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#hundred doorknobs
cakechako · 10 months
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there’s no feeling like being obsessed with a character that’s completely fucked up. psychotic. off the rails if you will. it makes me questions my own mind like…is this supposed to be therapeutic?? cathartic?? like there’s so many things wrong with them but it’s all so compelling
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shelleyspeare · 2 years
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i think i might have ocd
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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years
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Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.
In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.
I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.
But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.
I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.
He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.
But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.
And last week, he had a breakthrough.
Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.
Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.
Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.
This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.
I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.
___
If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.
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deceitfuldevout · 4 months
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Until Death (Part 1)
Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader
Word Count: +1,524
Warning(s): +18, Non con, Non consensual photographing, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Forced breeding, Unwanted orgasm.
Author's Note(s): I wrote this cause I really wanna get married and find someone to love me but I don’t think it’s possible so here’s a fic instead 🥲
You never would've imagined being married to the Kook king himself, Rafe Cameron. But here you were, almost a year in. From the beginning you felt like an outsider. Even in the new home that Ward had gifted you. It was decision made by both of your fathers. Ward wanted someone from a family he knew very well. Your fathers were childhood friends and trusted each other enough to make the right decision. Whether their children were willing to or not. An arranged marriage between a Kook and a Pogue. One of the first of its kind.
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Ward needed an heir from his only son. It was about time Rafe learned some responsibility. Ward needed to find a family with no authority or power. So, what better decision than to contact an old friend from the cut? Ward managed to pull himself out of there, your father on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. However, by Mr. Cameron's gracious offer, your father had been given a position in his company. Ward would handle the paperwork, while your father handled construction and remodeling.
It was enough to get by, but not enough to get out of the cut. That's why your father made the brash decision. Ward didn't see a problem with the arrangement given your family had no name for themselves. To him, having a family with no name or status is better than being involved with a tarnished one. It would avoid any unwanted attention for the Cameron family.
All your father wants is to make sure his only child would be taken care of once he's gone. You've only met Rafe during family events/outings, and when you did meet, he'd always try to torment you. Other than that, most of time would be spent clinging to Sarah for protection.
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You hadn't known about the arrangement until a week prior. You defiantly hadn't expected Rafe to get on one knee in front of everyone. Your engagement was a nightmare, Rafe had decided to ambush you during the Kook's annual midsummer event. A few months later you married into the Cameron family. The event being of the most lavish, expensive, and largest weddings in the history of the Outer Banks.
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Rafe made the decision that your honeymoon would be spent ‘setting up home’. You bid your family and friends a farewell before leaving with your husband. It was awkward enough that he'd been drinking for most of the night. What was supposed to be a beautiful ceremony quickly became a frat party. It was awkward enough when Rafe (who'd been drinking most of the night) tried carrying you across the threshold of what was your new home. He stumbles a few times, almost dropping you on the front steps. All you wanted was to go to bed after a long and eventful day.
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In a fit of rage you rush up the stairs and into the master bedroom. You hadn't even changed out of your wedding dress. Deciding that it would be done tomorrow, as would everything else. It was tiring, putting on an act in front of hundreds of people. You were relieved for it to be over with. Until the harsh turning of the doorknob catches your attention. In came a very intoxicated Rafe Cameron, stumbling in with his tie already undone.
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His hair was a mess from wrestling his groomsman, his expensive cologne overtaken by the stench of alcohol. All you want now is to sleep after being anxiety ridden for the past few hours. But the shuffling on the end of the bed made your stomach churn. Maybe if you pretended to be asleep he would leave you be.
Rafe reaches down to brush the back of his hand on your cheek. He couldn't help but chuckle at his fiancee--no, his wife. You're his wife now and he couldn't believe it. He grins from cheek to cheek, hovering over to study your features. You could hear Rafe talking to himself, "You're even prettier up close..."
Rafe was fine with the wedding day being for his wife, but it was the wedding night that belonged to the husband. 
He gets on his knees, preparing to strike. He pulls you but the ankle, dragging you across the bedsheets. He locks his arms around your thighs to pull you in. It was futile trying to fight back. Rafe rips away at the fabric, revealing what was for his eyes only. He doesn't waste time getting to work, suckling, lapping, and teasing at your sex.
When he starts to dip his tongue inside that's when you crumble beneath him. Your thighs shake when coming undone. A gush of arousal splashes his face. Rafe doesn't stop there, instead he keeps going until you're brought to tears cumming for the second time. He retreats with a triumphant look on his face.  
"Hey...." he whispers followed by a harsh grip on your jaw that turns your attention back to him, "Hey," his voice boomed. He held you in place, looking you right in the eyes when he states, "Look at me," a small pause follows, "No one is coming through that door to save you," he readjusts his grip, digging his fingers into your jaw, "No one is coming through that door, we're the only ones here," leaning in, "And if they heard they wouldn't care, they know their place," before lifting your skirt up, "It's about time you did too," Rafe held his cock in one hand, his other held your hip in place. He pumps his shaft a few times before rubbing it against your slick. He moans, "Oh fuck...can't wait to stuff you with it..." Rafe dips his head into the crook of your neck, his lips find that sweet spot. He suckles until he's certain there would be bruising.  
"You can scream all you want, no one’s gonna stop me,” he presses his leaking tip against the small opening, pushing it in without hesitation, “Not you…” he just his hips, “Not our families,” thrusting his cock inside, “No one…” fastening his pace. He’d been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. You had no idea that Rafe had willingly entered this marriage.
Can’t you see? He’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. Yet you kept denying him repeatedly. Now Rafe has everything he’s ever wanted. He’s inherited the Cameron family fortune, gained the trust of his father as well as yours, and now he has you.  
He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth. Reveling in the feeling of you squeezing his member. It was exactly how he’d fantasized about. No more having to spend late nights wondering what you would feel like. He has you right where he wants. Rafe pulls down your top, exposing both breasts. He nips and suckles at them until they’re nice and bruised. He takes pride in being able to do so. Rafe squeezes your mouth open before pressing his lips against them. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. The taste of liquor makes you nauseous.  
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This wasn’t how you wanted to end the night. In the end you never had a choice. Your entire life revolving around men in power. A lamb sent to be slaughter, given only the right to live. Even if it meant living for someone else. Rafe presses his sweaty forehead against yours. He snarls, "You're my wife until I fucking die, do you hear me? Until death," his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, digging hard enough to break skin.
A howl escapes your body as pain shot through it. Rafe held you close to him until he finally reached his limit and finishes inside. A deep, guttural moan is muffled into the bite mark. For a moment the two of you stay together until finally Rafe draws back. He’s a panting mess. He could practically feel how slick you became. He lets out a satisfying huff of victory. Rafe had won.  
A part of him wants to remember the day he finally got to take you. Then it hits him, “Wait…don’t move,” rummaging through a cabinet. He retreats down the hall. You could hear him searching for something in the unopened boxes. He then returns to you with a Polaroid in hand. He straddles your waist, aiming the lens at you. Rafe smiles, “Something to remember this moment...” he aims it right in your face, “...our first time as husband and wife,” before clicking it.
You could only give a startled look as you stare back at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Rafe inspects the photo of you. He whistles at the beautifully captured moment. There you were, staring back at him with smudged lipstick and running mascara. You only blink as he stood there, snapping pictures like it was some heartfelt moment. What was supposed to be the most important day of your life, ended in the worst way imaginable.
"Smile for me Mrs. Cameron..."
Rafe was fine with the conditions of inheritance. In order to stay in his father's will, he would have to settle down first. But if there's one thing Ward taught him, it's to negotiate. Rafe remembers striking the deal in his father's office. For the first time ever, the young Cameron man put his foot down,
"No," Rafe states,
Ward looks up at his son, "I'm sorry?"
"I'm not getting married, not unless it's her," he's dead serious too. Ward sighs, he leans back in his chair, "Do you really want to marry this girl?" questioning his son's authenticity. Rafe nods, "It's always been her,"
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Ward understands now that his son's mind is made up. Not even he could stop it, "Rafe...you have to understand that her father is a very important member of my company..." he starts, "...he's a bit of a... traditionalist," he pushes himself off the desk, approaching his son, "He expects a certain price for her hand, that I’m not worried about…” he held Rafe's shoulder.
Ward looks his son dead in the eyes to show how serious this situation was to both of their families, “Do not fuck this up, you only get one shot and then you're done, do you hear me? Done," he expects an answer. Rafe looks him in the eyes, there’s a park of determination in the young Cameron man, “I won't,” sealing the deal. Ward picks up his phone and dials up your father’s number, "My friend, you're needed at the office, it's about time we discuss family matters,"
The best decision Rafe made was making you Mrs. Cameron.
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mockerycrow · 11 months
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Love your works! May I please get a "don't worry, i'm not going anywhere." with Ghost? Take your time, I love what you write!
400 Follower Celebration
—“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”— With Ghost
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Summary: You’re apart of the 141 and Ghost recently had a near-death experience. You’ve been plagued with nightmares about the situation, but you try to hide it from him, feeling selfish about your night terrors. One night, you’re thoroughly convinced Ghost had actually died.
A/N: THANK YOUUU I KEEP BLUSHING ILY AND TYSM FOR 500 FOLLOWERS
[WARNINGS: vomit, detailed nightmares, panic attack, gore, fake-death, angst, hurt/comfort.]
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It was always the same nightmare. It was a repeat of that one mission months ago—nearly a year ago by now, where you and your team went to grab some important intel about a new uprising cartel that was showing some dangerous potential. It was a large compound, four floors including the basement, wide rooms with many blind-spots. Using your rifle equipped with a heat signature sensor, you swept room to room, leading your team through the building, putting anyone down who dared fired a bullet at you or your team.
You turn that familiar corner and your heart sinks. You’ve tried many times to change the course of this dream, but no matter how frantically you try to scream about what is waiting on the other side of that door, your mouth refuses to work until Ghost rumbles out, “I’ll take point.” You try to fight every muscle in your body to stop this, but it’s like the dream freezes until you continue down the.. “right path”. Quite literally is a living fucking hell for you, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it except do what it wants you to do.
“Roger.” You mutter, backing up behind Ghost instead of staying in front of him and leading him the others. The others are always blank faced soldiers in this nightmare, but you know who is who. You pat his shoulder, aimming over him as you walk down the hall close together, hugging the wall. You’ve been through this so many times, you know to eye the floor and you watch the moment happen—Ghost steps on a pressure plate and—BOOM.
You’re always forced to watch it in slow motion; the wall being blown open right next to Ghost, watching the debris scatter everywhere, scraping yourself up as well as Ghost. He raises his arm to shield his face from whatever is happening, unable to process in time that a man wielding a sharp combat knife is pulling his arm back and comes down with it.
You watch the way the knife so easily slides into his rib cage, and it’s almost like you could hear it penetrating his lung like it did—but this time, the man rips the knife out and does it again and again and again—this has never happened before—Ghost’s falling to the ground, his blood splattering everywhere, fuck, it’s like the guy is trying to gut him—but you can’t move. You have to sit there and watch this man. plunge a knife in and out of Ghost’s chest until he finally decides to stab him deep and yank downwards, spilling his intestines and stomach—yet, his lifeless eyes keep eye contact the entire time.
Your eyes fly open, dizzy from your heart pounding and unable to focus, you throw the blanket off of you and you make your way out of whatever room you’re in—you’re too freaked out to know. Your chest aches and feels like there’s a hundred tons sitting on your rib cage, restricting your breathing. You keep walking until you bump into something and you manage to focus enough to notice it’s the bathroom door. Your hand shakily grabs the doorknob and opens it, and you already feel the vomit traveling up your throat.
You end up bent over the open toilet, body heaving with every exile of the contents of your stomach, which by this time of night is mostly just bile. Your head is spinning and your hands keep shaking and by this point, you really don’t care how clean this bathroom is. You lean your elbows on the toilet rim and hold your head in your hands, trying your best to stifle a sob, even though all you can smell and feel is his blood on your fingertips. Your tears drip down your cheeks and collect at your chin before dripping off.
You keep one arm on the toilet seat to keep your head propped up and the other goes around your stomach, which is twisting painfully inside of your gut, ripping another sob from you. You gag into the toilet, but you’ve already thrown everything you had inside. Your throat and nose burns from the stomach acid, but it doesn’t compare to the emotional pain of losing Ghost. You just stood there and watched him get gutted—why do you deserve to grieve when you could have prevented it in the first place? Someone killed the Ghost, and you let it fucking happen.
A large hand sprawls across the flat of your back which is accompanied by a low, gritty voice. Whoever it is says something, but you don’t quite hear them. It’s probably Price, trying to comfort you, trying to say there’s one thing you could’ve done to stop it, but you know there was something you could do, anything you could’ve done.
Price calls your name and you go to shove him away, but his hands wrap around your wrists, and the voice is more insistent. You choke on a sob and shake your head, struggling against him until you hear it—his voice. “Fuck, [Name], can you hear me?” Ghost’s voice. It’s his voice.
No. Your mind is playing tricks on you and you won’t fall for it, you won’t let yourself go through this horrendous grief for a second time. You try to curl up into a ball, wanting to grab at your hair or your clothes, just anything but be here. “Look at me.” His hands grab your face and force your face to look at him and..
It’s him. It’s Ghost.
All of your noises stop for a moment as you stare with wide eyes that are full of unfallen tears, eyes full of grief, all for him. Ghost stares back at you with uncharacteristically wide eyes, and you can see the way his hands are slightly trembling—he’s worried about you. Ghost’s eyebrows furrow when he sees your expression of anguish. “Hey—hey, what happened?” Ghost’s voice is so quiet, like he’s afraid you’ll break if he speaks any louder. Your hands come up to his mask and touch it and you burst into a harsh sob again, throwing your arms around him.
Usually, Ghost would hesitate. He would be reluctant to reciprocate such personal touch, such desperation, but he pulls you close into his arms without a second thought. Your hands grab his shirt and you breakdown into his chest, wetting the fabric with your tears. His heart slipped a beat because he’s never seen you like this—has never seen you break down this horribly.
He’d be here when you were ready to talk about it, but for now he’ll stay to hold you until your shoulders stop shaking. Ghost moves to sit on his bottom and you whimper in fear, like he’ll leave. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”
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nats-firefly · 3 months
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mommy? sorry
wanda maximoff x reader
summary: you ended things with your girlfriend and her mom wanted one last goodbye.
warnings: mommy kink, strap-on use, oral (r giving), smut 18+ only
a/n: another repost!
🚩 warnings are clearly stated please do not report/flag :) 🚩
words: 2.0k | feedback is always welcome | masterlist
header made by wickussy (rip) | divider source
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You walked up the step’s to your now ex-girlfriend’s front door, already looking above the doorframe for the extra house key. You knew she wasn’t in the house, she made sure to text you so you could go grab your stuff. Things didn’t end well between the two of you and so you both wanted to avoid each other.
