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pretty-little-mind33 · 5 months

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Wildest Dreams

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Finding out that your ex-best friend might have smelt you in the Amortentia feels as surreal as you smelling him.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: harassment, non-consensual touching (non-sexual), insecurities

When you hear the door to the classroom swing open, slam into the wall, and as if on cue a chorus of laughs resound around the room, you know it's James and his imbecile friends.

Your lips thin into a tight-lipped smile as you send Marlene an exhausted look.

"Gentlemen," Slughorn drones on as he turns to look at the boys, who comedically trip over themselves to find their spots in the crowd of students, "You're late."

"Evidently, Professor." Sirius Black quips and nudges his shoulder into James. The latter smirks.

James has somehow found his way next to you. He hasn't done it on purpose but when he turns his head and sees you beside him, his smirk turns into a wide smile.

A smile that never fails to make your knees shake and your heart feel like it could explode.

"Y/n," James whispers.

"Hi Potter," you roll your eyes, hiding a smile behind faux frustration.

You and James aren't friends. Well, unless you counted the years from ages four to eleven, when you had been inseparable. You'd grown apart these last years and while you'd cried over your lost friendship in first year, you had decided it was for the best to distance yourself from him anyway.

Having a crush on your best friend is incredibly cliché.

Still, although you weren't friends in the same way as you had been, James has always been kind to you.

He says hello to you when he sees you in the hallway. You have had pleasant conversations in passing, and when his family occasionally has yours over – for old times sake – you both sit on the balcony outside his window and talk as if nothing has changed.

You shift away from James a little, feeling too close to him, and cross your arms. You turn your attention to Slughorn as he clears his throat and lifts the lid from the pot, "Very well then,"

His sentence is drowned out by the soft, delicate smell that fills the room. You pin-point the scent of broom-polish immediately. Rosemary, vanilla, bergamot and cedar. Your expression falls. Bergamot and cedar. Your head spins and you wonder if James put on too much cologne this morning or if —

Your mind suddenly goes completely blank when you feel James's breath against your ear, uttering exactly what you had been wondering, but this time about you, "Hey, did you put on more perfume than usual? I can smell it from here," his voice is teasing and you feel just a little fainter than you already had been.

"Amortentia," Slughorn interrupts, "The most powerful love potion to exist. It smells differently to everyone, depending on what attracts them — or sometimes who attracts them," He continues on, explaining the dangers of the potion, but you aren't listening anymore.

You look up. James has gone quiet and he's staring at the bubbling liquid, a vacant look in his eyes. Your heart clenches and you turn your head, inclining it down. You must have heard him wrong. James must have been confused.

A pit forms in your stomach when James moves away from you, leaving your side feeling empty. You hear him laugh with Remus and your hand squeezes around your arms.

You hadn't worn any perfume this morning.

"Hey, Y/n/n," You're pulled from your thoughts when William, another Gryffindor, comes up from behind you and shoves into your shoulder so he's standing next to you.

"I knew I'd smell someone as hot as you in there," He teases, leaning in close. "Just like fucking vanilla," Williams brings his hand into your hair, twirling some strands in his fingers as he presses his nose close to your temple and inhales.

"Hey," You move your head away, feeling disgusted. William just barks out a laugh and his arm extends to grab yours. Suddenly, you're almost pushed to the side when James stands in front of you and shoves William away. The boy bumps into the cauldron and the Amortentia spills all over the floor.

"All three of you," Slughorn suddenly booms, his cheeks flushed crimson, "McGonagall. Now."

So you find yourself standing in the middle of James and William in McGonagall's office. The older woman is sitting at her desk, her arms crossed as she stares at you all from behind her small glasses. She looks at William first considering his shirt is drenched in the thick liquid from the Amortentia, "What happened?"

"Potter shoved me," Williams states quickly, glaring at James.

"And I'd do it again," James snarls, crossing his arms.

McGonagall looks utterly exhausted at their bickering and turns her attention to you. "What about you, Miss Y/l/n, care to explain what happened?"

William sends you a dark look, but when you look at James his expression is soft. "William made me uncomfortable in class and when James saw, he accidentally shoved him into the Amortentia and it spilled all over."

"It wasn't an accident! He did it on purpose!" William argues like a child and James sends him a knowing smirk.

"Oh yeah, the shove was intentional," he grins wolfishly, "Although, I didn't mean to knock the potion over, Minnie," James looks over at McGonagall and this time he looks a little sheepish. McGonagall just stares at him as if he has gone insane and then she looks at you.

"You can leave, Miss Y/l/n," she says and looks back at the boys and hums, "You two may not."

You glance at James a little nervously but he sends you a reassuring smile. So, you ignore William's loud complaining and thank McGonagall as you walk out of her classroom.

* * *

A few hours later, when you're walking out of the Great Hall after dinner, you and your friends run into James again. He's also with his friends, leaning against the wall, and they're laughing obnoxiously loud.

However, when James sees you his smile widens. "Ladies," he says, crossing his arms cheekily.

"Gentlemen," your lips curl into a smirk as you nod at Sirius, Remus, and Peter. James tilts his head at his friends, his expression quirking almost as if he's annoyed that you mentioned them and not him.

"You feeling okay?" James asks.

You stare at him, trying to understand exactly what he means.

Does he really care or is he only asking because he's in trouble because of you. Is it mocking?

You start to overthink and James can sense it. So, he moves a little closer to you and you can smell his cologne. It sends heat creeping up your neck.

He asks again. "After what happened with William," he whispers, "when he made you uncomfortable. Are you okay?" James looks genuine and you see his hand hesitating to touch your arm.

You look up at him, staring into his eyes, "O-Oh, yeah. I'm fine. I was just - I didn't think anyone would have smelt me in that potion," you laugh, rambling because that's what you do when you're nervous. You can see James's expression shift into a small smile.

"You'd be surprised," he says, rubbing his nape, "Hey, can we talk in private? I wanted to ask you something?"

Once you say yes, you find yourself in a small, empty, classroom with James. You lean against a desk, hand gripping the edge as you stare at him. "What's up?" you ask. James has never asked you to talk like this.

"My mum is having one of her family dinners for Christmas," James starts, "I wanted to invite you, personally," he adds, as if he's been rehearsing.

Usually, his mother will invite yours and then by proxy you'll show up. But, this is different. "You want me to come?" your eyebrow raises in confusion, "Personally?"

"Yeah," he sounds unsure, "I mean we're friends, right?"

Is that what we are, you want to ask him but you don't. "I didn't think we were friends anymore," You say honestly and James's expression falls.

He fiddles with his hands nervously but walks closer until he's directly in front of you. You lean away from him and into the desk, chin tilted up to look at him.

"I'm an idiot," he whispers, looking at you intensely, "I shouldn't have let you slip out of my hands like that. I, well, miss you, a lot."

You listen to him with harsh breaths, trying to understand where this all comes from and why now.

James's hand reaches out and hovers over your cheeks until he holds you and brings you closer to his face. Your eyes round. You're so sure he'll kiss you with how close you are and by the way he's looking at you. You don't have time to make up your mind if you'd want to kiss him or not, because instead, he guides your cheek to his chest and his arms wrap around you.

He crushes you into a hug.

Your breath escapes you in a sigh, "James?"

"Y/n," he says your name smoothly and soothes a hand down your hair, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. With just a hint of freshly-mowed grass, probably because whenever I see you after a Quidditch match you always have some grass in your hair, right here," James says in a whisper and his finger traces behind your ear.

"Usually from a small tumble," he adds, "You're so clumsy sometimes."

You pull away only to have him hold you closer.

"I can't keep pretending I don't think about you," he admits and that sends all emotions crashing over you. You stare at him, lips parted and eyebrows creased, as you try and understand the meaning behind the words. "I smelt you in the Amortentia," James admits.

"You smelt me? You're joking."

James suddenly frowns and he watches as you practically try and sink into the desk behind you. He can take a hint and he moves away. "What? No?"

You feel your cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. "You aren't joking?"

James's face softens and he smiles. "Of course I'm not – I smelt you and also your perfume which," his smile turns into a smirk, "I can tell you aren't wearing right now." James chuckles happily, his eyes crinkling in the corners and your heart flutters. "Merlin I gave myself away in that classroom, didn't I, love?"

Your insides become mush at the nickname and you find yourself nodding.

James looks at you fondly even when he says, "I understand if you don't feel the same. If I'm not the boy you like or a boy you want. I have been a foolish ass for the majority of our time here at school. I've ignored you and worse than that, I let myself forget how lucky I was to have you as my friend and I'm so sorry."

As you hear his words, you can feel tears brim in your eyes. James's fond smile disappears and he starts to panic. "Hey, hey, hey!" his hands cup around your cheeks without even thinking. "I don't want to make you cry, love. Y-you're okay," he promises frantically.

James is so close. His cologne has invaded your senses until you can't think clearly. All you can do is lean in closer until your nose brushes his. James is surprised but when he looks into your eyes, his body relaxes as he understands what you want. You like to think it's all the years you were friends that makes it so easy for James to understand.

"You want me to kiss you?" he whispers, his voice husky and low.

You feel warm all over as his arm slides behind you and he holds your lower back, waiting for a yes so he can pull you closer. You nod, smiling. You wonder if I have to tell him he's the one you smelled in the potion or if he'll understand by the way you kiss him.

James's lips press onto yours. He's testing the waters, making sure he's not moving too quickly or too slowly. You let your hand find his hair as you pull him closer. James's hand wraps around you and in the passion, he hoists you up onto the desk behind you and you pull him in.

You kiss him like you've never kissed anyone and it takes your hand on his chest to snap James back into reality. He gently disconnects your lips and leans his forehead on yours.

His eyes are still closed when he says, "Shh, we have all the time in the world. I don't plan on letting you slip away from me again, Y/n," he says it like a promise. Like a prayer.

Finally, you speak, "James. I missed you," you admit in a whisper.

James holds you closer. "I missed you more. You don't know how much you mean to me."

You laugh, feeling how close he is and how badly he doesn't want to drop your hand. "I think I can guess," you say teasingly.

James shakes his head. "My love goes beyond any words I could possibly muster."

You stare at him with a raised eyebrow. "Since when is James Potter such a hopeless romantic?"

James grins, his hand sliding down to your thigh as he draws soothing circles on your skin, "He's always been a romantic, darling. He just hasn't had the chance to show you," he whispers and quickly kisses the tip of your nose.

"Well, he can start now," you smile.

James nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. "So, does this mean that we're friends again?"

You pull away and send him a playful look. "Can this mean we're more than friends now?"

James looks into your eyes and deep in his brown ones, you can see his sincerity, "We'll be whatever you want, love," he says. He hugs you close and your face is buried in his neck. You sniff, your smile widening.

You whisper into his neck, "Bergamot and cedar."

James chuckles, still holding you, "What was that, love?"

"Nothing," you smile, simply content with holding him.

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inkskinned · 1 month

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you found out today that a phrase you have used before was coined by an abusive man. this felt like getting your teeth taken out. it made you sick and sad and tired, but not surprised.

bad people tell you to be careful when you talk badly of bad men, that it could "ruin" a life. you had your life ruined by a bad man, not that it ever matters to them. your real life having real consequences is not valued as highly as the potential of his future.

this has always been a frustrating little mathematics problem for you. you've missed school and had to call out sick at work and had panic attacks that lasted for weeks. it stole sleep and food and friends from you. you cried in public, fucked your relationships up. and the whole time: your present has never mattered so much as the great what if! of his future. like - one life (your life) is already ruined, should we really ruin two?

so you live with the consequences and he doesn't, and that's just like, something you need therapy for. you once discussed this with one of your friends over coffee. she chewed the wooden stirrer, looked off into the distance. "once i became a victim, everything that happens to me afterward is automatically less interesting in the eyes of the general public. it is always about him. he changed my identity. to survivor. to statistic. meanwhile this whole time - i am a person."

you learned in college that three out of five of your favorite artists and authors were actually abusive assholes. these days, you are no longer surprised. oh, is that what was happening behind closed doors? of course it was, he was a "genius," and she was just a girl. you are talking about him in art history, so obviously his career was absolutely ruined, for eternity. that's what happens, right? they strike your name from the record and refuse to remember you? nobody really knows her name, but hey. that's what you get for being close to celebrity.

you got into an argument about it, which was a bad argument, because it made you cry. he said what, you want us to just ignore all the things this man did because he made a few women uncomfortable? and you'd balled your fists up and choked on it. later, in bed, you agonized over the response you'd been trying to articulate but never found the right moment to deploy: you are ignoring what any person could do if they weren't being fucking abused. maybe her talents far exceeded his and she was just never allowed to fucking use them. maybe we only see genius in white men because they purposefully fucking squash and silence any other people with talent.

but you'd cried about it instead of saying that, because you are the cost. you are the talent and potential that he took. you used to be brave and smart and clever and unafraid. like a lich, he stole years of your life.

quiet on set made you sad and sick and tired, but not surprised. unfortunately, one of the things he said was true: an entire network of people allowed it to continue. this is not news to you, because you have seen entire networks of people make the same fucking excuses when the same thing or-worse happened to you. and your particular story isn't even in hollywood. it was just a guy. it was still difficult getting people to stand up for you.

you and your friend wait in line for your coffee. like a standup joke, one man turns to the other and says "can't wait for every bitch to come crawling out of the woodwork complaining about harassment. it's another metoo." and you think - oh, that's the network. your boss tucks her hair back and whispers that while your skirt is cute, you're giving the boys the wrong idea. that's the network. when you'd told your "friend" about what happened, she'd said oh you must have misunderstood, that would never happen. and that's the network.

you woke up this morning panting, because years later you still have panic attacks. oh, it's not a network, actually, it's a web. and you, little moth: are you still surprised you're caught in it?

#warm up #spilled ink #writeblr

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liliacamethyst · 10 months

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Web of Shadow and Light (Part III)

Sequel to Webs of Fate

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 5.2 K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine

Part I Part II Part III

The Spider-HQ echo with an unsettling symphony - a child's piercing cries and the hushed whispers of concern from some of the multiverse's bravest Spider heroes. They stand clustered around the smallest yet most powerful disturbance they've ever encountered - a baby boy. His wails have been echoing through the HQ since Miguel left the room, leaving the baby and dozens of Spider-man behind. Each cry is a call for help that pulls at their hearts, demanding attention, challenging their patience.

After much deliberation and coaxing from the rest, Miguel gave his team an ultimatum - they have until dawn to find an alternative solution, before Gabriel has to be eliminated, before the universe collapses on itself. His voice was a cold whisper when he spoke, "Figure out another way by tomorrow morning, or..." Nobody dares to complete the sentence, not even Miguel, the unsaid words hanging heavily in the air. And with that Miguel was gone, and the baby immediately started wailing and hasn’t stopped since.

Now Gwen, with her brows knitted in worry, rocks the baby with desperate gentleness. Her blue eyes are bright with unshed tears, a look of sheer helplessness painting her usually confident face. Beside her Peter B. is attempting to cheer Gabriel up but his efforts as pointless as they are endearing. The usually funny and charming Peter B seems to be losing a battle of wits with a one-year-old. It would've been humorous, had the situation been any different.

The sight of the little baby boy weeping his heart out, oblivious to the chaos his presence is causing tugs at their hearts, binding them in a collective resolution - they must protect this child. The shadows and the light, entwined in this web they’ve all been thrown into. And the clock is ticking.

Hobie scoops up the little boy, cradling him close in an attempt to soothe his relentless tears. "See, the cow says muhhhhh," he coos. His tiny cries falter, curiosity momentarily replacing distress. He gazes at Hobie with wide eyes, intrigued by the cool looking man. "And the butterfly," Hobie pauses dramatically, "well, the butterfly don’t say nothin’." He continues his little game, while rocking the baby gently in his arms. "And the pig says-"

Miles chimes in with an eager grin, "Oink, Oink."

"Nah, bruv," Hobie laughs. “The pig says, ‘You have the right to remain silent!’”

Gabriel’s face scrunches up, and the waterworks start again. Hobie chuckles, "Fair enough, little fella. Cops make me wanna cry too."

Meanwhile Jessica Drew, clad in her black and white Spider-Woman outfit, her dark locks cascading around her shoulders, is leaning against the doorframe, half entering the room, her eyebrows raised. "Well? I assume he didn’t stop crying?“

Beside her Peter B. with his shaggy brown hair and five o’ clock beard just shakes his head.

“This is nuts. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING is working.“ Gwen states.

In the background, the cries of baby Gabriel cotinue, little fists flailing as he continued his tantrum. Jessica, arching an eyebrow, comments, “He’s still going at it?”

Hobie Brown, just gives her a quick nod. “Oh yeah, the kid has got a set of lungs.”

Suddenly, Pavitr Prabhakar, yelps as a makeshift toy, made out of wood and spiderwebs, hit him square in the forehead. "Ow! And one hell of arm throw."

Methodically, Jessica starts running through a mental checklist. “Diaper?”

Peter B. Parker nods. “Clean.”

“Food?” Jessica glances at Miles who holds a baby food jar and a bent spoon.

Miles, in his black and red suit, shrugs. “Kept smacking the spoon out my hand.”

“Nap?” Jessica's questions further.

The entire room answer in unison, clearly frustrated “Literally the first thing we tried.”

Pavitr smirkes at them. “Jinx.” But his joke is short-lived as Gabriels screams become even louder.

Gwen, then takes charge, “Ok, we have to do something,” her eyes flicking around the room with determination. She points to Jess, “You have to talk to Miguel. You’ve been around him the longest, maybe you can get through to him.”

Jess looks hesitant but nods.

“And Peter,” Gwen turns to Peter B who’s still juggling items in his hands, to entertain the baby and stop his crying. “Get Mayday’s toys. Maybe the baby’s just bored.”

Peter gives a thumbs up. “You got it, boss.”

“And Pav, Hobie,” Gwen instructs, her voice steady. “You need to rally the other Spider-people. We need everyone on board to protect this little guy.”

“Margo, you’re with me, girl. We are paying our old friend Lyla a little surprise visit. Something’s a little fishy with her.” Margo nods eagerly.

As everyone scatters into action, Miles stands there, looking slightly lost and raising his hands. "Hey, guys, you forgot about me! What am I supposed to do? How can I help?" he calls out to the rapidly moving group.

Pav whirls around and points at Miles, "You, take care of the little guy, newbie," he says, as Hobie thrusts the still crying baby into Miles' arms.

"Great," Miles grumbles, balancing Gabriel on his hip and looking down at the squirming bundle of tears.

