#yes I’m keeping Ember

[frosty-tian]

When Boulder broke the news about the pregnancy.:

#rescue bots #transformers rescue bots #transformers #maccadam #rb boulder #graham burns #frosty babbles #cursed edit #mechpreg #mpreg #suggestive #(?) #or Kade and Heatwave #yes I’m keeping Ember #why the fuck do I sound like her parent #why the fuck am I saying all of this #why the fuck am I rambling #boulgram #couple #I guess I’m too tired/still a bit sick #and high (energy-wise) #normalcy later I hope #I’m still in the date so byyeeee #oaken burns (oc) #ember burns (oc)

[mellowsaturns]

starry nights

JOEL MILLER X READER

summary: late at night in the middle of nowhere, you and joel talk about the past… and the future

warnings: soft!joel my beloved, fluff, tiny bit of angst, heart to heart talk, idiots in love, mutual pining, friends to lovers, slight mentions of violence and loss 

wc: 1.3k

— — —

It’s Joel’s turn to keep watch when a low gentle voice brings him out of his concentration.

“Joel,” it whispers ever so softly. “Joel. Joooel.”

Turning his head, he meets your eyes from below.

“Why are you still up?” he gruffs.

You shrug your shoulders. “Can’t sleep.”

He pokes at the dwindling fire. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“I know,” you sigh. Snuggling out of your sleeping bag, you pivot your way over and sit next to him. “I think I’m just excited that we’re almost at our destination,” you say as you lean your back against the rockbed. The past three months have been rough—so much loss that you didn’t know how much more you could take.

Closing your eyes and tilting your head back, you take a deep breath in to savour the moment of peace and quiet before opening it back up again. “Hey,” you whisper while nudging Joel's arm. “Look at that.”

He follows your trail of sight and when his eyes adjust to the light, he couldn’t help but exhale in incredulity.

Because deep in the mountains, miles away from the nearest human civilization, a cluster of stars are shimmering above the two of you against the night sky.

The both of you admire it for a moment before you speak. “When was the last time you ever saw something so beautiful?” you ask breathlessly, turning your head over to him.

Joel doesn’t answer, just simply looks at you and you see that glint in his eyes again—a look you can’t decipher but never ask him about.

Ignoring it, you continue, “You know, this is actually kind of romantic.”

Joel’s forever thankful you don’t have some kind of super sonic hearing. Because the rate at which his heart’s beating was truly embarrassing.

Clearing his throat, he asks, “You ever been stargazing before? Like… on a date?”

You laugh, “God, no. No one ever did anything that romantic for me. How about you? I bet you were a real ladies man.”

He lets out a low chuckle thinking about the old days. “I was not.”

You snort. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“Well, that’s the honest truth. Never really paid attention to them.”

“Oh, so you were the hard-to-get type, huh?” you tease.

From the small ember of light, you see a flush of pink creeping over his cheeks and you smile in triumph. It’s hard to get Joel flustered and you take in the moment to revel in that small victory.

Maybe it was the serene surroundings and the rare moment of safety but there’s a calm and comfortableness between the two of you—almost like the world wasn’t in ruins and you were on some camping trip pre-outbreak having a chat hours before dawn.

“I’m just teasing,” you say. “But do you think I would’ve had a chance?”

He perks up at your comment. “What?”

You can’t deny the fact that you had a crush on him. Have carried this feeling ever since Tommy first introduced you to the group. And that feeling has only gotten stronger ever since you embarked on this journey with him.

You bite your bottom lip nervously. “I mean…” you gulp, “If we met before the outbreak… Do you think you would have looked my way?”

Joel freezes. Completely freezes in his spot.

Reading his expression your heart races in panic. “I—I don’t know why I asked you that,” you stammer. “Jesus—I must be out of my goddamn mind,” you mumble, looking down in embarrassment. “It’s probably the lack of oxygen up here. My brain isn’t working. I’m sorr—”

“Yes,” he blurts out.