You were fumbling with the doorknob when the door swung open, Wanda stood there with a smile, greeting you with just as much warmth as she did before you broke up with her daughter. 
“Y/N,” She greeted with surprise, her eyes raking down to your shoes as her lips turned up into grin. “Didn’t think I’d see you back so soon.”
“I just came here to get my stuff, Ms Maximoff,” Her eyes met yours then, before releasing a piercing giggle.
“Ms Maximoff? Why the formality?” Her hand touched your shoulder and ran down your arm, pulling you into the house. “You haven’t called me that since you and Lucy started dating.”
You gave her a tight-lipped smile as the older woman’s eyes drifted down your body again with a predatory gaze. “May I?”
“Of course,” She said, flashing you a bright smile. Your eyes dipped down to her lips before going back up to her eyes then towards the stairs. Did she do something different? Has she always been this hot?
Her eyes followed you up the stairs, and you chose to shake the feeling of wanting to see her riding your strap. You walked through the doors of the room you’d been in hundreds of times before, but now everything felt somewhat different. Your mind wondering how many times Lucy had other girls over while you were together.
You sighed, shaking your head as you made your way to her dresser. You opened the bottom drawer, taking the couple toys you left at her place and placing them into your backpack. You looked further through the drawer, finding the strap and almost dropping it when you turned back around to Wanda leaning against the doorframe, her crossed arms pushing her breasts up into view.
“I- I’m almost done Ms Maximoff,” You stuttered, fumbling to pick up your bacg when she stopped you.
“Are you sure you’re done with that, baby?” She asked, running her hand down your arm and gripping the strap over your hand. “Don’t you wanna use it one last time?”
You felt her hand push the strap closer to your body before your pants were suddenly discarded and you felt the weight of the strap between your legs. Wanda stepped closer to you, her lips close to your ear as she pressed her body against you.
“Don’t you wanna get back at her?” Her voice filled your ears, making goosebumps appear on your skin as her hand started sliding up your shirt. You stepped away from her, dumfounded at her suggestion but not completely dismissing it. Her hand remained under your shirt, making her smile. You could’ve stepped all the way back, but you didn’t. Her head tilted to the side with a grin when you brought your hand onto hers under your shirt, and pressed it against you rather than pushing her away.
“You’re a terrible mother,” You said, your other hand snaking around her waist before your head dipped into her neck.
“Step-mother,” She corrected, moaning when your teeth grazed her skin as her nails dug into your scalp. Your hands slid down to cup her ass, pulling her hips flush against yours, Wanda’s eyes rolling to the back of her head when she felt the strap rubbing against her. “Just shut up and let me ride you.”
She pulled your head back, turning the two of you around and pushing you back onto the bed before you could come up with an answer. You raised yourself up onto your elbows, looking down at her as she shimmied her lacy underwear down her legs, the fabric sliding down from under her skirt. You raked your eyes back up her body, her hands tugging her short dress over her thighs as she straddled you. 
Your hands slid up her thighs, gripping her hips as she lined the toy up with her entrance. Her cheeks flushed as the tip easily slid into her, her pussy already soaked by the sight of you wearing the strap. 
“Already so wet for me,” You said, pulling her hips further down the strap. She moaned, clawing at your chest for balance. You started moving your hips up into her, her hips grinding down onto yours as her moans became more high pitched. “Fuck Mommy, you’re so hot-”
You bit your lip looking away when her hips faltered, her head leaning down as she looked at you. A smug grin covered her features as she smiled down at you, her hips starting their pace back up as she took your hands into hers and slid them up her body to cup her breasts through her dress.
“Call me that again,” Your fingers pressed into her as you pushed her breasts together, making her roll her hips with a moan.
“Does that feel good, Mommy?” You asked pinching her nipples between your fingers and bucking your hips up into her making the redhead whine and sink down further onto you. You lifted your hips into her a couple more times, her moans interrupting her every time she tried to respond. “I’m gonna take that as a yes.”
She grunted, almost growled at that, her hand coming up to your throat as she started bouncing up and down your strap, taking control of the pace. “Don’t be a smartass, honey, that’s not gonna end in your favor.”
For a second then you thought about what you were actually doing, but as you looked down at your strap disappearing inside Wanda while her hand around your throat applied just enough pressure to give you a head rush, you didn’t care. And if you were honest with yourself, ever since you met Wanda there was just something about her. You’ve wanted to do this for a long time.
“So you’ve wanted to fuck me for a while now huh?” Wanda said, making your eyes snap up to her now glowing red ones. Her pace picked up, her breasts bouncing under the thin fabric of her dress. Your eyes widened, realizing she was reading your mind. Your hands slid back down to her hips guiding her movements as you fucked her harder.
“How could I not?” You asked, moving your hips and fucking her deeper, her hands settled back on your chest for balance, deep moans emanating from her chest. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you always wear low cut clothing around me,” She moaned, the muscles on her stomach tightening as her orgasm approached. “Or how you always make an excuse to be alone in a room with me,” Your nails dug into her skin as you fucked her up and down the strap, her breaths getting heavier. “Or how you touch yourself to the thought of me.”
Her eyes widened as another moan ripped its way through her body. “I almost walked in on you, but decided to just let you do your thing while I watched,” Wanda’s hips desperately moved against you, the redhead chasing her orgasm as she remembered that day - she knew you were watching. “You sounded so pretty moaning my name. I wanna hear it again.”
“Fuck, Y/N, please,” She moaned, her grip loosened around your throat, her mouth forming into an O as you bucked your hips into her. “I wan- I need to cum.”
“Cum for me, Mommy,” You gripped her hips and planted your feet on the mattress, thrusting into her at a new angle and completely sending her over the edge. She screamed out, her nails dragging down your chest as she came on your strap, her arousal easily coating the toy.
You fucked her through her orgasm, giving her soft praises while she kept moving on top of you. You guided her hips, slowing down as she regained her composure, her hair sticking to her now sweaty skin. Your eyes drifted down to where your bodies met, smirking at the way your strap glistened as you lifted her off of it. 
“Fuck,” She breathed out, laying down next to you. “That was so much better than I was expecting.”
“If you think it’s over, it’s not,” You turned you head to look at her before settling yourself between her thighs and leaning over her body. “I like to be very thorough.”
Your lips met her neck, leaving a couple marks in their wake. “Watch it,” Wanda hissed through her teeth as she felt your soft bites on her neck. You continued kissing down her body, your hands cupping her breasts as you took her nipple into your mouth. She arched her back into you with a moan, her fingers entangling in your hair pressing you harder against her. 
Your tongue circled the hardened nub, your hand playing with the other. Wanda moaned, shutting her eyes and throwing her head back as you sucked her nipple while pulling your head back, smirking up at her. Your eyes never left her face as you moved your mouth to her other nipple, gently sinking your teeth onto the soft skin of her chest.
You flicked her nipple with your tongues, making her buck her hips up, her still soaked center rubbing against your clothed stomach. You smirked against her skin, releasing her with a pop and simply massaging her breasts while you looked up at her.
“Don’t-” She whined, “Don’t stop.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” You said smugly. “Just wanted to see you get a little desperate.”
You felt yourself being pushed down to her pussy before you saw the rest mist surrounding you, making you release a low chuckle. “If you wanted me to eat you out you could’ve just asked, Mommy.”
“Are you gonna put your mouth to better use or are you gonna keep being a brat?” Her hand buried itself in your hair and pushed you into her, you tongue immediately sipping into her. Her taste clouded your senses, making you groan into her. Your tongue circled her clit, her hips bucking into your face. 
Your arms circled her thighs and pulled her closer as her second orgasm of the night started building. Your tongue dipped into her making her hold your head on her as she used your tongue to get off, your face getting completely soaked as she came for a second time. You softly licked her folds, giving her clit one last tease before pulling your mouth away.
“What. The. Fuck.” You heard your ex-girlfriend’s voice ring behind you. You looked over your shoulder back at her while Wanda’s chest rose and fell as she caught her breath, a grin on your lips as you brought your hand up to wipe her arousal off your face.
“Sorry, Lucy, didn’t see you there,” You said, walking over to pull your pants back on over your strap. Wanda had very kindly discarded them over the open drawer on the dresser. “I’m all done over here.”
You gave Wanda one last look before picking up your backpack from the floor and slinging it over one shoulder. You walked over to the door, where Lucy was standing and looked back at Wanda over your shoulder, sending her one last wink before looking back at your ex-girlfriend one last time. 
Not only did you get back at Lucy, but you also got to fuck the hottest milf you’d ever seen. Win win.
It wasn’t until a few weeks later when you heard from Wanda again. The events of the last time you saw her being one of the only things on your mind for the past however many days. 
And with just a few texts, you found yourself driving back to the house you never though you would go back to.
Lucy’s out of town. 
And I can’t stop thinking about your mouth between my legs.
Among other things ;)
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thebimbopalace · 4 months
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VIBRATION
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ੈ✩‧₊˚ suguru geto x f!reader
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ wc: 3.8k
✧.*blurb: Your best friend suguru ends up finding your vibrator when the thought pops into his head, “I wonder what she looks like when she cums.” Needless to say…he finds out.
ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ | bestie!sugu, sex toys (vibrator), couch sex, pet names (pretty girl, beautiful, baby), use of good girl, slight nipple play (f.receiving), oral sex (m.receiving), raw sex, missionary position, praise, slight handjob, dirty talk
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“You got a charger?” Suguru asks while you and him are in your living room on the couch. You say “In my nightstand drawer” while not tearing your eyes away from the show you and him are watching. He nods then gets up from the couch and walks over to your bedroom. He turns the doorknob and enters the room. The feminine scent of you fills his nose and his mind automatically gets clouded with thoughts of you…and him.
He’s been in this room hundreds maybe thousands of times over the years, but recently it feels more intimate being in your bedroom. Suguru shakes his head to rid those thoughts of you from his brain. He knows you and him are only friends and nothing will ever happen but, he can’t help but fantasize. He goes to your nightstand drawer, opens it, sees the charger you were talking about then grabs it. Before he closes the drawer he sees a pink satin drawstring bag with something in it. He knows that he should just close the drawer and go back to you in the living room, but his curiosity gets the best of him.
Suguru places the charger on your bed and grabs the pink bag. He inspects it seeing that the bag is pretty large and it looks like it's only holding one thing inside it. Suguru opens it and his eyes widen at what he sees. He pulls out the Hitachi magic wand vibrator you have stored in there. Suguru chuckles to himself at the fact that you have this but that you also didn't think to hide it better. You must've known that he would see it since he was grabbing the charger in the same drawer. This makes Suguru think “Maybe she wanted me to see it”. While still holding the vibrator in his hands Suguru’s mind starts to race. All he can think about is you, laying on your back in this bed that’s in front of him while you hold the vibrator on your little clit. The sounds you’d make, how fucked out you'd look, how his name would sound falling from your beautiful lips. He begins to feel his cock harden in his sweatpants at the sheer thought of you.
He starts to slowly stroke his bulge over his sweatpants causing him to let out a soft groan at the feeling. “I wonder what she looks like when she cums,” Suguru thinks. That thought alone hardens his cock even more. He continues to stroke his bulge until your voice cuts through the arousal he feels. “Suguru, did you find the charger?” you yell from the living room. He doesn't answer right away due to his voice being husky. Suguru was about to answer you when an idea popped into his head. He smirks to himself and places the vibrator back in the bag. Grabbing the charger and the pink satin bag, he walks back into the living room.
You’re still sitting on your living room couch on your phone. You hear Suguru’s heavy footsteps and say “What, did you get lost on the way to my room or something?” in a playful tone with a small chuckle at the end. “No, but I did find something interesting,” he says. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you ask sounding uninterested but knowing damn well you want to know what he's talking about. Suguru puts the charger on the table and says “This.” You look up from your phone and see him holding your pink satin bag with your vibrator in it.
He can’t help but laugh at the look of pure shock and embarrassment on your face. “Suguru, why the fuck are you holding that?” you ask in a flustered tone. “Oh, this? This is just something I found,” he says teasingly. You feel so embarrassed that you can't even think of a comeback for what he is saying. Suguru looks at your flustered expression and says “There’s no reason to be embarrassed pretty girl. You bought this so you can make that pussy of yours feel good, right?” still teasing you. You feel your face heat at the pet name along with the question he just asked. You nod your head while looking down at your fingers feeling shy. “Use your words, baby,” he says in a soft commanding tone. “Y-yes, that's why I bought it,” you say as you fumble over your words.
Suguru walks over to you on the couch and puts his hand under your chin. He lifts your head gently so you can look into his eyes. “You wanted me to see this huh? You wanted me to find your vibrator, didn’t you baby?” he asks while slowly stroking under your chin. You look at him with wide eyes and shake your head. His hold on your chin tightens as he says “Words pretty girl, use them,” in a stern tone. “No, I didn’t want you to find it,” you say trying to lie to yourself about the situation.
Suguru chuckles and begins to open the drawstrings of the bag. He then pulls out the wand and inspects it. The cordless wand, sleek white design along with the bulbous head of the vibrator that you place on your cunt and clit almost daily is now in the hands of your best friend. The way Suguru looks at the toy makes you think he has some idea, and that thought alone makes you buzz with a nervous, excited energy. “You know, I've always wondered what you look like when you cum,” he says then holds the power button for three seconds, turning it on. The soft buzzing sound of the wand fills the air in the living room, adding to the tension between you and Suguru. “Care to show me that pretty face when you’re cumming?” he says in a seductive tone. Before you can even think whether this is a good idea or not you say “yes.”
“Good girl,” Suguru says while walking towards you on the couch. “Lean back on the couch beautiful,” he said. You move up towards the edge of the couch and lean back in a half-laying-down position. Suguru grabs your legs with one hand, gently lifts them in the air, and spreads them open. Suguru turns the wand onto the lowest setting and begins to move the head of it up and down your inner thighs. You know that he's teasing you and you want nothing more than to feel the delicious vibrations on your hardening clit.
Suguru puts his hand on your knee as he moves the wand up and down your soft inner thighs. He then moves the wand slowly towards your clothed cunt before moving it back up towards the center of your thigh, which causes you to whine at the teasing. “Whining already? I haven’t even done anything yet,” he says with a small chuckle at the end. He then takes his hand that was on your knee and places it under your tit. “No bra huh? You must've really wanted me to touch you, baby.” You feel your breathing start to become heavy as his hand begins to massage your titty with his big hand. Suguru then moves the wand up your body and places it on your other titty with the vibrating head on your nipple. “Ah,” you softly moan at the vibrations on your nipple.