He starts to bounce up and down gently, trying to imitate what he's seen in movies. The baby continues to cry, unfazed by Miles' efforts.

“Alright buddy, let’s figure this out together. I can swing through New York, so how hard can babysitting be?” Miles whispers to the baby.

Hours drag on and Gabriel's relentless cries continue to echo through the HQ. Despite his earnest attempts, Miles, armed with only his spider powers and limited babysitting experience, is unsuccessful in calming the baby. He’s tried everything he can think of – makinf funny faces, telling funny stories in a soothing tone, gently swinging him back and forth with his web-slinging skills, and even humming a little tune (it was Humble by Kendrick Lamar, but the thought counts, right?). At one point, he even tried to entertain the baby by creating animals out of webbing, but that didn’t work either. The baby is relentless, and his cries only seem to get louder.

In the meantime in Miguel’s office, the echoing cries penetrate through the walls. Migel is sitting behind his desk looking at some documents, while Jess stands in front of him.

“Please, Miguel, it’s a baby boy. How did you imagine doing this, huh?” Jess exclaims, her voice rising. “Did you plan to build some sort of machine to just vaporize him? Or did you think of strangling him with your own bare hands? I know you’re not a monster.” But Miguel's face remains stoic, his eyes never leaving the papers on his desk.

“And look,” Jess continues, pointing vaguely in the direction of where the baby’s cries are coming from, “this baby is already older, and nothing has collapsed yet. The universe is still here.”

“I can’t risk any more lives, Jess,”Miguel responds coldly, finally looking up at her.

“But what if there is another way? We haven’t even tried everything. We have brilliant minds here. Let’s...let’s figure something out that doesn’t involve.. that,” Jess pleads, her voice softening.

Miguel looks at her for a long moment but his expression remains unreadable. The cries of the baby continue to fill the air.

Jess then turns her gaze towards Lyla, , who is stationed nearby, her holographic interface flickering with data. “Lyla, what are the kid’s powers? Run a genetics test, a DNA test. We need something to work with.”

Lyla’s synthetic voice answers in an eerily calm tone, "I have already processed the genetic information, Jessica. Thanks very much, genius. As per my findings, the child’s power attributes remain undefined. In regards to the DNA test..."

Lyla hesitates just a fraction of a second, but enough for Miguel to notice. It's an unexpected response from an AI that's programmed to be efficient and direct. A strange tingle rises within him but he pushes it aside, refocusing on the matter at hand.

“is inconclusive.” Jess squints at Lyla. “Inconclusive? What do you mean? Is he an anomaly or not?”

“He’s an anomaly, certainly. However, the DNA analysis is...complicated,” Lyla maintains her composed tone. “Complicated how?” Jess presses on. “Just...unfamiliar and intermingled genetic markers,” Lyla responds vaguely. “The child is an enigma.”

"Miguel, please" she continues, turning back to Miguel, clearly frustrated with Lyla's vague responses that are not helping her case. Her tone is still serious, "this isn't some variation of a monster, this is a baby."

For a moment, Miguel’s gaze flickers, his usual icy aura briefly wavering. "It doesn't matter," he finally grunts, closing his eyes as if to physically shut out the argument. Jessica's voice turns unexpectedly brittle. "I didn't join the Society to kill innocent kids."

Miguel clenches his jaw hard. "We do what we have to do for the greater good. No exceptions." Jessica takes a deep breath, her next words coming out almost in a whisper. "What if there was my Gerald or a version of your-" she begins, but is quickly cut off.

"DON’T. Don't even go there, Jessica" Miguel growls, his hand forming into a tight fist. "And why the hell is it still crying?"

Jessica's gaze softens slightly. "That child, that little boy, probably misses his parents. Parents who are going through hell right now, searching for their baby." Miguel's fist tightens further, a spark of something, maybe regret, guilt, flashing in his eyes. Jessica presses on trying one last time to convince him. "He was found in 586, right? Maybe we can reconnect with Su-"

"No," Miguel interrupts sharply, his voice a final command. “Until tomorrow morning, Jess,” he finally says in a low voice, putting an end to Jess’ outburst. “That’s all. You can leave now.”

There’s a heavy silence, where the only sound is Gabriel’s distant crying.

Jessica looks at Miguel, her gaze piercing. "Think about what you’re doing, Miguel," she whispers and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind her.

In the heart of the HQ, Margo sifts through the labyrinth of Lyla's concealed data. She uncovers a file that captures her attention – the baby's DNA results. "There you are," she mutters to herself, an air of triumph in her voice. As she opens the file, her eyes widen in disbelief, "Oh no…“

"What is it, Margo?" Gwen asks making her way over to Margo.

Margo's voice trembles slightly. "So, while looking through the hidden data, I found the baby's... there was a parental match."

Gwen's heart skips a beat. “I knew something was was off with Lyla. Of course she knows more. Well, who are the little guy's parents?"

Margo hesitates, then blurts out, "Miguel and Sunny."

Gwen stops dead in her tracks, her mind reeling. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

"The baby's mother is Sunny, and the father is Miguel," Margo reiterates, her voice steady.

Gwen eyes widen. "But... are you sure? I know Sunny's baby. I was there when baby Gabriel was born!“

"Yes, I'm sure. There were two parental matches for the baby in the spider DNA logs:Sun Spider and Spider-Man 2099. When was the last time you saw the baby, Gwen? Babies change quickly at that age." Margo confirms.

"Miguel and Sunny? That's not possible... how have we never noticed that there's something going on between those two?" Gwen's mind whirls with confusion.

"Oh, I noticed," Margo's voice holds a hint of smugness, "The way he was sneaking into her room at night? And the way he looked at her every time she set foot in a room, like a lovesick puppy. It was adorable. Wait, nobody else noticed?"

Gwen splutters, taken aback, "What? No, I... well, he's all 'we need to sacrifice ourselves to protect the multiverse. No more traveling for fun'" she imitates Miguel's voice with a teasing lilt, then she adds, "And Sunnys is literally the personification of a warm embrace."

Gwen's mind whirls but she continues, “ Woah, okay lets focus on the important part. I mean, I knew something was wrong with Lyla, but why... why would she do that?"

"There's more, Gwen," Margo says, her voice shaking slightly. "I found another thing in her data. It's... it's about how she's processing information."

Gwen frowns, "What do you mean?"

Margo takes a deep breath before explaining, "In simple terms, Lyla's been teaching herself new things. She's changing, growing beyond her original programming. Her code is self-evolving."

"And the data about the baby?" Gwen asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

Margo sighs, "She's been... twisting it, making the baby seem more dangerous than it actually is."

Gwen's mind reels with this new information, the world around her seeming to tilt. "But why?" she finally manages to ask. "Why would Lyla do this?"

"I don't know, Gwen," Margo admits. "But we need to find out and warn Miguel. And soon."

Meanwhile in Miguels office, the wailing becomes louder, almost as if piercing through the walls, trying to reach something, or someone. Miguel's face betrays his discomfort, as if the cries are tugging at his walls around his heart. There's a weight on his chest, something unidentifiable that makes it hard to breathe.

Suddenly Lyla’s holographic interface hums. She begins to show the outline various strategies for eliminating the child. Her voice, analtytic but almost cheerful, fills the room. “So, we could create a temporal displacement field, effectively erasing the child from existence. Or perhaps expose him to a slow-acting molecular destabilizer..."

"Based on the trial," she continues unfazed by Miguel’s lack of response. "the device should work as intended, wiping out any of its DNA and trace. Be like the anomaly never existed." There's a hint of satisfaction in her words.

Miguel, until now staring blankly at the wall, finally turns towards Lyla, his complexion pale and his eyes wide.

His insides twist painfully, the mere idea of bringing harm to this innocent child becoming now unbearable.

“Stop,” Miguel chokes out.

“Apologies, Miguel. We must consider all options for preserving the multiverse. You out of all people should know that,”Lyla retorts.

But something within Miguel snaps. His ice-cold distant facade crumbles. Rising abruptly, his chair clatters loudly onto the floor.

Without saying another word, he strides out of his office. “Miguel? Are you listening? Where are you going?” Lyla calls after him, but her words are unanswered in the empty room.

Walking down the hallway, Miguel slows down as he passes the room where the infant's cries come from. He pauses when he hears Miles' pleas inside.

“Little dude, if you stop crying promise I’ll get you some cool kicks. Maybe some baby Jordans? Please, please just stop crying,” Miles pleads, his voice sounding desperate and utterly exhausted.

After a moment hesitation, Miguel pushes open the door and steps into the room. His gaze, sterner than ever, as he takes in the scene: Miles looking near defeat, his energy spent trying to soothe the wailing child, his spider suit rumpled and hair disheveled.

"Enough," Miguel comms sharply.

Miles looks up from where he's been pacing with the baby, his eyes wide like he's just been caught stealing cookies from a jar. “You,” Miguel points at Miles, who is holding the still-crying baby. His voice booms with authority. “Put him down”

Miles, slightly dumbfounded, obeys and carefully lays the child down on his makeshift bed. “I need you to return to Earth 586. Get some of his belongings - toys, blankets, anything you can find," he orders, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"But Miguel--" Miles startsbut gets cut off immediately.

"Now," he says, his red eyes flashing dangerously. Miles opens the portal hastily and disspears to your universe.

The crying has subsided to whimpers, and Miguel finds himself kneeling next to the little one, who reaches out for him. As if on autopilot, Miguel’s hands scoop him up abruptly from the bed.

"Quiet, niño. "Miguel growls at him with a low and threatening tone. "I could just... do it right now." His irritation gets the better of him, and he bares his fangs at the little one. This sight shocks Gabriel into silence for a moment, his big, teary eyes widening at the sight.

But then, to Miguel's surprise, the baby breaks into a fit of giggles, the sound infectious and joyous.

Gabriel suddenly mimics Miguel, baring his own little teeth – two tiny milk teeth and the beginnings of baby fangs peeking from his gums, causing Miguel to stiffen in shock.

Caught off guard Miguel's hold slips and Gabriel lands back on the web-shaped bed with a bounce. The baby's laughter ends abruptly and is replaced once more with tears and cries.

Still in shock, Miguel stumbles back a step, but Gabriel's cries soon pull him back into the present. With a sigh, he picks up the little boy yet again andGabriel immediately snuggles into the crook of Miguel’s neck, his tiny arms winding tightly around his throat. Miguel swallows hard, unsure of what to do next.

Then, almost instinctively, he starts to hum a tune he thought he'd long forgotten. "Tú eres mi sol de la mañana, el sol que brilla..." His voice is barely audible, the words shaky. Gabriel's little body relaxes against him, a content sigh escaping his lips followed by a quiet yawn. He nuzzles closer to Miguel, his tiny breaths falling into sync with the rhythm of the song. "...alegra todo, mi corazón," Miguel coninues softly, his mind flooding with memories. He sees a bright, lively girl with the same curious eyes as the boy in his arms.

"Daddy," Gabriella asks, her large eyes bright with curiosity as she looks up at him, "why do you call me your morning sun? I'm not yellow."

Miguel chuckles at her innocence, his fingers gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. He cradles her against his chest, looking into those eyes so full of wonder. "No, mija" he replies, his voice soft with affection "you're not yellow but you are my sunshine."

"But why?" She wrinkles her little nose, her childish curiosity making Miguel's heart fill up with love.

"Because, mijita," he begins, pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, "just like the sun, you light up my world. You chase away the darkness with your laughter and your love. You are warmth, you are joy, and just like the morning sun, you are a new beginning, a promise of a brighter day."

Gabriella blinks up at him, her lips curving into a small, and she hides her smile in the crook of his neck. "I like that, Papi," she whispers, "Sing the song again, please?"

“brilla, conmigo, brilla que brilla, alegrandome esta cancion. Tu eres mi sol de la manana…“

Eyes closed, Miguel draws Gabriel unconsciously closer, his heart full, and for the first time he’s feeling a sense of contentment he hasn't experienced in years.

The moment is shattered by the sound of a throat being cleared, pulling him abruptly out of his peaceful trance.

Peter B is standing in the doorway, arms loaded with various dolls. "Wow, he's finally asleep," he remarks, looking between Miguel and the now sleeping Gabriel with a relieved smile. "I was starting to think that was impossible."

Without responding, or even sparing a glance in Peter's direction, Miguel turns away from the door and heads to the bed. He gently places the sleeping toddler down, pulling a small blanket over him. Once he's confident that Gabriel is settled, Miguel quietly leaves the room, his demeanor as frosty and aloof as ever, making no acknowledgment of Peter's presence.

Peter B is quick on his feet, rushing after Miguel. "I brought him toys from Mayday," he blurts out. "She won't miss them. She's not too good at sharing, but I guess she won’t mind in this case."

Miguel continues his stride, not giving Peter so much as a backward glance. "Que maravilla," he mutters under his breath, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Ignoring the dismissal, Peter B. reaches out and places a hand on Miguel's arm, stopping him in his tracks. Miguel raises an eyebrow and glances back at him half-heartedly, clearly not interested in a conversation.

Peter takes a moment, his gaze intensifying. "Hey, boss," he begins, his voice shaky yet determined. "We can't let anything happen to this boy, right?"

At Peter's words, Miguel closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.

Back on Earth 586, you're in the throes of a meltdown. Your little boy, Gabriel, is nowhere to be found. You've scoured the whole city of Nea Yorkey, every nook and cranny you can think of, but there's no trace of him anywhere. Desperation gnaws at your insides, and fury bubbles up, hot and fierce. Your mind is in turmoil, swirling with anger and fear, clouding your ability to think straight. One thing is crystal clear though: whoever dared to touch your child will pay dearly for their actions.

You're frantically trying to find a way to contact anyone from the Spider Society, while simultaneously considering every possible avenue to traverse the multiverse yourself. Alchemax - the multinational conglomerate known for its cutting-edge research and technological advancements - seems to be your only hope. As you're about to make your way there, a sound from Gabriel's room stops you in your tracks.

Your Spider senses, already on high alert due to the unexpected circumstances, seem to kick into overdrive. Every instinct within you screams that something is about to happen. Your heart pounds in your chest like a wild drum as you slowly approach the room.

Meanwhile, in Gabriel's room, Miles is having his own share of troubles. In his haste, he stumbles over a toy car that starts making an assortment of noises and brightly lit animations. "Ah, this stupid toy!" he curses under his breath.

A thought suddenly crosses his mind and he wonders aloud, "Wait, does he need a blanket?" Just as he's about to reach for a small bunny stuffed animal that lay discarded on the floor, an intense blast of sonic energy sweeps across the room.

Caught by surprise, Miles finds himself flung across the room, his back hitting the wall with a thud. Before he can even let out a gasp, a spider web shoots out, pinning him securely against the wall. There he hangs, suspended, his eyes wide with shock and confusion. His breath comes in shallow gasps as he attempts to comprehend what just happened. Well its safe to say he didn’t saw that coming.

Miles, still stuck against the wall, manages to blurt out, "Who are you?"

"Who am I?" you echo, incredulity lacing your tone. "You break into my son's room and ask me whoI am?"

Your mind races as Miles stammers, "Wait, your son's room? Wait, are you...are you a Spider-person aswell?"

Ignoring his question, you stride towards him, an aura of threat radiating off you. "Stop talking!" you command, "I ask the questions!" In your hand, a ball of solar energy forms, crackling with power and casting a glow across the room.

"Why are you here? Where is my son?" The words are more of a growl than a question, the motherly instincts in you sending waves of danger rippling across the room. "Your son is okay, please don't hurt me!" Miles pleads with a shaky fear laced voice.

Squirmy and visibly frightened, Miles stammers out his confession, "We-we took him...it was our mission... He's an anomaly...we needed to get him out of this universe, send him to his own, so it wouldn’t collapse and interfere with the multiverse...but he doesn't have one, and I'm so sorry..."

His voice dwindles to a murmur, words tumbling over one another in his haste. Amidst his ramblings, your icy inquiry slices through like a blade, "Who instructed you?"

A sharp wince contorts his face, betraying his fear. "Our boss..." he starts, his voice barely above a whisper, "Miguel... Miguel O'Hara."

The energy in your hand dissipates, leaving only shock in its place. It's almost too much to take in - the idea that Miguel, your Miguel, could have done something like this. "He's okay, we... we didn't know he was the son of a Spider-woman. I'm Miles Morales, by the way." he introduces himself, attempting to inject some normalcy into the situation.

"I'm Spider-Sun," you respond automatically, your voice sounding distant to your own ears.

"Wait … you?" Miles' eyes widen in recognition. "You're Sunny?" When you give a numb nod in response, he continues, "You look more like 'Stormy' if you ask me." Your gaze snaps to Miles, the intensity of your death glare immediately silencing his attempt at humour. "Sorry, sorry," he stammers, raising his hands in surrender. "I just...I've heard Gwen and Peter talk about you."

"They never stop talking about you," Miles continues, trying to regain his composure. "They always say you have such a radiant personality and how much they miss you. They take care of your son, don’t worry. Hes safe for now.”

"What do you mean he's safe 'for now'?" you cut him off abruptly, your voice cold and hard. Miles gulps nervously before responding.

"Eh...we have until morning to find a solution for this...anomaly," he stammers. You interrupt him, seething with a fury that makes him cringe. "My son's name is Gabriel. He is not an 'anomaly'," you spit out the words like they are poison, hating the way they make your sweet little boy sound like some kind of mistake.

"Eh, yes, for Gabriel," Miles corrects hastily, "because, eh... if we don't find an alternative, they need to, eh...eliminate..." He trails off, speaking so quickly and softly that you almost don't catch his last word.

"ELIMINATE?????" You scream and for a split second, Miles is sure he sees your eyes blaze with a terrifying, luminating light.

"We can stop them. We can talk to them and say it's your son," Miles says quickly, desperately hoping to calm you.

"I don't talk. Bring me to my son," you demand. Without wasting another moment, you order him to open the portal. "Y-yes, right away, Sunn... eh, Mrs. Sun, eh... Ma'am," he stammers, visibly trembling under your steely gaze.

It takes him two shaky attempts before he manages to successfully open the portal, his hands still unsteady from the encounter.

Back at the headquarters, Peter chases after Miguel into his office. "Boss, all I'm saying is, what if Lyla is wrong?"

Miguel is pinching the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping his lips. The weight of the situation is quickly becoming too overwhelming and he feels himself teetering dangerously close to his breaking point.

