little glimmers skitter over your nerves, pleasure beginning to make you trickle hot for him, Drogo shifting, removing his hand as he crouches behind you, replacing the contact with his tongue.

“Oh, gods above!” you hiss, the warmth of his mouth stoking your fire, the very first you’ve ever had settle between your legs and indulge you in the hot, flat wet of long, languid licks.

“Turn.” He demands, his rough hands parting your thighs as soon as you are upon your back, his mouth reconnecting with you, greedy, his beard rubbing against you as he licks at the honey of your cunt. “Still good?”

“Incredible!” you cry, your hands clutching the pelts you lie upon. “Please, do not stop!”

A smirk tilts his full lips, his eyes finding yours over the rise of your breasts, tongue rapidly placing a firm lick over your bud. “She demands of her Khal?”

He sounds more amused than anything, but to hear the tinge of balefulness, of him bringing you back to yourself, you fluster a little. “I... but what I mean to say is... I...”

He moves until his face is above yours, placing a finger to your lips, and a kiss to your throat. “Quiet with your words. No more talking, but you will let me hear how much you enjoy it.” Moving back to your apex, each lick he bestows to you is a rain of celestial decadence, tongue beating over the swell of your clit, the nectar of your arousal soaking his lips as he eats you feverishly, without pause, like a starving wolf would gorge upon the carcass of a deer.

“Oh, you are divine, my Khal!” you cry, incoherence following as he sucks upon you, cheeks hollowing, his eyes almost black, pupils blown with lust as he grunts against the sopping mess of your cunt, enjoying you in his mouth. That is until he moves to arrow himself into your soaking centre, the many inches of his girthy cock splitting you wide, his mouth closing in a hard suck upon your nipple.

“Drogo,” he breathes, tongue beating over the little stiffened peak. “I want to hear my name upon your lips.” He grasps your jaw, turning your head to face him, eyes homed in upon you in an unbreakable stare.

Your mouths meet in a feverish kiss, a clash of tongues and teeth, your moans spilling from your lips onto his like wine. “You are divine, Drogo.” Taking him is like taking an entire storm within you, Drogo moving to kneel before you, grasping your thighs as his eyes fall to watch his glossy cock daggering into you deeply, an earthy rumble of a groan filling the air.

You are singed upon the heat he drives into you, cool fire flooding your veins, freezing and melting you again right to your very marrow as he pounds into your cunt, evoking your wails, your hands reaching to stroke the wide plane of muscles across his broad chest. The dark of his pubic hair glints in the candlelight, soaked from the dew of your cunt, your eyes falling to view it, to witness how his cock looks as it parts your walls again and again.

It is a sight you have never beheld before, only ever being taken from behind, your eyes fixated on how sumptuously erotic it is, to watch how good he looks inside of you, his hands beginning to stroke your skin as a bonfire of pure sinful bliss rages between you.

He moves his hand to your face, thumb dragging over your lips until they part, pushing it into your mouth. “Get it wet.” You meet his simple demand, sucking on it until it is as he requires, Drogo moving it to begin stroking at your clit once more. It’s more than you can handle, and he knows it, smirking down at you once again until his face contorts in bliss, grunting deeply as he gives his cock with keen thrusts, the sounds of your sweaty flesh smacking together filling the tent.

He moves within you with nothing short of brutal voracity, until you can feel it radiating through you, stars sweeping from the strokes of his thumb as your light begins to shine out over his horizon, your body blooming as you fall apart around him, the fluttering of your cunt dragging his release from him. Thick ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls as he spills into you deep, breathless and spent, pulling from you and resting down on his back.

You know that this is your cue to get up and leave quietly, yet when you rise, your escape from the bed is halted by a large hand splayed to your chest, Drogo pushing you back down. An arm slides beneath your shoulders, your Khal pulling you against his chest, fingers stroking swirls over your arm.

"Stay."

And you do. Until the sun rises.

#khal drog #khal drogo fanfiction #jason momoa #jason momoa fanfiction #khal drogo smut #khal drogo x female reader #jason momoa smut #jason momoa x female reader #khal drogo imagine #jason momoa imagine #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones smut #GoT #GoT fanfiction #GoT smut

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katelynnwrites · 6 months

Text

Girl Put Your Records On (Tell Me Your Favourite Song) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: syd’s injury 😔

word count: 2077

summary: requested, domestic fluff with sydney

a/n: syd’s back! syd’s back! syd’s back!

It’s no secret that Sydney loves cooking. She has even said that if she wasn’t playing football professionally, she would be a chef.

And maybe you’re a little biased as her girlfriend and frequent beneficiary of her cooking but you are sure that she would have made an amazing one.

The German woman cooks a large variety of things and she is always down to experiment but her favourite is pasta.

Sydney’s homemade pasta is one of your favourite things to eat and you would even go so far as to call it your comfort food.

Your girlfriend makes the entire dish from scratch and you swear you can feel the love and care she puts into it.

The extent of your fondness for it and for any of Syd’s cooking really, is well known. There has been more than one occasion where your fellow Bayern teammates have teased you that you’re only with Sydney for her skills in the kitchen.

That couldn’t be further from the truth though.

You love everything about your girlfriend, from her every perfection down to her littlest flaw.

If it were up to you, you would say that a certain Sydney Matilda Lohmann is complete perfection.

There is so much you adore about her and that includes each moment that you spend with her.

Making pasta together with your girl is one of your favourite moments.

You and your girlfriend frequently have teammates over for meals. Sydney’s cooking tends to have that effect on people and while making pasta with friends is nice, you love making pasta with Syd much more.

When it is just you and her, the Bayern Munich midfielder putting her vintage record player on to as she put it, set the vibe.

Your girlfriend spins you around the kitchen when any of her favourite records come on and you’d ask her, her favourite song in between fits of laughter.

Sydney’s favourite song changes all the time based on how she’s been feeling so you like to ask her what it is. It gives you an idea of her current mood and state of mind.

Her hazel eyes are always bright when she answers you and you cherish all of her answers and the way she looks as she gives them.

More often than not, she has flour on her clothes and hair. She leaves streaks of it behind on you, a visible reminder of her hands on your body.

You love these smudges of white, left on your hips, shoulders and stomach, sometimes on your cheek if Sydney’s feeling mischievous enough to swipe her flour covered finger across your cheek.

It’s especially heartwarming after tough games and it goes like this.

Sydney makes her pasta dough and you hand her the ingredients in the right order, reading out the recipe from one of her cookbooks. Her scribbled handwriting in the margins of said cookbooks mark them as hers.

You continue leafing through the recipes, giggling at some of the notes and comments she has left while your girlfriend wraps the dough up before putting it to chill in the fridge.

The German woman then proceeds to make the sauce, tomato or cream based, depending on her mood.

She lets it simmer over the stove and it always smells so damn good. Syd stirs it and lets you taste test it as she cooks. The Bayern player feeds you those spoonfuls of little tastes with anxious smiles and hopeful looks, always waiting for your feedback.

You don’t know what she’s worried about because her pasta sauce is constantly amazing.

It gives you great joy to watch her face light up whenever you tell her so.

Sitting on the kitchen counter, most of the time in Syd’s clothes as you swing your legs back and forth, you fall even more head over heels in love with her.

You love watching her hum along to the song playing as she does little dance moves whenever inspiration strikes her.

Every now and then, she turns around to check on you and you have no shame in showing her just how captivated you are.

You’re starstruck because of her.

The way you look at her makes her blush and your girlfriend often ducks her head, looking back down at her pot of sauce to hide it. It really is cute of her.

When the sauce is done, Sydney washes her hands before pulling you off the kitchen counter. The German woman always takes the opportunity to kindly suggest that she can help pass the remaining time more quickly.

And you always take her up on it because who would say no to what she has in mind?

Making out with your girlfriend is like something out of a dream. With her lips on yours and whispered sighs, her hands skimming your bare skin, well you’re in love with the feeling and her.

The last minutes of chilling time for the pasta dough go by fast and then Sydney is waltzing you back into the kitchen.

You stand beside her, the only place you ever want to be, even if you are given the whole world to choose from and roll out the pasta dough with her.

The both of you take turns to run the pasta wheel over the rolled sheets and Syd never fails to make fun of you for how much neater hers turns out.

It is quick work after that, for the meal to be ready.

You set the plates out and your girlfriend finishes off her dish.

It is almost sacred to be able to curl up with the hazel eyed woman, with whatever show the two of you are binge watching playing on the television while you eat together.

Moments like that give you the much needed break from football. It’s lovely to be able to chase a dream you’ve had since you were a little girl but it’s also lovely for you to be able to spend time with your girlfriend.

Since Syd cooked, you pick up the plates and take them to the kitchen to wash.

It is everything to you, to be able to share this domestic bliss with Sydney.

******

Now that she is injured, things have to change.

Not by much but rather, a simple reversal of roles.

You make the pasta and let your girlfriend taste the sauce. The German player directs you from your usual perch atop the kitchen counter.

As much as she insists that she wants to help, you simply shake your head, giving her a firm no.

You just want her to rest her ankle.

The injury had been a devastating blow to your girl who had been so excited to start the season. Prior to the injury, her form had been brilliant and she’d just come off a solid win against Iceland.

Your girlfriend was just getting back the sparkle in her eyes every time she steps onto the pitch. It had been missing since Germany’s exit from the World Cup and now you feared it would be a while more before you saw it in its full beauty.

You hate how injury prone Sydney is, hate the way the world is so unkind to her. Her bad luck has it that she is always getting into a really good flow right before it is cut short. Fate is cruel sometimes.

There’s nothing you can do about that but you can make her dinner. It is the least you can do for the hazel eyed woman you are so in love with.

You’ve only finished simmering the pasta sauce and turned off the stove for a moment before Sydney is making grabby hands at you.

It’s tomato tonight because that is what the midfielder had been wanting.

You laugh at her gestures and scoop out a spoonful of sauce as she’d asked.

Carefully, you feed it to her but not before you make a show of blowing on it, to cool it down.

‘Good?’ You ask, taking a step back expectantly.

‘It’s really good.’ Your girl replies.

‘Yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?’ You tease.

‘I’m not! I-’ Sydney backtracks defensively, her eyes widening rapidly.

It’s adorable how easy it is to fluster her.

‘I’m just kidding sonnenschein.’ You admit and she scowls, crossing her arms and huffing, ‘I knew that.’

‘You sure?’ You mock and the taller woman deigns to reply you by dramatically rolling her eyes.

‘I’m sure. I am also sure that your tomato sauce isn’t as good as mine though.’