“Such a sensitive girl,” Suguru says as he sees you start to squirm from his movements and the wand. He then slides the wand from your titty slowly down the middle of your stomach so you can feel all the vibrations through your clothes. You feel the juices of your arousal start to seep through your panties and make a wet spot on your shorts. Suguru moves the wand back to your inner thighs where he sees the wet spot decorating your shorts. “Damn, already so wet huh?” He says which causes you to nod your head while biting your lip softly to hold your sounds back. He then takes his other hand and uses his fingers to lightly pinch your nipples. You jolt from the mixture of pleasure and pain you just felt from his hand. Suguru licks his lips and then says “I think it’s time to give that greedy cunt what it needs.”
He turns off the vibrator and puts it to the side of you on the couch then brings his hands to the waistband of your shorts. “Lift your hips for me, baby,” he says in a husky tone which causes you to follow the command. After you lift your hips a bit he takes off your shorts and panties in one swift motion. Suguru then spreads your legs to expose your cunt to him. The sight of your cunt glistening with your arousal makes his mouth water. “You have such a pretty pussy” he then spreads your pussy lips to reveal your twitching clit. “And a pretty little clit to match,” he says with a smirk on his face.
You let out a soft whine and clench at his praise of your cunt…which Suguru noticed. He continues to inspect your wet cunt and says “Mmm, such a pretty clit like yours deserves to be kissed, right?” You let out a small “yes, please” in a breathless voice which makes Suguru’s cock harden even further. “Thought so,” he says then leans in close to place an open-mouthed kiss right over your clit. “Mmm,” you moan and slightly buck your hips to encourage him to do it again.
“I know just what my needy little girl needs,” he then grabs the vibrator wand and turns it back on to a medium setting. The sound of the whirring noise makes your body shiver with arousal. Suguru takes his other hand and spreads your cunt with his thumb and index finger to reveal your slit just begging to be filled. He places the vibrating head right onto it which, causes a small moan to leave your mouth. It’s clear to Suguru that you are trying to hold your moans back, to which he says, “Don’t hold your moans back baby, let me hear all your pretty sounds” in a seductive tone.
He then moves the vibrator up and down on your slit at a slow pace, really taking his time to tease you. The more that Suguru teases your slit with the vibrating head, the more you want him to tongue fuck you until you're crying. “Suguru, faster please,” you say in a soft moan causing him to move the wand a bit faster to satiate that need you are feeling. You start to squirm on the couch from his movements which causes him to say “Look at the pretty girl squirming so hard on this toy. Feels good, doesn't baby?” in a tone laced with teasing. “Yes, yes, don’t stop sugu.”
Suguru keeps one hand behind your thigh to keep your leg lifted in the air while his other hand uses the vibrator to work over your slit. You take your hand to lift your other leg so both of your legs are in the air, making you spread open for Suguru so he can keep making you feel good. “That’s a good girl. I don’t even have to tell you what I want” he says in approval seeing your legs spread in the air for him. “Just for that, my pretty girl will be rewarded now” he then slowly slides the vibrating head to where your clit is exposed and presses it against it. “Ah, shit sugu” you whine finally feeling the amazing pressure on your throbbing clit.
While keeping the pressure on your clit, Suguru gets up and places one knee on the couch next to you…which causes his clothed, hard cock to be in your face. “Suguru,” you say softly. He then takes your hand that's on your thigh and places it on the hard bulge, which causes you to begin to stroke him gently. Your cunt clenches around nothing as the thoughts of his hard, thick cock sliding in and out of you. The arousal you are feeling overpowers your senses and before you know it you’re pulling down the front of his sweatpants and freeing his cock from its confines.
You put the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers under his balls to expose his cock to you. Your mouth waters at the sight of his long dick with the prettiest pink tip. He isn’t too girthy to the point where the stretch of him would hurt, but he’s girthy enough that you’d feel full the minute he slides inside of you. Suguru watches as your eyes get mesmerized by his cock. He says “Go on baby, suck my cock like you've been wanting to.” As you go to put your hand on his cock, he grabs your hand and holds it in his. Suguru looks at you and says “No hands pretty girl, I want just that mouth on me” while he interlocks his fingers with yours.
You open your mouth and run your tongue on the underside of his cock from base to tip. You then enclose your lips around the sensitive pink tip. As your lips are around his cockhead you swirl your tongue around the tip and lightly suckle on it. “Oh fuck baby,” Suguru says in a moan as he keeps the vibrating head on the wand right on top of your wet clit. You then stick your tongue out from your mouth and begin to slide your mouth back and forth, taking his cock far down your throat.
He lets his moans and groans freely fall out of his mouth as he squeezes your hand that’s in his. You keep bobbing your head back and forth on Suguru’s cock with eager intentions. As you do this you start to feel your saliva drip from his cock onto the couch cushions below him. “Mmm, making a mess on my cock pretty girl?” he asked with a husky voice. “Mhm,” you say, muffled by his big cock in your mouth.
Suguru starts to move the vibrator in small, tight circles on your clit which causes you to move your hips in tandem with the vibrator. You begin to suck Suguru’s cock faster as gagging, slurping sounds fill the air in your living room. “Keep sucking that cock, jus’ like that fuck,” he says with a groan. He looks down at you with a smug smirk on his face when he sees you eagerly suck him off. “You've been dying to have this cock in your mouth, huh baby?” his voice laced with pleasure and huskiness. You look up at him and stare into his eyes while his cock is stuffed in your mouth.
You take your free hand and start to gently massage his balls, which makes Suguru throw his head back in pure bliss. “Fuck, fuck, fuck” Suguru chants in moans as his hips start to move on their own, face fucking you. He keeps the vibrating head of the wand right on your swollen clit and moves it in those small, tight circles. You start to moan louder feeling yourself start to get closer to your orgasm. You pull your mouth off of Suguru’s cock to catch your breath then let go of Suguru’s hand and place it on him and start to jerk him off in languid strokes. With each stroke of your hand, you gently squeeze the head of his cock, which brings him closer and closer to the edge.
Suguru grabs your hand and takes it off of his cock. You look at him with a confused expression and he says, “Can’t have me cumming too quick. I need to have that pretty pussy on me before then.” You let out a small giggle in pleasure then you say “Please, fuck me Sugu.” in a soft, needy tone. “Oh, don't worry baby. I'll fuck you real good, ” he says with a small chuckle at the end. He takes the vibrator off your cunt and moves off the couch. Suguru then moves in front of you on the couch and puts one of his knees on the floor while his other foot is planted on the floor.
You take your hands and place them back on the underside of your thighs again and spread your legs wide for him. “Spread that pussy for me baby,” he says in a slightly commanding tone. You then take your hands and go down to the sides of your cunt and spread yourself open for him. He looks down at your wet cunt and licks his lips at the sight of your hole twitching and your slick coming out of you and wetting the couch cushion below you. He takes his hand and strokes his cock twice before lining up the tip at your entrance. You look down at where his cock is positioned with anticipation in your eyes. Suguru gently slides inside your warm, wet cunt and you both let out moans in unison at his entry.
“Oh, shit sugu,” you moan out when you feel his big cock stretch you out in the best way. He starts to draw his hips back slowly then he slams his cock back into your cunt hard. Your body jolts as you moan “Oh, fuck,” out loud. Suguru keeps up that slow pull-out and the hard push-back inside strokes, which makes your toes curl in pleasure. “Faster sugu, faster,” you say in your breathless voice and Suguru complies with your needy request. His hard cock begins to piston in and out of you at a fast pace while still maintaining the hard push. Suguru lets out a loud groan when you clench around his cock, then he says “Mmm, look at the good girl take that hard cock.” Your mind turns to mush due to his strokes as your moans fall out of your mouth.
All that is on your mind is Suguru and the way he fucks you so well…better than anyone you've ever fucked in the past. As he fucks you, you look at his muscular body, the way his long hair flows down his back and frames his face, he truly looks so damn good to you right now. You take your hands and place them on his strong, muscular arms feeling the hard muscle and soft skin. The pace of his strokes starts to increase to a faster pace and your hands start to grip on to his. “Yes, yes sugu. Please keep fucking me,” you say as your voice gets higher due to the immense pleasure you are feeling. “My pretty girl loves my cock, doesn't she?” he says gazing right into your eyes. “Yes I do, that cock feels so good, fuck.”
Suguru lets out a breathless chuckle at your words. He's trying so hard to not cum yet. Suguru has been wanting you on your back for him for so long, and now that it's finally happened he wants to savor the feeling as well as the beautiful sight. Your moans increase in frequency as well as pitch which makes him ask “Close baby?” and you respond with a moan of “Uh huh.” He keeps the same fast pace as his balls slap against your ass which adds to the ecstasy you're feeling right now. Suguru grabs the vibrator wand and turns it back on again on the highest setting. The soft whirring sound fills your ears and you start to say “Please, please put it on my clit sugu,” in a soft, begging voice.
“You just read my mind beautiful,” he says then takes his hand and spreads your pussy to expose your clit to him and the warm air surrounding you and Suguru. He then places the vibrating head right on top of your hard clit and you automatically clench hard on his cock. Suguru keeps pistoning his cock in and out of you while keeping the vibrating head on your clit. You both start to uncontrollably moan as your pussy gets wetter while the vibrations from the wand makes Suguru’s cock feel even better than it already does.
And just like that, you moan “I'm gonna cum sugu,” while you move your hips to meet his thrusts. “Oh, you're gonna cum baby?” he asked while leaning over your body so his cock reaches deeper inside you. The minute you feel his cock get deeper inside you moan “Right there, right fucking there sugu,” as your hips match his pace. He keeps fucking you hard and fast while keeping the vibrator on your clit. “I’m, I’m-” You can’t get the words out because of how hard you're about to cum on his cock. “Cum baby, cum on my cock,” he says in a seductive whisper right in your ear. Your legs spread wider as you moan “I’m cumming sugu, I’m cumming holy f-fuck,” loudly.
That phrase is music to Suguru’s ears as he feels your cunt contract hard and fast around him. He moans loudly with you and says “S-shit baby, that pussy is cumming so hard on me.” You keep moaning as you continue to cum hard and see white spots behind your eyes. The vibrating head of the wand stays right on your clit as overstimulation starts to creep up on you. Your whines and whimpers fill the air in your living room. Hearing those sounds makes Suguru say “Gods, I'm gonna cum in that pretty pussy, baby,” and then he cums with the loudest, raspiest groan from the back of his throat. You feel his cum fill your cunt to the brim which brings you an odd sense of comfort and closeness that you haven't felt with him before. Yours and Suguru’s bodies finally relax as he takes the vibrator off your clit, turns it off, and tosses it to the side.
Suguru presses his forehead against yours and looks into your eyes with a sense of calm and something you identify as love. “Damn, that was…intense,” he says out of breath. You let out a chuckle, equally out of breath then say “Yeah, it was Sugu.” He laughs with you and then places a soft kiss on your forehead which makes your heart melt a bit. Silence falls over you and him for a while as you both bask in the afterglow of the intense fucking you both just did. You break the silence by saying “So…what does this mean now?” in a soft voice and Suguru can sense the nervousness in your tone. He looks at you in your beautiful face and says “This means you’re mine baby.”
Suguru leans in and places a kiss on your lips and you happily kiss him back. He breaks it and says “You’re right where you belong,” in a soft, dominant voice. You smile at him then say “And you’re mine Sugu.” He lets out a deep laugh and then leans in and kisses you passionately. “Finally,” you think to yourself while you and him kiss. You knew the feelings you had for Suguru were deeper than just a friendship and now, it's out in the open. And you can't help but feel happy with him in your arms finally.
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babydollmarauders · 4 months
Text
WRAPPED UP IN A BOW — QUINN HUGHES
quinn hughes x fem!reader
12 DAYS OF KINKMAS
summary: in which y/n welcomes Quinn home with a gift
warnings: NSFW CONTENT, praise, oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected). (3.1k words)
notes: welcome to day 8 of the 12 days of kinkmas!
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a week. seven days. one hundred and sixty-eight hours.
that’s how long my husband has been out of town.
four road games done and over with and now he’s finally coming home to me.
in retrospect, getting married at the very end of the summer wasn't the best decision Quinn and i have ever made. with no time for a honeymoon before he had to be back in Vancouver for training camp, and then hockey season starting, we've had barely any time to relax and bask in the joy of being newlyweds.
which may be why i'm feeling particularly in the holiday spirit. one more home game and then we get almost an entire week to laze around, celebrate the holidays, and just enjoy the life of being newly married.
i’ve spent the last three days decorating our apartment; a wreath on the front door, our tree with ornaments hung gently on the branches, mistletoe over every doorway. miscellaneous holiday themed trinkets are scattered throughout our home.
but my favorite part of the past few days isn’t the decor, or the music i’ve had blasting, or even the christmas cookies i baked. rather, it’s the idea that popped into my head while shopping for all of the said decor online; when i found a body bow.
and after numerous hours, which were impatiently waited through, and countless youtube tutorials, i sit perched upon the end of my bed, wrapped snugly in the red satin bow.
my breasts are tied high and taut, pushed together tightly by the soft fabric and half covered by the oversized bow; while a strip of the satin reaches over one shoulder and through my legs. technically, all intimate areas are covered, but with one tug of the bow, it would all unravel, leaving me naked and ready. a present for my husband to enjoy.
my eyes are glued to my phone, Quinn’s location dancing across the screen, getting closer and closer to our apartment with each passing second.
it’s not often that i would be awake so late, waiting up for him. often times, i’m asleep when he gets back from a roadie, only waking up when i feel his strong arms wrap around me in bed.
as his location pings at our apartment complex, my heart beat rises in my chest, excitement pulling at my every atom. i’m shaky, phone haphazardly tossed onto my nightstand before i get into position; legs crossed and my weight leaned back on my hands.
it feels as though time is dragging on, towing through metaphorical mud. seconds feel like hours as i wait to hear him enter our apartment.
all the lights are off leading into our room, adding to the illusion that he’ll find me fast asleep.
i’m so lost in thought, knees bouncing in exhilaration, that it isn’t until i hear footsteps bounding down the hall that i realize he’s arrived. blood whirls in my ears, my skin heating up at the mere thought of his touch.
“no, she’s probably asleep.” his words carry through the echoey hallway, “Jack, i’m not waking my wife so you can ask her relationship advice. just call her tomorrow.”
i bite back a laugh as i listen to the one sided conversation with his brother. Quinn’s voice turns hushed as he gets closer to our bedroom, obviously attempting not to ‘wake’ me.
the doorknob twists, the door creaking open to display my husband. his head is down, phone pressed to his ear as he carries his road bag into the room. even from here i can see the crease thats formed between his threaded brows, dark bags accentuated under his green eyes.
he turns, gently closing the door behind him with minimal noise, but when he turns back around, his eyes meet mine. his eyes widen, lips parting with a gentle huff of air before he mutters a quick parting to his brother.