You snap your head up. “What?”

Swallowing a nervous breath, he admits, “I… We… Of course I would’ve.” A pause. Then, “I already do.”

“Really?” you whisper with that same glint in your eyes.

After spending years working together, he’s surprised you haven’t caught on yet. He’s not the best at expressing his feelings and tries to lock it up, but it slips sometimes—more times than he liked, because in spite of everything, his heart’s defenceless with you.

He had so many things he wanted to say. Like if he had met you then, he would’ve been the happiest guy on fucking earth. That he’d bring you your favourite flowers and take you out on unprompted dates—like seeing the stars in the back of his pickup truck. Afterwards, he’d take you home and shower you with his love—if you’d let him.

And Sarah would have loved you too.

It sort of pains his heart to think about the Joel from another lifetime ago. But if the conditions were a little better and the two of you weren’t trekking in the wilderness day and night, he’d still want to do the same, if you’d give him the chance too.

But he’s unable to get the right words out. After years of rough survival, he isn’t exactly the best at this romance thing anymore.

So he just nods slowly, hoping you’ll understand what he’s trying to say.

Your attempt at stifling your grin fails. Even though Joel never elaborates on his comment—borderline confession—you wrap it around your heart because nothing more needs to be said.

Something shifts in the cold mountain air and your heart beats with joy.

But at the same time, your heart aches at the memories of the past.

“Do you think the world could ever go back to how it was before?” you wonder.

The question falls silent between the two of you.

In truth, Joel doesn’t know if the world was ever going to get better.

But in that moment, for the first time in many years, it’s different from all the other times you asked. Because for a split second, there’s a lingering feeling of hope between the two of you—at Ellie who’s sleeping a few feet away, whom the both of you care for greatly, more than the two of you would like to admit.

Once everything goes according to plan, maybe he’d actually be able to do all the things he wanted to do with you. He’d have to make up for all the years missed, but it would be easy, Joel thinks, because there wouldn’t be a need to constantly look over his shoulders anymore.

“It could,” he says curtly.

You smile at him. At his optimism. So different from the Joel you met years ago. He was always hard-headed. Always a pragmatist. But ever since the three of you left Boston, his heart’s gotten softer and you see flashes of the version of Joel that Tommy always talks about. It doesn't help your heart at all.

“The first thing I’d do is retire,” you announce, stretching your legs dramatically. You were sick of being a smuggler.

Joel lets out a tired laugh, no doubt thinking the same thing. “... I’d want an old farmhouse, some land… a ranch. I would raise sheep.”

You chuckle at his words. “Ah. Like a true Texan.”

Maybe there was something waiting for you in Wyoming. Maybe the two, perhaps three, of you could live that sought after idyllic life together.

That dream was still days away but you don’t deny the good feeling brewing in your chest. All that loss and violence must have been for something, right?

“You should get some sleep,” Joel says, pulling you out of your little reverie.

“Already told you, I’m not tired,” you reply, but minutes later, you’re fast asleep on Joel’s shoulder.

He looks at you fondly, then back up at the flickering sky and wonders if a shooting star had passed by earlier unbeknownst to him and heard all his desires.

Pressing a gentle kiss on top of your head, he goes back to guard duty, a little more Joel Miller than before.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller fanfiction

[jhuzen]

terms of service [m.reader]

what do you mean it’s been a whole week since i said i’d post this? pretty sure today is still tonight. anyway, this is based on this godly ask! this is… extra long. i’m sorry i got carried away 😭 it’s honestly going to be a lot longer if i didn’t cut out some scenarios. jadiksodc.

𖦹 nsfw, top reader, virgin haitham i literally have no idea what else to say.

“Have you ever even gotten laid?”

Alhaitham’s eyes stopped at the last sentence of another book he’s buried his nose into. The night was quiet — save for the sounds of the burning embers from the campfire as well as the snores of one tiny fairy that laid beside you. The nights are cold in the desert, but it sure was enough to keep him awake. He’s been searching for ways to solve the problem with the suspicious Grand Sage, and you were kind enough to help.