‘I know. Yours will always be better.’ You shrug easily, stepping back in between Syd’s legs and planting a gentle kiss onto her lips.

Your girlfriend chuckles and your heart lightens.

******

Eating dinner with the German player sitting next to you has your heart fluttering in all kinds of good ways.

You are never going to stop cherishing these moments with her.

Syd notices you staring at her and she blushes, mumbling, ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Because you are so incredibly beautiful and I love you.’

It is a simple, effortless confession but your girlfriend’s face lights up.

‘I love you too.’

She sets her plate down on the coffee table and smiles, ‘I fall more and more in love with you with each and every day that I spend with you.’

Sydney’s words give you the warmest of feelings inside and when she smoothly straddles you, despite the walking boot she has on, you know the feeling is mutual.

‘Syd…’ You groan, torn between wanting to make sure she is being cautious about her injury and wanting her to kiss you.

‘I’m being careful.’ She insists before leaning down to connect her lips to yours.

She tastes like tomato sauce and cheese but you don’t care because it’s Sydney.

Sydney who is the living definition of sunshine. Sydney who for reasons you can’t fathom is as in love with you as you are with her.

You have a lot of reasons to be thankful but your girlfriend is the biggest one.

******

It’s with kiss swollen lips and messy hair that you take yours and Syd’s dinner plates into the kitchen.

Your girlfriend trails behind you with her crutches, her lips and hair in a similar state.

There is no mistaking the satisfied smirk on her face though.

‘Here.’ You breathe, lifting her up onto the kitchen counter after depositing both your plates into the sink. Her crutches are propped next to her.

Sydney wiggles comically as she gets comfortable and you giggle.

You put her record player on and start on the dirty dishes.

‘Let me help please?’ The hazel eyed woman implores.

You’re going to refuse and assure her that you manage but remember how helpless the rehab has been making her feel despite her best attempts to hide it.

Ever selfless, you know that Syd would never do anything she deems might harm the team dynamic, even if it really wouldn’t.

You want to spoil her but know that that is not what she needs right now.

So as a compromise, you offer her a dish towel and ask, ‘You can dry if you like?’

The Bayern midfielder gratefully takes the towel from you. She knows you know and the soft look of adoration in her gorgeous hazel eyes makes you melt.

It’s quick work, made enjoyable by the music playing and Syd’s humming along.

******

Normally you brush your teeth together and your girl links her little finger with yours but now you support her with an arm gently wrapped around her waist.

Syd has taken her walking boot off for the night so she needs to be careful not to put any sort of weight on her injured ankle.

Before she’d taken it off though, she had affectionately touched the yellow smiley face sticker you had put on it.

She hopes you know how much you and all your little gestures mean to her.

Her injury is hurting her but you make it all bearable.

So she leans into you and soaks in your touch, giggling through the toothpaste foam in her mouth.

Your gaze meets hers and you know that you want this to last the rest of your life.

With the way Syd whispers about how much she loves you as she settles down to sleep with her head on your chest, you know in your heart that she wants the same.

German Translation:

sonnenschein - sunshine

#sydney lohmann #sydney lohmann x reader #sydney lohmann imagine #dfb frauen x reader #dfb frauen imagine #gerwnt imagine #gerwnt x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #fcb frauen

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may-fanfic · 1 year

Text

Away From Prying Eyes

summary: Wednesday is there to comfort you after your parents don’t show up for parent’s weekend.

warnings: none

word count: 792

((feel free to send in any request you may have ))

_____________

There was a glum look on your face when you entered Wednesday's dorm. You dragged your feet along the floor, quickly laying down on her bed. A deep breath escaped your lips as soon as your head hit her pillow. "What's with the melodramatic sighs?" Wednesday perked up, turning her entire body to you. She took in your appearance. Your cheeks were red, and a deep frown tugged onto your lips. Wednesday didn't get around to seeing you much that day due to the parents visiting; her day was hectic. She was delighted you decided to stop by.

"Your absence today was unfortunate." She missed you, and you knew that was her way of saying it. "My parents didn't show up." Her eyebrows knitted together, overlooking you entirely. She could recall how excited you were, expressing that your family told you they'd show; she wondered why they had such a sudden change of heart. "So, I spent the day with Xavier; he took me out for ice cream." Wednesday never appreciated how close the two of you were, but today, she found it comforting to know someone was there when she couldn't be.

"Why didn't you tell me? As rotten as my parents are, they would've welcomed you." You knew you'd have to meet her parents, but if you were honest, you felt intimidated. There was an underline fear that they wouldn't like you. "I didn't want to intrude." you shrugged, causing the woman to sigh, her expression softened.

"You could never." Wednesday, oftentimes, seemed cold and heartless, but there was another side to her, one that you'd been fortunate enough to know. It was that side of her that kept you near. "Do you want to lay here and sulk all day?" Despite her wording, her tone was soft and inviting. You shrugged, burying your face deeper in her pillow. Sighing softly, she rose from her seat at her desk; your eyes followed her, watching as she kicked off her shoes. "Move over." She noticed the confusion written over your face; it nearly brought a smile to her lips.

"Don't make me tell you again." You noticed the growing smirk that tugged at her lips. "Are you going to strangle me?" you teased, moving over to the other side of the bed. You only grew more confused when the girl joined you, her hand softly met your hip before she turned you over.

"I'm going to hold you." She knew it'd make you feel better, and she'd do anything to ensure your happiness. She shifted awkwardly until she was settled into you, her body firmly pressed against yours. Her chin rested in the crook of your neck, letting out a gentle breath. "Is that okay?" You hummed softly, nodding; it was more than okay. Cuddling was foreign; even being close to another person was strange for Wednesday, but with you, it felt normal.

"I'm sorry your parents didn't show." She muttered into your neck; there was a soft shrug of your shoulders; you had been glad she couldn't see your face because she'd see the disappointment written all over it. "I'm used to it, Wednesday. They always do this." Her fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt; she could feel the sorrow buried inside of you.

When you first became involved with the Addams girl. she was persistent that she wouldn't be good for you. Wednesday claimed she was unapologetically egocentric; and would never have your feelings in mind, but you soon realized that Wednesday was the most constant and reliable person you'd ever had the pleasure of knowing.

She had trouble seeing the good in herself; that was the one thing you loathed about her. Wednesday softly pecked your shoulder, causing you to roll onto your back and look up at her. You reached forward, poking out a finger, and gently brushed it through her messy bangs. "I love you." The girl wasn't good at voicing her emotions, but her face had trouble concealing them.

Her lips parted, and for a second, you thought she'd utter it back, but instead, Wednesday leaned down, and her lips brushed against yours. It was an awkward kiss; neither of you was great with romance or affection. Still, there was something nice about how her soft lips pressed against yours as if she were giving you all she could.

Your hand softly rested against her cheeks, pulling her impossibly closer until all you could feel were her gentle lips against yours. She pulled away suddenly when a loud screech came from the doorway; Wednesday snapped her head over to the direction of the noise, staring back at her roommate; she wore a big smile.

"Do not speak a word of this, Enid!"

#wednesday addams x reader #Wednesday #Wednesday Addams #wednesday series #netflix wednesday #wednsday addams #wednesday addams x female reader #wednesday addams imagine #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem reader

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wannabespacesmuggler · 3 months

Text

D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Five | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Shane Walsh sucks

Word Count: 1.2K

Author’s Note: Thanks for the continued love on this lil fic. I love them. The connection they are creating with one another is so sweet and I cannot wait to continue writing for these two idiots. Shane of course continues to be a dick and will only get worse. We're getting closer to the start of the show. I won't be retelling the entire series in this fic. Just snippets of their life together -- the show will fill in the gaps in a way. Anyway, let me know what you guys think of this one, if you want to be added to the taglist, or just want to ask me a question.

Extras: Playlist

You don’t consider yourself a jealous girlfriend; however, as you watch Shane and Lori from across the camp, you cannot help the rage that begins to simmer in your chest. The feeling makes you nauseous. You adore Lori. She’s always been like an older sister to you -- the senior girl who took you under her wing during your freshman year of high school. So the problem isn’t Lori. No, it’s the way Shane is looking at Lori. His face practically lights up with affection and warmth as he listens to her -- a stark contrast to the Shane you’ve become accustomed to since the dead started walking.

“Hey, uhm. Is everything okay?”

Glenn’s soft voice cuts through your rising temper, startling you. You look up at him with wide eyes for a second, before attempting to pull yourself together. If anyone in camp knew the exact thoughts running through your head right now, you’d be humiliated. You take a deep breath before giving Glenn a polite smile.

“Of course. Why do you ask?”

Glenn shifts awkwardly on his feet. You haven’t really had a chance to get to know to know Glenn. You could probably count on one hand how many times the two of you have interacted since he joined the camp. For the first few weeks, you assumed he didn’t like you. However, Amy informed you that his avoidance is nothing personal -- it’s just that Shane terrifies him and you’re an extension of that fear. This seems to be a common problem for you around camp. People seem intimidated by you due to your proximity to the camp’s self-proclaimed leader. It’s infuriating and isolating.

“It’s just… those are my favorite pair of jeans.”

You look down at the wash basin in front of you. You’d been so distracted by your own thoughts, that you’d completely forgotten about the clothes you were washing. As your mind continued to race, your hands began moving on their own accord with just as much ferocity. Your face flushes as you stare at Glenn’s jeans that you damn near scrubbed a hole into.

“Sorry, Glenn. Just zoned out for a second.”

Glenn gives you a kind smile, seemingly content with your answer.

“Don’t worry about it. Happens to everyone.”

He shrugs nonchalantly before wandering off towards Dale. You let out a relieved sigh once he’s out of earshot. Deciding that Glenn’s clothing has been through enough torment today, you pull his garments out of the wash basin and move to pin them up on a clothesline. As you attach the last article of clothing, you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. Before you can turn around, you hear a familiar voice.

“I’m goin’ out to hunt, wanna come?”

You furrow your brow. Daryl has mentioned how much he enjoys hunting alone -- how relaxing it is. It makes sense. He’s a loner by nature, so the constant presence of people in camp must be overwhelming. You don’t want to intrude on his personal time. Before you can ask him if he’s sure, you notice his eyes shift from you over to Shane and Lori.

Oh.

You might have been able to fool Glenn, but you can’t fool Daryl. He knows exactly what has you so riled up. You’re embarrassed that the younger Dixon has seen through your ruse. The last thing that you want is Daryl thinking less of you because of your envy. You want to explain yourself -- let him know that you’re not just some jealous girlfriend -- but the words get stuck in your throat, so you nod wordlessly at his offer and allow him to lead you into the surrounding woods.