Just at that moment, Gwen, Pav, Margo and Hobie burst into the office, their faces set withdetermination. "Miguel, there’s something you need to know. Please hear us out. Margo and I, we found something.Lyla is - ," Gwen starts but Miguel is quick to silence her with a raised hand.

Just as Miguel is about to speak, the lights flicker, casting an ominous glow throughout the room. Hobie looks around nervously. "Is that eh...normal?"

Peter quirks an eyebrow. "Did you forget to pay the electricity bill?"

The lights flicker even more violently, plunging the room into a dance of shadow and light.

With a violent burst, the door is flung open, and a brilliant surge of light blinds everyone. You stand in the doorway, an ethereal aura glowing around you.

"O'Hara!" Your voice thunders through the room, heavy with wrath and revenge. As Miguel turns around to face the source of the sound, a massive, lightning-tinged sonar blast slams directly into his chest. He's pushed backward, knocked off balance before he can brace himself for the attack. He tries to recoverr, to shift into defense mode but he doesn't get the chance. You're relentless, a solar goddess in human form, hurtling blast after blast at him. Miguel has no time to regain his stance, each attack landing with more force than the last.

Gwen makes to step forward, her instincts screaming at her to intervene, but Peter grabs her arm, pulling her back. "That's Sunny," he says, his voice a mixture of awe and concern. Hobie's eyes widen comically. He cocks his head, a smirk playing on his lips. "Our Sunny, eh? Blimey, I never knew she had it in her. That rebellious firecracker," he mutters, a distinct note of admiration creeping into his typically laid-back British drawl.

Miles bursts into the room, breathless and disheveled. He stumbles towards Gwen, his voice hurried and concerned, "I tried to stop her, but she was...she was furious. Woahhh, I've never seen Miguel get beaten like this before."

And he wasn't exaggerating. Miguel was fighting back, his fangs bared, his claws out and ready but he was no match for your rage-fueled attacks. You were right up in his face, delivering punch after punch at a brutal pace

"Where's my son, O’Hara? What have you done to him?" you demand, your voice cutting through the chaos like a blade.

At your words, Miguel's movements falter. His defense wavers, and he barely manages to gasp out, "Your son?" He doesn't dodge your next blow, doesn't attempt to shield himself or strike back. Instead, he allows you to continue.

Miguel is shocked. His reflexes kick in as he sees the next punch coming and he grabs your wrist, halting your next powerful punch aimed for his face. He locks eyes with you, his gaze holding an emotion you've never seen in him before. Is it fear? No, it's much deeper, more profound.

As he stares at you, your luminescent eyes gradually lose their fiery intensity, shifting back to their human form.

"I... I didn't know," Miguel stammers, his voice a trembling whisper. "Lo – lo siento. I – I didn’t know.”

His breaths are ragged, and you can see a war waging inside him.

"But...how?How didn’t I know?" His voice is choked, your wrist still securely in his grip. “Your son?” Miguel continues,his voice is barely above a whisper. His eyes search yours and all he sees is raw, untamed anger with an aching pain that pierces his soul.

“Yes, MY son!” your voice echoes through the room like a whip. “Did you think that you could just take him from me? That I wouldn't come for him?”

Miguel’s grip on your wrist loosens as he stumbles back. His heart feels like it’s about to explode as realization dawns on him. The dark curls, the small fangs the baby had bared at him –pieces of a puzzle start falling into place. His own blood runs cold.

“Where is he, Miguel? Where’s myGabriel?” your voice breaks as you say the name, and it feels like another punch to Miguel's gut.

“Gabr...” Miguel chokes. “No... no...”

His voice is barely audible, the air knocked out of him by the significance of the name. His knees buckle, and he falls on the floor. "NO."

“You, who I thought would protect any child, wanted to eliminate my – our – flesh and blood!” Tears, full of anger and hurt, stream down your face, but your voice doesn't waver one bit.

Miguel, still on the floor, looks up at you with tear-streaked cheeks. “I didn’t know. I swear on my life, on Gabriella’s memory. I-I wanted to do the right thing. I- I never, -Lo siento.”

There’s a moment of tense silence as you look down at the shattered man before you,the love of your life, the father of your child, who almost made the most horrifying, unforgivable mistake.

Just then, from another room, the faint sound of a baby's cries pierce through the heavy atmosphere. You abruptly yank your wrist out of his grasp and towards the door to leave.

Your heart clenches as you break into a run, following the pitiful cries. You don’t look back.

Miguel remains on his knees. He doenst follow you, he doesn’t dare to move, anchored by the crushing weight of what he's done, as the sounds of Gabriel's cries fade into the background.

"Gabriel," he whispers, the name escaping his lips like a vow. A promise of redemption. And with that single word, Miguel knows he'll move heaven and earth to protect his child.

Part 4 "Webs of Redemption"

Hello, you wonderful souls! I want to say a big thank you for your patience and kind words about this series. I really appreciate each of your sweet comments and messages – they mean so much to me. Thank you all for the insightful ideas and suggestions you contributed for part 3. I've incorporated as many of your concepts as I could because they're simply brilliant. I'm eager to hear more of your thoughts, criticisms, and proposals for part 4. I also want to give a special thanks to Jess, @wolfjessedragon . Her inspiration and amazing ideas were the driving force behind Part 3, and I couldn't have written it without her! love you guys, keep being awesome!

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marvelsmylife · 2 months

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Damned if you do, damned if you don’t

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: After accidentally listening to your mate confess to his brothers that he thinks your clingy, you decided to give him space and discover who you are outside of your relationship. What happens when Azriel notices the distance between the two of you. Will he fix what he broke or will he make it worse.

Warning: Angst angst angst. Accusations of cheating. Azriel’s an ass by the end of this.

A/n don’t worry, I’m already planning on making a part two to this. I always try to have happy endings to all of my stories.

Part two Part Three Bonus Scene

ACOTAR Masterlist

Prompt list

She’s just- She's just very clingy. You were not supposed to hear the current conversation Azriel was having with his brothers. But that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to be hurt by what your mate was saying: “I just wish she would get a hobby or make friends outside of our inner circle. I feel like I can't go anywhere without her asking where I’m going or if she could tag along,” Azriel added and earned a disapproving look from Cassian.

“You don’t mean that,” Cassian argued back: “I would give anything for Nesta to want to spend that amount of time with me.”

It was no secret how complicated Cassian’s relationship with his mate. He’d vented to Azriel and Rhysand about his frustration with the current status of his and Nesta’s relationship. He told Azriel countless times how much he wished he had what you and Azriel had.

Not being able to stomach what your mate was saying about you, you disappeared into your bedroom and silently cried yourself to sleep.

The following morning, instead of waking up Azriel with breakfast in bed like you usually do, you decided to wander the streets of Velaris. In all the time you have lived in this city, you've never really explored it, only going to Rita’s, Rhysand's townhouse, and the river house.

You weren’t sure what you were looking for in particular, so you just decided to go with the flow and see where you ended up. You started with grabbing breakfast at a tiny restaurant you’ve probably passed a dozen times but didn’t notice until now.

Following that, you decided to shop to pass the time. You were ready to head home when you stumbled upon a dance studio. It was always your dream to be a dancer growing up, but seeing as your family was too poor for you to buy you lessons, your dream never got to be fulfilled. That was until today.

You contemplated if you wanted to enter the studio when a male stepped out of the building and asked: “Are you planning on signing up for classes?”

“No, no,” you shook your head as you wrapped your arms around your body: “I’ve never danced a day in my life, so I’ll probably make a fool of myself.”

The male let out a small laugh at your response: “Don’t worry, the morning classes are for beginners. Come, you can sit in during this class, and you could decide if you want to join after.”

You were about to decline his offer when the events from the night before flooded your mind again. She’s too clingy. She needs to get a hobby and make new friends. “You know what? Why not. I have nothing planned for the day,” you responded and followed the male into the dance studio.

It was lunchtime by the time the dance class was over, and you decided to sign up to start taking classes the following day. Everyone was so friendly to you, and you could tell the instructor was passionate about teaching others how to dance. That inspired you to sign up to take classes for a month and see where you go from there.

Throughout the class, though, you felt Azriel tug on the bond. Which was strange because he’d never done that before. You would reciprocate just to let him know you were ok.

As soon as you left the studio, you decided to stop by Rhysand’s townhouse to see Feyre and Nyx. To your surprise, everyone was there, including Azriel, who was currently playing with Nyx. This was strange because Azriel and Cassian usually spent most of their day training the Valkyrie.

“Y/n !” Feyre squealed with excitement as she ran to greet you.

Azriel’s immediately looked over at you. He wanted to go towards where you were so he could ask where you went in the morning, but Nyx forbade him from leaving where he was. So, instead, he had to hear you tell everyone what you were up to.

“That’s amazing !” Feyre smiled. She knew about your dream of being a dancer and has been trying to convince you to take classes with the money Rhysand has been paying you.

After spending an hour catching up with everyone, you told them you had to pick up a few things for your first day. “I promise I’ll come straight here after my first class to tell you how it went,” you promised while grabbing your things.

Azriel was surprised when you started walking towards the front door without asking him if he wanted to go with you. “Um, would you like for me to accompany you?”

“No, thank you,” you replied without looking at him: “But thank you for offering.”

While you were hurt by what Azriel confessed to his brothers, you weren't going to be rude towards him for his own feelings.

Everyone glanced at Azriel, puzzled because you always wanted Azriel’s company when you went out, especially if it involved shopping. “Is everything ok between you and y/n? She always wants you to go shopping with her, mainly so you can carry her bags, but still,” Mor asked.

“I don’t know,” Azriel replied honestly: “Last time I checked, we were doing ok.”

Cassian wanted to make a snide comment about the conversation they had the night before, but he kept his mouth shut.

That became your routine for the next six months. You woke up, went to dance classes, and either hung out with the new friends you made at dance class or spent time at the river house. As much as Azriel’s words hurt you, you could not help but thank him. If it wasn't for him, you would not be doing what you loved and creating so many new friendships.

Throughout that time, though, Azriel noticed you were pulling away from him. He missed waking up to you making him breakfast in bed. He missed when you would pester him about details of his day, but most of all, he missed your constant physical contact.

While you haven’t completely stopped touching him, he noticed you stopped sitting so close to him that you were basically on top of him. He also noticed you’ve stopped inviting him to go anywhere with you and stopped asking if you could tag along whenever he would go into town.

He was growing worried you were falling out of love with him or worse, you were cheating on him.

He knew your dance instructor was a male and grew paranoid that you were cheating on him with your instructor. “She’s not cheating on you Az. She loves you too much to do that to you,” Rhysand reassured Azriel.

“I would have believed you if you would have said that six months ago,” Azriel hid his face in his hands: “But she’s a completely different person now. She barely touches me anymore. The last time we had sex was over a month ago. I’m going crazy, and she doesn’t even care.”

Cassian couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Azriel’s comment: “Sex isn’t everything you know. Have you tried talking to her about this?”

“It is if we used to do it at least once a day, and to answer your question, no, I haven’t because she’s never home. She’s been at that dumb dance studio rehearsing for a recital they’re having tomorrow.”

“Instead of complaining about her dancing, why don’t you go to the recital to support her. Just because you think it’s dumb doesn’t mean it’s not important, especially to her,” Rhysand advised.

As much as Azriel didn’t want to, he did what Rhysand suggested and went to your dance recital the next day. He showed up with a big bouquet of roses that earned some stares from strangers in the audience. He didn’t care. He was there for you and only you.

And he was so happy he ended up going. He watched in awe as you danced so elegantly across the stage. He mentally cursed himself for calling what you were doing dumb because watching you dancing made him fall in love with you all over again. By the time the recital was finished, Azriel had a speech about how proud he was of you and how amazing you looked dancing on stage.

Unfortunately, right as he was about to approach you after the recital ended, your instructor pulled you into a hug and spun you around.

Azriel was fuming and threw the roses he bought for you on the floor before stocking over to where you were: “Azriel. You-”

You didn’t have a chance to finish before Azriel ripped your instructor off of you and started punching him.

“Azriel ! ! !” You yelled at your mate as he punched your instructor repeatedly.

It took six male faes to finally remove Azriel from your instructor. “I’m sorry y/n. You are a phenomenal student, but you can not attend my classes anymore. You and your mate are banned,” your instructor said before storming away.

You felt your heart break at the news you were given and found yourself dropping to the floor. To Azriel’s credit, he immediately regretted his actions and tried to comfort you: “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t,” you glared at your mate and started getting up: “How could you do this to me. You knew how important dancing was to me, and now you got me banned from the place I started to call home.”

“I’m your home ! ! !” Azriel yelled defensively: “I barely see you anymore because you spend all your time at that dumb dance studio. I just want my mate back!”

You let out a dry laugh at Azriel’s comment: “I was just giving you exactly what you wanted. For me to not be so damn clingy all the time. I found a hobby and made friends, but now you ruined it.”

Azriel stiffened at your words. He remembered the night he said those horrible words and the harsh words both Cassian and Rhysand had said to him afterward. They made him realize what he had with you was unique, and he should cherish every moment he had with you because tomorrow was never guaranteed, especially for them. He just didn’t know you overheard him say those things: “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-”

“Save it. I can’t even look at you right now,” you inhaled sharply: “I’m going to stay with a friend for a few nights. Don’t worry, it’s not my instructor. Our friendship is clearly done after the stunt you just pulled.” You started walking away but turned around to add: “He’s gay, by the way. He has a partner and a beautiful son they adopted three years ago.”

And just like that, the weight of Azriel’s actions hit him as he watched you walk away.

@byyalady @sheblogs @janebirkln @starsinyourseyes @cumuluscranium @honeybee54321

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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iiping · 10 months

Text

kaveh snapping at alhaitham for buying another ugly wood carving… except he forgot it was his birthday 👀

read my short fic on twitter here or see more below! 🫶

—

“This looks absolutely nothing like me!” Kaveh snaps at the rough-out Aranara carving that suddenly shows up one morning, looking so blonde and angry.

Alhaitham comes out of his room at this moment and walks over to their common shelf where the architect stands.

Kaveh has a meeting with a particularly frustrating client today and he’s feeling so anxious that he cannot help but snaps at Alhaitham too, “How many times do I have to tell you not to bring ugly wood carvings into our home!?”

Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, his lips tightens. Something unfathomable flashes across his eyes and disappears just as suddenly.

“Do whatever you want with it then,” Alhaitham says finally after an awkward silence. Then he grabs his key from the shelf and turns his back to walk towards the front door without saying another word.

Kaveh looks at him leaving the house in puzzlement. It is not a rare occasion to see the Scribe not bothering to argue with him but Alhaitham never walks away after saying only one sentence before. He looks as if he’s angry or even…pouting? Kaveh is not sure if that word can describe Alhaitham.

Maybe Kaveh did something wrong? He gasps at the thought.

Is it because the smell of the cream soup he made yesterday was too strong? Or maybe it was the fact that the house is now so messy because he’s in the middle of tidying up things? Or maybe he moved or touched some books he wasn’t supposed to?

Kaveh ends up thinking for the whole day. He even spaces out during the client’s meeting and almost drops the model when he tries to present his plan.

He thinks and thinks but nothing comes to his mind. They have been on unusually pretty good terms lately, so he cannot think of something recent that might have made Alhaitham upset.

Kaveh is so deep in thought he almost bumps into Collei on the way home.

“Ah! Sorry!” Kaveh exclaims then realizes who it is, “Collei! I didn’t know you were in town today!”

Somehow, the trainee Forest Ranger looks shocked to see him. She quickly picks up something that fell to the ground when they bumped into each other earlier. Kaveh catches a glimpse of a small green box with yellow ribbon before Collei swiftly hides it behind her back.

“It’s so good to see you! Wanna grab something to eat?” Kaveh asks, ignoring her suspicious behavior. He’s not ready to go home just yet, not when he still hasn’t figured out what he did wrong.

“Uh, sorry I have somewhere to be today,” Collei replies nervously, avoiding to meeting his eyes, “If you will excuse me, I really need to get going.”

Then she takes off before he can say another word.

Kaveh ruffles his hair in confusion. What is going on today?

After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he decides that he has no other place to go except the good old Lambad’s Tavern.

He sits down at a table and orders a drink even though it’s merely 5PM.

“Hey, Kaveh!” Lambad shouts his name from behind the counter, “That one’s on the house! Happy Birthday!”

Oh. Shit.

A realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

“How could I forget!” he cries, standing up abruptly, “It is my birthday!”

He tells Lambad that he’ll take a raincheck on that glass of wine before leaving the tavern. Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can and finds Alhaitham standing in front of the shelf with the Aranara carving on one hand and a bag on another.

Alhaitham raises his eyebrows when he sees Kaveh practically flying from the front door.

“No, wait—-“ Kaveh tries to catch his breath, “D-don’t throw that away!”

“Oh?” Alhaitham puts down the Aranara and turns to face the architect. “Seems like you finally remember something.”

“Sorry for what I said this morning,” Kaveh blurts out, “I know it sounds like an excuse but that client’s project kept me frustrated all night and I shouldn’t have taken it on you.”

Alhaitham looks at him silently.

“Alright, alright,” Kaveh puts two hands in the air, “I apologize for calling it ugly.”

The Scribe lets out a chuckle right this second. It is clear that he does not intend put up any fights with Kaveh on his birthday.

Alhaitham hands him the Aranara in question and asks, “Will you also stop calling my other wood carvings ugly?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaveh replies with a beaming smile. His eyes light up as he takes the wooden figure in his hands.

Alhaitham gives him birthday presents every year but they are usually books or drafting tools. This is the first time Kaveh has received something custom-made. Well, from anyone, really.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning,” he mumbles, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. “Sure, it looks a bit cruder than that one in your bedroom which I kind of like, but the more you look at it, the mor—- Hey!”

“I changed my mind,” Alhaitham announces with a straight face, the Aranara is now back to his hand. “I’m taking it back.”

Kaveh blinks.

“What did you just say!?” he raises his voice.

“I don’t see any reasons why it should be in the possession of someone who doesn’t appreciate it,” he replies simply while putting the wooden figure in the bag, then starts to walk to the entrance hall.

“How do you know I don’t appreciate it!?” Kaveh follows him, trying so hard not to yell at his back, “This is ridiculous! You just gave it to me literally a second ago!”

That does not make Alhaitham slow down one bit. In the heat of the moment, Kaveh charges at him without thinking.

Next thing he knows, they are both on the floor with Alhaitham being beneath him. He quickly snatches the bag from the Scribe’s hand and sits up.