You were revered across all lands apparently — even reaching the isolated Inazuma before the vast Sumeru in the first place. And while Alhaitham has every confidence in his own knowledge and meticulously calculated strategies in solving problems, he wasn’t one to take away credit from you, who protected him and fended off any other Eremites that tried to cut off his plan.

He found you reserved, keeping to yourself while the tiny floating chatterbox spoke for you like she was your advisor. You did find yourself talking to him at times, but most of it was either your agreements in his plans, your little snide remarks when he did something that both you and your flying companion considered as remotely pretentious. And quite frankly, he did not want to expend any form of effort to defend himself. If that’s how he came across to you, then so be it.

However, even with the limited time that he’s known you, he never pegged you for someone this… sheer.

In fact, he never expected it so much that he even did his own version of a double take, looking up at you with eyes that brimmed with curiosity and slight surprise. And yet, there you were, casually polishing your sword so diligently, tongue sticking out in determination with your brows furrowed in concentration.

Like you never asked him such a… question.

The scribe had half a mind to ignore your sudden query — chalk it up into a auditory hallucination and continue on with his reading. But his mind knew better; that if he left it at that, he would be perturbed until the end of his days, and Alhaitham is a practical man, meaning he’d rather get the trouble you suddenly placed on him out of the way than go through such feelings.

“Pardon?”

“Hm?”

Alhaitham narrowed his eyes, were you now planning to pretend like you never asked the question in the first place? He cleared his throat, “You said something. And I think I misheard. Care to repeat?”

Your gaze met his before blinking, “Oh. I was just asking if you’ve even ever gotten laid in the first place,” you laughed while you turned back to your well-groomed sword, continuing to polish it with refined movements. “Sorry, it’s an out of the line question, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” he curtly replied, but even he could not extinguish the sudden curiosity that rose from him. “Though why even ask me that question seeing that you’re fully aware the invasive nature of it in the first place? What spurred this on?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing much, really. It’s just that you’re good looking but you seem to be the type to not… invest your time in those activities.” Alhaitham wonders where all that cutthroat honesty goes every time you go radio silent within the last few days, barely letting out a peep to talk to anyone while Paimon did the talking for you.

Alhaitham scoffed nonetheless. It was such a shallow reason for you to ask that. Surely pure aesthetics is not a prerequisite to have sex. “Is it a requirement to engage in such activities if I am pleasing to look at?”

Your lips turned up in a cheeky smile as you tore your eyes away from your blade, looking up at the stoic scribe with a mischievous mirth glinting through your eyes, “Well. You eat with your eyes too, right?”

A laugh escapes from your system when Alhaitham instantly made a face. He’s not stupid (far from it really, and the entire Akademiya knows) — he knows the preconceived notions to these play of words. He reeled back at the innuendo, partly taken aback. Just what on earth have you been thinking despite your persistent silence to come up with something as crude as that?

He composed himself, eyes averting from yours and looking back down to resume his reading; but his mind was far from the focus he always maintained when occupied with books.

Alhaitham chewed on his bottom lip discreetly before giving an answer he deemed relatively satisfactory, “…I have no interest for such things. And don’t things like these need to have prior connection in the first place? I’d rather not have attachments to someone. It’s far too bothersome.”

“Oh so that’s why,” you hummed, this time your attention fixated in refining your sword handle. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to experience new things. And I can even help you. No strings attached.” You offered in a light jest, followed by a chuckle after.

It was a joke offer, of course. You of all people knew that when Alhaitham didn’t want something, he will steer clear from it. However, you only found him remotely interesting because he was so bloody shady in the first place. He was supposed to be an honorable scribe, being held at such a high position, and yet he was dubious enough to even make you buy forbidden cans of knowledges, and even with the partnership you’ve got going on now, you’d find yourself unable to sleep so freely without so much as expecting him to suddenly jump on you.