Daryl likes the quiet -- he usually finds comfort in it, but your unusual silence, while you both move through the forest, is unbearable. You’re the conversationalist. You’re the one who retells stories about your time in King County with Shane and the Grimes family, recites all the gossip you learned from Andrea and Amy throughout the day, and complains about whatever crappy meal the group was able to put together that evening. And he likes that about you. You ask him the occasional question about Merle or hunting, but you never pry. You’re the one that talks and he’s the one that listens -- simple as that.

But right now you don’t feel like talking and it’s making him anxious. He knows he should say something, but what? Sorry your boyfriend is such a jackass? He shakes his head at the thought. Real, smooth Dixon. This is uncharted territory for him. No one ever taught him how to comfort.

A rustling in the woods saves him from his attempts at starting a conversation. Daryl puts his arm out to stop you from walking in front of him, before aiming his crossbow toward the noise. He slowly moves forward and you follow his lead, knife in hand. Eventually, a walker comes into view from behind the trees. Daryl waits for a clear shot and pulls the trigger. You let out a sigh of relief as you watch the arrow sink into the walker’s skull.

“Nice shot.”

Your voice breaks through the silence for the first time and he’s glad to hear it. He wanders over to the walker and retrieves his crossbow bolt. He wipes the tip of it off on his jeans, before looking back at you.

“You ‘lright?”

You chew on the inside of your cheek as you think about his question -- you know he’s not asking about the walker.

“I’m just worried.”

Daryl furrows his brow at your response. He doesn’t ask why, instead, he silently shifts from one foot to the other, allowing you to continue if you so choose.

“I feel like you’re the only person in this camp who sees me as a person and not just Shane’s girl -- I just don’t want that to change.”

Daryl shakes his head at the thought. He’s seen you do more for this camp in one day, than Shane’s ever done. It’s stupid really, how everyone treats you. And he knows that you have more to give than cleaning laundry and preparing meals. You don’t have to prove yourself to him -- the two of you are far past that. You’ve already earned his respect -- something Shane has yet to accomplish.

“You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout that.”

You nod at his words, but Daryl can tell that they did little to reassure you.

“I feel the same way.”

Your brows knit together in confusion over Daryl’s words.

“You’re the only person who doesn’t see me as Merle.”

His tone is sincere -- you know he genuinely means what he is saying. You wonder how many people have met the Dixon brothers and simply wrote Daryl off due to the brashness of his older brother. You watch as he awkwardly shifts from one foot to the other, obviously uncomfortable with the vulnerability in his words.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not Merle.”

This causes Daryl to laugh -- actually laugh. The sound is surprising at first -- more boyish than the usual gruffness you're used to in his voice, but it’s nice. And it makes you smile brightly, knowing you’re the reason for his laughter.

“C’mon, we should head back.”

You allow him to take the lead again, navigating through the woods once more. He might not have caught any squirrel, but the two of you are not coming back to camp empty-handed. A newfound understanding washes over the both of you, bonding you to one another.

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#twd #The Walking Dead #walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #Rick Grimes #shane walsh #merle dixon #glenn rhee #lori grimes #the walking dead imagine #walking dead imagine #Norman Reedus #norman reedus imagine #norman reedus x reader

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kitmoas · 7 months

Text

when the veneer crumbles

the sounds of water are always relaxing

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: **18+ MINORS DNI**, SMUT, dark and demonic themes, death, possession, drowning, magic use, Mommy kink

as per usual if there is anything I missed let me know

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this one was late, had a lot of car and financial shit I needed to figure out but I finally got it finished. This was one that i always knew how i wanted it to end, even from last year when i first planned it for the Occult series, but for some reason it was REALLY hard to put my idea into words. Hopefully it's not HORRIBLE, i'm a bit rusty after taking more then a few months off. The rest of them will be better I promise lol

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

The crickets in the distance are a welcome change to the busy streets of the city, cars honking

nonstop during your work day. The world you live in is hectic and out of control but the farther you walk into the almost clear empty darkness the more you can feel the control you naively gain. Stepping into the barely touched woods behind the mostly abandoned house was something that you had missed, a childhood memory that had died suddenly.

Allowing your mind to wander to the summers that you would spend here out on the lake, jumping off the dock, and laughing with your cousins was the welcome peace you needed as you settled along the rickety wood. Even if those fun times were cut short at your aunt’s sudden death, you knew that being here gave you just a moment of your innocence back.

Stepping onto the rickety wood carefully, you cringe internally as your arm tightens momentarily around the rolled up soft blanket. You should have known better to bring a water proof material but it was too late for that. Knees cracking slightly as you lean down, the smooth fabric flaps in the wind and you sigh softly in relief as you are able to fully settle on the dock. Deciding to stretch out was a bit of a mistake, in your time away you forgot just how soothing the sound of water lapping at the damp wood was.

Goosebumps spread across your skin as you slowly came to consciousness, brittle wind chilling you to the bone as you rub the sleep out of your eye. The fog is dense, and confusing as it was supposed to be a clear night. Slowly sitting up, your bones crack as you stretch as much as possible without rocking the dock too much. The unstable wood is loud even with the bare minimum movement causing you to flinch as it echoes across the empty field.

Squinting through the haze, you try to figure out if you can gauge just how late it is by the placement of the moon. The only thing you can see is a weird tunnel out in the middle of the lake, almost like a tornado of gray. Immediate fear isn’t your first thought, though you begin to question just how awake you are.

Condensation makes the wood wet, slipping as you try to stand up but it's the glowing red orbs in the distance that makes you freeze in your half crouched position. They are captivating even from afar. The air around you is thick, filled with the now red tinted fog that almost looks like it's bleeding. Heavy and molasses-like as it lays on your skin, eyes flickering around you try to make sense of your surroundings.

When she gets close enough to see smaller details, your brain slows almost to a complete stop. She’s entirely too breathtakingly beautiful and tragically horrific at the same time. No color to her skin, it’s almost as though she comes directly from one of the old black and white television shows your mother liked to watch. The woman is wearing tight clothing, torn and ripped sporadically. Her eyes almost seem so gray that they are an ethereal foggy green, only flashing ruby when the shrap thin lines all over her body pulsate crimson. Her hair is long and dripping with an inky hue, tangled and disheveled. Fingertips dipped in a steaming tar, dancing near her side as she stalks towards you.

It’s when you can almost reach out and touch the figure that you finally scramble backwards, putting distance between the two of you as the flight side of your instincts kick in. You barely make it more than five steps when you’re being dragged upwards with some sort of red translucent mist. It wraps around your wrists, dragging your arms above your head as you flop about uselessly. Screams are getting caught in your throat as you have to just hang there, watching this being get closer to you.

When the lady is directly below you, the hair on the back of your neck stands up straight and your muscles twitch from how tense they are. You want to panic, to yell, but something stops you. Tilting her head, she has to look up at you from where her magic holds you against the rough bark. Her hand comes out to touch you, but the soft feeling comes as a surprise to you. She cups your cheek, a low red spreading in her eyes as you shake under her touch.

She smiles at you, a soft almost nurturing thing. “You’re just as pretty as I thought you would be, little lamb.” Her voice is chilling, breathy with a raspy tone to it. The older woman’s free hand caresses your stomach, an unwanted warmth sinking into your gut.

Her nails are jagged, cracked and repulsive, as she takes her time to explore your body. It’s sudden, the vigor in which she gropes your body. Clumsy and completely all over the place, you aren’t entirely sure what she thinks she’s doing. Struggling against your restraints, the chill covers your body like ice freezing over a lake.

It isn’t until your body takes over, fear and anger sinking into your bones, that the creature seemingly gains control of her actions and her hand becomes confident and firm. Nails pointedly scratching at your skin as fingers map out your skin, almost stabbing at each goosebump she finds. Your eyes are glued to your face as your mind struggles to catch up to what you had done, flinching as her other hand reaches up. It doesn’t strike you as you thought it would, instead she brushes the back of her knuckles against her own face, trepidation stopping your blood from rushing through your body as you finally realize that you spit at her.

That wasn’t what you wanted to do, you knew that you needed to act smart if you were going to survive this but for some reason all your ability to think logically went out the window. You wanted her more than anything in the world right now, and you knew that you needed to try and do anything to keep her exactly where she was.

“Do you not have control over your stupid little body, mortal?” Her voice is low, almost filled with gravel as she mumbles. Rust filled eyes not even paying you a second of attention but instead staring at the glistening saliva that drips from her fingers.

Your head is shaking vigorously, denying inability in hopes that she doesn’t see you as foolish. The desire to be praised by her came as a surprise, but you weren’t fighting it and it seems to have worked. A smile slowly stretches across the surreal creature’s face as she blinks slowly. “It’s so funny to see such a useless being believe they are worth anything more than what I deem them to be. You think by answering my question in whatever way you think I want will make the outcome of your situation better?”

She speaks softly, almost nurturing as she rubs her soaked fingers along your neck, smearing your own spit against you. You crane your neck as much as you can against the crimson smog wrapped there, trying to hear her voice as clearly as possible.

“I take what I want and no smart mouthed, stupid brained little human is going to stop that. I like to have fun, and the peak is watching you bleed out for me.” The words are harsh but you can’t help but moan as your body is thrown upwards, red tendrils tightening and dragging you to hang limply from the tree branch. It’s devoid of leaves, and creaks under your weight, but it somehow makes you feel like you have a safety net. You had climbed this tree many times in the past, and even had various hanging sets from this very limb.

Swinging freely, you try to move your body as much as possible as the urge to escape your confines sinks in. Entirely too focused, you don’t realize that her hands are moving along your ice cold skin. Groping softly, her movements are controlled and precise to make sure that you barely register it in your brain. It’s when her hands force your legs apart, maroon vapor ropes slithering around your thighs to hold them open, that you finally realize just how hard you are breathing. Your body felt slightly warm, at least in your core, and you could feel your blood rushing downwards. It was almost like your entire being was electrified and you were entirely too conscious of every single thing you felt.

She doesn’t take her time, her eyes narrow as she focuses on mapping out your skin. The bright ruby lines she leaves in her wake only entertain her for so long before she finally moves in between your shaking thighs. The older woman’s finger swipes through your folds, collecting the small amount of wetness she finds there. Gasping as she spreads it across your clit, a throbbing ache despite the way your body revolts. Her jaw mockingly drops when for the first time her eyes light up with amusement, giggling when your hips chase her hand. “Oh poor baby, I can’t fuck you if you’re not wet enough. It’ll hurt your small fragile little body too much and Mommy doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Your head is shaking violently, nonsensical protests tumbling from your lips. It didn’t matter to you, regardless if it was because you wanted her or wanted the situation to be over with, you just needed her to touch you. Even though your wetness wasn’t enough for her, you did feel aroused. Maybe it was your mind tricking you into believing this was what you wanted or maybe it was the glittering crimson behind your irises, but that wasn’t a piece of information that you needed to know.