“Ha!” Kaveh exclaims, raising it in the air in victory. “You cannot walk away from me this time! Don’t you know that it’s rude to take back what you have given!?”

When there isn’t any response, Kaveh glances down, only to see that Alhaitham is covering his face laughing.

Kaveh looks at this scene in disbelief.

“Were you just teasing me!?” he asks with a high-pitched voice, “Oh my god, who are you? What have you done to my Alhaitham?”

“I couldn’t help,” he is still laughing, “You should’ve seen your face.”

It’s extremely rare for Kaveh to see a silly side of Alhaitham, let alone seeing him laughing like this. Kaveh stares dazedly at him, completely forgetting why he was mad in the first place.

“You can have the Aranara,” Alhaitham says with a smile, “Will you get off me now? Although I don’t really mind—-”

Kaveh interrupts this sentence with a cough, just realizing what a dangerous position they are in. He shifts to move out of the way, but at this moment, a small piece of paper falls of the bag and lands on Alhaitham’s chest.

The Scribe’s eyes widen as he moves to reach for it, but Kaveh is quicker.

Seeing what’s on there, he is speechless.

Alhaitham covers his face again, but his ears are turning visibly red. The worse thing is, Kaveh can also feel his face burning too.

“You carved this,” he asks softly, “for me?”

After a while, Alhaitham admits with a sigh, “Yes.”

Kaveh is dumbfounded. He assumed that it was merely a commission. Never has he ever thought Alhaitham would go that far to do something like this for him.

“That’s why you’ve been coming home late for the past week!” Kaveh just remembers how unusual it was when he said that he needed to work overtime.

“You knowing this wasn’t part of the plan, I was too careless.” he says flatly and decides to pull himself up, unintentionally getting closer to Kaveh. “Now it’s good time for you to forget you have seen that workshop receipt.”

“Nuh-uh,” Kaveh pokes his chest, “This Aranara is now worth a million mora to me.”

“You have just burdened yourself with a new enormous debt then” Alhaitham teases.

“Hey!”

“I think wood craving has grown on me.” Alhaitham smiles, “So I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with these ugly figurines for now.”

“Come on, they are not that ugly,” Kaveh chuckles, “But we do need to set up a proper corner for them so they don’t disrupt the current aesthetic.”

The Scribe can’t help but roll his eyes at this comment.

“Seriously though, thank you” Kaveh softly touches his shoulder and looks directly into his eyes, “It’s the first time someone did something so special for me. I will always treasure it.”

The Scribe stares back at him and without a warning, Alhaitham pulls him into his arms and whispers to his hair, “Happy Birthday, Kaveh.”

After that, Collei, along with Cyno and Tighnari, burst open their front door right when they are still hugging in the hallway. Kaveh’s face turns as red as a tomato as Alhaitham helps him up on his feet.

The night cannot be more perfect. The house is filled with the smell of good food, laughers and joy. His most favorite dishes are laid out on the table and the gifts are waiting for him to open. Wine never tastes better and even Cyno’s jokes are funnier than usual.

Kaveh watches as everyone starts to eat and cheerfully discuss about what games they are going to play tonight. His heart aches a bit thinking of how much he does not want to ever lose this; his friends, his happiness, his home.

And when his eyes accidentally meet with Alhaitham’s, he cannot help but wonder, would things turn out differently if he hadn’t met the Scribe at the tavern that night where he had taken Kaveh in?

He tries harder now to stay happy, to actually listen to some of Alhaitham’s advice, the sensible ones at least.

“Don’t burden yourself with something unnecessary from the past and from the future”, he would say.

So instead of dwelling on the past regrets and unknown future, Kaveh thinks he is ready now to find comfort in the present happiness.

(END)

#happy birthday kave uwuwuwuwuw #the love of my life #genshin impact #kaveh #myart #alhaitham #kavetham #haikaveh fic #kavetham fic #mywriting #haikaveh #haikavetham #just realized i spelled kaveh wrong in the first tag like wat

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pandoraslxna · 9 months

Note

could u write a fic where lo’ak is edging the reader so she gets kinda frustrated and storms off so the rest of the day lo’ak is teasing her and making fun of her for getting mad but she gets back at him by edging him so much that he cries🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Want, get, have.

adult Lo‘ak x female metkayina reader

Words: 5.2k

Summary: Lo‘ak takes advantage of the little crush he knows the olo’eyktan’s spoiled daughter habors for him. That is, until you finally decide to get payback for all his teasing.

Warnings: explicit smut, edgeplay, Lo‘ak is kinda mean and maybe out of character here, minimal dub/con warning because he’ll get tied up later, p in v, handjob, oral / face sitting, cowgirl position, dirty talk, crying, begging, degradation & praise kink, orgasm denial, obsession, spit kink, switch!Lo‘ak, creampie

Notes: sorry this took forever, I hope you like it 🩵

Na’vi translation:

paskalin = honey

At first, it was a rumour.

To be more specific, it was the kind of rumour that was grounded close enough to reality that he could see it happening, but not so close that a skeptic could take it at face value, no matter how hard Kiri swore it was legit. Because, see, she heard it from Rotxo who'd heard it from your brother Ao’nung and therefore it must be true. There was no real reason to put any stock in this particular story over, but Lo‘ak couldn't help but be curious. He spent days going back and forth on whether or not he should investigate, but after the fifth, "Hey bro, did you hear...?", he knew he wouldn't be able to get any peace of mind if he didn't. And when it turned out to be true, Lo‘ak couldn’t believe his luck.

The spoiled little brat of the olo’eyktan really had a crush on him. Him, of all people.

As the chiefs daughter, you were accustomed to getting what you wanted.

It wasn't even a matter of being selfish… it was just a habit at this point. Want, get, have. You were spoiled, that’s what it was. It wasn't that difficult to get.

And Lo‘ak knew difficult. Even as a son of an olo’eyktan himself, he had to struggle to get where he was. A better portion of his childhood was difficult, growing up in war, always living under his older brothers shadow. An outcast, a four fingered freak, neither really belonging to his own people nor those aliens from another star, and most definitely not to the metkayina clan. No, Lo‘ak was far from being spoiled.

So what was he supposed to do, when you approached him for the very first time, thinking that batting your pretty long lashes was enough for him to fall to your knees like everyone else would’ve? Exactly! Reject you.

The downright confused look on your beautiful, flawless face was more than just priceless to him, as you struggled to understand that for the first time in your life, you were denied to have something that you wanted.

The flower of his mischievous plan blossomed just shortly after, when you came over to his marui in the morning with freshly picked fruit for breakfast. And then again, when your offerings turned a little more… personal.

Sucking him off, down at the shore. Or when you gave him a handjob after coming back from a hunt with your brother Ao’nung. Nothing has ever fed his ego as much as having a sweet thing like you following him around, practically acting as his shadow. Obsessed, that’s what you were. You became obsessed with him, craving for attention from the one thing you couldn’t have.

And Lo‘ak loved it. The more he denied you, the more you wanted him. But the best part of it all was, when you spread your pretty, smooth, cyan legs for him.

"Look at the mess you’ve made", Lo‘ak tsks, stroking his slick covered dick right over the mound of your pussy. "Got my whole cock drenched. You‘re really that desperate, huh?"

Your chest heaves, breathing rapid, and you’re struggling to collect yourself from the intense orgasm that was so harshly ripped away from your grasp, just as it was about to shatter your whole being.

"Lo‘ak, Lo‘ak please–"

A low chuckle vibrates in his chest, as he furiously pumps his cock with one hand, while fumbling your breast with the other.

"Please, Lo’ak, please", he mocks your tone with a fake pout and then pinches your nipple, before he rolls it between his thumb and index finger. He tugs on the sensitive bud, then asks sternly, "Please, what?"

"I need to come", you hiccup, your glassy eyes being a clear indication that you were actually close to sobbing from desperation. "Let me come, please. I- I was so close!"

"No."

Lo‘ak had lost count on how many times this had happened by now. How many times he had you in every possible position; bend over, under him, on top of him, laying, standing, sitting, on your knees… but he had never granted you that sweet release before. Not that he wasn’t able to, oh no. He had you on the verge of crying, eyes rolling back into your skull, with trembling legs and drool running down your chin like a fucked out little doll within minutes. But he made it his personal goal to finish first. Even if that meant for him to pull out of the delicious, wet heat that enveloped his cock, just to fuck his fist instead and spill himself onto your chest, stomach or wherever he preferred.

As unsatisfying as that might be, the sight in front of him made it all worth it. You were a mess. A begging little brat, too spoiled to handle being denied not only of his love and affection, but also of your orgasms. It was perfect.

You were just so adorable, trying to regain your composure on wobbly legs, once you realized that all that begging and pleading wouldn’t get you very far with him. And then when you pouted, crossing your arms over your chest, like a toddler throwing a tantrum, and stormed off in frustration, it made it all so much better. If that was even possible.

But no matter how insanely mad he was driving you, you just couldn’t stay away from him for long. Not even when Lo’ak so bluntly teased you for your behavior, mocking your pleads, whispering them into your ear as you sat on his lap. Or when he called you spoiled, a brat, his dumb little doll so boldly in front of your friends, not caring for the way your cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. It was only a matter of time for that unbearable tension in your core, an almost animalistic urge for release, to melt you from the inside out, and until you were trying to sweet talk your way back into his loincloth, unable to keep your hands to yourself.

Whatever this odd situation was, Lo‘ak was truly enjoying playing with you like this. Maybe even a little too much.

Unbeknownst to him however, you grew more frustrated with every passing day and every orgasm he robbed you of. So much so, that at one point, you just couldn’t help yourself anymore. Enough was enough, you decided.

There’s a pinch to the soft apple of his cheek that makes Lo‘ak stir awake abruptly from the little nap he had decided to take earlier.

He sighs softly. The sun was still shining bright through the leaves of a big palm tree, blinding his eyes. Lifting a hand to shield the sun away, he’s pulled up short by something around his wrists. Immediately, the fog in his mind begins to clear as he tugs on the restraints locking his arms together over his head.

Hearing your lighthearted giggle sends a wave of goosebumps all over his body, and Lo‘ak blinks a few times for his eyes to adjust to the brightness, before he opens them slowly.

Lifting his head to look down on himself, he’s met with the sight of you, cyan skin glistening in the warm sunlight, kneeling between his spread thighs.

"Good morning, sleepyhead", you coo softly, but Lo‘aks ears fold themselves against his head, his eyebrows pulling together in visible confusion. He then pulls against whatever is tied around his wrists again, testing the strength of his restraint. It’s tight and rough on his skin, but it doesn’t hurt. At least not yet. Whatever it is, it feels suspiciously like the woven cord of a fishing net.

They may not have been designed for this, but they still work pretty well and can also withstand a lot of force without tearing- especially like this, tying Lo’ak to a tree, with no real leverage or enough room to move his hands freely or use just an ounce of his actual strength.

And they ensure that you would get the perfect view of Lo‘ak; with his muscular thighs spread wide and his loincloth lazily hanging over his most priced possession. Just one tug on the right string and it would fall off. You couldn’t help taking a moment to appreciate him like this, entirely constrained, leaving him so open and so vulnerable to whatever you would choose to do to him.

"What are you doing?", Lo‘ak huffs out a laugh, but his voice carries more than a hint of nervousness.

Again, you giggle. Scooting closer, you let your hands run over his chest, all the way up to his neck and over his shoulders, feeling the tension in his muscles. He‘s already so on edge, it makes heat spread in your core.

"You know, I always get what I want, forest boy", you innocently smile up at him, dainty fingers running down over his pecks and to his waist, where his loincloth sits. "And what I want, is you."

Once untied, the neatly woven cloth falls off of him slowly and the omatikaya sucks in a sharp breath. You don’t hesitate to reach out for him, giving his already half hard cock an experimental stroke to feel him stir alive.

"But you’ve been so mean to me, Lo‘ak", you put on a fake pout and then sigh, "You leave me with no choice but to simply take what I want."

Lo‘ak‘s scoff that follows tells you more than enough.

"Oh, yeah? You’re gonna take what you want, like the spoiled little brat that you are? Go on then", he grins, watching you stroke his cock until he was fully hard, standing proud and tall in your palms.

It’s cute, you think. How oblivious he is to the situation he’s in. But by Eywa, you will enjoy every second of it, truly make it up for all the times he didn’t let you come.

Lo‘ak felt the pleasure building in his lower abdomen when your hand tightened just slightly around his cock. You twist your hand on the upward stroke, your thumb teasing the slit on his tip before you let him lazily thrust into your fist, just once.

Fingers sliding over his length and up the underside of his cock, you work him slowly but surely, drawing out a low moan that Lo’ak tried, but failed, to disguise as a curse, before shifting to a faster pace.

It’s no surprise to him how good you are at this. Just thinking about your heavenly handjobs had him rock hard and seeking you out during the most random times a day, thats how damn good they were.

As you let spit pool in your mouth and then dribble onto the mushroom-like tip, Lo’ak throws his head back in bliss at the new sensation, panting fast and heavy through parted lips. Your hands continue to slide down his cock to circle around the base, stroking him firmly.

"Oh fuck, that’s it. Keep going, baby, I’m close already", Lo‘ak mutters under his breath, eyes squeezed shut to focus all of his senses on the pleasure you provide. You feel his cock throb in your palms, clear droplets of pre-cum joining your spit and serving as lubricant to make your strokes become more fluidly.

"J-Just like that", he breathes out, his hips raising up to fuck into your fist, "G-Gonna come, haa– fuck, fuck!"

"Some metkayina men would kill for this, you know", you remark with a mischievous smile, "And you get it for free."

Lo‘ak doesn't respond to that, but that’s okay. You don’t expect him to. His mind is drawing blank and he begins to feel a nervous excitement, a pressure in his ribcage, making it harder for him to breathe properly. Heat boils in his core and his breathing hitches when you move your hand faster, harder.

You watch his hands flex, pulling at the restraining cords around his wrists and his toes curl as he nears the edge of his climax.

"Almost there, Lo‘ak", you coo, "You’re so close aren’t you? Does it feel good, hm? You like that?"

"Yes, yes,– fuck, yes! So good, so fucking good", he moans, before lifting his head up as much as he can to watch you from his current position, already imagining how pretty you will look when he comes, spilling his cum onto your face and chest.

But the sweet bliss he was chasing so desperately was suddenly ripped away from him entirely, when both of your hands leave his cock abruptly. It causes him to gasp like you just stole the very air from his lungs.

"N-No! No, what- what are you doing!?", Lo‘ak curses, his head falling back against the soft sand. "Why did you stop?" His chest heaves and his cock visibly throbs in the air, even more pre-cum leaking from it’s tip now that it’s all swollen and purple, begging for relief.

"And here I thought I was the spoiled one", you say cheerfully, "but look at you. You’re such a mess, and all that just because I didn’t let you get what you wanted…"

Lo‘ak frowns, taking in your words, but then you move as if you’re going to touch him again, and his hips rise towards your hand, instinctively bucking up for the friction he’s been denied.

You giggle at the pathetic sight of him trying to reach your hands, simultaneously struggling against his restraints, before his body falls slack, laying back flat against the sand.

Lo‘ak tries and fails to bite back a small, heartfelt whimper of frustrated need. His cheeks are flushed bright red by now. He really looks cute when he’s frustrated like this, you think to yourself, before you actually reach down and give him a firm tug.

Another moan falls from his lips at the unexpected touch, but it soon turns into more whining when you begin to move your hand in an up and down motion, picking up the same pace where you had left earlier. Lo‘ak slowly begins to squirm underneath your touch, his abs flexing with every stroke of your palms and his thighs twitch. A thin layer of sweat makes his lean body shine in the sunlight, as your restless pace sends his mind into overdrive.

"C-Coming", he forces out between broken whimpers, "m‘coming, m‘coming!"

You feel how he stirs in your palm and right when he’s about to fall apart, you pull your hand away yet again, earning yourself a loud groan of desperation. "What the— f- ah! Fuck", he whines and curses at the loss of another orgasm, squirming when the feeling of euphoria epps away once more.

"I need to come, I really need to come", he nearly sobs when your fist closes around his shaft not shortly after. You’re barely moving now, just teasing the slit of his cock with your thumb, smearing his pre-cum over his most sensitive parts. "Don’t stop now, please. I- I was so close, baby. Please I‘m already begging, I just… Let me come this time." Your fingers ghost over his length before you properly hold him again, hand closing tight around his shaft and his hips jerk up in attempt to help him get there.

"So needy", you whisper, scooting even closer as your hand continues to pump his throbbing length. You’re close enough now that your lips brush over his jawline and he inhales a shaky breath once your face comes close to his. Lo‘aks eyes are half lidded as he stares at you, lips slightly parted before you give him the command, "Open up, pretty boy", to which he dutifully sticks his tongue out and both of your eyes follow the clear droplet of spit fall from your tongue onto his.

Humming in satisfaction, you watch him swallow, groaning at the taste, while you move your hand just a little faster. Call it a little treat for his obedience.

With your other hand now resting on his cheek, you swipe your thumb across Lo‘aks lips, wiping away a stray smear of drool, partly yours and partly his own.

"This is mine", you whisper directly into his ear, tracing the outline of his mouth, and Lo‘ak nods frantically. Kissing away his groan of frustration, you allow him to fuck into your hand for three tantalising, torturous thrusts. His tongue curls around yours, but then you pull away again. "And this", you squeeze his cock tightly, movements haltering and he whimpers, "is mine too, isn’t it?"

Lo‘ak nods for a second time, heavy-lidded and languid and just so desperate in a way he’s never been before.

"And I can do what I want with what’s mine, right?", you tilt your head playfully, amused at the sight of him lifting his head and chasing your lips for another kiss.

"Fuck. Y-Yes!", he whines when all you grant him is a little peck to his bottom lip. "Yes, you can do what you want with me, just please. Please let me come!"

Waiting for his breathing to even out, you finally begin to move your hand again. While you do so, your face nuzzles into his neck, lips tracing his jawline and then moving further up to nibble at the soft shell of his ear. His tail lashes against the ground in anticipation and soon, he’s turned into a moaning mess again. It takes significantly less time to get him close to an orgasm now, you notice. A sharp grin forms on your face as you prop yourself onto your elbows to watch him properly.

"So good, feels so good", Lo’ak’s moans are more quiet now, almost a whisper, like he was scared of being caught. But you felt him pulse in your hand, and his breath hitched hard and that’s all you needed to know.