“i gotta go, just call her tomorrow.” the call is quickly hung up, his phone set on the dresser with his bag, never breaking eye contact.
“welcome home.” i watch with a crooked smirk as his eyes rake over my figure, slowly dragging down my body before scanning his way back up.
“fucking shit.”
a giggle rises up my throat at his curse, his steps towards me hurried. he sinks down to his knees, eyeing the intricate bow that graces my body. with his hands finding my knees, he carefully pulls my legs apart so that he can fit between them.
“shit, baby,” he pauses, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment, “this all for me?”
i nod, peering down at him with the most innocent eyes that i can summon.
“mhm,” my tone is quiet but sultry, “played so well, and i missed you so much.”
he stands, towering over me now with a dark expression, his pupils blown out in lust.
“yeah? you missed me?” he questions, coaxing a nod of my head, “how bad?”
“so bad, Quinny.” i whine, hands grasping at his tie.
“did you touch yourself? you push your fingers into your pretty pussy? imagine they were mine as you made yourself cum in our bed?”
his words elicit a broken whimper from my throat, my eyelids fluttering as he wraps a hand around the back of my neck, forcing me to tip my head up to him.
“did you imagine my head between your thighs?” his voice drops, “my tongue licking your wet cunt? making you scream?”
my legs are shaking to close, to clench together and bring some much needed relief to my soaked core; but his body blocks me from doing so.
“yes.” i breathe out, eyes closing as he dips down to capture my lips in a bruising kiss.
his tongue slips past my parted lips, the result of a sudden gasp after his fingers curl into my hair, tugging just slightly.
the kiss is messy and deep, tongue’s tangling and pushing against each other, and when he pulls away, saliva coats my lips.
“lay back, baby.”
i drop back at his demand, hair sprawling across the soft mattress behind my head, and watch as best i can as my husband lowers back down to his knees until i can no longer see him.
it’s not but a second later that i feel his soft lips brush against my inner thigh, kissing a path up my leg. an unignorable pulse sparks between my thighs, thumping harder with each kiss, as he gets closer and closer to my wet heat.
wanton moans break the silence of the room, my body quivering with lustful anticipation; but before he can reach the spot in which i need him most, he pulls back, steadily repeating the process on the opposite leg.
a muted whine pulls from my lips as he shifts his path, bypassing my covered core and kissing up my torso. our eyes lock in a heated exchange, neither set looking away, as his open mouthed kisses reach an end, the oversized bow blocking his path.
but just when i think he’ll back away, he captures one tail of the bow between his teeth, slowly pulling back to unravel the satin knot. the glossy fabric falls off my chest, pooling around my body, revealing my bare breasts. my nipples are peaked with desire, stiffened by a mixture of lust and the cold air.
Quinn stares down at me, admiring my exposed figure, before he continues his journey, pressing wet kisses up my sternum. as he reaches my throat, he begins sucking, teeth grazing against my skin before he presses his tongue against it, pulling away to blow cool air against the spot.
shivers travel down my spine, my back arching up into him as he finally presses his lips against mine once more.
“so beautiful.” he mumbles, his hot breath fanning across my lips, swollen and indented with the mark of my teeth.
dragging himself back down to his knees, my jaw slackens as his breath hits my core.
“you’re dripping for me, baby.”
his tongue darts out, licking a slow stripe up my cunt, and my head tips back further into the mattress, my legs pulled over his shoulders as he groans.
“you really are a fucking gift.” he growls, his fingertips tightening in a bruising grip on my thighs.
my breath catches in my throat, blood rushing to my head as his tongue flattens against my clit. he wiggles it back and forth, softly playing with the bud of nerves.
my hands fly forward, tangling into the fluffy waves of hair that fall onto his forehead. as his tongue tenses, trailing down to flick into my entrance, he spreads my wetness, earning a harsh tug of his hair.
my grip coaxes a laugh of confidence from my husband, his chuckles reverberating through my core, and a screamed cry of pleasure echoes off of our bedroom walls, his name falling from my lips like a solemn prayer.
“Quinn, please,” i whimper, a single digit swiping through my wetness and making my voice falter into a high pitched moan.
“doing so well for me, baby.” his praises set my skin alight, heartbeat thumping in my throat.
his middle finger delves slowly into me, curling up into my g-spot as his lips enclose gently around my clit. pumping in, he slowly gets me ready, slipping his index finger in when he deems me lubricated enough.
my thighs close around his head, his free hand snaking his way around to push my leg open, a choked sob of arousal leaving my throat.
i can feel my orgasm creeping up on me, my stomach tying in knots as my eyes roll back.
suckling at my clit, he rolls it softly between puckered lips, his fingers alternating between hooking upwards and scissoring my cunt, slowly stretching me out and preparing me for his cock.
as his fingers speed and his tongue begins to circle and flick against my clit, my legs shake, hands gripping tighter into his hair while curses fall from my lips.
“Quinn,” tears gather along my waterline at the immense wave of pleasure that rolls through my body, “oh my god, right there!”
the tips of his fingers push against my g-spot with every thrust, my back arching as i can feel myself get closer and closer to the edge.
my husband moans, vibrations carrying through my core and spurring me over the edge. my walls tighten around his fingers, trapping them inside of me, and my hips grind against his soft lips as i reach my release.
heavy breathing sounds through the room as i lay back in ecstasy, recovering from my intense orgasm. pulling his cum coated fingers from my dripping pussy, Quinn’s lips pull away from my swollen clit with a pop.
“you taste like heaven.” he hums, coaxing my eyes to open, watching him suck his fingers clean of my release.
“Quinny,” i breathe out, hands reaching out to pull him forward by his tie as he rises from his knees, “i need you.”
“i’m right here, pretty girl.” he gruffs, a hand resting on the bed next to my head, holding himself up as he hovers above me.
he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the spot where my jawline meets my ear. trailing up until he reaches my chin, he suddenly diverts, his lips meeting mine in a gentle kiss.
our lips dance together, his free hand grazing up my body until he reaches my breasts. his thumb rubs over my stiffened nipple, circling it lightly before pinching, the stark contrast drawing a moan from deep within my throat.
i can feel his erection pressing against my upper thigh, my hips jolting up into his in order try and relieve some tension.
pushing lightly at his chest, Quinn immediately backs away, worry filling his eyes, “what’s wrong? did i do something?”
rather than answer, i sit up, beginning to untie his tie. i pull it free from his collar before my hands push at his suit jacket.
“take it off,” i whine as my hands fumble, “all of it, Quinn. i need you. i need to see you.”
his hand cups my cheek, thumb rubbing over my cheekbone as he chuckles, eyes looking into mine.
“get up on the pillows,” he gruffs, watching with fervor as i follow his command, kicking the long forgotten satin fabric off the bed and onto the floor. “good girl.”
sitting with my back propped on the pillows, i watch my husband undress; his suit jacket tossed on the dresser, his button up dropped to the floor as well as the undershirt, before finally the clink of his belt sounds through the silent room.
i admire his upper body as he undresses, mentally praising all the hard work and training that’s led to his muscular arms and tight physique. my mouth waters and i yearn to press kisses to his pale torso, but i stay rooted in my spot, knowing better than to move.
fully naked, his cock stands tall, fully erect with a pink tip, precum beading at the slit, and i don’t think before my hand reaches out, wrapping around his length as he crawls over me.
i squeeze just slightly, my thumb running over his tip and spreading the precum, earning a hiss of satisfaction from my husband.
“stop,” he groans, vocal chords tight, “you want me to fuck you, right?”
i peer up at him with innocence, nodding my head quickly.
“then don’t be a greedy little slut,” my hand drops at his words, allowing him to take a deep breath, “hands and knees, baby.”
i scramble into position, craning my neck to watch his facial expressions as he grabs his base, guiding his cock through the lubricant of my residual cum.
my body shivers as he glides himself through my slick folds, wetting his dick thoroughly. he slides over clit, my legs instantly wobbling as i make a silent squeak.
“Quinn,” my voice shakes, but before i can continue, he’s pushing into me, my back contorting as he runs a hand over my spine.
“that’s it, baby,” he coos after i let out a loud moan, “take it like a good girl.”
i reach back with one hand, desperately grappling behind me for his touch. my request is granted when he grabs my hand, holding it in earnest as his other holds my hip.
“fuck me,” i cry, pushing backwards to sheath him entirely inside of me, “please, i need you to fuck me.”
Quinn clicks his tongue against his teeth, my head hanging forward as he stills, teasing me. i part my lips to begin begging again, but he silences me quick, pulling entirely out before slamming back into me.
he drops my hand in favor of gripping both hips, fucking into me with harsh and unforgiving thrusts.
my arms feel like jello beneath me, quivering with every graze of his tip against my g-spot, until finally i fall to my elbows.
his thighs smack against mine, each thrust pushing me further up the bed until i have to place my palms on the headboard, keeping me steady as my knees dig into the memory foam mattress.
“so fucking wet,” he grunts, pulling my focus to the lewd sounds of his cock sliding through my wetness, “my pretty fucking wife, so ready for me; so easy to please.”
i whine at the use of ‘wife’, the title still bringing goosebumps to the top of my flesh.
“yours,” i gasp, eyes rolling back as he slows his strokes, angling his hips for his cock to run over my g-spot, “all yours. your wife.”
“yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he breathes, “you like being my wife? you like letting me fuck you and call you mine? forever.”
his hand slides to my front, sprawling over my stomach before dipping down to let his finger apply pressure to my pulsing clit.
“yes!” i squeal, hips jerking from the pleasure, “yes, Quinn, yes!”
his finger draws circles on my clit, thrusts speeding as i clench around him.
“who am i?”
my stomach fills with pressure, toes curling as my hair falls into my face.
“my husband!” i scream, legs shaking underneath me.
his finger never relents, my overworked clit tingling, and i can barely stutter out that i’m close before he’s leaning forward, pressing kisses to my sweat coated back.
his soft lips against my heated skin send me over the edge, my eyes drawing shut as i let out an intense breathy moan. my walls clench but his thrusts never ease, only fucking into me with more intensity as he chases his own high, and within a minute, he finds it.
his hips falter, his grip tightening on my hips as he lets out a strangled cry, ropes of cum spilling out of him and mingling with my own.
it’s silent as he stops, nothing but heavy pants and the squelching sound of him pulling out, before he lays down, finally allowing me to drop onto my stomach beside him.
a breathy chuckle leaves his lips, my face buried into the pillow beside him, and he reaches over to scoop me into his arms, helping turn my body until my head is resting in the crook of his neck.
“what a welcome home present.” he laughs, still out of breath, and i giggle into his neck.
“figured you might like that.” i yawn, eyes fluttering shut as i rest a hand on his chest, “well worth staying up.”
“hey,” he coos, head back away in order to look at me. i pry my eyes open, staring up into his, “don’t go falling asleep yet, baby. you need a bath.”
i groan, attempting to burrow further into him, “but i’m so tired.”
he rolls his eyes at my drawn out whine, gently nudging me off of him so he can stand up.
“i’m gonna go draw a bath and get some wine. you don’t fall asleep.”
i nod sleepily, pulling myself up in a sitting position to keep myself from dozing off.
it’s not but five minutes later that Quinn returns, helping me into his arms and carrying me into the bathroom. he sets me down into the hot water of the bubble bath, grabbing the wine glasses off the counter and handing them to me before he slips in behind me, taking his glass back.
having out a deep sigh, i relax into his chest, his free arm wrapping around the front of my waist.
“so,” i start, making him laugh at my tired tone, “how was the trip?”
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yoonkles · 4 months
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he’s the type to (hyung line ver.) ..
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genre: headcanons, fluff. gender neutral reader.
warnings: none :)
authors note: first x-reader fic on this blog and ofc it’s ateez. my sweethearts !! requests open- just read my pinned beforehand :)
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— hongjoong !
... to always give you a kiss before leaving.
always before you part from each other. rushing from room to room searching for his wallet, late to practice he says, making a mess he’ll deeply apologize for later. haphazardly throwing on a coat and tying his shoes while you watch in amusement from the couch. stuttering through goodbyes as he reaches for the doorknob, only to full body freeze, and turn on his heel. and then he’ll be hovering over you, eyes glazed over, and a grin on his lips. “what, you didn’t think i’d leave without a kiss, did you?” he’ll tease in a breathless tone and your heart will skip a beat. soft pink lips will lean in as your eyes flutter close, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. it’s a familiar warmth, one your all too used to. a move hongjoong had picked up after walking you to your doorstep at the end of your first date. a move he had yet to drop, never leaving your side without a sweet press of his lips against your warm skin first.
— seonghwa !
... to plan the dates.
always being able to count on him for a night out. planning down to the exact time, making reservations weeks beforehand, always a bright smile on his face as he adds a date to your shared calendar. it never seems to fall repetitive, either. from expensive dinner dates where you get all dressed up, to late nights in with a movie and popcorn days later. lego dates, where you both spend hours hunched over a messy table concentrating in comfortable silence. or even the time he had carved out a hole in his schedule, an entire day just for you, where you had driven hours out to a field overlooking the city. a packed picnic in the trunk, a blanket, and seonghwa staring with sparkles in his eyes as you awe at the scenery. “nowhere near as beautiful as you,” he’ll whisper with a lovesick tilt of his lips. you don’t think you had ever felt so loved than that night, wrapped in his arms and overlooking a setting sun and a lively city.
— yunho !
... to movie marathon with you.
stacks of movies and old dvds fished from attic storage displayed on your coffee table constantly. a bubbly yunho practically prancing back and forth with excitement, dressed up in silk pyjamas that match your own. the smell of popcorn seems to have embedded itself in your apartment from the hundreds of bags you go through a year, stronger now that another one is heating up over the stovetop. the man in front of you points at a large stack of christmas hallmark movies when you ask for a suggestion. you don’t remark on the fact it’s currently the middle of june, or how all of those movies were in english, not when yunho is looking at you with the brightest grin you’ve ever seen. “you’re my favorite way to unwind,” he’ll sleepily whisper hours later, hand running up and down your spine. and you exhale, heart warming, as you whisper back to him the same sentiment.
— yeosang !
... to hold your pinky.
soft laughs and lovesick smiles that make you feel like you're both back in high school again. he's always so touchy with you in such subtle, loving ways. a hand at the small of your back as he directs you through a crowd. the brush of his thigh against yours at the dinner table. soft, warm lips brushing against the skin of your cheek every time he leaves your side. but the one gesture that he seems to treasures above all else is the way his pinky wraps around yours. “it’s like a promise,” he whisper to you every time you ask about it, a pretty smile on his lips and intimacy laced throughout his gaze. a promise to keep you in his life, to follow you wherever you happen to lead him. a promise to never let you slip from his touch. you were a jewel to precious to him- he doesn't dream of letting go, ever. not when your pinky fits so right wrapped around his.