She tuts, chastising you. “Now don’t lie to me. I know what you want even if your mind fights it, and your body hasn’t caught up, I know.” You watch as she takes a step back, letting her eyes drink in your form. Letting the back of her knuckles run down your torso, you watch as she slowly kneels on the damp dirt. Her hands are grazing over your thighs, pushing them farther open as she leans in. The grip she has on you, though gentle, is strong and you can’t kick her when you feel her mouth along your skin.

The smoothness of her strangely sharp teeth is hot against your cooled body, but it’s the sharp pierce and spilling of your blood that leaves a weirdly chilled warmth leaking down your leg. Eyes widening you try to look past the head of dark locks to see what just happened, but it didn’t take long for your brain to catch up and the stabbing pain on your inner thigh.

She looks up at you, sparkling light jade eyes catching the moon light, with a toothy smile and a small dribble of crimson running down her chin. “You’re a fucking vampire?” You couldn’t help the shocked yelp, body shaking with fear.

The being doesn’t even answer you, giggling as rolls her eyes up at you. She seems so innocent in those moments but nothing gets rid of the terror emanating within your soul. Looking back at your bleeding thigh, she swipes her fingers through the thick liquid to coat them. Her nails catch on the open wound, sending another wave of searing pain through your body but she pays no attention to you.

It almost feels like time stops as you hang there, waiting, but the moment the brunette swipes her crimson dipped thumb across your clit something in your body cracks. It’s small but you can feel the change and in your mind you start screaming at yourself. You know being vocal won’t stop this crazy woman, but you wanted to deter her by being completely unaffected. It was the last thing you had on her, to make her believe that what she was doing was just pure torture and you found absolutely no pleasure in it, but you knew that that power over her was no longer available to you.

Never one for vanilla sex, not even in theory, you shouldn’t be that surprised that being taken by force from a demonic crazy being would be right up your alley. No one could ever keep up with you, your fantasies were just a bit too intense or a bit too dangerous, and for once everything you ever wanted was being fulfilled. This gorgeous being was forcing her fingers farther into you, your blood dripping randomly down different parts of your body.

Despite your want for intensely kinky sex, you knew that it should be completely consensual right? It should let you know that, and you could feel your anger rising in your body as the heat zoomed between your thighs. This couldn’t be consensual, not with how it started, but if it wasn’t then why did the idea of her actually stopping tear you up on the inside? You couldn’t fathom the idea of her ice cold thumb pulling away from your throbbing clit for too long, for her touch on your body to not cause goosebumps.

She doesn’t wait much longer, no need to attempt to please you now that she has the wetness she wants, shoving two fingers into you with almost no remorse. A shrill scream gets stuck in your throat as you choke on the force of air rushing up, the pain bringing tears to your eyes. A sign of weakness that this twisted soul revels in as she thrusts her fingers in, letting her free hand drag up crimson periodically.

The pain was immense and you were certain that she had to be using something besides her fingers, there was no way that the small hands in between your thighs were causing this much agony. You wanted to shove against her, but the moment her teeth sink into your breast you know you’re gone. Hips jumping, trying to get her to move more as the pleasure starts to settle in your tummy, uselessly against her body. It felt so bad that the good started to come from a delirious state, and you just needed her to move. The tips of her fingers just rubbing slightly against the soft spot inside of you, the texture of her wrinkled skin felt wrong but you were starting to become obsessed.

“Isn’t it comical? A desperate slut like you thought you had everything together, thought I was going to ruin your life by taking what was destined to be mine?” Through the heavy fog that had begun to settle in your head you tried your best to look down at her, shock painted across your face. How did she know what you were thinking? She doesn’t give you any answer, instead her thrusting gets more aggressive as the wetness between your thighs grows, and it mixes with the blood still heavily leaking from the bite marks.

You want to moan, whimper, maybe even plead but you were no longer sure what you wanted. Logically you needed this to stop if you were to ever be okay again, but at the same time all you wanted to do was feel her mouth on your clit. You wanted her to fuck you until you were incoherent, a drooling mess. Hatred towards yourself and her fueled your motions as you tried to work to take more of her hand, stretching around her third finger as she shoves it ungracefully into you.

Her mouth is at your knee now, glowing eyes looking up at you as she smirks. “Taking me so well for someone so against getting used.” Her arm is moving roughly, fingers curling inside you as she ghosts her teeth along your thigh. “So clean, so dry. Why don’t you make a mess for Mommy? I like my cunts all wet and messy.”

It was then you found your power, despite the arousal burning in your belly and the way you clenched around her fingers whenever she swiped her thumb along your clit. You knew that the more you let your thoughts wonder, even if it had to be forced, that you would be able to pull yourself from the situation. Imagine yourself somewhere else and almost black out during everything, your body would be limp and pliant but not give her what she wants. The movie you would go see in a week with your best friends, or the long list of groceries that you knew you needed to get when you went back into the city. Thoughts swarmed your head as you tried your hardest to ignore the way her fingers poked and prodded, the way her thumb caressed your swollen clit just perfectly.

Screwing your eyes shut, you make your best attempt at seeming unaffected but you don’t realize that you aren’t winning. If anything you just make it more fun for the being below you, giving her the opportunity to make you as wet as she wants.

Being so focused on the thoughts traveling through your brain was good until you don’t feel the tugging on your wrists, persistent and firm. It’s only when you’re tumbling helplessly through the air that you realize you are no longer hanging from the tree, but instead falling face first into the freezing lake. It’s a shock, breaking the surface of the water. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and forces your throat to close, you can practically feel all your muscles seize as well. You make the mistake of opening your mouth to scream, causing a rush of dirty water to fill your lungs, and it’s only when her hand claws at the back of your head that you feel even an ounce of relief.

She’s tearing your body out of the water, pieces of the thin ice fly around you and you can’t believe that you relax as your body collides with her. “Don’t think that you can try to outplay Mommy like that you little slut. I know what you want, you are my destiny. You were made to take me, so be a good girl and let me do what I was made to do.” Her voice is sweet, almost soft, as she speaks through her teeth directly into your ear. It shouldn’t calm your racing heart, neither should the almost warm comforting touch of her red mist along your thighs.

You want to let yourself fall, the intense arousal is boiling in your tummy and you can feel the coil tightening with each brush of her hand along your body. It would be much easier to allow yourself to become immersed in the pleasure coursing through your body, but it wasn’t until she allowed that crimson fog to slip inside you. Despite the fact that whatever she was pushing into you was magical, you were still too tight for her liking. There was a part of you deep down that still didn’t want this and it was causing your body to react subconsciously.

‘If the slut doesn’t want to get wet, then I’ll keep you wet myself.” Her hands scratch up your side, a nail digging into your nipple on the way up and it makes your hip buck. You feel yourself melting back into her and a moan softly slips from your parted lips. The urge to pretend that it’s from the cold is strong, but you can’t even pretend at this point like the feeling of her hands on you isn’t turning you on.

Her hands are running along your torso, teasing your nipples and scratching up your stomach. It almost feels normal, just another hookup and it makes you forget. Losing yourself in the way that the ruby swells inside you, rubbing against the soft spot it finds and caressing your clit softly.

The wetness between your thighs is gathering the longer she plays with you, wine stained mist thrusting lazily into you. It almost plays with you, knowing that it ruts to hard or fast that it will bring you closer to the edge, but it keeps you writhing for more with each movement. You want to beg for more, ask her to touch you with her own hands as you have begun to crave her ice touch, though there is something that is stopping you from doing that. It isn’t necessarily pride, something you lost the moment you began to get turned on by this aggressive form of twisted affection.

It’s when her nails scratch at the back of your neck that you realize the fog that’s dragging you slowly, almost mockingly leisurely, towards the edge is growing. Almost like a ball, it feels like she’s pushing her magic abilities to stretch you to the point right before danger. You’re confused, as your wetness starts dripping down your thighs and your breath starts picking up, how much more wet could you get?

Instant regret floods your system almost as fast as the ice cold water that rushes down your throat as she shoves your face directly into the lake. It’s not a quick dunk to shock you this time, her claw-like hand squishing your face into the almost mud like dirt at the bottom. She doesn’t stop forcing more and more into you, her magical fog swelling larger and it presses against where your torso is now pressed against the ground. Even as you struggle against her, your internal will to try and live kicking in, you can’t help the build up in your stomach. The coil tightens as her magic moves within you, moving inside you as her nails dig into her back.

Sharp stinging pains are a contrast, an added sensation, to your panic as you begin to think maybe she is just going to keep you submerged. There’s no way she would, right? She wants to use you, there would be no reason that she would want to truly harm you.

A deep belly chuckle is muffled through the water, barely a vibration as your arm and head flail as much as possible. You wanted out but you can’t help but moan instead of scream, the pleasure of her nails into your shoulder blades and her thigh grinding between your thighs into the swell of mist there beginning to get too overwhelming. It was no longer a fight to survive but a fight to enjoy the last moments of life. Somewhere in your mind you knew that you wouldn’t actually make it out of this alive, but for some reason you’ve decided to ignore that.

“Such a stupid whore, letting just anyone touch your cunt.” She fists your soaked hair in your hand, and just for a fleeting moment the pain mixed with arousal takes over your fogged mind. “You don’t even know Mommy and yet here you are, taking my gorgeous gift like the good little fuck toy you are.” Her free hand abandons your back in lue of groping your ass, pushing down against it to get you to stop moving. Her thigh is pushing against your throbbing clit now, soaked in your wetness despite water lapping up as you splash about.

You can feel your vision start to darken, the edges of the burning sensation as you try to keep your eyes open have blurred and blackened. Unsure if you are even panicking anymore, your body starts to relax and the only thing you can focus on is the fuzzy warm arousal filling each nerve in your body. The water floating around you becomes tranquil as each muscle in your body softens and you move with each thrust into you.

A wide sinister smile stretches unnaturally along the being’s face, pulling her almost gray lips as far as they can as she stares down at your almost lifeless body. She can see the signs and for her it motivates her even more, forcing more and more of her magic into you. You were everything she could have ever wanted and she refused to let you stay in the living world, if she was destined to be stuck to this lake forever then so would you.

Slowly you could feel all the tension in your body start to clump together in your stomach, draining from the rest of you and tightening around the scarlet orb inside you. You craved that last bit of pleasure, that last rush in your veins to end this for good.