"Wait– No, no, pl-ah! Please!", Lo’aks whole body seized when the warmth of your touch leaves his cock and yet another orgasm was ruined, leaving him a trembling, cursing mess.

"Oh, c’mon", his frustrated groan immediately turns into a heartbreaking whine, once you retreat your hands entirely. Forced to watch you lick your fingertip clean of his pre-cum, he tugs against his restrains, "I- I want to fuck you, mamas, please. Wanna fuck you so bad. Just let me. I‘ll be so good for you, I’ll make you scream, yeah? I know that’s what you want. Just please. Please, please, I prom—"

"Shhh, it’s okay", you coo into his ear, calming him down enough to make him stop resisting his cuffs. "You’re gonna be good for me, yes? Gonna make me come this time?"

"Oh Eywa, yes. Yes, I- I promise", he stutters, the impatience clear in the strain of his voice, "Untie me, c‘mon, baby."

"Untie you? Oh don’t be silly, paskalin." Your giggle alone is enough to make him shudder, as if his body already knew what his mind was still struggling to process, his brows furrowing as he watched you undress.

"But I thought- I thought you wanted me to—"

"Hmh, I know what I said", you cut him off and the smile on your lips is almost too sweet to be true, "And you will make me come this time. I know it, because I’ll make sure it‘ll happen."

And then you rise up, leg slung over his chest to straddle him, and his hazy golden eyes darken with intrigue. Still, he lies motionless, waiting. Sliding closer and rising up on your knees, you smirk as Lo‘ak lifts his head just slightly, licking his lips at the sight, before falling back to the sand with a put-upon groan.

"Watch the teeth, yes?", you tease him, tracing your thumb over his pointy canine to which he rolls his eyes.

"Just- fucking sit down, sit on my face, c‘mon", he groans in response. His hips seem to have a mind on their own, because you feel them raise up and thrust into the air, his cock desperately seeking attention.

Twining a hand into his hair, you then angle his head between your legs and finally sink down over him.

A warm puff of breath, and then his tongue flicks over your folds, a tickling caress. A delicate kiss, and then he sets to work.

The quickly cooling saliva against your hot skin gives a pleasant sensation, and Lo’ak uses his tongue to part your folds. You squirm and pant beneath him, voice cracking as you attempt to voice your approval. He curves his tongue into a point, flicking and kissing at your most sensitive parts and you begin to shake above him, all needy moans and senseless affirmations, hips rocking down to meet his mouth.

Soon enough, you grind against the flat of his tongue, his nose and the upper half of his face like you’re riding a damn pali. The rest of him lies supine, but his tongue and lips move in practiced tandem, his purrs of satisfaction running through you in turn. “Hmm, just like that", you sigh, hand tightening in his braided hair, the other dropping behind you to steady yourself against his chest.

"You’re so damn delicious", Lo‘ak groans underneath you, the vibration of it sending waves of pleasure from your core all the way up your spine, your tail trashing and curling while he slurps up your slick arousal like it’s warm honey. It’s like he’s making out with your clit at one point and you can’t help but hump against his puckered lips. You throw your head back when he begins to suck rather harshly, his spine curving and twisting uncomfortably to meet your needs, but he couldn’t care less in this moment.

Normally he’s all teeth and bite, fangs grazing your skin and nipping on the inside of your thighs, sinking into your soft flesh until glossy, wet bite marks indent. Teasing you whenever you struggled to cover them up, and on some days, gladly taking a fight with Ao’nung once your loincloth moves around too much and your big brothers gaze lands on the faint marks on your inner thigh, claiming you to the forest boy that was playing with you like you’re nothing but a little doll. (Oh, how the table had turned…)

But right now he’s messy, filthy and sloppy and eating you out like he was starving. Flat nose pressed hard against your clit, he switched between tongue-fucking you and lapping at your clit, sucking the little bundle of nerves like he’s aiming to make you pass out.

"Yes, fuck, there– right there!"

Lo‘ak hums in acknowledgement, and then you give a last, sharp cry, hips jerking down against his face as you fall apart on top of him. Between your thighs, you feel him groan and curse and you hear the downright obscene slurping, like he enjoys drowning in your sweet juices. You stay put for as long as your body allows, floating in the endorphin high of the long awaited orgasm you had chased and been denied for weeks now, until your legs begin to tremble and the kitten licks to your clit start to feel a little overwhelming.

Lo‘ak draws in a shuddering breath as soon as he was able to, and it turns into a moan halfway through as your hand was back on his hair, fingertips digging into his scalp as you slowly lift yourself up from his now glistening face. With an equally heaving chest, the both of you look into each others eyes for a moment, panting heavily to catch your breaths.

But while your breathing slowly evens, his seems to turn more rapid. Glancing over your shoulder, your met with a sight that almost makes you feel pity if it wouldn’t look so damn hot.

His cock had leaked so much pre-cum, a small puddle had formed where he laid against his lower stomach, twitching to the rhythm of his heartbeat, the tip an angry color of purple from being edged and then completely ignored, neglected of any touch and further stimulation.

"Please", Lo‘ak heaves in a breathless whisper and you thought there was more to come, but that’s all he seemed to be capable of anymore.

Your orgasm had already drained you to the point that you felt like molten wax, limbs still twitching with the aftershocks, yet you don’t hesitate to scoot back down and straddle his lap with a glint of determination in your eyes.

It’s him who then throws his head back with a loud groan, every muscles of his body tensing, because suddenly, and too fast for him to prepare himself, you line his cock up with your slick entrance and slam yourself down, swallowing all of his length to the base.

"F-Fu-ck", Lo‘ak chokes out, once you sit on him properly, your own body weight and gravity pulling you down further than he thought was even possible, until you were nestled snugly against him, clit kissing his pubic bone. It makes him physically shudder.

"Oh t-thank you! Fuck– thank you. You feel so good, so good", Lo‘ak wheezes, and his cock throbs vividly inside you.

Instead of a verbal response, you decide to let your body do all the talking now. Starting with a pace that he least expected now, you’re moving your hips hard and fast— lifting yourself up and down on Lo‘aks cock and spilling moans that he feels deep to his core. His cock almost slips out each time, before you’re slamming your whole body back down, turning yourself into an equally moaning and whimpering mess.

Below you, Lo‘ak‘s eyes are squeezed shut and his toes curl at the feeling of your tight heat swallowing him over and over again. But even closed, you can clearly see the tears soaking his lashes. He’s so close that it hurts, but it’s a good kind of pain. One, he hopes will finally grant him the orgasm he’s been clinging to like his life depended on it.

"Look", you then tell him. Like the good boy that he was, he slowly forced his eyes open, before you grab his chin with your thumb and index finger and direct his gaze to where your pussy greedily swallows him, stretched around his girth like a little sleeve made just for him to use.

"I am- Fuck! I am looking", he sobs, "You’re g-gonna make me come— please don’t stop! Please!"

Lo‘ak wants to jerk up into you so badly. He wants to break free, flip you over and pound into you, relishing in the way that his hip bones would leave marks from how hard he would thrust into you. He wants to make you cry out his name, scream it for the whole village to hear, so everyone would know that the chief’s spoiled little brat was currently getting all her holes stuffed full to the brim by the outcast.

The sounds you knocked out of his throat were a mixture of groans and whimpers, moans so shamelessly loud, whenever his dick knocked on your cervix like an iron hammer, that it made even himself blush.

He’s close, you could feel it. You hear it in the strain of his voice as he whimpers whatever incoherent stuff comes to his fucked out and fried brain by now.

But you’re close too. And by the great mother if you don’t make this a challenge into coming before he does, just to get your payback…

Making your hips come to an abrupt halt, you stay down against his pelvis, only rotating your hips in circles now, while switching the direction randomly.

"Oh eywa, please", he cries out", Please you– you- I can’t. I can’t take it anymore! Need to come, please move!"

But you continue to grind yourself against him, and Lo’ak feels your cunt pulse, but it’s not nearly enough. With your clit dragging against his skin, you slump forward against his chest and your whole body goes rigid with a shuddering gasp.

Lo‘ak is shuddering, broken sobs and whimpers leaving his parted lips as he begs for you to keep moving, his hips raising up and chasing the friction of your thrusts to return to him. It’s damn near torture- feeling your warm, velvety-like walls squeeze his cock, while you stay completely unmoving on top of him, coming undone without a care for him and his needs.

"C-Coming, I’m coming!", you moan into his ear, your arms encircling his neck and hold him tight as you shamelessly use him to make yourself finish.

And that’s it.

The friction alone and your barely there movements are hardly enough, would normally get him nowhere close, but as sensitive as he was right now they’re enough to make his whole body spam as he finally, finally, thank eywa, comes.

His cock is still buried deep inside your rhythmically-pulsing cunt, pumping rope after rope of his cum inside you as he sobs into the coock of your neck. Soft whimpers of thank you, thank you, thank you are muffled against your skin and it feels like forever and he’s still coming.

"That’s it, just like that. Hmm, m'feeling so warm inside", you coo softly into his ear, your voice laced with a giggle as you feel his cum seep out of your slick entrance, "You’re coming so much. What a good boy you are, filling me up like that. There you go, paskalin, don’t hold back."

You’re not entirely sure Lo‘ak even hears you by that point, but you still keep up the reassurance anyway as you carry on, determined to milk him dry. Your pelvis flexes and your walls seem to massage his cock, squeezing him empty to the last drop until another sob breaks free and tears roll down his face.

Allowing him a moment to catch his breath and collect himself, your soft hands run up and down his chest and then a sigh of incredible relief leaves his lips. It’s enough of a go-ahead for you to finally move, much to his disappointment.

Lo‘aks brows are furrows together lightly, watching with parted lips as his cock slips out of you in the process of getting up and rearranging your clothes. His tail sways lazily, softly tapping against the sand while he patiently waits for you to untie him.

It takes him a moment longer than he would like to admit, before he realizes that this is not happening the way he thought it would.

Reaching for his loincloth, you toss the piece of fabric and also his knife in its sheath next to him. Just barely near enough that he could reach it. Then, and with the biggest, smuggest grin on your face, you untie just one of his wrists.

"You can set yourself free, right?", you ask, but both of you know that’s it’s meant rhetorically. Regardless, your words don’t help ease the sudden tension in his shoulders and the way he looks at you like a lost puppy, utterly confused. His mind was seemingly struggling to understand what was happening, still dizzy from the most intense orgasm he’s ever experienced. It was no surprise to neither of you, that he was a little short of words as he laid there, limp and spent.

Still, you shoot him a playful wink, before turning on your heels to return to the village, leaving him there like a used toy. Looking back over your shoulder one last time, you wave at him and giggle,

"See you later, my spoiled little brat."

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tb3ih · 3 months

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worst husband ever! ⨳ gojo satoru

[ HUSBAND!satoru can't resist his lover ] | sfw + suggestion!

YOU awake tangled in between silk sheets and the long limbs of another slumbering body. Your eyes follow the ivory clouds which play tag along the beautiful, cerulean horizon of the morning sky. The peace and quiet settles into the marrows of your bones and you let out a sigh.

Beside you, there’s gentle snoring resonating from the male you share the bed with, his plush lips fairer than rose quartz as they puff with each breath. Turning on your side, your eyes trail up the bare of his toned back to the head of messy, white locks. You had never seen the almighty Gojo Satoru look so relaxed other than when he was snuggled in bed with you, one arm hooked around your waist and the other underneath his pillow.

Careful as not to wake him, you do your best to sit up, teeth catching the inside of your lip as you feel the pain spike from your lower back. Across the room was a mirror, positioned perfectly to allow you a clear view of the scarlet which danced across your upper body in splotches.

You curse, picking up your pillow before slamming it down on your lover’s head.

Asshole.

Gojo stirred with a hiss, a curse leaving his once peaceful lips as he’s pulled from his slumber and forced to endure the morning. He turned on his side, propping himself up on his side with an incredulous look on his face, white sheets slipping just enough to tease the light with the sculpted lines of his torso. “What’d I do?!”

“What didn’t you do?” You bring a hand to flick a finger against his temple, only for him to grab it and take the opportunity to pin you on your back, something viciously mischievous glinting in his beautiful azure irises. “Satoru!”

One hand pressed against the mattress next to your head and the other bringing your hand to his lips, he pressed a whisper of a kiss to the smooth skin. “That’s the name, love.”

Your eyes narrow, his childish antics something you had gotten accustomed to. Using your free-hand, you pinch his side, taking the opportunity when he yelps in pain to flip him over and straddle his waist. You grab his jaw, forcing the male to take you seriously, despite the playful tug at his lips. “It’s late, we should be up by now,” you assert, “I want to explore the island while we still have daylight.”

“And what does that have to do with me?” Gojo’s expression is still playful and you take the pillow to smack in his face one more time, which he blocks, leaving you flustered and frustrated. You roll off of him, leaving his laughing figure alone in the bed. “Wait, Y/n–”

You take his t-shirt off, tossing it somewhere in the room. “Nope, I won’t hear it.” The bathroom door slides and you pull it open, revealing a large tub and shower space. There are hurried footsteps behind you but the door slides shut before your husband can make it through.

The sound stills from the other side of the door, a quiet knocking resonating as Gojo attempts to greet you. “Love, let me in, please?”

Silence.

“Please?”

You wait a beat, silently cursing yourself for giving in the way you do, the way you always do.

His eyes are pleading, pseudo-hurt written in blue when hsi gaze meets yours. His lips are twisted in a pout. “Y/n…”

“Satoru.” You raise a brow, the look you return him expectant and unsurprised.

“Oh Y/n! My sweet, precious, beautiful, lovely–”

You grab him by the neck, pulling through the doorway into the bathroom with you. “Shut up before I change my mind.”

Gojo gasps dramatically, acting as if you’d ripped out his heart with your bare hands. He cries out, whining about how cruel you are to which you simply roll your eyes, hand on his chest to push him back into the shower.

The water is warm when it hits the two of you, lacing itself between your two silhouettes and settling in every space your bodies don’t occupy together. His lips on your neck have every cell in your body sighing in content and the thoughts in your brain melting down the drain with the shower water.

It was never a dull day with Gojo Satoru.

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osachiyo · 3 months

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𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐉𝐎𝐘, 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dazai, chuuya, Fyodor, nikolai, oda

˚➶ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — fem!reader, sfw content, so much fluff, children, nikolai is actually a good father in this i swear, swearing in chuuya's, best viewed in dark mode

˚➶ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — wdym do i have baby fever why would u even ask that? also im begging for some fluffy asks </3 not proofread

𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 . . . just some cute little scenarios with daddy!bsd men <3

dazai stared at his 2 month old baby girl sleeping in her crib, drooling on the little pink teddy bear you two had bought for her. it was almost 3 am — the time she'd wake up every single night and start crying for milk, effectively ruining both of your sleep. he knew you were tired, you needed rest — but you couldn't just leave your baby crying all night. that's exactly why he offered to do it for you, waking up exactly at 2:30 am, just to watch his baby sleep — waiting patiently for her to stir awake all while admiring his baby's cuteness.

she's got your nose — he thought while smiling fondly, tracing a slim finger over her chubby little cheeks before gently poking her nose, making a little 'boop!' noise while doing so. she stirred a little from the contact, her face scrunched up all cutely as she slowly woke from her slumber. "morning, sweet girl," dazai whispered, gently picking her up from the crib and cradling her — shushing her little cries. at least she isn't going full crier mode — he thought to himself, relieved that he managed to calm her down.

"let's not wake up your mommy, okay hun?" he muttered, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of her head — a chuckle leaving his lips as he watched her make grabby little hands to the formula filled baby bottle in his hand.

"oh you want this?" he dangled the bottle in front of her eager face — her eyes lighting up as she babbled random words to her daddy, translating to "yes please!"

"sure, baby — buuuut! — you have to give daddy a kiss first," he grinned, moving his awful bed-head out of his face and revealing his cheek to her, ready for a kiss from his tiny princess. and as if she could actually understand him, she placed a kiss on his cheek, though it was mostly her trying to eat his cheek instead, but everyone has to start somewhere, right? at least that's what her father thought.

you slept like a baby that night — but you did find dazai in the baby room in the morning, sound asleep on the carpeted floor with his little bundle of joy in his arms

chuuya knew you needed a break from your mommy duties — like everyone does once in a while. so like the wonderful and caring husband he was, he bought you a ticket to bali — insisting that he would be fine. after all, how hard could taking care of a toddler be?

"fuckin' hell.." chuuya grumbled, gloved fingers through his ginger locks as he clicked his tongue. he was going through some very annoying paperwork that his subordinates apparently couldn't do right — which was so damn frustrating. and he had to keep an eye on his sweet 3 year old daughter, who was playing on the floor, mumbling a random children's song while doing so. chuuya didn't know how in the actual hell you managed to multitask like this — doing all the housework while taking care of the kid? it genuinely impressed him.

"—ak!" his train of throught suddenly got cut off, as he heard his daughter. he looked over at the small child, who was happily waving her doll around. "did you say something, honey?" he questioned, walking over to kneel beside her as he eyed the heap of toys — mayybe you were right, he thought, he did buy her too many toys.

the toddler looked at her daddy, the beaming smile on her chubby face made him want to just scoop her up in his arms and stay like that for hours.

"fak!" she squealed, slamming the poor doll on the floor — as if it were the most exciting word she'd ever heard. chuuya's face went pale — sweat already beading at his temples as he imagined your reaction to your daughter saying the forbidden word.

"nonono don't say that — that's a bad word, sweetheart," chuuya scooped her up before placing her on his lap, as she tilted her head, staring at him in confusion, "..fak?"

"shit — you've got to be kiddin' me.."

"shit?"

"NO — oh god damn it!"

"yes, good girl — put it right there," fyodor pointed at the chess board. the toddler only stared at him in confusion, looking at the chess piece in her stubby hand before looking back at her father. "come on, you can do it," your husband encouraged, never getting impatient.

"i don't think it's possible for a 4 year old to play chess, fedya dear.." you let out a chuckle, taking in the amusing sight of your husband teaching his precious daughter how to play chess. "anything is possible, my love," fyodor replied, trying to stop his daughter from putting the chess piece in her mouth. "riiight... her trying to eat the pieces definitely doesn't help your case, darling," you laughed, rolling your eyes at how silly your beloved could be at times, no matter how many people see him as a genius.

"she's learning," he retaliated, taking the piece away from her before dangling her favourite candy in front of her cute little face — "if you can put this right here, i'll give you the candy, okay? easy enough, right?"

the toddler only pouted, bottom lip jutting out as she whined — "but daddy, you can do it yourself!" fyodor sighed, apparently, she was having trouble understanding why she should do it when he could easily do it himself.