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luvnami · 6 months
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𝐬𝐮𝐧.
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - written for gn!reader/tav, and for myself, who needs the comfort. this was written in one seating and not proofread, so please forgive any mistakes or irregularities lol
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 660
・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ・ ゜・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ・ ゜・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ・ ゜・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ・
“sweetheart?”
astarion’s voice and a knock at the door makes you freeze.
“are you alright?”
tears trickle down your cheeks. damp spots darken the inn’s worn bedlinen, and you struggle to find your voice amidst a congested nose and tight throat. your knuckles curl around the blanket that you’ve thrown over your head. grey clouds creep across the horizon, foreboding a downpour at any second. 
“i- ah-”
in an attempt to clear your nostrils, you sniffle and snort back thick mucus. it hits the back of your throat and you go into a coughing fit. astarion shifts his weight uneasily behind the door, hand hovering over the doorknob. 
“can i come in?” 
he speaks softly; warily. 
“yes. please.”
your words come out like a plead. the door squeaks on its hinges as astarion pushes it open to your room. you see nothing but bleak rays of candlelight that creep through the threadbare blanket, yet you know the vampire approaches you judging from the quiet shuffle of his feet across the wooden floorboards. 
“whatever is the matter?” 
the edge of your bed sinks down under his weight. your teeth dig into your lower lip, heart beating against your chest. somehow, you’re embarrassed to show astarion your face (and more than that, perhaps. all of the reasons that had caused your poor heart to shatter into pieces leave your mind in an instant and you feel silly – a fool, for crying over an assortment of nonsensical reasons). astarion’s hand rests on your shoulder, even as you lay curled up with your back to him. 
maybe he would take you for a child. immature: one who knows nothing of the world but flowers that bend to a spring wind’s will and gentle, foamy waves that kiss sandy shores. you imagine astarion might even be upset. perhaps you should have told him something was wrong earlier, or he would get frustrated that you were crying in your crib like a newborn babe. 
your mind swims with a hundred tales to excuse your tears, but before you can utter a single word, you feel astarion’s warmth press against your back and his arms wrap around you. 
“you don’t have to say anything, my dear. cry all you need.”
fresh tears rise to your eyes and you instinctively clam a hand over your mouth, stifling the sobs that make your shoulders tremble. 
“i will be here – with you, for you.”
the coil in your chest relaxes. astarion holds you close as you shatter apart once again.
.
at some point, you turn over in bed and peel back the covers. your eyes meet. yet, astarion’s gaze does not change from one of love to that of disgust, of frustration. his thumb gently wipes away a last tear that clings to the inner corner of your eye. your eyelid flickers shut in response, and you sniffle once more. 
“i’m sorry,” you choke out. 
“for what?” he replies, almost incredulously. 
astarion seems puzzled. your bottom lip quivers as you rest your head on his chest, still encased in your blanket cocoon from the shoulders down. 
“i got snot on your shirt.”
he pauses. then astarion lets out a soft huff of amusement, hand finally coming to rest on your lower back. 
“why would you ever apologise for that?”
he leans forward and presses a kiss between your brow. before you can reply with a halfhearted ‘i don’t know’, astarion rests his head in the curve between your neck and shoulder. his curls tickle your cheek, but you stop him. 
“i have all of eternity. so please take your time, my love. all of mine is yours.”
astarion’s warmth feels like that of the sun meeting the earth, glowing rays spilling across the cusp of the land. you stand barefooted in the plains of faerûn. as grass blades tickle your ankles and birds leave their nest to cry the morning forth, the astarion offers you his hand. 
you take it.
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chronicowboy · 1 year
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When Connor finally comes over to the loft, Buck can only think thank god.
Its not that he doesn't like Kameron, he actually really enjoys her company. She's funny and bubbly and enjoys learning whatever new facts he'd found on Wikipedia that day and she has killer commentary for shitty reality TV.
Its not even the whole pregnant thing. He laughs when she balances her plate on her belly and he always braves her adventures in craving combinations even if it ends with him gagging and swearing never to eat tuna or jelly ever again - sidenote: chips and whipped cream is a new go-to snack.
He's just fed up of feeling like a perpetual roommate in his own apartment yet again. And his couch fucking sucks.
Also, like, its great that Connor and Kameron are starting to talk things through.
But his couch sucks.
So, when Connor comes over looking sheepish and apologetic, Buck welcomes him in with a smile. Kameron... not so much.
"I'm... gonna head upstairs," Buck mumbles into the awkward silence of the kitchen, "and get into my running gear." He nods once before fleeing up to his bedroom.
Buck dives for his headphones when their hushed voices start hissing at each other, connecting them up to his phone with fast hands and blasting his workout playlist as loud as he can bear. He strips efficiently, pulling on a pair of shorts and a tank top in the bathroom when the voices get louder. Then he's rushing downstairs and grabbing his sneakers, wondering if it would be wise to run all the way to Eddie's house.
His hand is an inch away from the doorknob when Connor stops him. With a silent sigh, Buck pops a headphone out and turns to face the scene in front of him.
Kameron is leaning on the kitchen island, palms flat against the marble, fingers curled under her hands, head hung low. Connor is wide-eyed and pleading, his grip on Buck's wrist tight and unyielding as he keeps him fixed to his spot.
"Buck, tell me you could raise a kid that wasn't yours," he begs, something frantic to his voice. Buck thinks he recognises the fear in Connor's eyes, thinks it looks a lot like Chimney haunting the loft weeks after Hen and Eddie had returned home. Not a fear of covid or DNA, but a fear of fatherhood cloaked in a thousand defences. "Tell me that it wouldn't bug you every single day."
Buck blinks. He opens his mouth, but something thick and cloying crawls up his throat and stops the words from coming out.
He sees flashes. Too-long curls and crutches and glasses. Nights spent huddled on a couch in front of the same shitty kid's film that Buck would happily watch a hundred times over, days spent hunched over worksheets at the dining table, mornings heavy with sleep but light with joy. Trips to the zoo, visits to the aquarium, tours of the observatory. Nightmares and tears and a run away on his doorstep. Sodden clothes and clasped hands and such visceral fear that Buck had thought he was dying. Saying no to one last game, mixing veggies into the sauce, putting his foot down on screen time. A bag full of pharmacy supplies and the tiles of the bathroom floor cold under him and growing pains Buck feels in his old bones.
"It wouldn't," Buck croaks, it feels a lot like a confession. "My captain has been more of a dad to me than my father ever was." Buck shakes his head, shrugs. "Its not about DNA, Connor, its about love."
"But." Connor's chest heaves with panicked breaths. "So, you'd do it? You'd raise another man's kid?"
Buck recognises the fear again, but this time its his own. Connor is feeling the same fear that had Buck staggering through the ravaged streets of Los Angeles. The same fear that had Buck withdrawing, trying to chase Eddie and Christopher out of the door with a list of all his sins. The same fear that had Buck reminding Eddie of Christopher's biological family. The fear Buck feels every time he has to say goodbye to Chris.
Its then that Buck's phone buzzes. He glances down at the new notification. A picture of Eddie scowling down at a cookbook captioned uh oh - backup needed ASAP.
"Oh," Buck breathes down at the screen.
All the flashes suddenly comes together, one beautiful mosaic of parental devotion.
Buck remembers the way Chimney's dad's words had lodged something sharp and painful into his chest, remembers wondering why. He remembers a quiet conversation on opposite sides of a hospital bed, remembers wondering why me. He remembers scribbling hearts together for an assignment, remembers its his turn to save you. He remembers wondering if he could be a donor not dad and Eddie asking if he knew any of Christopher's secrets.
"Buck?" Connor prompts.
"I'd do it," Buck says, only looking up from his phone when it fades to black. When he says it, it sounds a lot like you know I wouldn't. "Because... even though that kid might not be my blood, he'd still be mine," here, his voice cracks right down the middle. "I'm sorry, I have to go."
"What? Buck!"
"Sorry." Buck yanks the door open and looks over his shoulder with an apologetic shrug. "My kid needs me."
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cakechako · 11 months
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you could say I’m a big kniveswood connoisseur
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scwheeler · 1 year
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♟˖ ࣪⊹ — ‘I KNOW IT WON’T WORK’
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pairing: ethan landry x reader
summary: your boyfriend had become distant suddenly but confronting him about it only makes it worse
author’s note: inspired by gracie abrams’ “I know it won’t work” I LOVE THIS SONG AND GRACIE (lyrics will be in orange for reading & red for ethan !!) also you can send in requests and ideas!! #ANGST #SLIGHTSPOILERS
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you looked over two seats at ethan who was quickly jotting something down in his notebook. it was a different color than his actual econ notebook and the lecture hadn’t even started yet so you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.
but the loud slam of the classroom door shutting snapped you out of your trance. your teacher begun the class and you watched ethan shove the notebook in his backpack through the corner of your eye. however, you completely shrugged it off once the teacher started speaking.
sitting by your friends at the park was finally a peaceful event with all the stormy clouds and rain disappearing. it seemed there were only clear skies and chirping birds around until you faced ethan.
he avoided eye contact and tried to look elsewhere. anywhere. aren’t boyfriends supposed to want to look at their girlfriends? you even reached for his hand once but after he attempted to ‘discreetly’ move his away, you gave up. for a studious little student, he really couldn’t tell how distant he became.
at first you thought it was all in your head. maybe it was the stress building up from your upcoming finals or because of the mysterious murders surrounding your neighborhood. yet your fears were confirmed when even your friends brought it up.
even chad for gods sake!
only a couple of days ago, the friend group was laughing and chattering like a bunch of middle schoolers. you guys were loud enough to be heard from miles away but there was an awkward tension once ethan started to shy away from you.
where was the sweet boy who waited in front of your dorm room for a whole hour before finally knocking and asking you out?
where was your boyfriend who would not let go of your hand while walking around parties? who followed you everywhere that some people even asked if you had a stalker!
where was the boy who messaged tara and mindy a million times about what flowers you like so you would be happy on valentine’s day!?
that boy was obviously not present because your door remained silent. no doorbells or late night knocks for a last minute sleepover.
your hands stayed untouched. the only time he almost reached for it was when he put his hands down to help him getting up and leaving.
you went to parties alone now and instead of sitting on the couch just whispering and gossiping with ethan, you sat on the stairs and waited for mindy and anika to say one of them were too wasted to party anymore.
so after finally mustering up the courage, you marched to his dorm room and knocked on the door. first chad opened the door with a little confused face, “yes?” you ignored him and invited yourself in like a hundred times you’ve done before.
“is ethan here?” you asked and took a look around the dorm. chad shut the door behind you and walked towards you, “yeah he’s in his room, are you gonna talk to him?”
you immediately looked up at him, “oh god did mindy tell you too!?” you groaned and felt like you sunk in a batch of concrete. chad let out a shy laugh, “well we’re worried about you guys, i mean you’re the SECOND best looking couple on campus.”
you lifted an eyebrow and questioned him, “and who’s the first?” “obviously me and tara,” chad answered and went to go sit on the couch. you rolled your eyes at his hubris and approached ethan’s room.
but before, you knocked.
“yes, come in,” you heard ethan say from inside and you carefully turned the bedroom doorknob. “chad if you need help in eco—” ethan turned in his spinning desk chair that you got him last year since you knew he can’t focus with moving around.
he stopped himself at the sight of you and wished he locked the door. “oh y/n. what are you doing here?” he calmly asked as if he didn’t ditch you for the last couple of weeks. you scoffed at his ignorance and shut the door to avoid any eavesdropping from chad.
ethan stayed in his chair and watched you take a seat on his nicely tidy bed. there was an immediate silence that suffocated the room before you decided to speak up first.
your words completely shattered the glass surface evident in the room, “do you still love me?” ethan looked up from ground and met your eyes for the first time in weeks.
“w-what do you mean?!” ethan exclaimed and seemed to be taken aback. “what do i mean?” you repeated. “i mean do you still love me? because you’ve been avoiding me like i’m the fucking black plague! you run away from me as if we’re literally not boyfriend and girlfriend!” you spilled out your emotions onto your so-called boyfriend.
your hand gestures were flying everywhere and all the suppressed feelings of anger and sadness came out. “so please just answer the goddamn question. please,” you pleaded for just one answer.
“y/n, i do love you. i truly do and i have but i just don’t think i can handle a relationship right now. it’s all just too much and with…econ—i can’t balance it,” ethan rambled and lied through his teeth, blaming his avoidance on fucking econ as if you weren’t in the same class.
he wasn’t hearing you out and was just piling excuses on top of excuses. you were sick of it. you wanted to have a civil conversation with him, talk it out like adults or in those cheesy romcoms where the couple makes up in the span of three minutes and a really extravagant song or romantic montage.
you could feel tears approaching the rum of your eyes but held them back with only a few managing to escape into your cheeks. “ethan, part of me wants to walk away 'til you really listen because i hate to look at your face and know that we're feeling different,” you were the one avoiding his eyes now. those big brown eyes of his that made you melt like ice cream on a hot summer day.
you wiped the few tears off your face and tried to remain calm. unknown to you though was ethan’s perspective. he wanted to get up and hug you, hold you and say he was sorry. he wanted to bring a dozen roses to your doorstep every night until you forgave him.
he held back his tears and looked up at your teary-eyed face. he thought to himself, ‘cause part of me wants you back, but i know it won't work like that, huh? why won't you try moving on for once? that might make it easy’ so he looked out the window and muttered, “let’s just break up.”
you bit your lip at the bitter words spit out by the boy you loved with all your heart and continued to even after this moment. you couldn’t even bring yourself to respond and opened the door to escape the suddenly stuffy room.
you ran out of the dorm room, ignoring chad’s questions and words from behind you. you didn’t stop running and hoped the cold air would dry your tears before you friends could see.
out of nowhere, the skies turned grey and for the first time in weeks, there a trickle of rain. even though the distance from your apartments was less than a few minutes, it felt like forever. it started pouring and your clothes were drenched.
you thought about how stupid you were and regretted ever stepping front in his dorm room to begin with. you sat on the stairs in front of your apartment, crying and trying to catch your breath. you could barely keep your eyes open with the rain and your tears drowning you. outside it was dark and you were all alone. except you weren’t.
ethan watched you from his room. his heart ached for you and your tears and he had to restrain himself from running down to you. he clenched his jaw and breathed through his teeth as he watched you slowly get swallowed by the darkness and rain.
i know we cut all the ties but you're never really leaving and part of me wants you back, but i know it won't work like that.
brrring! brrring!
ethan turns his attention to his phone and honestly hopes it to be you but his hopes falter as he sees the number and picks up the phone. “is it all taken care of?” a voice spoke on the other line.