When it becomes almost impossible to move and you are no longer shaking from panic or exertion, but instead trembling from hanging onto the edge, she knows it’s time. Sneering down at your limp form, she uses her grip in your hair to turn your head. Slapping at your cheek until she can just barely see your fuzzy bloodshot eyes, an almost soft nurturing smile paints along her face once she sees your drunk like state. “There’s my girl. So fucked out.” Her sphere cloud inside you starts to vibrate, her cold dark eyes once more glowing a dim ruby.

Gripping at your jaw, her claw practically breaks your neck as she forces you to keep eye contact with her. Even as your eyes slip closed, struggling to stay open as you start to dangle over the edge, you can’t help but feel drawn in to listen. “Say my name, little toy, say it and stay with me forever.” Her voice is raspy, bordering soft but she’s taunting you. “You know it, you know you do, so say it. Say it now.” Her actions become frantic, her thigh grinding more aggressively into you. She’s trying to force you into a more pathetic state, even at the edge of death she wants you to be begging for her.

As much as you can you try to deny knowing, because how could you? You had never seen this person, if that’s what she is even considered, before this horrific situation. The attempt at trying to keep water from going down your throat had stopped, your lungs should have filled completely with liquid by now so some other power must have been keeping you alive.

Though you couldn’t see it, the being was getting annoyed. Her eyes rolled as she realized that you were thinking again, a brain dead creature who could still think. “Say my name and you can cum for Mommy, like the pretty little whore you are.” She spits at you through her teeth, pointed and your blood drying on the dull shine. With her words she sees a change in your stature, even held under the force of her hand, eagerness. Humming slowly she allows her maroon mist to sink into each part of your body.

Your brain was almost empty, nothing but serene thoughts going through it as you felt yourself slip into the darkness. You thought that there would be a light at the end of the time but instead you start seeing a faint rosy hue. The being above you is yelling at you and the need to give in is strong, you want to end everything on a high. You need that high.

Her name slips into the water almost silently, your eyes slipping closed as you fall into unconsciousness, but it’s there. She hears it, muffled, “Wanda.” Usually one of her biggest fears, not one to want to go back to the damned dark world but with you she could thrive. A black magic demon who accomplished its goal? She would rule the world with a scarlet leash around your neck. A small smirk as her magic starts to die, a sure sign she’s going back to being contained. Until the end of time you will be her needy little toy, just as you were as you took your last breath.

#kitmoas | Necrosis #wanda maximoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff x reader #kinktober #kits kinktober #wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n

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blackleatherjacketz · 4 months

Text

Mine

Eric Northman x Female Reader

Summary: Eric shows you what it means to be his.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Alcohol, Bachelorette Parties, Glamoring, Kissing, Hair-Pulling, Biting, Blood Sucking, Vampirism, Blood Contracts, Possessive Behavior, Body Worship, Teasing, Taunting, Orgasm Deny/Delay, Vaginal Fingering, Finger Sucking, Vaginal Sex, Nipple Play, Nipple Biting, Size Kink, Size Difference, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, Mirror Sex

Word Count: 2.6k+

Tags: @differentcatcat @jessicafangirl @spice-honey

Read more Eric!

You aren’t entirely sure how you ended here with him like this, but you aren’t exactly complaining, either. What started out as a raucous bachelorette party at Fangtasia turned into a deeply provocative conversation about your innermost desires with its handsome owner. He’d singled you out in front of everyone, bringing you onstage before convincing you to let him drink from you in exchange for a night of pleasure you ‘would never forget’. You’d gone home with strangers before, sure, but you’d never even met a vampire before, let alone let one bite you. But he assured you that he’d make it worth your while. And with a face like that and a voice like his, well… who could say no?

You now lay on his bed opposite a wall full of mirrors, propped on your side as he traces his fingertips up your calf, leaving a trail of goosebumps up the bend just behind your knee up into your thigh. You watch him slip two fingers beneath the hem of your underwear before pulling it taught and snapping it against your skin, forcing you to gasp.

“Are you sure you still want this, sweetheart?” He taunts with a smirk. “Last chance to go back to your drunk friend and listen to how much she hates that fiancé of hers.”

“I’m sure.” You’ve never wanted anything more in your entire life. Your long dry spell leading up to tonight left you desperate for an excuse to get out of the house, to break your mundane pattern of solitude, leading you straight to him. The way he looked at you from across the room made you feel like you were the only woman in the world, the only one for him. He was unlike anyone else you’ve ever met before; elegant and mysterious, sensual and alluring. No one you’d ever met had paid this much attention to you before, had captivated you long enough to agree to a binding physical contract you would normally reject. You’ve never been more sure of anything than you are right now.

Your breath quickens as that sting spreads into the deeper layers of your skin, that needy heat building up inside as he calmly sits down on the bed beside you, pushing the fabric of your dress up around your waist to get a better view. You watch him take his time gently grazing his palms over your hips and thighs, worshiping your body by tracing invisible designs into your skin. Your quiet moans shift that grin of his into a satisfied smile, visible only from the mirrors in front of you before he presses a few soft kisses into your shoulders. He hums an old Norse tune into your ear as he continues to caress you, making every inch of your skin tingle in anticipation as he brushes the hair away from your neck.

“Good girl,” he purrs into the sensitive spot just behind your ear, forcing your body to tense as he curls his fingers beneath your underwear again, pulling it forcefully down your hips before ripping it off. “Then you agree to be mine.”

“Yes,” you barely breathe out, his bold words making your cheeks flush a warmer hue.

He laughs to himself before swiftly sliding his fingers between your cheeks, gliding them over your folds to spread the moisture that’s collected there up and down your seam. “Because I already had someone drive them home. It’s just you and me now.”

You nod in silence, letting his electric touch send sparks up into your core as he continues kissing your neck, glancing up every now and again to watch your reaction as he slowly pushes his chilly fingers inside your entrance.

“Eric!” You moan as they expand your slick, inner walls with practiced restraint, feeling nearly every inch of you before pulling out just far enough to push back in again, causing you to rock your hips along with his steady rhythm. You close your eyes as he delves his digits even deeper into you at just the right angle, finally finding that bundle of nerves tucked up inside you with a curl of his finger.

Sweet Jesus, he’s so good at that.

His frigid pace grows faster, your internal heat warming him up as he starts to nip desperately at the nape of your neck. The muscles in your abdomen can’t help but tighten as the sound of his fingers inside you echoes against the walls, nearly drowning out the sound of his shallow breathing and your needy moans.

“Yes?” He pulls his fingers out of you slowly, leaving a clear coat of your arousal over your ass and hips as he brings them up to your mouth before pressing them against your lips.

Instead of answering him, you take the hint and open your mouth to suck on his fingers, savoring your own tangy flavor as he pushes them past your tongue, practically gagging you in the process. You control your breathing and run your tongue in between them, being sure to look at him in the mirror as you siphon off every last bit of your juices, your spit now pooling at the corner of your mouth, dripping down onto the mattress.

“See how good you taste?” He praises with darkened eyes, a pleased smirk gracing his features just before he pushes you onto your back. “And that’s just your pussy.”

He kisses your mouth before you have a chance to react, tasting the remainder of your essence on your lips and tongue as he breathes you in, letting your scent mix in with the way you taste as he greedily explores your mouth. He has a flavor of copper and iron with a salty aftertaste as he settles on top of you, slowly shedding that cold hard exterior he presented you with onstage. He lets out a series of breathy moans in between each desperate kiss, licking and sucking your lips into his mouth as if they tasted of milk and honey. Groaning as your hands instinctively find their way up onto his chest, he allows them to move across the thin fabric of his tank top and down to his waist as he grinds his hips against your nearly naked body.

He twists the fabric of your dress in his hands and rips it right off, grinning like a schoolboy as he takes in the sight of your naked breasts devoid of any undergarment before hungrily pressing his mouth against them. He nips at your chest and clavicle, teasing the imminent threat of his painful bite at any time as your chest heaves with desire, perking your nipples right into his mouth. He sucks on each of them, lingering on one a little longer than the other, pulling it into his mouth and twisting that sensitive tissue in between his teeth. That mixture of pain and pleasure forces your back to arch and your eyes to roll back into your head, triggering that fire deep within you. It melts its way down to your core, sizzling through every nerve on its way down as he places his palm between your shoulder blades to keep you near.

“Ooh, so that’s the spot, huh?” He looks up at you with lust blown eyes, his pupils nearly taking up all the space within them as he licks a slow, tantalizing circle around it.

“Uh-huh,” you whine with a nod, looking down at him hopefully as you run your fingers through his hair.

He grins just in time to reveal his fangs, biting into the fatty tissue just above your nipple with a sharp twinge of pain, forcing you to inhale quickly. Your mouth falls open as you watch your own blood fill his mouth, staining his lips a dark crimson as he closes his eyes, allowing himself to get lost deep within you. He moans against your skin as he sucks on your nipple even harder, swallowing his first gulp as it floods his taste buds with the sweet fruity flavor of the wine you’ve been sipping on all night.

You tug on his hair as he bites down even harder, threatening to gnaw your nipple right off as the pain from his teeth blends with the pleasure of his tongue, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips in order to get some sort of friction between them. That delicious, tingling sensation starts to burn brighter, faster within you as it spreads like wildfire throughout the rest of your body. You can feel his erection growing beneath his jeans as he grinds his hips between your thighs. Each drink he takes from you engorges it with more of your blood, stoking that internal flame as it presses harder between them, begging to be released. You pull him in even closer as he nearly sends you over the edge, that wildfire on the brink of igniting into a raging inferno before he pulls his fangs out of you and halts the movement of his hips.

“Eric,” you’re breathlessly disappointed as he pulls his mouth off of you, a sly look crossing his ruby red lips.

“Eric, what?” He repeats mockingly, licking the excess blood off the middle of your chest, purposefully avoiding your nipple as it drips from his lips and chin.

“But I was about to…” You run your hand through his hair as he cleans you up, licking your skin like a cat with its milk.

“About to what?” He grabs onto your wrist and pulls it away from his hair, holding it next to his mouth as he looks up at you with a stern glare. “About to come? Just from that?”

You nod as that dreaded feeling of shame washes over you, forcing you to look away from him. You can’t quite explain it, but something about his touch alone is more arousing than actual sex with half the people you’ve been with before. Now you feel stupid for saying anything at all.

“You think I should let you?” He keeps his eyes on you with a chuckle, kissing the inside of your wrist before placing it back into his hair. “You sound awfully ungrateful.”