“darling, that’s not the point — the point is that i’m trying to play a game with you and it’s your turn.” the young girl’s frown only deepened, face scrunching up in frustration while she sulked in her seat.

“i think she deserves the candy, don't you, hun?” you smiled, turning over to your daughter — who only nodded in return. “she’ll get her candy after she puts the piece in the correct spot.” your husband clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval at you giving in so easily. “she’s just a child, honey..” you sighed, cheek resting on your palm.

fyodor was about to give another witty reply when you both heard a small sniffle — both of you looking over to the little girl; her lips were wobbling, tears running down her soft cheeks. “oh no no, sweetheart — c’mere,” it’s like he did a total 180, previously annoyed features now softened and evident guilt painting his face. your daughter only seemed to cry harder at that, snot running down her nose as she ran to fyodor, burying her face in his chest. “there, there..” he sighed, frowning at the way her body shook with each hiccup. “told you,” you grumbled, stifling a laugh at seeing fyodor panicking and handing her a good amount of the sweet treats — only for her to stop crying the moment she got what she wanted, a mischievously cute grin gracing her face. like father like daughter — you suppose.

"daddyyyy! — stay still!" the little girl whined, eyebrows furrowing as she combed through nikolai's snowy hair. "you've been brushing my hair for 30 minutes now, princesssss!" he whined back, matching her childish tone. "it needs to be perfect," his precious daughter sighed out loud, acting as if she was stressed — perhaps she learnt that from you, he snickered at the thought.

"alright, alright.." he sighed, straightening his posture — smiling as he felt tiny hands comb through his white locks. at least she's gentle with it — he practically shuddered at the thought of his precious hair being yanked and pulled by a toddler.

"daddy, you need to close your eyes," she huffed, running over to grab her little box of accessories and clips, before returning back to her dad. "whatever the princess wants, i suppose.." he chuckled, closing his eyes — feeling her decorating his hair with whichever accessory she desired. he could never really say no to her.

after a few more moments of waiting, she was finally done — excitedly telling nikolai to open his eyes. "tadaaaa!" she giggled, throwing her arms up in the air as he opened his eyes, a cheshire smile immediately gracing his lips as he stared at his reflection — hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, as various colours of heart shaped clips decorated his head. "you did such a good job, dove!" he grinned, scooping her tiny frame up in his huge arms, as she squealed. he threw her up into the air — making her squeal even louder before easily catching her, both of them howling with laughter.

moments like this makes him glad he didn't leave to get the milk.

"how does your mom even do this every morning.." oda sighed, trying his best to figure out how in the actual hell to do his daughter's hair. and the worst part? he only had 10 minutes until the school bus arrived. hell, he already spent the last 20 minutes brushing and detangling her hair!

"daddy, there's not much time left!" the 7 year old complained — watching her dad struggle with her hair through the mirror. he was debating on whether to call you for help, which he quickly decided against. she's on vacation, she should enjoy it thoroughly without any worry — he thought to himself, clicking his tongue as he messed up what was supposed to be a simple pigtail once again.

"daddy.. there's only two minutes left!" the girl whined once again, kicking her legs as she grew more and more impatient — while her hair situation grew worse and worse. "um, alright sweetheart — how about you just go to school with your hair down?" oda sweat dropped, trying to convince his daughter to the best of his ability.

"you know i can't do thaatt!" she groaned, giving him a pout. "right — well how about —"

the honking of the bus outside cut him off, as the little girl only sighed.

he somehow convinced your daughter to not snitch to you about her going to school with very crooked pigtails. buuut, he did take some hair lessons from you after you came back.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

tags ・ @hopefulpain @inkmooon @constant-existential-terror @nda-approval @mellieellie @seiiushi @lynxxyyy @kentopedia

@sorasushik1 @himebwrries @nopethenope @neviex @fyodorisbbg @stygianoir @saharei @x-lunawrites-x @munnaitorei @emyyy007 @dearhoney-31 @the-foreigner @angoisfine @osaemu @honeycombflowers-blog @yuiiasathesilly @kaithegremlin @sukiischaotic @squigglewigglewoo @cupidszvlvr @ashthemadwriter-archived @bloobewy @mrs-bakugou @hauntedsol @ask-me-or-not @hanakotateyama @kissesmellow21 @dazaichuuya69 @xxsilverjackalxx @gettinshiggywithit @deaths-presence @sugaredpersimmon @rjssierjrie @iheartpieck @angelof-darkness @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @hellokitty-4-lele @scinclaitnoir @aly-insanity @kemis-world @bisexuawolfsalt @thateldribitch

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fangswbenefits · 6 months

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The Arrangement (2) - In Between

Chapter summary: Astarion plagues you day and night, and now you are faced with making a decision in regards to this arrangement...

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. PiV s*x. Innuendo. S*xual tension. Blood. Blood drinking.

Word count: 5.4k

Chapter 1 . Series Masterlist . Ao3

It was the growing pressure along the dip of your back that roused you from your slumber.

As it trailed down your spine, you began to embrace the familiar touch of coldness laced with tenderness.

Astarion.

A carefree sigh escaped your lips and you arched slightly, savouring his touch. The feel of your warm skin contrasting with his cold one never failed to have you craving more of it.

The bed suddenly dipped as he settled between your legs, his growing erection pressing gently at your entrance.

"I want to be inside you again."

You immediately nodded with a content sigh, resting your head on your pillow, heart pounding faster and faster in anticipation.

It had been way too long since you'd last been showered with his affection on such an intimate level.

A loud gasp tore from your lips as his cock began to stretch you further with each passing second, and you angled your hips, allowing him to bottom out with ease, letting the most delicious sigh of relief you had ever heard from him.

It was as if he had longed for this for far too long, seeking a comfort that only you could provide.

As if Astarion truly belonged deep inside of your being.

Body and soul.

He slowly shifted above you, until his lips were grazing the shell of your ear. "Let me break you."

At first, your brain didn't register his words. Pleasure fogged your mind and he had your eyes flutter shut from his first hard thrust.

Strangled cries echoed in the room each time he'd slide out only to ram back in, his hips meeting yours at a hypnotic pace.

You balled your fists, gripping the bed sheets in an attempt to ground yourself.

He dragged the sharp fangs along the exposed skin of your neck and a shiver traveled down your entire body. In truth, you adored having him feed on you as he fucked you, just so you could feel his cock becoming stiffer from your blood rushing through him.

You expected him to sink his teeth into you, but that moment never came.

"I will break you."

That instantly snapped you out of your lust-filled haze.

His words dripped with poison, but the tone wasn't his.

This wasn't your Astarion.

Panic began to take root as tentacles began to enter your field of vision. Fear spread like wildfire, suffocating and freezing you in place. Your chest felt heavy as if being compressed by an invisible force, and your mind caged you in, unwilling to let you fight against the impending sense of despair.

You somehow managed to find your voice amidst the turbulence as a ragged scream tore from your tightening throat. "NO!"

And then… nothing.

Your eyes flew open at once, and everything went silent and still all of a sudden.

The faint golden rays of the morning sun hit your flushed skin, and you rolled onto your back, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. Your breathing had become erratic and a thin layer of sweat coated your face.

Another nightmare.

They had become a common occurrence as of late, causing you to dread the night-time just as Astarion dreaded the day-time, albeit for different reasons.

Your mind kept playing tricks on you, ensuring that he wouldn't leave your thoughts even in your sleep.

It didn't help that these nightmares kept getting progressively more vivid. You had nearly forgotten how he had once felt inside you, and now you were being reminded of that sensation by your own brain.

The rhythmic throbbing between your legs eventually subsided, but the tight grip of frustration lingered on.

You let out a low grunt, wiping the tears from your face, vaguely praying to the gods above to cease this endless torment.

It had only been three days since you last saw Astarion in front of you, yet he had been visiting you in your dreams ever since.

A soft knock on the door had you shift to sit upright, trying to find your composure in record time.

"May I?"

Gale.

You took a deep breath and scrambled out of bed to open the door to your room, fastening your robes around you.

He smiled warmly, and you returned the gesture, motioning for him to walk in.

"There is some leftover porridge by the fireplace."

You winced lightly as realization hit you. "Oh, it was my turn to cook…"

"Think nothing of it," he gestured dismissively. "I do enjoy it, as I'm sure you're aware. I may not be able to provide the finest meals in Baldur's Gate, but I do not lack the passion to make up for it."

Your heart fluttered at his cadence.

Gale was such a comforting company to have around. His words would often envelop you like a warm blanket on a cold night.

"Thank you," you said sincerely.

His smile wavered and you saw concern settle on his face. "Are you well? Another nightmare?"

You moved to sit on a nearby chair, slumping into it and rubbing your temples with both hands.

"Do you wish to talk about it?" He asked, sitting across from you.

Did you? You weren't sure. He had known of your nightmares from the start, but was unable to provide much relief.

After all, he wasn't the root of this issue.

"Not really, no," you said. "But I'd welcome any news from Waterdeep."

He nodded with a sympathetic smile.

"Right. The newest letters carried hopeful news. I am to meet with someone who might be willing to cast some light on this Wish spell."

Hope blazed anew inside you, and it was as if the remnants of your nightmare had completely vanished.

"When? Who is it? What can I do to help?"

Gale chuckled. "Easy, my dear friend. All in due time. I am to leave for Waterdeep in a fortnight. My connection is well acquainted with this person, and that shall facilitate the process. Well, hopefully," he quickly added.

You leaned forward on the table, grasping at any and every sliver of information.

"Should I go with you?"

"I reckon being accompanied by a sorcerer might not work in our favour," he said with a hint of caution.

The eternal rivalry between wizards and sorcerers had come in between you two quite often at the start of your journey, but you had managed to work through what pulled you apart, and focus on what didn't.

Sadly, the same couldn't be extended to the rest of Faerûn.

You let out an exasperated sigh. "Of course. But you must promise to keep me informed at all times."

An affectionate smile curled his lips. "That I can do."

Then you felt the sudden jab of pessimism settle in your mind, like a dark cloud heavy with rain.

"Do you think we can do this?"

He tapped his chin. "I do believe so. It is not a matter of skill, I suppose. The difficulty, for now, lies in our ability to get the scroll in the first place."

Wish spell scrolls were extremely rare to come by, and even then, the chances of success were very, very slim. The possibility of the wish backfiring was too great for regular people to even dare mess with it.

So you had all decided to keep it simple at first: granting Astarion the ability to walk in the sun once more.

He had tried to have his vampiric hunger be included, but Gale had grounded his hopes, alerting that the more complex the wish, the more unstable the result could be.

Silence had settled around both of you, but you could tell Gale was eyeing you with utmost curiosity.

"You know, I never quite understood what happened between you and Astarion back in Moonrise Towers," he said after a while, his tone soft and careful. "You two seemed rather close, and all of a sudden it was as if this invisible wall had come in between."

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart clench as the memories resurfaced.

"It was for the best. We managed to salvage our friendship, and cast aside the foolish hopes of something that could never be." Your words felt almost too heavy to utter, but you managed not to falter. "I suppose that's all there is to it, really. We were never meant to be more."

Your voice had nearly cracked as you pressed your lips together, realising that lying really wasn't in your nature. Gale could probably see right through your miserable attempt at downplaying your feelings for him.

But this was your reality now: a constant effort of trying to deceive yourself, because facing the truth would be a far too painful alternative.

His voice still echoed in your head from time to time, cutting deeper and quicker than any blade.

"I had a plan. A nice, simple plan – seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you'd never turn on me. It was easy – instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. All I had to do was not fall for you... which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart."

"So you chose to be a friend instead of alover."

You leaned back, suddenly feeling quite nauseous. "Yes."

"And was that what you truly wanted?"

You paused momentarily, your eyes meeting his kind ones.

His question had caught you off guard, but the answer seemed simple and straightforward enough.

"No," you said sincerely, averting your gaze as a wave of sorrow washed over you. "But it was what he needed."

"I see," he drawled, shifting his chair closer. "I am no stranger to the unfortunate consequences of having your heart tied to someone you shouldn't long for."

You didn't reply, fearing any words might betray your calm demeanour.

"But I am also no fool – not a blind one, at least. This arrangement you two have seems to be taking a toll on you," he went on, his compassionate gaze never wavering. "Now, I have made peace with the fact that Astarion seems to crave distance from the rest of us, but do not ask me to turn a blind eye as I see a dear friend walking down the same torturous path I once treaded."

Whether it had been his relatable words, or the pent-up frustration finally reaching its limit, you weren't sure, but your chest tightened and the familiar sting in your eyes nearly made you crumble.

The first tear rolled down your cheek, but you still didn't dare speak.

This time, Gale took one of your hands in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Some people who enter our lives and aren't meant to stay, but they do leave a part of themselves with us, so we have a chance to see it as a learning opportunity. I believe this might be the case with you two."

You cleared your throat, feeling the uncontrollable urge to defend your bond with him. "We are still friends, Gale."

"Yet your relationship amounts to little more than a transaction."

Your eyes widened and your lips quivered.

"Am I wrong?"

Another tear, but you could only blink at him.

He squeezed your hand again. "Pardon if I am overstepping any lines, but I am merely concerned. I believe that a good friend tells you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear."

He was right.

By the Gods was he right.

And that was what made this conversation suffocating and nearly made you loathe Gale in the process.

Astarion had lured you in with his honeyed words, keeping your focus on him and yearning for far more than you could possibly think you might deserve.

He had lured you in by giving you what you wanted, and by the time you were too far gone to make out your wants from your needs, it was already too late.

Even now.

It was but a repetition of the same cycle.

And everyone around you could see that but you.

You immediately yanked your hand away and rose to your feet, not wishing to prolong this conversation. Gale glared at you with a pained expression, but said nothing.

"I'll talk to him about this new information regarding Waterdeep," you said, a cold shiver running through you. "I'm sure he will be delighted."

Whatever 'being delighted' meant to Astarion these days.

You wiped the wet trails of tears from you face and offered him a forced smile. "I thank you for your advice. I just… I can't think rationally on an empty stomach."

He nodded in understanding. "Wholeheartedly agree, my friend."

Gale followed suit as you walked out to grab a serving of porridge, only to find Lae'zel sitting at the table, sharpening her sword the tenderness and care you'd see in lovers.

"Not at the table," Gale said in a disapproving tone. "Your sword hasn't seen battle in very long. Give it a rest."

Lae'zel narrowed her eyes dangerously, still gliding the whetstone along the sharp edge. "It might if you allow me to handle that vampire spawn once and for all." She turned her head to you, as if awaiting for your words of approval. "Say the word and he'll be no more."

Her protectiveness over you flared so fiercely it could light up the entirety of Baldur's Gate.

"Thank you," you said with a faint smile, moving to sit by her side and accepting a bowl of porridge from Gale. "But I am quite sure I can handle a vampire spawn, should the need arise. What sort of sorcerer would I be if not?"

"The sort whose reason is clouded by matters of the heart, I'd wager," he said nonchalantly.

Lae'zel nodded, the screeching sound of metal on metal piercing through your ears.

But you were already miles away, buried in your thoughts.

Maybe Gale was right.

Maybe this arrangement had already run its course, and it was now time to put an end to it.

He could always just feed on wild animals while waiting for a solution to his vampiric condition.

It wasn’t as if he'd miss or even care that you were no longer around.

Perhaps it was what he truly wanted and needed.

Night enveloped the busy streets of Baldur's Gate, and your boots splashed the remnants of rainwater that spread across the pavement.

You had pulled your hood up, not seeking to draw any unwanted attention as your feet steered you along the crowd of merchants and Flaming Fists who kept an ever watchful eye over the northeast part of the city.

In reality, you had convinced yourself that you were merely seeking Astarion out for his own benefit: deliver the promising news from Gale and Waterdeep.

But it was an excuse, as always.

Your heart always stammering hard against your ribcage

As you approached the entrance to The Blushing Mermaid, you saw a pair of eyes follow your every step.

They belonged to that woman.

She was standing by the entryway, her heavy hair kept in a neat and intricate updo, and her pleasant face twisting into a knowing smile. She seemed vastly out of place when in comparison to the first time you had crossed paths with her.

You had decided to ignore her, but she clicked her tongue loudly, drawing your attention.

"He's not here."

Your neyes narrowed and you frowned. "Do you speak for him?"

She smiled wider. "He doesn't seek my company for my words."

A growing wave of anger began to rise inside you. In truth, you were sure she was merely attempting to get a rise out of you, but you wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"Where is he, then?"

She shrugged, checking her nails with a pout. "He might have mentioned going out for a night hunt?"

Your blood immediately ran cold.

Her dark eyes held a glimmer of malice in them. "Meddling with a vampire spawn is quite invigorating, but frowned upon," she said with another click of her tongue. "Although, I hear that the Duke is quite forgiving when it comes to close friends."

You took a step closer, lowering your voice. "What?"

She rolled her eyes. "I know of you. The hero of Baldur's Gate. You're not exactly discreet, dear."

To be fair, you weren't surprised she had recognised you, you were simply unsure of why your identity even mattered, or Astarion's for that matter.

"Then you should tread lightly."

"Oh, no need to threaten me," she scoffed, waving her hand dramatically. "I'm not your enemy."

A few commoners walked past you to enter the tavern's door, and you scooted to the side, seeking to stay away from prying ears.

What did this woman even want? Was she merely toying with your time? Was she fishing for something?

"You intrigue me," she carried on, adjusting the cape across her shoulder. "Especially because of him."

Your heart skipped a beat.

"What of him?"

"He won't feed on me."

Good.

Her face dropped into a faux pout. "I wondered why a vampire spawn would turn down a free meal, especially since they are known to have such an insatiable appetite," she said before pausing abruptly. "And then I realised why."

"Why?"

She chuckled. "Well, because of you."

Your collected composure faltered ever so slightly, and she seized the moment like a seasoned predator.

"You must be really special if he's willing to resist such temptation."

This made you snap, gritting your teeth. "Does this conversation have a purpose, or are you just wasting my time?"

"Maybe both? The point is, have the decency to put out the fires you start, at least."

Now you were utterly lost and vaguely wondered if she had been indulging in some alcoholic beverages, but her breath didn't reek of anything other than a citrus scent.

You cocked an eyebrow at her. "What does that even mean?"

It was her turn to look rather impatient. "A few nights ago. You came in, let him feed on you, and then you left his cock painfully hard. That was very rude of you."