“yes, she’s out of the picture so we are not going to hurt her.”
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itneverendshere · 5 days
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my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue
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just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺
warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him
you did it without thinking.
it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, each step echoing the racing of your heart. you didn’t dare to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble under the weight of your memories with him rushing back. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.
rafe.
the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you. 
this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.
you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.  
but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.
except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again. 
your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?
and if he isn’t?
there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already. 
you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.
you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.
holy fuck.
your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.
what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago. 
for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.  
should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.
“i can hear you breathing.”
panic sets in. 
summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there. 
you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”
his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones. 
“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”
you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?
“i didn’t run?”
his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”
the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?
“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“
“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.
you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough. 
“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”
his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.
“hey, sweetheart, this is me.”  his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”
but he’s not your rafe anymore.
that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him. 
a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.
"yeah..."
rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”
if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.
you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view. 
you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.
"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“
rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal. 
"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”
“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“
his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”
tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."
“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.
“it was! i’m a shitty person.”
his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”
“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”
the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.
he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.
you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.” 
rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”
without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.
“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”
“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”
you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.
“i have a date.”
a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations. 
rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”
but you only sob harder.
"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”
but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe. 
"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”
but you are. at you. at him.
the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.
you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.
"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"
it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.
rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”
“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”
his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.
"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed. 
you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.
"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."
but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.
"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."
you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them. 
it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing. 
“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”
it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.
and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.
“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”
for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say. 
and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.
“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”
his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.
“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”
“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”
and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.
and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more. 
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danytar · 8 days
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“Always” [ Prince!Aegon X Wife!Reader ]
Warnings: expletives, cussing, Unfaithful aegon,fondle breasts,vulgarity,sex,(m receiving), dark aegon,hedonistic, sm jealous ").
Summary: Your loving husband returns to your room in the middle of the night after his exciting adventures in the pleasure houses.
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It is known that your husband had a bad reputation in the court even your marriage to him did not prevent him from continuing his bad hobbies It wasn't a very terrible marriage but also not that perfect.
You and your husband have learned to understand each other he was so kind and sweet to you and when it comes to sex he's an expert and never leave you unsatisfied.
But there was a problem.. your jealousy and your possession you wanted him all for yourself something he didn't know and you didn't show. At first It was okay and you didn't have a problem with his actions because no matter how many women he sleeps with, he will always come back to you. he loved you but this was not enough to stop him.
Even though he told you hundreds of times that he loves you and all those whores mean nothing to him, you still insist that he does not love you.. that you was not enough for him.
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It was almost the midnight and you were in your chambers lying on your bed with a book in your hands reading in peace the air was cold and the room was a bit dark just the light of candles that are about to go out a little things made your day.
Your soft air was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom doorknob being turned. and there he was as usual a drunk and barely able to walk his clothes were dirty his silver locks were disheveled he smell reeked of sweat and cheap wine, not to mention the women ofc..
“you still awake? Were you waiting for me, my sweet love?”. He barely uttered his words he dragged himself towards your bed.
You put your book aside and sighed in frustration you looked at him with a disappointed look and a slight frown on your lips. “The brothel again?”.
He looked sheepish, his cheeks reddening, but he didn't seem all that remorseful. though, he had the sense to look away from you, his silence confirming that it was, indeed once again the brothel.
“Don't you feel ashamed of your actions? ”. You spoke to him in a serious tone this time because you were really fed up with his actions he was standing close to your bed but he looked at you and then said in a drunken tone:
“Why should I be ashamed? I did nothing wrong...” He laughed, but it was a nervous, shaky laugh.You could just hear him sigh through the silence following his reply.“I-” He pauses “It doesn't mean I dont love you-” He coughs, wiping the wine stained lips on his robes sleeve. “I cant help it... I just-”
“You have made us the laughing stock of the court”. you replied with a heavy sigh. He shrugs slightly, he's never had a problem with being laughed at before, he simply drank that feeling away too. “It doesnt matter... People laugh behind our backs anyway”.
He looks at you through heavy-ish eyes. He doesnt look at you like you are a mother scolding him, he looks at you like he is a boy getting rejected for the first time. It's a pathetic look, but he cant hold eye contact long enough for either of you to comment on it.
“Why are you here aegon? ”.
“What do you mean? Im here because I-” He sighs, his hands gripping the sheets as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Because I’m your husband!..”
“My husband changes his whores more than his clothes.”
He chuckles at that, finding your bluntness slightly humorous, not to mention it made him feel like he wasn't in such a hard spot. “...Thats not true”. He says, hoping you'll let it go at that.
When he tries to touch you, you move your hands away from him “Don't touch me or something”. you replied In a firm, almost broken voice.
He is visibly hurt by the rejection, but is too exhausted to even show the emotion to its fullest, he only slightly grimaced when you moved your hands away. He tries again, but doesnt say anything, begging you silently to forgive him for once or at least humour a kiss or something.
“You didn't even try to wash yourself off that shit.”
He sighs. “I...” He rubs his eyes, too tired to even say anything. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. It was like he knew he was too dirty to even deserve a kiss, and yet his desire and desperation to be loved overpowered that.
You quickly grab your book and ignore his presence. Aegon sighs, he didnt want to be ignored, even in the state he was in. “Darling...” He tried to reach for the book, wanting to gain your attention when you didn't answer him, he placed his head on your shoulder and looked at the page you were reading.
He groans slightly, wanting to at least get your attention.“I missed you y/n ” He sighs “Im tired and drunk and-” He pauses as if searching for the right answer, settling on the most honest one. “Lonely”.
“Why didn’t you bring your whores with you? Maybe they would fill your loneliness.” after your comment he feels himself boil, the rage boiling inside him. “Oh come on, its not the same, and you know it! Theyre not you, and they dont fill the void either, you know that...”
“Don't fool me aegon-” You push the sheets off and get out of bed when he saw you doing that he growls “Damn it, you know what Im talking about!”.
He is too tired to properly have this argument and he was trying desperately to get you to understand him. The silence was getting to him and he was starting to get angry and frustrated because he felt himself not being understood. “All I wanted was your company, and the first thing you ask me is about some brothel?!”
“I'm tired of your behavior! you're.... you're...” You paused for a moment to find the right word.
“I’m what?" He snaps, the anger finally boiling out of him. “What am I? Tell me!”
“A WHORE ”.
He scowls, the words stinging him like fire. "Shut your mouth!" He tries to sit up, but the alcohol makes him dizzy as he falls back. "Youre as much of a whore as I am, you know that right?!". He approaches you and grabs your arm tightly Even if he was a drunk, he is still stronger than you.
“You dare talk back to me! maybe I should put you in your place again wife”. He growled into your ear when you try to look at him he slaps you hard. You are surprised by the sudden slap. This is the first time he has raised his hand on you like that.
You do not let the slap go unnoticed, but return it to him harder which causes him to stumble backwards. He growls in pain when you returned his slap with a greater amount of force, his jaw slightly dropping with surprise.
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He takes a step backwards, but only because of the sharp pain that shoots across his cheek. He rubs his cheek for a bit, trying to soothe the sting. His eyes turn to you again, and you can still see the anger in his eyes. This was new.
His hand moves from your arm to your face and he grabs your cheek, his thumb feeling over the spot where he had struck you.
He narrows his eyes as he watches you, his thumb rubbing the mark he had left there. He is still filled with the rage of jealousy and bitterness, but he is also filled with sadness. He leans down, bringing his face only an inch from yours.
When you tried to evade his grip, he held you in place and pressed his lips firmly on yours, whether you liked it or not. The suddenness of his action caused you to stiffen, and in the moment of stiffness, you didnt immediately respond to his kiss.
He could feel every tensed muscle in your body and he relished in the feeling. It was as if you had been a puppet for him to control like they way he wanted to. It was a feeling of pure power, and he loved it.
He was still holding your face, keeping you in place when he wrapped his hands around your wrists, he gently guided them to his neck, wanting you to feel the power he had over you. He pressed his mouth on yours again, pushing his body into yours as his grip on you tightened.
He was feeling completely overwhelmed with power as he started to rip into your dresses. It felt good to finally show you who was truly in-charge. It wasnt your body nor your choice. It was his. He owned you. He tore off your dress, before taking you roughly to the bed.
He began to forcefully remove his clothes as he said “I know what my greedy wife wants.. she wants my cock only for herself ”.
“You know what I want, so why do you keep giving my rights to other women?”. He laughed and lay on top of you "I like to make you jealous." He said before he started nibbling and sucking your neck to your thighs.
"They're nothing...nothing like my wife's sweet pussy”. You mumbled and parted your legs he placed wet kisses on your thighs, reaching your sweet spot which he loves the most.Your breath hitched when you felt his tongue on you.
You tangled your fingers in his hair and let him give you his services. Even if he is clumsy and makes you angry, he has his own ways of making you feel good.
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After several rounds, you felt a terrible pain between your legs maybe the most Sweetest pain you have ever felt. Your head was on his chest while his arms were gently caressing your ass.
It was a moment of bliss and calm between the two of you.You were listening to his heartbeat and feeling his chest rising and falling slowly. He broke the silence by saying: “I will never see them again.”
“What? ”. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him. He gently stroked your cheek with his other hand and looked at you “The pleasure houses.. I won't go again, I promise.. I realized how foolish I was.. I love you I don't want to lose you for the sake of random whores ”.
you looks at him with all the love you have.. “I love you too aegon”. He lifted his head to place a small kiss on your lips.
“Will you love me always? ”
“Always my love”.
He smilies.. “Can I pass out now?”. you chuckled and nodded he immediately closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep. You kept your head on his chest, your fingers drawing random circles on it. You stayed like that for a short while until you passed out with him..
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♡ – 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @darylandbethfanforever9 @hisfavegiri @callsignwidow @xitsemm @saltytidalwavetyphoon @khaleesihel @credulouskhaleesi @lovelykhaleesiii
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melancholymetropolis · 8 months
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The Summoning
plot: Reader is freshly separated from her shitty ex and buys a new house in the middle of nowhere.
pairings: TraditionalVampire!Miguel O'Hara x Reader
genre(s): Soulmate AU; Forced Proximity; Hurt with Comfort
warnings: unedited. mentions of DV and abuse. LARGE AGE GAP (Miguel is almost 300 years old). creepy basement. reader is very reserved, but not really shy. miguel falls first and HARD. mind reading. declarations of love every five minutes. miguel is an absolute simp for this woman. PIV SEX. BLOOD DRINKING. pet names (darling, sweetheart, mi amor, etc.) praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds.
a/n: there is over 4k words of smut in this. you're welcome.
w.c: 7.5k
Something had drawn me to the basement. The broker told me that it was completely bare and covered in cement. There was nothing to see or storage yet— since I just officially moved in last week. But my body kept pulling through the Victorian manor anyway. I descended the grand staircase, into the kitchen, and right to the back door. The basement had been directly adjacent to it. A tingling sensation coursed through me as I turned the doorknob and inched down the stairs. My nerves were buzzing and my head was going fuzzy. I could almost hear a voice crawling through my mind. It scoured the vast plane before meeting my subconscious. Despite the intrusive nature of the presence, I was not threatened by it. For some reason, my body did the exact opposite: I welcomed it. As I walked through the pitch-black basement, I allowed the foreign spirit to enter my mind.
Come to me, gentle creature.
In the far edge of the dark abyss, a candle flickered on. It was followed by another and another. One by one candles started to light throughout the room. Warm light started to gradually fill the space around me. They formed a perfect ring around me. My eyes drifted to the ground and widened at the sight. Words scribbled in yellow chalk were written underneath my feet. I captured words like “sanguis”, “potator”, “monstrum”, and “daemonium”. It was times like this that I wished I took Latin more seriously in High School. I would be able to beautifully translate the foreign tongue below me. I narrowed my eyes and continued to search the scribbles on the floor. There had to be something I recognized, some word in English that didn’t stray far from its Latin roots. 
Suddenly, another candle flickered to life; following the same pattern as earlier. But, instead of following a circle pattern, it created a path to the other side of the room. The low light exposed more Latin words written in chalk on the floor. The loopy handwriting was almost decorative with how it graced the floor. Some sentences seemed never-ending. They covered the floors entirely; my eyes didn’t know where to look. I scanned the scattered lettering frantically, trying to piece together anything that could tell me what the hell was going on. 
About thirty feet away from me, the thick path of candles split into two. It started to form another shape— it was a rectangle. Just outside the shape, my eyes picked up a word written in bright red. I didn’t need translation to understand what it meant, as its meaning was universal. 
VAMPYRUS
The entire basement was encased in the warm light of hundreds of candles. The entire room was covered in Latin scribbling and horrific drawings. There were images of a massive figure with great fangs. He was drawn with bright red eyes and a disgusting scowl. His nails had been massive and strong. There had been claw marks embedded into the cement walls. Dried spatters of blood dripped near them. I could feel my heart begin to pound in my chest as my breathing increased. Panic coursed through me as I took several shaky steps backward. Then it finally hit me. The rectangular shape was not a decorative choice. The candles had been surrounding something I almost didn’t recognize: a casket. 
Don’t be afraid, tender beauty. I am no harm to you.
Before I could even acknowledge the voice ringing in my mind, the lid of the casket started to slide open. Inch by inch it moved from the inside as subtle movement sounded from within the space. My mind was racing, desperately trying to piece together how I could get out of the situation. From the copious amounts of pop culture that I had consumed, I knew that vampires were vulnerable to silver of any kind and fire. Yet, the only silver thing I had to my name was a crucifix my grandmother gave me for my 15th birthday. There had been no signs of any wood near me, meaning I couldn’t make a stake even if I knew how. The candle’s fire was too weak to create any damage and to form a lasting flame. 
I was simply stuck. 
The casket’s lid fell to the ground with a loud thud. A massive body began to rise from within the space. A broad chest was covered in a pristine white dress shirt, which seemed to glow in the low light. That was the only thing I caught a glimpse of before the vampire’s body came racing toward me. I didn’t even have time to scream. His hands were on my body before I could blink. They gripped my waist tightly, before pulling me into a tight embrace. My head rested comfortably at the top of his abdomen, while my arms lay limp at my sides. The vampire had been at least a foot taller than me and I was no small girl. I was roughly 5ft10, definitely taller than the average woman in town. The creature’s size and gentleness had been a peculiar combination. It was something I wasn’t expecting. 
“So. . . you’re not gonna kill me?” I asked awkwardly.
“Of course not,” he stated, pulling away from the embrace a bit. His deep brown eyes glimmered in the low light. “I believe I told you I wouldn’t, mi amor.” 