You sigh in defeat as he denies your pleasure, that cruel nature of his floating back up to the surface as he pulls away from you, leaning back and standing up at the edge of the bed.

“Look at yourself,” he instructs, nodding over to the mirror that you’d nearly forgotten was there. “How many of your other lovers have done this for you? Drank your blood, tasted every inch of you from the inside out?”

“None of them.” You turn your head and look at your own reflection, streaks of your blood still glistening in the dim lamplight of the room as they branch out from where he’s bitten you. The evidence is clear that you’re already on your way to becoming his. The spots where he attempted to clean you up had smeared and already dried, cracking against your skin as you hear him unbuckle his belt.

“That’s what I thought.” He tosses his shirt off and steps out of his shoes before pulling his pants down, revealing the prize beneath as you finally look back at him, trying not to gasp.

Sweet Jesus, he’s gorgeous.

His size is even more massive than you originally guessed as you admire him for what seems like ages. Your mouth falls agape as he spreads that drop of precum up and down his shaft for your visual pleasure, the muscles in his abdomen rippling in anticipation as he makes himself even harder just by looking at you.

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he reassures you as he gratuitously strokes himself with a confident grin. “I want to make sure you feel good.” He whispers, pressing his knees into the mattress.

“Yeah?” You ask, exasperated as you sit up onto your elbows to watch him get closer. You try to convince yourself that this is real and not just some sort of wild dream as you spread your legs for him until he’s bobbing in between your thighs, but your brain’s having trouble making that distinction.

“You’ll taste better that way.” He brushes your clit with the tip of his cock, rushing your body with bursts of bliss each time he passes over it until he’s good and sure you’re wet enough to take him in.

You hold your breath as he pushes inside, watching intently as he slowly stretches your viscera in an achingly hypnotic thrust upward. That internal heat stirs up again as you envelop him completely, the feeling of his pelvis more than welcome against the bottom of your thighs as he holds himself there for a second. Instead of pulling out and speeding back up again, he just stares longingly into your eyes, giving you time to adjust to his enormous girth as his stifled breath warms your face. His mouth falls open into a kiss as he pushes in even deeper, the tip of his head tapping against your cervix as you begin to shudder around him.

“Oh my god, Eric,” you moan into his mouth, feeling his thumb rub tiny little circles into your clit as he runs his other hand through your hair. You can’t believe how amazing he feels, how every neural pathway in your body is set ablaze, singed by the very fire of his touch that no other man alive was even able to spark.

“I told you it’d fit,” he whispers, tugging on your hair before pulling his hips back and violently thrusting them back inside you. He kisses your lips more aggressively this time, his tongue tasting every gasp he’s able to draw out of you with each thrust of his pelvis, his own breath faltering as he cries out your name.

You can feel his grip on your hair tighten as he drives himself inside you again and again, stretching your smooth muscle to capacity as he glides in and out of you repeatedly, tingling the breadth of your insides. Kisses quickly turn into bites as the rhythm of his hips becomes more frantic, his fangs emerging just as his thumb pushes you over the edge of ecstasy, sending you into the unknown depths of your euphoria. Your body doesn’t know how to handle it, doesn’t know how to react to such an intense sensation as he mercilessly crashes into you, his desperate pace forcing you to descend deeper into that dark, delicious state until your entire body convulses, completely overwhelmed by it. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him buried inside as your muscles spasm around him, a loud chorus of your moans echoing off the mirrored walls as your pleasure wreaks havoc on your body.

You barely notice when he sinks his fangs into you again, this time groaning into your throat like a wild animal as your body milks him for all he’s worth, gulping down that intoxicating serum as it oozes from your throat past his lips. His hips speed up to an inhuman rate, those groans of his shifting into feral growls as he releases his thumb from your bud just to hold your hips in place as he loses himself in the feeling of your body, in the flavor of your blood.

Red hot crimson blood drips down your neck as his white hot fluid shoots up inside you, both of them eventually spilling out despite his best efforts to consume and contain as much as he can between the both of you. He mewls against your neck as he sputters a few more times between your inner walls, still pulling tightly on your scalp as you both ride out the aftershock of your orgasm.

“You’re mine now.” He whispers into your ear, smearing your blood into your hair as he shakily kisses your neck and jawline. “No one else can have you, drink from you, or harm you in any way.” He pulls back to look at you adoringly, your blood smattered across his chin like war paint before he bites down on his own wrist to carefully seal your wound. “If they do, they’ll have to answer to me.”

#eric northman #alexander skarsgard #eric northman smut #eric northman x reader #eric northman x female reader #eric northman fan fiction #true blood #vampires #vampire

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outsideratheart · 10 months

Text

Can I Ask You a Question? (Alexia Putellas x reader)

A/N: Chapter 3 in the Legacy Series

The sun shon down on the beach in Ibiza. The heat along with the smell of the sea was enough to make you forget about the past and the future. For the past 4 days you had been in the present and it made you feel more at ease than you had done in months. A couple of nights ago you had bumped into some of the Barcelona girls and in Jill’s slightly drunken state she had invited them over to your house for food and drinks. This is something you didn’t fight, in fact you encouraged it stating that you will set up the entire night. All the Spaniards had to do was show up.

Alexia had reached out after the World Cup final and the two of you had been talking ever since and much to your surprise football didn’t get brought up once. It did however bring up feelings that you feared would come but you couldn’t blame yourself the woman was beautiful and getting to know her on a personal level only added to your crush.

“Y/N!” You heard Daan shout from up at the house.

The villa you were staying in was beautiful and owned by a family friend. It had everything you needed: several bedrooms, a huge pool and a private beach. You really had no reason to leave but there’s no way you can come to Ibiza and not venture out to experience the electric night life.

“Coming!” You unbury your feet from the sand before making your way to the house so you can get ready.

Choosing an outfit proved to be a difficult choice. Alexia, in her nervous state, had messaged you earlier in the day asking what she should wear. A couple of hours later she sent you a photo of a dress. It was simple yet you know it would take your breath away once you saw her in it.

As you looked through your wardrobe, which was full, you felt like you had nothing to wear.

You stormed into Jill’s room in frustration. The blonde only laughed at your child like behaviour before reaching into a shopping bag. She help up an olive green silk dress with a low cut front which was borderline on being too low.

“I saw this when we went into town earlier. I thought it would suit you and it will be sure to drive any woman wild, especially Catalonians who you may or may not have a crush on”

“Can you blame me? Alexia is hot, like really hot”

Jill may not have mentioned her name but she saw the way you watched the Spanish woman dance when you bumped in them the other night. She would say you had heart eyes but they were full of lust.

“I thought you weren’t the type to have flings”

“I’m still not”

“Not even a little holiday romance”

“That’s not who I am and you both know that it’s not like I can sleep with her here and not face the consequences when the season starts”

“Wait! What!”

You had been so careful to keep you mouth shut and having told Jill out of all people might come back around to bite you in the arse.

“I mean it could do, if I decide to go there”

Silence filled the room for all of five seconds before Jill changed to the subject and showed you what she planned on wearing for the night. You could only hoped she believed your cover and if not you prayed to the higher powers that she keeps her mouth shut but you knew it was a gamble because Jill had no filter when she drank.

Alexia took one last look in the mirror as she gave herself the once over for the fifth time in last ten minutes. Whenever she came to Ibiza in the past her main aim was to relax and recover in anticipation for the upcoming season but tonight she was willing to let go and have fun. She wasn’t sure what the future held and knowing that this might be the last night she saw you for some time she was planning on making the most of it.

“Ale! do you want a dri—“ Leila comes barging in the room, stopping in her place as she sees her friend standing in the corner, a little uncertain of herself.

“Is it too much?” Alexia felt a little insecure, it wasn’t everyday that she dressed like this.

“Not at all” Leila walked towards her “You look beautiful Alexia. I’m not saying you are but if you are dressing to impress a certain someone then I think this will do the trick”

“You think?”

Leila didn’t tease her captain for admitting she wanted to impress you although she didn’t mentioned you by name. This was uncharted territory for her best friend.

“I know so. Speaking of the Dutch, well not really but still. Lieke has just text me saying that they will be ready in half an hour and for us to get there in about an hour so that the chef can prepare the food”

“Chef?”

“It seems Y/N is pulling out all of the stops. It’s almost like she wants to impress us” Leila raised her eyes playfully and Alexia knew exactly what she was insinuating.

“Leila please do not mention it tonight” it was a warning and Leila showed her understanding by pretending to zip her lips.

You were speaking to the chef when you heard the front door open. You couldn’t know for sure who it was but the butterflies that had suddenly formed in your stomach was a good indication. When you entered the outdoor area which had the makeshift bar, the sight in front of you filled you with happiness. The Dutch and the Spanish together, acting like they were old friends reacquainted.

“Bienvenidos” you join the now double in sized group of football players although only one player has acknowledged your presence.

“Gracias para la invitación” Alexia hands you a drink. She senses your hesitation due to not knowing what was in the glass “I saw Lieke make it”

You were in the clear. The drinks Lieke made are safe, you can have a few and still stand. You other team mates on the other hand well they preferred alcohol percentage over taste.

Not before long you were called over for dinner. The long table held just enough seats to fit everyone and unlike the other nights spent at it, you choose against sitting at the head of the table. Whether it was on purpose or not, one side held the Dutch and the other sat the Spanish with Alexia sitting directly opposite you.

At first you thought the language barrier might be an issue but you soon find that everyone has agreed to speak English, as broken as it may be. The first course is served and the whole table settles into a comfortable silence as they savour the meal prepared for them.

“What?” You whisper as you see Alexia looking at you whilst she takes a sip of her wine.

“Nada, I mean nothing” Alexia corrects herself but the smirk that tugs at her lips lets you know her mind is far from being empty.

That’s how the next half an hour or so went. You and Alexia stole glances when you thought the other wasn’t watching only to get caught in the end. It filled your head with thoughts that you had tried to bury deep over the past couple of days or if you’re being honest ever since you met her at the seaside restaurant in Barcelona. Now whilst her execution was poor that night, she did show just how much she want you to play for Barcelona and her clear passion for the team reminded you of that same passion your father had.

You were in the middle of a stare off, the only words spoken with your eyes. Oh her eyes, the hazel orbs which looked perfect as the sun hit them at the right angle.

“Señorita Cruyff” a member of the chef’s team politely taps you on your shoulder.

You couldn’t know for sure how long she had been standing there or if she had been trying to get your attention but the look of the other women at the table told that this wasn’t the time time she had called your name.

“¿Quieres más vino con el plato principal?”