She was definitely mocking you.

Your temper exploded all at once and you grabbed her by the shoulder, shoving her hard against the wall, and she let out a theatrical yelp that earned the attention of a group of Flaming Fists strolling nearby.

Fuck.

"Is something the matter?" One guard inquired, approaching from the side, shield in hand.

You promptly let go of her, and she straightened herself up with that forced smile of hers you had already grown to detest.

"Oh, not at all, kind sir," she chuckled with the easiness of someone who was well versed in the art of deception. "My friend was just squatting a bug."

You readjusted your hood, side-glancing at the man who didn't seem all that convinced and tying to muster your most believable innocent smile.

The guards exchanged a few looks and resumed their patrol, disappearing into the distance.

As soon as they were out of sight, you were on her again, close enough that only she could hear you. "You don't know the first thing about him."

"And do you?"

Your lips were pressed tightly together, as you struggled to keep yourself more lunging at her.

This woman had seemed so harmless when you had first crossed paths with her, but now you could see that she was an expert in antagonising others to her own amusement and for whatever reasons.

Her beauty was her saving grace, and definitely the only reason why Astarion had picked her in the first place.

She was meaningless.

You spun around, knowing all too well that lingering would only result in someone getting badly injured, and she just wasn't worth the hassle.

As you began treading away from the tavern, you heard her singsong voice calling behind you.

"Leaving already? Won't you join me as we wait for him? I'm quite sure he wouldn't mind sharing."

You clenched your fists so tight that your nails were digging into your palms, threatening to draw blood.

Around you, a few heads turned as curious stares followed your every step.

You'd just have to postpone delivering him the news.

Not that it surprised you in the slightest.

It was as if the Gods above were having a laugh at how much you craved being in his presence, and had collectively decided to sabotage your every attempt.

They had just sent that wretched woman.

What would be next on their list? Memory loss?

The heat that had risen inside your body began to simmer with each step you took through the narrowing streets.

As you were about to round the corner that would lead you across the bridge, a light tug at your trousers made you flinch and jolt in distress, bringing you to a halt.

"A couple of gold pieces, please… for my supper."

You looked down at a scruffy looking man who was kneeling on the floor, hands clasped together in a plea as he shivered.

Usually, you would spare a few pieces, but something felt terribly off.

Maybe it was the fact that there was a faint hint of deceit on his face.

Or probably because he was slowly reaching down for the knife at his hip.

Fuck.

This was no beggar.

"I don't have my coinpurse with me. Apologies."

It was foolish of you to expect that to be the end of it, but you really did not want to draw any unwanted attention. Even with Wyll's protection, the city was still crawling with mercenaries and folk who wouldn't hesitate to harm you if they knew who you truly were.

You began to take large steps away from him, focused on putting as much distance between you two as possible without seeming too alarmed.

From the corner of your eye, you were able to spot movement, and you were now aware he was following you.

What an unfortunate turn of events.

You cursed inwardly, sliding your dagger from its sheath, hoping you'd be able to lose him before actually having to use it.

"I know you have some gold on you."

His taunt only served as motivation to speed up your pace.

The passers-by that filled the street would not lend a helping hand, as it could potentially backfire on them, so they merely moved out of the way, turning a blind eye.

Your hands heated up as you pondered which spell you could cast without it being a predicament.

His steps hurried behind you so fast that by the time you were ready to utter the invocation, he was already on you, shoving you harshly into a dark alleyway, effectively breaking your concentration.

Just as you were about to swing your blade in response, the man was hauled from you, and you heard the hiss of a dagger being drawn.

You would recognise it anywhere.

The bandit was now being pressed against a wall by a very feral Astarion, who was ready to splatter the floor with his innards.

"No!" You called out, as you saw a few commoners gathering at the entrance of the alleyway, whispering to each other.

Guards would be here soon.

And, at this point, your worries were not for you, but for Astarion.

If he happened to kill this man, it would be an unwanted situation to circumvent even with Wyll's aid.

"I'm being attacked! Help! I'm but a poor-"

Astarion gripped him by the hair and rammed his head hard into the stonewall, his dagger pressed against his neck. "Be quiet, or I will bleed you dry."

He began to struggle against Astarion, but all to no avail. No amount of physical prowess would rival his.

You had to do something quick before things escalated beyond a point of no return.

Panic took over you, and you raised one hand, waving it faintly. "Impero tibi!"

A flash of light pink swirled around the squirming man, and he went limp all of a sudden, flopping against the surface before dropping to the ground with a loud thud as Astarion let go of him.

Casting Sleep had been the safest option.

He glared at him with disgust. "Filthy pig."

Your breath was coming out in short breaths, which drew his attention.

"Are you hurt?" His voice was soft and held concern.

You shook your head, reaching out for his arm. "We need to leave before we get company."

The commotion nearby had escalated, and people were gasping and murmuring, pointing at them.

There was nothing more aggravating than a scared crowd, and you had no intention of sticking around for the aftermath.

Astarion didn't need to be told twice and quickly helped you climb up the wall, gripping your waist firmly with both hands.

"I see you haven't lost any of your agility." He teased.

You rolled your eyes, gripping the edge and hoisting your entire body at once, squatting to avoid any more intrusive glares.

"THEY ARE RUNNING AWAY!"

Astarion gracefully joined your side in a blink of an eye before anyone below could reach him.

You lead the way, trying your hardest to keep the balance as you hurried along the ledge and hopped onto a surrounding rooftop.

"Darling, you really must hone your stealth skill," he whispered behind you. "Absolutely appalling as ever."

Trust Astarion to deliver the most inconvenient remarks when you least needed them.

"Well, I'm so sorry if I cannot afford to worry about being graceful right now."

"It's an art form," he shot back condescendingly. "I'd be surprised if the entirety of Baldur's Gate didn't awake from all that loud thumping."

You glanced at him over your shoulder only to see him grin playfully.

"Do you ever shut up?"

His smile only deepened. "Are you offering?"

Your face blazed.

Impossible and infuriating man.

Both of you neared the edge of the rooftop. You surveyed your surroundings to make sure the path below was safe.

All clear.

But before you could voice it, Astarion jumped down, landing perfectly on both feet without a sound.

Of course.

He glanced up, raising both arms at you. "Come down, darling. I'll catch you."

You scoffed. "No need. I can do it."

"Suit yourself."

Heaving a deep sigh, you approached the edge and looked down below before plunging off the tiles.

You weren't nearly as gracious as he had been, but you still managed to stick your landing.

"I'm no damsel in distress." You said teasingly.

He took a step closer to you, reaching for your hood, and slowly pulling it back to reveal your face.

"Just a damsel, then."

You stared into his crimson eyes, as your heart broke into a faster pace.

His hands lingered near your neck, and you could swear his face was getting closer.

Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

"Also, that Sleep spell? You are fortunate I can't be affected by it, otherwise you'd have to carry me out of there." He said, cocking his head to the side. "That would be a fun challenge, I suppose."

His cold fingertips traced your pulse point, and you wished you could be strong enough to pull away from him, but he was too easy to get lost into.

No. He was definitely getting closer.

You could see every crease and wrinkle on his handsome face.

You could see the faint curve of his nose.

You could see his lips parting lightly.

"Cat got your tongue?"

You shook your head, pulling yourself from your thoughts at once, and pushing his hands away with a scowl.

"That's exactly why I cast it," you said, clearing your throat. "How did you find me?"

He took a step back, looking rather bored. "Ava told me you went looking for me. It was not hard tracking you down."

So that was her name.

"Am I that indiscreet?"

He chuckled lightly, fangs peeking through. "Not at all. I just happen to be well acquainted with your blood, so I can detect its trail quite easily."

Oh.

"I wasn't expecting your visit this soon, so you must indulge my curiosity," he went on, voice dripping with honey. "Or did you just miss me?"

You adjusted the cloak around your neck, deflecting his bait. "I think you should be wary of your friend Ava."

He quirked an elegant brow. "How so?"

"She seems strange… or, at the very least, quite… unbalanced."

Astarion clicked his tongue. "Oh, darling… are you sure this is not just you being jealous?"

You growled in annoyance, earning a laugh from him.

"She wants you to feed on her."

"And I won't, so I fail to see why that bothers you."

You shot him a stern look. "She knows who I am and, to be quite frank, seemed rather intrusive. Dangerous, even."

"… are you implying that I'm the damsel in distress here?" He gasped dramatically. "Whatever will I do? What a pity. I'm rather fond of her."

His ability to not take things as serious as he should never failed to astound you.

It was truly one of his most infuriating traits and one that truly gnawed at your nerves.

"I'm merely warning you. I don't trust her. You are free to do whatever you see fit, of course."

"That's rich coming from you," he said in a low chuckle. "You should know better than to wander the streets of the city all alone at night, yet it didn't deter you."

"Excuse me?" You snarled, taking full offense. "I had to talk to you about something that concerns you!"

This was what Astarion did these days. Within a few minutes of initiating a conversation, he would find a way to upset or offend you. Usually both.

"So what is it? Have you come to alter the arrangement?"

I want to end it, you nearly spat out.

He drew near once more. "Because I'm all open to having our encounters happen more frequently."

Your eyes narrowed incredulously as Astarion tipped his head. "You fed on me three days ago!"

"My hunger is ever present," he immediately rebuked. "Feeding on your blood allows me to think and act more clearly for a short period, but it is not enough. It never is."

A pang of discomfort ran through your body as his words hit you.

"Then how are you able to resist feeding on her?"

His jaw clenched. "Because I made an arrangement with you, and if I break it then you won't allow me to feed on you ever again."

Your mouth dropped open at his sincerity.

"You were my first – your blood was my first, and you have no idea how hard it is to resist you."

"But you've tasted the blood of other thinking creatures…"

He sighed impatiently. "And nothing comes close. Absolutely nothing. I wish I had control over this preference, but I do not."

In truth, you hadn't expected this. You were aware of his hunger and how your blood affected his body in many ways, but you were unaware of its extent.

He was close to you again.

Too close.

He lifted one hand to trace your jaw, tilting your head back to meet his gaze. "So what is so important that would have you venture through these dark streets at night just to see me?"

You shuddered under his touch.

You wish you could find your voice and tell him of Gale's recent update.

And that you had it in you to put an end to this arrangement. It would also allow for you to properly rekindle your friendship as it used to be, and address some of the things that tormented him.

Besides, he could just feed on wild animals for the time being.

He didn't need you.

You were frozen in place as he traced your bottom lip with his thumb. "Did you know that I can taste the arousal in your blood?"

Oh, Gods…

He suddenly gripped your hand and brought it close to his own lips, and you saw a trail of dark liquid pouring faintly from a cut in your thumb.

"Astarion, we shouldn't…"

You gasped as he wrapped his lips around you, tongue darting around your bruised skin.

His eyes fluttered shut as he began to suckle gently, drawing more blood from the wound.

Your heart must have skipped several beats in the next few seconds from just staring at his pretty face twisting in pleasure.

Suddenly, you spotted a flash of gold darting behind him, but were too transfixed to care.

He kept lapping at you hungrily, shooting jolts of pleasure to your core.

But the increasing sound of mental clashing on pavement was what made you pull from him at once.

He looked utterly confused as his brows furrowed together, blood coating his lower lip.

Another flash of gold entered your field of vision.

"Astarion!"

And then everything went black.

Masterlist . Series Masterlist . AO3

Next chapter

#astarion x female reader #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion smut #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #bg3 smut #baldur's gate 3 smut #astarion x mc #astarion fic #astarion bg3

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bedoballoons · 7 months

Note

For kinktober, may i request first time with any of the tall boys? Do you thinn they'd be gentle or..? You can choose who :)

Oooo!!! There are definitely some who'd be gentle...and others who I think wouldn't be~

Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy!!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Gentle or Rough~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI! First time, reader is a virgin! GN! Bottom! Reader, praising, fingering, c*mming inside, and eating out! Ayato calls the reader darling!

(Includes: Diluc, Zhongli, Neuvillette, Ayato, and Childe!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc: (He'd be gentle~)

"You're doing so good~"

He'd whisper into your ear before trailing kisses down your bare chest, worshipping your body and this special gift you were going to share with him, he wanted nothing more than to make you feel better than you ever had. He wanted to do everything you'd let him, his fingers slowly sliding from your hips down to your thighs to pull them apart, your entrance tight and ready for him...he wanted to watch as you came for him, eyes rolling back into your head while you breathlessly moaned his name~

𑁍༄Zhongli: (He'd be gentle at first~)

"You're more addicting than whine itself~"

He'd be so gentle at first, kissing the insides of your thighs with his soft lips while your face grew more blushed with each peck, then he'd look up at you with love filled eyes, once again questioning if it was okay to proceed...and then once you gave him affirmation, his tongue would slowly slide across your entrance, leaving a trail of his hot saliva before sinking it inside of you, moaning at how delicious you tasted. Once he'd started hearing your beautifully lewd sounds though, his pent up frustration would surface and after years of nothing...he'd go more than just a couple rounds~

𑁍༄Neuvillette: (He'd be very gentle~)

"I want to make love to you~"

He'd ask you more than once if you were okay, even when he was sinking deep into you, eyes glazed over with lust and want as your tight walls clenched around him. He knew his strength was above average and the last thing he wanted was for your first time to hurt, but holding himself back was so hard, your hole was mind meltingly addictive to him, to the point he became simply unraveled because of you. As you moaned out his name he'd whisper constant I love yous into your ear and by the end he'd have you filled with that love, warm and slowly dripping down your thighs~

𑁍༄Ayato: (He'd be a bit gentle~)

"Louder darling~"

He'd say, his voice dripping with candy coated lust and his tongue covered in your essence, he wanted you to be almost screaming for him by the end of the night, your entire body exhausted from the amount of times he sent you over the edge. He wanted to hear his name leave your puffy kiss covered lips over and over again while he came so deep inside you that you saw stars, and then he could just sit there and stare at his goregous darlings fucked out face for all eternity~

𑁍༄Childe: (He'd be rough~)

"Let's see who can make the other finish more times~"

At first you'd think he was joking, it was your first time after all and surely he wouldn't actually turn it into a competition, but you were very wrong. He'd chuckle as you came again, your tight walls slick with his hot cum, your body exhausted and covered in perfect marks that he hoped everyone would see in the morning. He'd keep going until you cried out his name, until his seed was spilling out of you and your virginity was completely ripped away. He just wanted to make sure it was more than memorable, even if you couldn't walk in the morning~

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Happy kinktober~*⁠.⁠✧

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luvrgrlellie · 7 months

Text

worship me

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: in which ellie catches reader watching porn

warnings/description: pure smut basically, meanish!ellie, dom/top!ellie, sub/bottom!reader mentions of porn, degradation kink, little bit of praise kink at the end, eating out (r!receiving), riding (r!receiving)

“yes- fuck just like that baby! don’t stop” moans and curses and dirty words filled the quaint bedroom you and ellie share. it’s an otherwise quiet tuesday morning and much to your disappointment, it wasn’t you and ellie making these sounds. ellie had left early that day to go out on patrol and you weren’t expecting her back until that evening. so when you woke up horny with an empty spot next to you in the bed, you groan in frustration, not wanting to have to wait until the end of the day to get the attention you so desperately craved from your girlfriend. you shift onto your back and spread your legs, bending them at the knees and bringing them out to either side of you to give you better access to your aching heat. you slip your hand beneath the flimsy fabric of panties and press your index finger to your swollen clit. you whine, circling it over and over and moving down every so often to gather slick from your hole. you slide ellie’s t-shirt you had on up and over your tits and begin tugging at one of your nipples with your free hand. you shut your eyes tight, pretending it was ellie’s hands on you - ellie’s fingers pinching your hard nipple, twisting and tugging at it to get those whines she loves so much out of you, ellie’s thumb on your clit, circling while you squirm in her arms and beg her to fuck you. you hear ellie’s words in your head- calling you her good girl, telling you how wet and tight and warm your pussy is, and how it belongs to her and her only. you slip two fingers into your tight hole, moaning at the stretch, but not at all feeling as full as you do with ellie’s fingers inside of you. yours are far too short and don’t reach that special spot in your gummy walls that ellie hits over and over again until you’re squirting all over the place. you pull them out and huff, unsatisfied and now really missing your sweet girlfriend and her magical mouth and fingers. desperate to cum and needing more stimulation to do so, you pull out your laptop and search for a site that you haven’t visited in a good while.

you are more than satisfied in your sex life with ellie (to say the least), as she is extremely attentive to your neediness and high libido and knows just what to do to get you off in a few short minutes. you really don’t need to please yourself that much as a result, and definitely didn’t use porn on a regular basis anymore to do so.

that’s why ellie was so shocked to hear those universally recognizable sounds coming from your bedroom when she got back that day. there was a scheduling mistake and they didn’t actually need ellie for patrol today, so they sent her home soon after she arrived that morning. and boy was she glad they did! just as she was slipping off her shoes and hanging up her coat, she heard you whine and let out a loud moan. “please please please fuck ellie i need you,” you cried, earning a cocky smirk out of ellie, as she now knew that you were still thinking of her and her hands on you, not the women fucking on your computer screen. she tiptoed upstairs and moved to the doorway of your bedroom, slowly pushing it open. you were turned slightly on your side, away from the door, staring at the laptop with one leg bent and lifted and one hand in your panties, furiously rubbing at your clit. you didn’t even hear ellie enter, so she stood there in silence for a moment, taking in the view of you touching yourself and feeling her own heat becoming wetter as she watched. when she decided she had embarrassed you enough, she cleared her throat, causing you to nearly jump straight out of the bed. you took your hand out of your panties and slammed the laptop closed in some sad and delusional attempt to hide what you did and shifted your eyes uncomfortably to the ones staring back at you in the doorway.

“hi els,” you say sheepishly, feeling thoroughly humiliated and wondering just how long she was standing there to watch you.

“hey baby” she says with a smirk and sits down next to you on the bed. she pushes some strands of your messy hair out of your face with a calloused hand. “what’ve you been up to this morning?” she asks mockingly with a knowing smile. you look down at your lap, avoiding the question, but she gently grabs you by the chin and lifts it so that you are forced to look into her eyes. “hmm? answer me.”

“I was- I just couldn’t wait. didn’t think you’d be home till later and my fingers aren’t as good as yours and I just wanted to cum so bad I’m sorry els-“

“Mmm and what made you so needy that you couldn’t wait for a couple hours for me to get home, hmm? what’s got my baby all worked up?” it’s clear that ellie’s teasing you on purpose just to get you even more desperate for her, so you let out a little whine in protest and ignore her question again. this time she grabs your face with both hands and leans in almost close enough to press her lips to yours. “hey. answer me when I talk to you or you’re not getting anything. what were you thinking about this morning?”