His voice was smooth and thick. There was a hint of an accent there as well. On any other occasion, I would've found the man insanely attractive. He had strong features: deep-set brown eyes, a strong straight nose, and prominent cheekbones. The vampire’s thick black curls were combed back, highlighting his perfectly shaped eyebrows. His warm skin tone laid the pale-skinned vampire myth out to dry. The monster before looked graciously kissed by the sun as did I. In this low light, it seemed like we have the same complexion. That little fact gave me some kind of solace. 
I would much rather be in a ring of candles with a BIPOC vampire, than a grumpy white one.
I slipped out of the arms of the swooning vampire and created some space between our trembling bodies. "Can we. . . uh. . . talk?"
"Yes, I would love that," he replied with a firm nob. 
On the outside, his emotions seemed completely unreadable. He looked every bit like a big, scary vampire from the past. However, something within me told me otherwise. The familiar fuzzy feeling from before was coursing through me. Waves of curiosity, adoration and. . . relief washed over me. Everything within me told me that he was waiting for this very moment for a long time. That the vampire had waited a significant time to meet and embrace me. He wanted nothing more than to be in close proximity to me for an eternity.
"Could we maybe not have this conversation in a creepy, witchy basement?" I suggested, hesitantly.
"Anything for you."
Before I could utter another word, the massive vamp placed one arm underneath my knees and another against my shoulder blades. In one fell swoop, he lifted me off the ground and started walking to the stairs. 
"Wait! The candles—"
Just as they lit themselves up, they sizzled out. 
The vampire took careful steps out of the basement. He held me firmly against his body as he slowly climbed up the stairs and walked through the corridor. His eyes drifted along the walls, taking in the home's decor. He nodded at the forest-green walls and mused at the gold accents. Upon entering the living room, the vampire’s eyes flickered to the window. He took in the full moon in the sky, allowing the milky light to coat his skin. 
After about thirty seconds, the vampire remembered where he was and placed me on a nearby couch. He took a seat in the spot next to me and remained silent. Almost like he was waiting for further instruction.
I nervously turned away from his fiery gaze and cleared my throat. The tension between us had already been so intense and we just met. It was so hard to focus when something so attractive was close to me.
Breathe, little dove. There's no need to rush anything. We have an eternity together.
"That! How do you do that?" I blurted. "How can I hear your voice in my mind?"
"Because we are fated to be together," he replied simply. 
"You're gonna have to give me more than that, vamps," I chided, crossing my arms over my chest. "Let's start with your name. Who are you? Why were you in my basement?"
"My name is Miguel O'Hara," he started. "I was born in 1723 in Mexico. My mother was Mexican and my father was Irish— their love was the purest thing I had ever seen. It wasn’t forbidden, but interracial relationships weren't exactly common. My Mexican side didn't necessarily appreciate my mother dating someone that wasn't her heritage, so they pushed me out of the village when I was ten years old." He sighed and shook his head at the statement. Almost as if he was still in disbelief by it. "We lived in the woods for about five years peacefully, until fever struck. It had taken both of my parents in a matter of weeks. Leaving teenage me to fend for myself after that."
Although I wasn't expecting to give his entire life story, I wasn’t mad at it. It gave some humanity to the hulking man next to me. 
"I met a witch not too long after that. She invited me into her home, fed me, and gave me a change of clothes," Miguel continued. "She was the first kind person I met in a long time and I decided to stick beside her. We grew close and I told her everything. About my parent's relationship, how their families rejected me, and how utterly lonely I felt when they died. I told her how I, one day, wanted to share that same love with someone. How I wanted to devote my life to that person. How I wanted to live forever with them."
"You were cursed, weren't you?"
"At the time, it was meant to be a blessing. Something to give me hope. Something to make me want to continue living, because I was tired," he confessed.
"Oh, no. . . I'm sorry."
"It's fine."
But the look on his face told me that it still bothered him. 
We stood in silence for a few moments, just letting the information settle in the room. I couldn’t stop glancing at his saddened face every so often. There was something deep within me yearning to comfort him. I wanted to embrace his huge body and place his head against my chest. I'd say sweet nothings, while I played in his hair. I wanted him to hear the steady beat of my heart, in hopes that it would soothe him.
It would, gentle creature. Just one touch and all the pain would drift away from my body.
My eyes widened at the statement as a fate blush dusted my cheeks. "Woo. . . lord give me strength," I swallowed hard. "You know how to make a girl feel special."
"That's because you are," Miguel replied, gripping both my hands. "I waited over a century to be graced with your presence and I could already tell it was worth the wait. Everything about you is just so intoxicating, from those big brown eyes to that wondrous mind. You are everything I ever wanted and more."
My heartbeat started to increase once more, but it wasn’t out of fear. It was lust. To hear such tender words from a man like him had made my heart glow and my womanhood heat. He was praising me for simply existing and that was enough for him. He didn't expect me to be anyone else or to change. From what I could tell, he liked me just the way I was.
Unlike Richard, my soon-to-be ex-husband.
The ill thought made a sour look flutter onto my face. I shoved the faulty memories back into the box that they sprang out of and sighed. I wasn’t to think about the divorce, let alone talk about it.
"So, given the information you have provided, you are about 300 years old," I concluded. 
"That is correct."
"And it would be safe to assume that this used to be your house?"
"Yup."
"And you've been in the basement the entire time?"
"Mhm."
"And the real estate agent knew?"
"Not exactly," he countered. "The section of the basement we were in was sealed off for at least a century. I had started to lose faith in your arrival and decided to rest until I was graced with your presence. The witch had told me that I would instinctively know it was you. There would be some kind of force pushing us both together. And she was right. I mean why else would you buy a house in the middle of nowhere."
I turned away from him, desperately trying to limit the thoughts of my past from flaring right back up. I simply wasn't ready to share that part with him yet. 
A yawn, suddenly, ripped through me and took over my being. I looked down at my wristwatch and realized that it was well into two o'clock in the morning. 
"How about we call it a night?" Miguel suggested. "You seem exhausted and we could always continue this tomorrow."
"Alright," I said, slowly rising to my feet. "Well, good night then." 
"Good night, sweetheart."
Miguel O'Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense of the word. He was allergic to silver and all things holy. Meaning, that little crucifix my grandmother gave me had to stay in the jewelry box from that point forward. He was also deathly sensitive to sunlight and remained asleep for the majority of the day. He didn't necessarily prefer to sleep in the coffin, but he continued out of respect for me. 
Finally, he drank blood and from the dried splatters along the wall, lots of it. I didn’t know where he got it or who he got it from, but I refused to ask. Some things were better left unsaid. 
After a few more encounters with the friendly vampire, he revealed that he awoke from his deep slumber a month before our meeting. It was around the time I was touring the house for the first time. Miguel detailed how his heart grew with anticipation as my footsteps echoed throughout the home. He knew from the moment I stepped out of the car that I was the woman he was looking for, a missing piece to a very complicated puzzle. He wanted nothing more than to reach out to me, but since I primarily arrived at the estate during the daytime he couldn't. 
In pure vampiric fashion, Miguel decided to wait on the night of the full moon to make his grand appearance.  The mysticism of the event was supposed to soften the blow, at least that's what he assumed. Since the curse was performed on a full moon, our connection would be amplified during that time. Which was why he was able to read my thoughts so clearly and I read his emotions. 
The more I talked to Miguel, the more fairy tale-esque the situation felt. It was as though I was a princess, forced to stay in a drafty old castle with a mysterious prince. Someone that looked brutal and monstrous on the outside. Someone that has the capability of ripping someone's head off without breaking a sweat. Yet, he was the kindest man I had ever met. 
My eyes flickered over to one of the many gifts that Miguel has given me over the last few days. There had been about two dozen Double Delight roses sitting in a pristine crystal vase before me. Their white core seemed to glow in the moonlight, while red tips glittered like rubies. I had never seen something so pretty. I don’t know how he managed to order them, with him being a vampire and all, but the action had struck something in me. Miguel didn’t get me flowers out of obligation. He didn’t get them because it was an anniversary or a birthday. He had gotten them just because he knew they would bring me joy. 
I cried when I saw them. 
"You have to stop crying every time I give you something," Miguel said, placing a box on the kitchen counter. "You're going to make me want to kill your past lovers."
My eyes widened at the statement. "Why would you do that?"
"Because they didn't treat you right," he replied nonchalantly. "I mean, what is courting if not showering a woman with gifts?"
I could feel the tears immediately well in my eyes. "Miguel. . . " I murmured.
"You didn’t even open the gift and you're already crying," he tsked. The vampire pulled a tissue from the box and lifted it to my face. "May I?"
I nodded.
Miguel closed the gap between us. His massive body towered over my own, completely encasing me against the counter. He brought the tissue to the corner of my eye and began to dab. His tired brown eyes fazed into mine with an unreadable emotion. It was a cross between uncertainty and adoration. It was almost like he was pondering whether I had truly been his perfect match. If I would ever accept the union and show him who I was. He could sense that I was hiding something, but never pushed. Miguel was a patient man. He was fine waiting an eternity for me to trust him, as long as I stayed with him. 
The vampire lowered the tissue from my face but kept his body close to mine. His brown eyes stayed steady on my face. They digested my worrisome demeanor and presented a soft facial expression. I took my bottom lip between my teeth and nibbled nervously. My eyes kept stealing glances at his soft lips. They have been my main distraction for the past month and I was beginning to lose my self-control.
As a freshly separated woman, the temptation was as strong as ever. A big, strong, rich vampire wanted to take care of me for an eternity? How does one say no to that? I was struggling too.
Kiss me.
I shouted the two words out loud in my mind, in hopes that he'll hear them. His eyes widened from the statement and a slow smile crept onto his face. His muscular arms wrapped around my plump body and pulled me even closer to him. I could feel my ample bosoms squish against his hard abdomen, which sent a shiver down our spine. Miguel’s thoughts were just as dirty as mine and we were tempted to make them a reality. 
The vampire slowly leaned on closer, forcing our noses to touch. He parted his lips and gradually inched towards my mouth. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. The first brush of his lips made my heart stop. My knees felt weak and Miguel had to gather me in his arms. A pleasurable sensation skated across my nerves. Fireworks had exploded behind my closed eyes and everything seemed to still be around me. 
It was simply magical.
Miguel goes to pull away, but I grip his shirt to stop him. Slowly but surely I had found my strength and hooked my arms around his neck. I kissed him back. I welcomed every emotion that blossomed from our union. Adoration. Longing. Lust. I moaned against his lips and brought my body closer to his. A growl erupted behind his throat as he lifted me off the ground. My legs were wrapped around his hips and my arms were securely around his neck.
Are you sure this is what you want, mi amor?
His Latin accent was thicker than usual in my mind. The lust was quickly eating away at his polished demeanor. The carnal desires were slowly coming to the light and his inner beast was almost ready to pounce.
I couldn’t wait.
I pulled away from the drooling vampire and scanned his face. His pupils were dilated and his mouth was partially open. He didn't have to use his lungs or breathe if he didn't want to. Yet, Miguel was heaving. The kiss had seemed to bring life to him, forcing him to take rapid breaths. 
His thoughts were loud in my mind. 
Miguel wanted me. He wanted me in every way one could imagine. 
He wanted me on the floor. Bent over the couch. Against the wall. He wanted me in the shower, hands pressed against the glass. Hovering over the bathroom sink with my arms behind my back. He wanted me in the kitchen, across the island with my legs on his shoulders. He wanted me in the study, fucking me so hard the books fell off the shelves. He wanted me in my bed, my thighs smothering his face while my hips wiggled against his mouth. 
Miguel wanted to truly break the house— our house in. The vampire wanted to fuck me on every available flat surface possible; from the top of his coffin in the basement to the expensive rug in front of the fireplace. He wanted me in the best and the worst way. He wanted me in any way he could have me.
And, to my surprise, I was going to let him. 
I want you, Miguel. I want you so bad it hurts. 
His eyes fluttered closed and he tightened his grip on my body. Miguel pressed his forehead to mine and released a shaky breath. “That’s all I ever wanted to hear, Y/N.” 
His plump lips locked with mine moments later. The kiss was even more intense than its predecessor and it made spin. My hands found their way into his hair, tugging and pulling the curls as I wiggled my tongue in his mouth. The Latin man blindly started to take steps out of the kitchen. Like an expert, he managed to walk through the hallway without bumping into any furniture or walls. He slowly walked up the stairs, while dropping messy kisses down my jaw and to my neck. My eyes rolled back as he sucked the tender area. My whimpers bounced through the house without warning. The sheer sounds of my pleasure were starting to stir things within me. 
My ex always wanted me to be quiet when the moment came. He said my moans were “nauseating” and took him out of the mood. Richard preferred I be as silent as a mouse while he climbed on top of me a humped me like a rabid dog. The sex never lasted longer than ten minutes and there was rarely any foreplay. The act felt like a chore, rather than an activity we could enjoy together. 
It was one of the many things Richard ruined for me.
Miguel lowered my body onto a familiar surface and pulled me away from the embrace. I opened my eyes to see his big brown eyes staring down at me. A look of pure bliss had graced his face as a took me in. He looked at me as if I were the only woman in the entire world. Like I was his most prized possession. Miguel O’Hara looked at me as if I was his entire reason for existing and I could feel my heart swell with an emotion I almost forgot existed: love.
I was beginning to fall in love with a man I had barely known for a month. 
I was falling in love with a man that rested for a hundred years, waiting for me.
I had started to fall in love with a vampire. A monster to some, but an absolute sweetheart to me. 
The fanged bastard was starting to creep into my cold heart and repair everything I thought was broken forever. 
Miguel had made me realize that there wasn’t anything wrong with me, that I wasn’t broken. I just needed the right lover to make me whole.
My trembling hands reached for the buttons on my shirt. I fumbled with the little pieces of plastic, silently cursing myself for being so nervous. Without saying a word, Miguel’s gentle hands replaced my own. His nimble fingers undid the buttons in a matter of seconds. He slipped the cotton garment off my shoulders and tossed it aside. The longs digits gently caressed my soft center and shoulders. Miguel’s touches were light and respectful— something I wasn’t particularly craving at that moment. With shaky hands, I fumbled with the belt buckle of my pants. I undid the fastening of the dark blue jeans and started to push them down my waist. The vampire moved his hands lower, assisting me in the undressing activity. As he did that, I removed the hair clip from my head and allowed my box braids to fall to my back.
Miguel growled at the sight. He took in my pretty purple lingerie set and crawled on the bed. It was a vintage lacy number, with handmade lace and silk ribbons. I had bought it sometime after he had given me the twelfth gift; it was one he had to assemble. His bulging muscles and breathy grunts had practically pushed me to the lingerie website. My dirty, little mind couldn’t help but imagine him making those noises while I was underneath him. For that reason, I decided I needed to be ready. I needed to wear lingerie just in case I got lucky.