All eyes are on you with your Dutch team mates not knowing what the woman was saying and the Spanish waiting to jump in.

“Sí. Por favor traiga lo que recomienda”

And with that the woman leaves you be but when you turn your attention back to the table you are met with eyes that hold something you don’t recognise. They had never heard you speaking Spanish before and even though you had a Dutch accent when you spoke Dutch and English, the Spanish one you had when speaking Spanish was almost native.

“I forgot she’s Spanish” Patri explains your fluent Spanish to her friends.

Whilst Patri was correct you always saw yourself as Dutch because that is where your family is from. The only time your place of birth got brought up was when you were chosen to play at a senior national level. You had only ever played for The Netherlands youth team but when the time came to chose a senior team Spain came calling but it never got passed a phone call. Your father played for the Netherlands and so would you, there was nothing more to discuss.

“She’s Dutch” Jill corrects her “it’s bad enough you get to play with her all season, you don’t get to have her for international break too” she says the last part under her breath but you still can’t believe she said it out loud at all.

“Jill!” You scold her hoping that only you and her had heard what she said.

“Sorry”

Just like the rest of the night you turn you attention back to the person sitting opposite you only to find her watching but hopefully not listening to the discussion taking place between you and your best friend.

In a split second you decide the best approach is to imagine that she was none the wiser.

“You seem to be having a good time in Ibiza” with anyone else this could be classed as small talk yet with Alexia it didn’t feel this way.

“I always do. My favourite day so far have been the boat trip we went on yesterday”

“Those are my favourite days too”

“Yeah Y/N loved the photos you posted it. She was a big fan of your bikini” Daan added from her place down the table.

A deep blush flushed your cheeks as you get all but outed by the brunette. Your trail of thought shifts as you remember the photos in question, there were five in total but it was the third one that caught your eye the post. Alexia posed against the railings of the boat wearing nothing but a bikini. The way she posed showed off her toned body enough to fill your mind with less than innocent thoughts.

“You did?” Alexia, for the first time since meeting you, felt like she had the upper hand.

“The bikini—it erm—verdomme“ you finished what was left in your wine glass “You looked hot, beautiful in fact”

You could tell the entire table was enjoying seeing you flustered but you wasn’t a fan. Not when the woman who played a huge part, yet did very little, was sitting in front of you. Wanting to remove yourself from the centre of attention you stand to leave but Alexia reaches over the table and grabs your hand.

“You can’t leave now. The main course is coming” Alexia used her other hand to point behind you where low and behold there was in fact servers bringing out the next course of food.

Vulnerable. That is how you felt as you ate your food. Alexia was now aware how you saw her, you only found a little bit of peace knowing that she didn’t know just how beautiful you found her.

Once all courses had been served and dated you politely excused yourself making sure to take your glass of wine with you. You wasn’t exactly sure where you were going but you knew that the glass of red would be needed.

Alexia watched as you walked away. At first she thought you would go back into the house for whatever reason but instead she sees you walk towards the edge of the grounds the house sat on, unaware of what it lead to.

She tried to include herself in her friends, and yours, conversation but it was to no use. Her focus remained on you even though you were no longer in site. There was a lot she wanted to say to you, even more so with what she had learnt in the last hour or two. When the barcelona captain sees one of the bartenders bringing out the last couple of bottles of wine she is quick to swipe one and go in search of you.

There was something about water that made you happy. Maybe it had something to do with memories of walking along the canals of Amsterdam with the your father when you would take the family dog for a walk or how the entire Cruyff family could spend the whole day at the beach in Barcelona yet still want to go back and do it all over again the next day. As you got older you came to the conclusion that it’s because the ocean makes you feel small and it puts your life into perspective. You would spend hours looking out at the never ending water whilst letting you mind run wild.

“Care for a top up?” The voice makes you jump but your heart beat soon returns to its natural pace when you see the who had spoken.

“Please” you hold your empty glass up.

Alexia uses the action as a way to sit next to you without it being a big deal. The two of you slip into a silence with the only audible sound coming from your friends back at the house.

“So I’m beautiful huh?”

You let out a groan at Alexia’s teasing because that’s what is was and you both knew it.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

“We could talk about what Jill said?”

“I take it back. I’d rather talk about your beauty”

Funnily enough Alexia didn’t have much to say at your compliment. When you said she was beautiful at the table she thought it was just something you said to please the table but now it was just the two of you, surely you meant it.

“Can I ask you a question?”

You hesitantly nod.

“Have you talked to anyone about it?” She needed need to be specific, you knew what she meant by it.

It was a good question. Apart from Aitana, you hadn’t really talked to anyone about your move. You knew that you could trust Lieke but she played for Barcelona and as your best friend you thought she would be biased but at the same time no one knew more about your struggles. You didn’t want to talk about moving to Barcelona with your family but the reasons why you didn’t want to would only bring up emotions that you had all tried desperately to bury as unhealthy as that may be.

“I’ll take that as a no”

You took a large sip of your wine before you try to explain the thoughts that have been keeping you up at night.

“It’s hard”

“When you came to the match it —“

“Was the first time back since it happened, yes” by cutting her off you stopped her from saying the words.

You could already feel your breathing building at a rapid pace and like any other time this happened you hands began shaking in suit although you had learned to control that or hide it, at least that’s what you thought. When you feel Alexia take your hand in hers you realise that it must have been obvious.

“The club meant a lot to him and I don’t think I could handle—“

“The pressure” now it was Alexia who attempted to finish your sentence only she got it all wrong.

“His presence”

“I lost my dad a few years ago” Alexia knew that she was asking you to open up to her, someone who was closer to a stranger than she was a friend. Hopefully if she shared a little bit of her pain that you would feel comfortable to do the same “I know I don’t wear his name on the back of my shirt but it is his family name that gets said when I win an award. I understand what it’s like to live your life hoping to do someone proud when they can never tell you themselves”

“He always wanted me to play for Barcelona. He said that is where I will play the football that I am destined to play”

“I think he’s right” Ever since the meeting where she learned you would be leaving Ajax she couldn’t help but think about what the two of you could achieve together. The team was a perfect fit for you but she couldn’t make you move there. Right now she would settle for being your sounding board.

“Of course you do. If he is right and I do what he wanted then I come to Barcelona. That has been you aim from day one” the look you give Alexia lets her know you are playing and trying to get a rise of our her yet she cannot help but bite.

“I was out of line but I can’t sit here and say that I don’t want to come play for us because that would be a lie. This is your decision and you have to do what is best for you. I know that whenever I go back to Mollet my heart is heavier and I can’t imagine facing that everyday but I know what it’s like. The thing about Barcelona is we aren’t only a team, we are a family. You will never be alone on your bad days, I know this because I never am”

“Alexia” you could feel your nose begin to tingle as your emotions rose to the surface. In this moment she wasn’t appealing to the player, she was talking to Y/N the girl whose heart broke in 2016 and had been in pieces ever since.

“I have an idea” Alexia eyes light up “I leave Ibiza the day after tomorrow and I have a couple of days before we need to prepare for the WICC cup in Portland, I’m guessing you have a few days left off too. Come to Barcelona, don’t tell anyone but come. I’ll show you around and give you a taste of what life could be like off the pitch because that is when you will really see the city”

The Catalonian waited in anticipation, worrying that she may have crossed a line but she couldn’t help herself. The thought of you moving to Barcelona felt more like a reality and to say she was excited would be an understatement.

“Can I take a rain check?”

You physically saw her face drop in disappointment.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I got ahead of myself, I shouldn’t have said anything. I think it’s best I leave” Alexia hastily stood up. She was embarrassed and didn’t want to stick around to face a rejection.

“Alexia” you stood up just as quick as she did and grabbed her hand, stopping her from walking any further “I have to go home to Amsterdam tomorrow. I have some meetings that I cannot reschedule but I would love to see Barcelona though your eyes whether I move or not”

Not only had you given Alexia something to look forward to. You had told her that you wanted to see her again regardless of your decision and that was enough to make the risk of opening up to you worth it.

The two of you finish the bottle of wine whilst admiring the view before rejoining your friends who in your absence had managed to drink the left over wine and move onto the cocktails and shots. Yet another moment where you shown a scenario that could become a regular occurrence.

You left Ibiza the following morning lighter than you had felt in months because the impending question of Barcelona or Arsenal was no longer looming over you.

A decision had been made.

#legacy series #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni imagine #barcelona femeni one shot #espwnt x reader #espwnt one shot #espwnt imagine

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creedslove · 1 year

Text

BETRAYED - FINAL CHAPTER

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: smut (masturbation f!, implied unprotected p in v, light spanking, a little bit of biting kink if you squint, dirty talk in english and spanish) and fluff, like A LOT OF FLUFF

A/N: It's the end 😭 the end of my beloved and beautiful series. A series that wasn't supposed to be a series, it started as a one shot and it became a series thanks to you all who asked for more, gave me feedbacks suggestions, sent me asks and showed me support! I know I couldn't please everyone as some of you wanted a sad ending and also some people weren't not pleased with some plots (chapter seven, anyone? hehehe) still, I loved every part of it and I am sad it's over but I am also pretty excited to see it is the very first time I actually end a story I began. I hope you enjoy this last chapter and the series as much as I did ❣️

2.7k words

The ride home was extremely difficult as you and Pedro had a hard time keeping your hands off each other. After dancing together at the wedding and teasing each other shamelessly in public, you two couldn't contain yourselves. If he could, he would have you right there and then, but at the same time, he wanted to have a special first time with you. You were the woman he loved, and not some lay for the night, but god knew how much willpower it took him.

You couldn't stop kissing him, as you two exited the ballroom, you pushed him against the wall, getting his suit jacket off in the middle of the hallway "fuck you Pedro" you whispered "you don't have the right of being this hot" you chuckled against his ear.

All you got was a smirk and a smack on the ass, drawing a loud moan from your mouth. He pulled you even closer "come on muñequita, let's get you out of here"

•••

You pressed your thighs together as you watched Pedro drive. He was focused on the road, his knuckles turning white at how tight he gripped the steering wheel, so impatient to get home, but it seemed it was taking too long.

You watched his side profile, your heart beating faster at how handsome he was. You took in every feature of his, he was gorgeous and he was about to be yours, just as you were about to be his. You felt the anticipation in your entire body, your lust for him, growing at every passing moment. You observed his profile and remembered when was the last time he gave you a ride. How scared you were, when you thought you were pregnant and he was by your side. Even if you both weren't on your best senses and things were shaken between the two of you. You remembered how sweet he was that night, how soft his touches were on your skin and how he did everything in his power to give you comfort.