“about you els, of course.”

“what about me?” you roll your eyes at this and a smirk spreads across her face in response.

“about you… touching me… all over.” ellie slides her hands underneath your shirt and starts rubbing them up and down your sides on your bare skin.

“yeah? go on. what else?”

“ummm-you…” she’s rubbing her hands up and down your inner thighs now, getting dangerously close to your cunt but purposefully avoiding it none the less, “you… eating me out… with two fingers inside of me.”

“ahhh now we’re talking. is that what you were watching in your silly little video baby?” she grabs the laptop beside you and opens it up, ignoring your protests. the video you selected featured a more masculine, clearly dominant woman topping a more feminine, clearly submissive woman. she smiles at the resemblance they share to the two of you.

“ellie please,” you beg, but your pleas fell on deaf ears. she hits the play button and the pornographic moans and whines filled the room once again. the masculine woman had her face buried between the other’s thighs, holding them open on either side of her head. the woman receiving moans loudly, “yes fuck, eat my pussy, just like that.”

“that what you want baby? you want my mouth on your pussy?” she revels in embarrassing you like this. she loves the way you blush at her dirty words and get all shy, as if that wasn’t exactly what you were picturing 5 minutes ago.

“yes ellie. please I need you.” and just like that, your laptop was long forgotten on your bedside table, your panties are pushed to the side, and ellie’s head is in between your thighs, her tongue moving rapidly up and down your wet slit. now your whines and moans and ellie’s groans against your pussy are the sounds filling the room. “feels so good els- i can’t- don’t think i can take it.”

ellie lifts her head off your pussy for just a second to look at you and say “well i think you’re gonna sit there and take what i give you after being such a desperate little slut this morning.” and then her tongue is back on your clit, circling the nub rapidly while she rubs your thighs and you squirm in her arms. she brings her tongue down to your hole and presses it in, and then shakes her head back and forth on your cunt, rubbing your clit with her nose as she does so. you swear every time she eats you out it’s like she’s worshipping your pussy. she lifts her head again briefly to stare at your pink folds and curses, “fuck. so sexy baby goddamn,” before returning to your cunt once again.

the site is so hot and so dirty and you spent so much time that morning playing with yourself that you already feel orgasm approaching. “ellie I’m gonna- fuck- I’m gonna cum already.”

“already? god- such a whore. you probably came already earlier from watching your little video, huh? such a dirty girl watching that shit.” ellie’s taunts and humiliating words push you over the edge and pleasure explodes throughout your whole body. your toes curl and your back arches and ellie’s grip around your thighs tightens as she pulls you even closer to her face and sucks on your clit while you ride out your orgasm. your hips buck against her face, your body uncontrollably moving to get closer to her tongue and then quickly backing away from the overstimulation when it became too much. when your breathing calmed and you settled down, ellie lifts her head from your pussy and looks up at you beaming. you giggle and she comes closer to put her lips on yours and passionately kiss you, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.

when she pulls away, she puts her forehead against yours and hums, “mmm I’m not done with you yet.” ellie walks over to her side of the bed and grabs her purple strap from its box in her nightstand. she clicks it in place around her hips, not even bothering to take her pants off and leaving her still fully clothed. she sits back down on the bed beside you and pats her lap. “come sit.” you crawl over and swing a leg over ellie to straddle her hips. her fingers find the bottom of her t-shirt you have on and lifts it over your head. “love seeing you in my clothes, but love seeing em off you even more.” her mouth latches to one of your nipples while one hand found the other, and her second hand grabs your waist, pulling you down onto her plastic cock. the strap easily slides into your sopping wet hole and you and ellie moan in sync when you sit down fully, both of you looking at how it swallows up her cock completely. she gives you a minute to adjust and then unlatches her mouth from your tit with a pop. your head falls into her neck as your clenching pussy struggles to get used to the fullness. “s’ full, huh baby? that feel good?”

“feels s’ good- I can’t move though.”

“yes you can, c’mon baby I’ll help you.” she grabs your hips and slowly lifts you up the length of her strap, before bringing you back down again until she bottoms out. she repeats the movement again and again, speeding up a bit each time until you’re bouncing in her lap.

you grip onto her shoulders and begin pushing yourself up and down on your own, until soon you feel your second orgasm approaching. “els faster- fuck me faster please I need to cum.”

“awwww baby needs to cum again??” ellie coos mockingly, but obliges nonetheless as she starts fucking up into you at a pace that hits that one spot in your pussy just right. “so spoiled. getting exactly what you want and still whining. cmon, cum for me brat, make a mess all over my cock.” your second orgasm takes you by force - damn near stealing the breathe out of your lungs as waves of pleasure rock your body over and over again. you let out long, uncontrollable, and animalistic groans that have ellie feeling close to orgasm too. the end of the strap is hitting her clit just right as she fucks you through your orgasm, and the downright pornographic moans leaving your mouth were getting to be too much for her. “holy shit baby don’t stop cumming- I’m so close.” you moan again in response, sending her over the edge and making waves of pleasure rock through her own body. she talks both of you through it, “yes- fuck, good girl, let it all out f’ me, good job baby.” you huff and puff and try to catch your breathe as both of you calm down. still inside of you, ellie wraps her arms around your waist and pulls you down to lay on her chest, rubbing your back and comforting while you settle. “feel better now?” ellie mutters before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“yes. much better.”

hiii babies, so sorry for the hiatus, I’m back at school now so unfortunately I’ll probably be producing less content consistently, BUT I will make sure that everything I put out is SO YUMMY and juicy that it makes up for it. love ya’ll!!

xoxo,

a ;)

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams drabble #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x y/n #tlou2

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apollyonsdarksecrets · 1 year

Text

A part of you, a part of me

Summary: Joel’s been down this road before, he’s seen all the signs, and he knows before you ever do that you’re pregnant.

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, unplanned pregnancy, crying, fluff, pre-outbreak Joel. Established relationship, cream pie, pet names, cussing, pregnancy tests, just a bunch of happiness because that’s all Joel deserves in this world. 💜😭

A/n: I can’t say Joel has a breeding kink… but I can certainly say he makes me have one 😌

Joel Miller Master List

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Joel remembers everything from Sarah’s mother’s pregnancy, all of the signs that lead up to them finding out. And surely enough it was beginning to show in you.

It started one autumn morning, when he woke up to find you nestled in beside him, face pressed into his chest, snoring slightly, hair in disarray. You were the picture perfect definition of someone getting the best sleep of their lives.

The only reason it concerned his was the fact that you never slept in past 6. You were always up before Joel, making breakfast for him and Sarah and more often than not Tommy, taking Sarah to school with a sweet kiss to his lips before you’d dash off to work yourself.

Brushing the hair from your face he whispers softly, “Honey?” You grumble something unintelligible, pulling a smile from him. “Honey it’s 7:20.” You’re slow to open your eyes, hazy and still leaded with sleep as they focus in on him, his dark hair sticking up around his head like every morning, “You okay?”

“M’ just really tired… think you can take over this morning?” You whisper, reaching up and cupping his cheek, the stubble of his beard scratching your palm.

“Of course baby. You need me to call work? Want a day to relax?” You smile at his concern, knowing he’s already gearing himself to go the extra mile to make sure you start to feel better.

“That would be really nice.” He kisses your lips gently before leaving you to sleep in, and you end up sleeping most of the day away.

Joel’s quick to notice that you start to get more tired as the days progress, usually a morning person you were now sluggish and downing two cups of coffee just to stay alert, you’d stay in bed a little longer and go to sleep a little earlier.

Initially he’d chalked it up to being stress at work, you were an associate for a designer company, making all the hotels and houses around here ‘fancy looking’ as he would say. It was a big, busy job that you were very passionate about.

But then came the emotions and cravings, not anger or frustration like Sarah’s mother, but you cried, and you cried a lot. The alarm bells should of gone off when he found you one night in the kitchen after everyone had gone to bed. You were sitting at the counter crying, no you had been sobbing, and Joel feared the worst until you blubbered out that you just really, really wanted ice cream.

Him finding you like that only embarrassed you more, adding to the water works as he dragged you in for a tight hug, smoothing his hands up and down your back.

“I-I think I’m just PMSing.” You hiccuped bashfully, hiding your face against his chest as he kissed the brown of your head.

“It’s okay, we will go get some tomorrow, it’s Saturday and we can take Sarah with us to the little parlor in town.”

Two months in to your sudden changes is when it all came to a head, he wasn’t being nosy, had actually just walked into the house about to announce himself when he heard you on the phone.

“I don’t know Jenny, works been stressful, I definitely haven’t been eating right and I just don’t have the energy to go to the gym like I use to. Hell even my periods plying hide and seek with me. I thought about making a doctors appointment-“

Whatever else you say is lost on him as he stops dead in his tracks, his muscles tensing and mouth drying up. He makes his legs move, taking him around the corner and into the kitchen. You don’t notice him at first, giving him the perfect opportunity to just look at you, to really look at you.

At the sake of sounding corny… You really were glowing, face a little rounder, body filling out in different ways, curves softening under your clothing. The changes were slight, not so prominent yet, but he can see it.

His heart speeds up, emotions rolling through him like the ocean in a storm.

You are pregnant.

Walking closer he catches your attention, making you crack a wide smile that has his knees going weak. “Hey, Jenny, Joel just got home I’ll talk to you later… love you too, bye.”

Setting the phone down, you go to stand but Joel’s in front of you, dropping to his knees and capturing your hips in his hands. You let out a startled yelp, hands coming to rest on his arms squeezing gently.

“As adventurous as I am, I don’t think the kitchen is t-.”

“We need to talk.” His serious expression extinguishes your excitement, panic flashing through you instantly.

“What’s wrong? Is Sarah okay? Tommy?”

“Yes, they are fine, we need… we need to talk about you.”

“Me? Honey I’m fine, what do you mean?” Nervous laughter bubbles up in your throat, mind racing in every possible direction this conversation could go.

Joel rolls his lips together, glancing to your stomach then back to you. Your face is contorted with confusion, your grip tightening on his arms. “When… how long has it been since you’re last period?”

You scoff at his question, eyes rolling slightly as your posture relaxes. “Baby I don’t know, I haven’t been tracking it like I usually do. Between Carol and Tray calling out of work I’ve been given both of their projects to present, that’s two on top of my other two. And -.” You roll your eyes, temper rising, “and get this, two of them are so within three hours of each other, now how in the world am I supposed to-.”

“Darlin’.” Joel cuts off your rambling, one large hand shifting to your softer stomach, rubbing slow circles as he watches the confusion melt into realization and then back to panic as your eyes drop to your stomach.

“N-no… no Joel we.. we always use condoms.”

He gives you a look that says you’re lying through your teeth, which you are, there has been a few times over the past couple of months, after you’ve both had one to many drinks where you’ll wake up in the morning, slick between your thighs.

Joel watches your face pale, body shaking in his grasp and he pulls you a little closer with the hand on your hip. “How long?”

Swallowing you finally look at his face, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, expression pinched with… worry? Upset? Is he scared? Your own fears rise eyes flicking between his and something in his chest cracks open at the look on your face.

“M-maybe two months… I-I really don’t k-know.”

He nods, rubbing slow circles into your stomach, already knowing but needing to be sure. “Let’s take a trip to the store okay?”

*~*~*~*~*~*

You’re both quiet sitting on Joel’s bed, two positive pregnancy tests laying in between you. You are fighting back tears, stiff and trembling, waiting on Joel to blow up.

You’ve only been dating for three years, kids have never been a topic of discussion seeing as Joel already has Sarah, he’s been through the baby phase. Then there’s the fact you don’t officially live with him, though you’re apartment in the city is only visited when you need to do laundry. Almost every moment of the day is in this house or at work… does that me this will change everything?

“I’m… I’m so sorry Joel.” You finally whisper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.”

“What?”

“I should… I should of been on the pill, I should of been more careful… I didn’t mean to do this to you.” The absolute devastation in your voice makes Joel move, kneeling down in front of you like earlier, this time his hands are on your waist, thumbs stroking the sides of your changing belly.

“Don’t you dare talk like that, you didn’t do anything to me. Yes I’m scared, I’m scared shitless but fuck baby… I’m over the moon.” Your watery eyes dart to his and he’s smiling, joy shining in his soft drown eyes making something inside your body relax for the first time in hours. “Now… I know-I know we didn’t plan this but I mean… This is us. This right here.” He leans forward, pressing his lips to your stomach making you giggle breathlessly. “This is a part of me and a part of you that… God it’s so wonderful and you’re so wonderful and I love you so much, I love this so much.”

Tears brim his own beautiful eyes, hands gently squeezing your sides, curling into the fabric of your tank top as he searches your tear streaked face. “You my sweet girl, are going to be the most amazing mother.”

Whatever reservations, whatever doubts you were holding onto flood from your body with the shaky breath that escapes through your trembling lips, and without thought you lean down, capturing his lips in a kiss, one that pours every little emotion you don’t know how to communicate into him.

Joel stands, lips never leaving yours and pushes you back gently onto the bed, fitting himself between your legs as the kiss slowly turns hungry. You’re burning from the inside out, tears still escaping down your cheeks, as Joel settles himself over you, mindful of his weight.

“Shhh don’t cry honey.” He breaths, lips moving down to your jaw, working the skin with sloppy kisses.

You tilt your head back, body thrumming with sudden need. “H-happy tears.” You manage to squeak out, hands tugging at his t-shirt wantonly. “Joel… I want you, please I want you.” You beg, arching your back pressing your hips up against him searching for some form of friction.

“I know baby, just relax. I’ll take good care of you.” He mumbles against your throat, a hand finding your pajama shorts and tugging them down, exposing your bare cunt to the cold air. He sits back, pulling your shorts over your ankles with a low growl. “Fuck baby, you’re so wet for me already.” Joel swipes a fingers through your folds, gathering your juices and circling your clit.

You whine into the air, closing your eyes as another pulse of arousal shoots through you, heart hammering against your ribs. “Please… Don’t tease me please.” The tears now streaming down your cheeks are out of desperation, your hands finding his belt and yanking at the worn leather.

Joel only chuckles with a shake his head, helping you unbuckle the belt and open his jeans, shoving them down far enough for his cock to spring free. You groan at the sight, letting your legs fall further open as you grab a fist full of his t-shirt pulling him to you.

“Need my cock that bad baby? Can’t wait any longer?” He groans as he runs the tip along your soaked folds, bumping your swollen bud making your hips jerk.

You shake your head, watching his cock as he slowly presses the head into your opening, your lip caught between your teeth.

“Hey,” Joel’s fingers find your chin, lifting your gaze to his and he feels like he might blow his load then and there. Your eyes simmer with pure lust… pure list and want and love and your looking up at his through your long lashes making his breath hitch in his chest. “Eyes on me when I fuck you, wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum.”

“Y-Yes sir.” You nod weakly, head resting back on the pillows as you hook your ankles around his waist.

“What a good girl you are.” He slowly thrusts in, savoring how you stretch around him, always so tight and warm. A low moan falls from your lips, legs tightening around him encouraging him to go deeper and he obeys, sinking into you completely.

You both stay still for a moment, breaths labored and hearts pounding. Joel keeps himself propped up with one hand, the other pushing your shirt up just under your breasts, finding its place on your small bump.

Joel pulls out half way before sinking back in, moaning and closing his eyes briefly as he finds his pace, deep and slow making your eyes roll and body languid below his. You can feel each bump and ridge of his cock, rubbing your walls in just the right way that your orgasm builds quickly. “So pretty, always wanted to put a baby in you, never thought I’d get the chance.” Your pussy squeezes around him your soft whimpers follow. “Yeah? You like that?”

“F-fuck… yes Joel… yes.” Your grip tightens on his shirt, anchoring yourself to him as pressure begins to build in the base of your spine.

His voice drops, the timbre in his drawl making your blood thick in your veins, head heavy and empty. “Just gonna have ta’ keep you pregnant then, barefoot in ma kitchen, swollen with all my babies.” Joel’s thrusts speed up, his mental image of you driving him closer and closer to his own orgasm. “I need to feel you cum for me, cum on my cock baby.”

His fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you nearly scream, the pressure radiating out into your abdomen pulling your muscles tight. You nod feverishly, panting out some form of yess and please, teetering on the cusp of oblivion, just for him.

Joel groans, eyebrows drawn together and thrusts turning sloppy, he can feel your pussy spasming around him and he knows he won’t last much longer.

“Let it go baby, let it happen, cum on my dick like the good girl you are.”

And it snaps, the tension flooding from your body as your orgasm erupts, a silent scream forming your lips into that perfect O shape that Joel loves so much, and as your cunt clenches down on him he stills, rope after rope of thick cum painting your quivering walls. He moans loud and deep, a shudder raking through his body as his eyes close and he basks in the euphoria washing through him.

Your legs shake around his twitching hips, whining pitchy and out of breath and Joel finally moves his fingers from your sensitive clit, splaying his hand across your stomach.

“You’re gonna be such a good mama.”

*~*~*~*~*~*

You both wait until after your first doctors appointment to tell Sarah and Tommy, over a lovely family meal.

“This is so good.” Sarah mumbles out around a mouth full of homemade lasagna making everyone laugh.

“Thank you, it’s my mamas recipe.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours, a smile tugging at his lips as your heart pounds in your ears, ready to spill the beans like you’ve planted. “I hope one day I can pass it on to you and your little sibling.”

It takes Sarah a minute, but Tommy stops eating immediately, his eyes growing wide, head wiping up to look between you and his brother, the smile that spreads across his face makes your heart warm.

“Ooo I’d love to try and cook it with you some time, I like learning new…” The realization dawns on her then, her jaw dropping open, shock taking over her expression and Joel can’t help but laugh.

“Really?” Sarah turns to you, and you’re already nodding, tears filling your eyes at the same time hers do. “I’m going to be a sister?”

“Oh honey…” She’s out of her chair and crashing into your open arms in an instant, crying against your chest as you bury your face into her curls, holding on tightly.

Tommy embraces Joel, patting his back roughly as Joel beams, watching his two girls over Tommy’s shoulder. This moment, this instances is all he’s ever dreamt of.

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller #smut #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #apollyonsdarksecrets #pedro pascal #joel miller smut #the last of us smut #Joel Miller breeding #pregnancy #happy

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