“You’re as beautiful as a painting, mi amor,” he purred. “I could stare at you forever.”
A warm sensation arose to my cheeks as my heart began to pound. “Miguel. . .”
“My darling. . .” he replied, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He slipped the thin cotton fabric from his muscular arms and tossed it aside. “I have waited for this. . .” Miguel unbuckled his pants. “I have waited for you. . .” He slid the dark grey trousers down his muscle thighs and allowed them to pool at his ankles. “For over a century and that wasn’t nearly as hard as being in the same house with you for the past four weeks.” 
The final thing remaining on his body was a pair of boxer briefs, which I had bought him. The bulge, now unrestricted, was bigger than I could’ve ever imagined. It was bigger than I could have ever had, yet I wasn’t scared. If what he told me was true, then we were made for each other. Completely destined to be united. So, in other words, I should be able to take his monster dick with no problem.
Touch me. 
Within seconds, his massive body was hovering atop mine. His lips were dancing along my neck as his fingertips wiggled between my thighs. They pushed past my waistband and down my curly mound. The callous pads gently caressed the sensitive lower lips, which caused my body to shiver. They separated the vulva and found my happy-swollen pearl instantly. A gasp erupted from my throat as the man above me rubbed large circles against it. It had been so long since I had been touched so intimately by someone else— I had almost forgotten what the sensation felt. Moans spilled from my lips as my hands pulled against his hair. My body vibrated against his, begging Miguel to take it just a single step further. My slick channel felt so empty and practically unused. It craved to be stretched and probed. 
“You are so wet. . .” The vampire growled against my neck. “I’ve barely even touched you. . .”
“Please. . .” I mewled, rolling my body against his. “Stop the teasing. . . I can’t take it anymore.”
Miguel released a deep chuckle. “Whatever you say, mi amor.”
In the blink of an eye, my underwear was off and the vampire was beneath me. My thighs rested on either side of his handsome face and his large hands were on my hips. I looked down and immediately noticed the facial expression he chose to wear for that occasion. It was pure adoration. My curly mound and sensitive vulva were in his direct line of vision. The vampire had been staring at it as if it were the most marvelous thing he had ever seen in his 300+ years of living. With tender hands, he pushed my hovering hips down on his open, waiting maw. Electricity shot through my body as his tongue lapped against my folds.
“Oh fuck. . .”
My hips rolled against his eager face, while I used the headboard to stabilize myself. The velvet muscle caressed the sensitive area, sending shocks through my body. His firm grasp directed my hips closer to his face. The gentle pulling didn’t stop until my pelvis was comfortably resting on the hot mouth and prickly chin. The fear of smothering him had come and gone; Miguel O’Hara was a traditional vampire in every sense. He didn’t need to breathe. He could feast on my beloved womanhood for as long as he desired without coming up for air. Shivers ran through my spine from the idea. A feeling of triumph coursed through my veins, alongside the pleasure giving me goosebumps. I had truly hit the lover jackpot of the millennia. 
Eventually, his soft lips found the aching pearl underneath her curtains. The lips wrapped around the bud and trapped her in a cage. A powerful suction fired up in Miguel’s mouth and my eyes snapped open from the action. My hips started to have a mind of its own. I rolled them faster on his face, harder too. He alternated between sucking and lapping the oozing cunt— my god did it feel oh so good. Desire was coursing through my needy body. A hunger I didn’t recognize was forming in the pit of my stomach. There was a sort of power in the position Miguel had placed me in. My thighs were completely smothering his face and his mouth was full of my cunt. My hips were fucking his hot mouth like they only had five minutes left on Earth. My hands gripped the headboard so tightly I thought I might break it. I could feel my peak nearing, but the notion didn’t stop my movements. I fucked myself against his mouth for what felt like hours until my back suddenly arched and my toes curled.
“Fuck!” I cursed as my legs shook against his face. “I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face!”
Slowly, all the feeling left my body except Miguel’s mouth on my pussy. My limbs numbed and my head drew blank. I could no longer hear the sounds of the sultry moans dripping from my lips, just my rapid heartbeat exploding in my chest. There was a warm sensation at the pit of my stomach, one I hardly recognized. My mouth fell open and my movements came to a screeching halt. My thighs squeezed shut, and my body hunched forward. One of my hands gripped his hair, while the other remained on the headboard. Short shouts spilled from my lips. Incoherent phrases followed soon after. There was not a cohesive thought in my mind at that moment. 
The orgasm felt long and raw. It unearthed something unholy within me. I wanted more of it. I wanted more of him. I needed Miguel inside of me right then and right now.
When my soul had returned to my body, I dragged my twitching lower half to his awaiting cock. It was still hard, throbbing, and glistening. I wrapped my hand around the shaft and ran the tip along my puffy pussy. I let it circle my clit a few times before aligning it with my entrance. 
“Y/N, wait— Shit!”
My slutty hips slowly sank onto the vampire’s cock, earning a violent twitch of the member inside of me. I firmly placed my hands on his chest, pushing my hips down even more. There was a subtle burn from how much he stretched my needy pussy, but I didn’t mind. I only made it about halfway down the shaft before Miguel started to rub my forgotten clit. Moans fell from my lips as I pushed down just a little bit more. Before I knew it, the entire member was buried in my snatch to our surprise. We looked down in shock at where our curly bits met in shock. 
We are made for each other, huh?
Miguel’s eyes sparkled at the statement and a wicked grin fell on his lips. 
Before I knew it, the vampire had placed me flat on my back with my legs hugging his waist. His deep brown eyes were looking into mine with such intention— I didn’t need to hear his voice in my mind to understand it. Miguel, then, hooked his arms underneath my shoulders and placed his forehead against mine. His hips rolled slowly against my womanhood. The painstakingly muted movements made my body sing with anticipation. It felt as though he was testing the waters. The vampire wanted to see just how used how much my heat accommodate his massive cock. He needed to make sure I wasn’t being hurt in any way and that the motions weren’t too rough for me. 
I brought my lips to his and gave him a seductive kiss.
Fuck me like you mean it.
The massive man groaned against my lips and started to litter lazy kisses against my neck. 
You’re going to be the death of me.
Before I could process what he meant, the vampire lifted his head from the area and readjusted his body. He placed his palms flat down on the mattress and raised his body from mine. Our chests were separated, but our legs were tangled together. It seemed like he preferred it that way. He took in my expression once more before increasing his thrusts. The process was gradual. The pressure and speed increased in small increments. Again, Miguel was testing my limits as to how much I could handle. He was doing everything in his power to make sure this was a comfortable experience instead of a painful one.
The moans didn’t start flying from my mouth until a few moments passed. My entire body was jiggling from the force applied to his thrusts. My eyes slipped shut and my back arched against his looming body. 
"Please," I whimpered. "Please, Miguel. Just a little harder."
I could feel a pleasurable flame ignited within me. I wanted nothing more than my body ablaze and the wind knocked from me. The hunger was still prevalent even after the hardest orgasm of my life. I wanted Miguel in any possible way I could have him. Above, below, and adjacent. On my back, my stomach, or my side. I wanted him to plow his massive member in me, just as desperately as he sucked into my snatch. 
With a growl, Miguel hoisted my body in the air and pulled me onto his lap. Instinctively, I hooked my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist. He sat back on his heels and held me tightly against his chest. Without warning, his hips rose from their slouched position and collided with my center. A gasp tickled my tongue and air escaped my lungs. The thrusts were deep and hard. They pushed through me with such intention and precision that it was supernatural. The smooth head of his member was nestled against a pleasure point I forgot I had. The snap of his hips had sent the head to kiss the underside of my cervix, which was sending shock waves through my core. His strength and speed were unmatched. The hip thrusts were so quick that it felt as if Miguel was vibrating against me. My entire body felt tingly and warm. Deep throaty moans shot out of me as my eyes fell closed. My walls fluttered against the devilish member and I could already feel my peak begin to rise.
“H-h-holy Sh-sh-shit,” I stammered, digger my nails into his shoulders. “M-M-Miguel. . .”
Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the smile slowly take over his face. 
 Take me, mi amor. Take all of me. My cock, my power, my adoration— it is all yours to have. To hold. To cherish.
The sweet words had sent my insides into a frenzy. My heart swelled from the dedication. It made the impending orgasm all that much sweeter.
I am yours. In this lifetime and the next. I will remain by your side as long as you breathe and even after that. 
His name was the only word I could formulate in my mind as he continued to pound into me. I chanted it over and over again in my mind since my tongue wasn’t cooperating properly. I thought about our life together and what it could look like. Our nights would be filled with cuddles and kisses. Declarations of love and tiny gifts to show appreciation towards each other. There would be no arguments or spats over silly things. I wouldn’t have to hide in my bedroom because he came home too drunk or pretend it didn’t happen the next morning. I could ask him to fix things and it would get done. I wouldn’t have to wonder if his love was true, since he had no problem with telling me every chance he got. From what I gathered from his mind, there was nothing I could do to make Miguel love me even less. Nothing I could do to provoke him to yell at me or attempt to hit him. Even if I drew a stake into his heart, Miguel wouldn’t even stop me. He told me, “Death by your hand is the only way I would want to go.”
What he had for me was more than just love and trust. It is more than simply being fated to one another. He had the drive to be a good partner, someone worth loving. It showed in everything he ever did. From the copious amounts of gifts to the gentle words in my mind as he fucked me into another dimension— Miguel O’Hara simply loved loving me and that made my heart ache.
The orgasm collided with my body and immediately pulled me out of my daze. My eyes rolled back and my head fell as well. Short, curt gasps puffed out of my mouth. Fireworks exploded throughout my mind as the orgasm progressed. His movements remained steady and consistent, making it even longer than intended. 
On my pleasurable way down, one of my hands crept up to Miguel’s head and took hold of his dark curls. I moved my head a little bit and exposed my neck. 
Drink.
Miguel stopped his rapid thrusting and looked down at me. “Are you sure, darling? Because you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I interjected. “And I trust that you won’t drain me completely. So, drink.”
His brown eyes fluttered to my exposed neck and shaky breath left his lips. “Just let me know if I am hurting you, okay?”
“Mhm.”
Slowly, Miguel sunk his teeth into the soft flesh, earning a small gasp from me. There was a small pinch, but then it was followed by gentle suckling. My eyes fluttered closed as a glorious sensation arose within me. It was foreign, something I could only describe as delectable. The forbidden nature of the act was feeding my carnal desires in a way that nothing else had. In a way, Miguel had been getting his fill of me just as I got of him. The transaction was nowhere near normal or mundane. The supernatural nature of it was making my head spin and my desire spike once again. 
My hips rolled against his lap as he continued to drink from my neck. His member was still hard nestled between my sensitive walls, but it was twitching. It signaled to me that Miguel was just as turned on as I was by the act. I pulled our bodies back, resulting in me on my back again. His mouth slipped from my neck with a groan.  Miguel sat up from his slumped position and looked up at the ceiling. When he opened his eyes, they were pupil-less. The once-white sclera was shrouded in black with specks of white, from the moonlight. His mouth was painted a deep crimson and his fangs were longer than than I had ever seen them. He looked every bit like a scary, bloodthirsty vampire; yet I wasn’t afraid of him. Not for one second. I was even more turned on. 
“Filthy little minx.” His voice was deeper than before. It rumbled through me and straight to my core. “You entice me with such a tempting offer and then lay there all pretty and docile.” He licked his lips slowly, capturing every stray drop of blood at the corners of his mouth. “It’s almost like you want me to ruin your pretty, plump body with my vampiric tendencies.” 
He pulled my rear back onto his lap but left my upper back against the mattress. Miguel’s massive hands took hold of my hips before he snapped his against mine at a sickening pace. It wasn’t nearly as fast as before, but it was a little bit harder than earlier. My breasts bounced atop my chest as the thrusts pierced through me. The vampire was no longer kissing the sweet spot beneath my cervix; he was obliterating it. My fingers gripped the sheets beneath me and I held them tightly. 
“Oh Fuck!” I yelled, staring directly into his eyes. “Just like that! Don’t stop!”
The sweet lover that I had grown to adore had left and been replaced with something I can only describe as a monster. The nature of his movements could no longer be described as tender and loving. They were animalist and rugged. They were unholy and disgusting— yet I couldn’t get enough. Miguel had fucked me like I was the last woman on earth. There was no hate or malice in the action. It left like he needed me. Like I was the only person that could get him that turned on and ready to risk it all.
“And you would absolutely correct, mi amor,” he groaned, staring down at me. Never breaking his pace, not even for a moment. “No woman will ever have the power that you have over me. To me, you are the last woman on this Earth that will get this kind of care and devotion from me. I will spend an eternity trying to prove myself worthy of your adoration. You are my first and last love.”
“Oh yes!” I screamed, gripping the sheets harder. “Keep going! Please keep going.”
A snarl crept from his throat as his dangerous pace continued. Even in the heat of pleasure, I could feel his hips fluttering and his cock twitching. Miguel was starting to reach his limit.
Come with me.
The vampire threw his head back and shouted a word in spanish. His hips had done their best to keep their iron will and delectable pace, but they became sloppy and unorganized. Miguel’s chest was rising and falling as if he had just ran a marathon. His mouth was agape and his fangs were still long. His thighs were vibrating underneath my rear and his member twitched violently within me. Yet, like the gentleman he was, Miguel’s hand found my aching pearl and he started to rub it viciously. 
Our bodies rasped and shook against one another. Our breathing was practically in sync as we the throes of pleasure collided with our spirits.
I love you, Y/N.
The vampire had shouted the statement in my mind as his cock shot hot liquid into my snatch. Miguel whimpered and whined as he emptied the load in me. It was a beautiful site. To have a have a man enjoying sex and passion without limiting the experience was delightful. I could feel my heart begin to warm and my mind gain a glossy haze. A gentle pool in my belly started to overfill and my orgasm poured onto me. It was a gently as a river and just as powerful as the ones prior. It caused my entire body to relax into the mattress and my rear to slip from Miguel’s lap. I threw an arm over my face as my body trembled and twitched. 
Without missing a beat, Miguel moved from his position between my legs. He took a spot on the right side of my body and pulled me into his arms. He cradled me as the aftershocks of the orgasm died down. The vampire murmured sweetnothings into my ears and mind. Reassuring me that everything was okay and that I was safe. After a few moments, I lifted my head from his chest and found his eyes. They had went back to their normal state. My shaky hands brushed against his sharp jawline and strong nose bridge. I cupped his cheek, before pressing his lips to mine. 
I adore you. 
---------
a/n: I have seen the asks and the messages. I appreciate your support and I will try my best to get on them as soon as possible. I will be posting every Sunday once again.
next on the queue (hopefully): Peter B Parker x Reader x Miguel O'Hara
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