Your heart tightened and you leaned towards him, kissing his neck gently and startled him.

"Shit princesa, careful, I gotta drive" he said in his husky voice, though your neck kisses sent shivers down his spine. He chuckled and held your head in place with one hand "you're a naughty little girl, aren't you, mariposa? You're dying to be my sweet little puta" his hand slid down your hair caressing it before making its way down your back. He saw how you lifted your hips softly and squeezed your cheeks, not getting enough of your delicious sexy ass.

"Please Pedro, we gotta stop somewhere, I need you now" you purred at him, biting your lips and earned a scoff "I told you to be patient, cariño, you are not gonna be fucked in the car like any slut, you deserve my home, my bed" my heart, he thought to himself and smiled, briefly turning his attention to you, pecking your cheek gently "besides, you aren't any slut, you are my puta" he winked and looked at the road again.

You could barely hold yourself as you really wanted the man, it had been far too long and you just wanted his touch and nothing else. He couldn't concentrate with you squirming in the passenger seat so Pedro took one hand to your thigh, caressing it softly, feeling how soft you were under his fingertips, going further and finding your lace panties under it. He couldn't see them, but he could feel them and boy, they were wet.

He glanced at you "shit Y/N, you're a fucking tease, know that?" He said and instructed you to open your legs wider and giving him more space to feel you up.

He pulled your panties to the side and touched your slit. Your warmth was welcoming to his touch, he could feel your wetness pooled and spread it up and down. Pedro wanted to explore your body, but he couldn't at that moment, so he reserved that moment to touch your clit, making you whimper. He rubbed it in circular moments, seeing how you bucked your hips towards his hand, rubbing yourself on it as much as you could.

It took a lot of control so he wouldn't stop the car right there to fuck you senseless but now you were almost home.

He took his hand away and saw how coated his fingers were in your honey.

He took them to his mouth and sucked on it "mmm eres tan dulce mi muñequita" he praised and not resisting it took his finger to your pussy one more time, repeating his motion and getting them coated once more. He smirked at you, rubbing his finger on his bottom lip and smearing your juices over it "come on princesa, taste yourself" he told you in a husky voice.

As you kissed his lips, you felt your own taste. It was so obscene and dirty and you loved every single minute of it.

You knew there were only some blocks left until you got to his house, but it didn't stop you from rubbing his hard cock over his clothes to get your man some relief.

•••

The ride home left the two of you hot and bothered but as soon as you two stepped foot into his home, Pedro pulled you for a sloppy kiss. He wanted all of you, every single piece of you. The first thing he did was to get rid of his suit jacket, he just couldn't stand that amount of clothes on his body and certainly couldn't stand to see you so covered up like that. It was going to be your first time together, as a couple, as two people who loved each other and weren't afraid to show that. No tricks, no games, just the two of you.

He broke the kiss and rubbed your sides up and down, taking his lips to your neck as his smart hands found the zipper of your dress, opening it with no difficulty and seeing it fall onto your feet.

You stood in nothing but your lingerie and your heels in front of him, his gaze burning your skin at how he stared at you, at first you could see the admiration as to him, nothing was more beautiful, but you could swear his eyes darkened in desire and suddenly you felt like a prey waiting for the predator's next move.

Pedro took a step closer and lifted you up, making you squeal in surprise. He looked down at you and placed a sweet kiss to your forehead, in contrast to all the desire he had within.

"You deserve the best, cariño" he winked and took you to his bed, bridal style.

As soon as your back hit the mattress, he stood up at his full height, admiring your body "undress for me, papi" you pouted at him

"Never took you for someone who would call me daddy, Y/N" he said as he slowly undid his tie and stared down at your body groaning under his breath as you boldly reached for his crotch and caressed his painful boner.

"Fine, princesa, I'll undress you if you are a good girl for me, think you can do that?" You nodded "so first things first, these shoes stay" he pointed at your feet "and now be my sweet little puta, got it?"

He sat on the edge of the bed, kissing you deeply, his tongue against yours, your hot breath mixing in your desperate moans before he placed his tie on your mouth, wrapping it around your head and tying it, gagging you.

Pedro pulled your bra down, exposing your hard nipples and purred in approval, kissing each one of them taking his time, before wrapping his lips around them, suckling on them and flicking his tongue over them.

"Fuck princess, how many times I've seen you swimming in my pool and your sweet hard nipples so visible in your slutty bikini… you teased me so much, mi amor, you deserve to be spanked" he got rid of your bra, freeing your breasts and caressing your tits.

You rolled on your stomach at his order and Pedro immediately swatted down your ass cheeks.

The reddish tone of his hand immediately spread through your skin with a stinging sensation. You whimpered and earned another swat. Now both of your cheeks had the same shade and Pedro loved the sight. He leaned towards you, massaging your ass, feeling the heat of your sensitive skin against his palm.

"So beautiful, so hermosa mi amor" he murmured and kissed the small of your back, going his way down your cheeks, kissing them gently at the same time he used his big hands to spread them apart. Pedro could see how the string of your panties barely covered your holes, the wet cloth brushing against your sensitive slit.

He sank his teeth down your flesh gently, love bites on your plump cheeks, dragging whimpers and moans from you.

He pulled your panties to the side, groaning in approval at the sight of you completely exposed to him.

He didn't think twice before sinking his face into your core, tasting you and slurping your juices like a starving man.

You'd never felt that way with anyone, the way your skin felt on fire, like you'd burst into flames when he took you over edge at how many times he pleased you.

You welcomed him length inside of you, loving his weight against your body, his touches, whimpers and grunts, having him whole, his load deep into your womb until you finally relaxed in each other's embrace.

•••

After you spent your first night with Pedro, you also spent other nights with him, and mornings, and afternoons and as many days as you possibly could fit into your hectic schedule.

Pedro flew all over, busy with work. He was shooting movies, doing photoshoots, having interviews, attending events and it seemed everyone wanted a piece of your boyfriend.

Yes, boyfriend.

After the first time you slept together, Pedro woke you up with his lips pressed against your neck, his beard tickling your skin and a beautiful breakfast waited for you at the kitchen table. He grinned proudly at how surprised you seemed but eventually admitted he had ordered it from your favorite bakery.

It didn't matter, you loved it anyway.

And just as you ate breakfast, Pedro took your hand and caressed your knuckles so gently "I want you to be my girlfriend" he said in a shy tone "I am done playing games, Y/N, I want us to be together once for all" he said and looked into your eyes "remember when I told you about my dream?" He blushed and looked down for a moment, before staring at you again "I want it, with you and only you and if you want it as well, it doesn't have to be now, but if you say yes, then I'll be the happiest man in the world" he didn't even take a breath between sentences, those big brown puppy eyes waiting for an answer.

And your answer of course, had to be yes.

After a couple of months, Pedro asked you to move in with him, not move in together per se, as he was away so much from work you guys didn't get to live together though you shared the same house. But it was a logical conclusion to accept. That way you would save up money from rent, his house wouldn't be unattended for so many months and overall his home was bigger and more comfortable than yours. Not to mention his swimming pool was more than welcome on hot days.

Still, you didn't feel so happy when he wasn't around, but everything reminded you of him. His clothes, his cologne, his belongings, everything made the distance a little less painful.

You weren't expecting Pedro for another week while you prepared yourself a bath. You had had a stressful day at work and you needed to unwind a little.

You waited for the water to fill up the tub and picked a bath bomb. You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the times you shared the tub with Pedro. You really missed him and you sighed sadly. You took off your robe and sank yourself in the water.

You had no idea how long you'd spent in the tub, but when you were done, you could see your fingers were wrinkled at the contact with water for so long. You finally gathered the courage to break your laziness haze and dried yourself.

Pedro entered the house quietly. Though most lights were out indicating you were upstairs it just felt like home. He wasn't arriving to an empty home, he could feel the warmth inside, the one that irradiates from people, he could also smell your delicious dinner, set on the counter, cooling down before being eaten. He could smell your perfume, see your small little things scattered here and there, and he knew he was home.

It was just like his dream, though there weren't any kids around, you were home to him and he wanted to keep you close forever.

He could hear you upstairs, probably using the tub and smiled to himself, letting the house in dim lights. He sat down onto the couch and relaxed for a while.

When you finally went downstairs, you didn't remember leaving some of the lights on and frowned softly. When you got into the kitchen, you found Pedro with a bottle of water.

You squealed in happiness and ran to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and laughing as he held your hips, sustaining your weight and lifting you up.

"Mi amor, I missed you so much!!!" You said excitedly using the same pet name he had for you.

Pedro didn't say a word, he just kissed you, wanting you more than anything and once you broke the kiss, he looked at you, he took a real good look at you and his heart raced. He had made so many plans for which moment he would pick for that, but it felt perfect for him at that right time and he silently fell on his knees in front of you, getting a box out of his pocket and showing you the ring. Needless to explain, you said yes.

•••

You bit your lips as the song started playing. You'd been through so many emotions that evening but there was something more to what you were living at that moment.

Pedro took your hand and gently pulled you close to his body, he kissed your forehead and placed his hands on your hips, you looked at the small crowd of friends and family watching your first dance as a married couple and felt your heart flutter. You looked up at him and laughed softly, kissing his lips gently, earning a cheer from the guests.

You rested your head against Pedro's chest as you both swayed to the slow song and you remembered the time he broke your heart by dancing with another woman. Your arms tightened around his body unconsciously but immediately brushed off the thought. It didn't matter anymore, you and Pedro had had your dark moments, but you both overcame what happened, and improved yourselves for each other. You met again and finally admitted your feelings and now you were finally married. There were no more hidden, unrequited feelings, no more secrets from the media, you were his and he was yours. You still weren't so sure about kids. Sometimes you wanted them desperately and sometimes you were thankful you didn't have to worry about them at all.

But you had talked about maybe start trying for one next summer, once Pedro was done shooting and of course, when you had enjoyed your honeymoon. It didn't matter one bit, you had him and now he was your husband.

You looked into his eyes

"I love you, husband" you giggled "te amo mi amor" you told him in your bad spanish.

He smiled big and placed another peck on your lips

"Te amo mucho mi cariño, I love you wife"

It seemed after all, you and Pedro finally got the happy ending you both dreamed of.

The end

_____

A/N: IT'S OVER 😭 I'm so happy I finally managed to finish a story because I have never finished a story before, lmao, but I am kinda sad because I enjoyed writing this story so much. I hope you guys have liked it and don't worry, there might be another Pedro angst piece coming soon, it's just an idea that's popped into my head but I already tell you it won't be a long series like Betrayed and there will be no happy ending 😭

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #javier peña #javier pena #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader

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