You simply found him interesting. And true to your love language (that your little traveling companion is often the recipient of), you couldn’t help but tease him, a little prying at something as intimate and private as his sex life (which you now knew to be nonexistent). Just a little jest to mess with him for your entertainment. That’s all.

However Alhaitham had much different perception to your lighthearted teasing. You… were offering him something so intimate as sex with no strings attached. While anyone with a right mind could quickly brush it off as a mere joke with no promises — Alhaitham was quick to entertain the thought of doing it with you without having to suffer the consequences of being in a relationship with someone.

No strings attached, huh. He pursed his lips, eyebrows knitting a little as he mulled over what seems to be an option (though there never was as it was only a joke from your end).

The thought enticed him. Of course, he was doing this for academic purposes and to satisfy the now insatiable curiosity that you placed upon him like an irreversible curse with one specific cure.

He stole a glance from where you sat as he recalled the many times you’ve managed to smooth talk your way into certain situations back in Port Ormos. Exuding confidence and sharp wit, along with a charming face that no one can say no to — also with your… beliefs earlier, Alhaitham was quick to deduce that you are a man whose had plenty of experience in sex. You were most definitely the kind to frolic around with anyone that suits your fancy, especially with how easily you offered to help him like it’s a simple favor from a colleague and nothing more.

The silence that engulfed your group (again, subtracting the snores from Paimon) soon broke when Alhaitham decided to go head in for the kill.

“Okay.”

“What?”

There was a sense of satisfaction that flooded his system when you looked up with a confused look on your pretty face.

Alhaitham cooly brushed off the flustering feeling that slowly nestled into the pits of his stomach, his stomach knotting in anticipation at the thought of taking you up on your generous little offer, “I agree to what you’re offering,” he refused to look at you, continuing to read the words that were barely coherent in his mind now, trying to look as composed as possible. “Just to satisfy certain questions from this sort of activity of course.”

You tilted your head at him, cocking an eyebrow, “Right… so you want to have sex?”

He coughed, “For research purposes.”

“If I had a mora for every time I heard that excuse, I wouldn’t worry about Paimon’s endless appetite by now,” you laughed. “But knowing you, you’re probably telling the truth.”

You were met with a silence from the scribe. Make no mistake however, he was stewing in absolute embarrassment — only glad that his headphones were able to cover up his ears that are sure to be burning up a bright red hue.

“…Are we doing it now?”

He sucked in a sharp breath, “Absolutely not. We have a mission, traveler. And doing such a thing outside… is sure to provide a less than stellar experience.”

You huffed out a laugh before stabbing your blade on the ground, “Man, you really are a virgin. And you have no idea how many freaks are out there that can do it outside even in the midst of a thunderstorm.” It was an exaggeration, but the look of mortification that was plastered on Alhaitham’s usually unfazed face was all the more entertaining. “Anyway, if you’re really serious, then who am I to back out? We’ll finish up this mission quick and then you can ring me up any time.”

Alhaitham could only give a strained nod before finally finding the words on his pocketbook a little more understandable as his mind cleared.

The last grueling days was nothing short of eventful, to say the least. You were somehow able to pull off in fighting an all too big of a god’s body with the vengeful puppet inside. You freed Nahida too, kicked Azar off of his position and destroyed the beloved Akasha that the people of Sumeru found themselves completely dependent on. It was like a blur, with you constantly on the run to ensure that every plan works in your favor, though you weren’t one to take away from Cyno and the rest — with their dutiful cooperation.

And now, you were hailed as a hero in Sumeru much like your past adventures in the last three nations, awarded as Buer’s first Sage added in the roster of your many, many titles. You were celebrated around and all you’ve ever wanted was to go inside your beloved teapot and sleep.

And that you did.

The next days were spent in leisure around Sumeru, getting along with anyone in the vicinity, often offered goods for gratitude. Paimon accepted every single food and you soon found yourself in need to build another display bedside table to decorate with trinkets you’ve received. It was relatively normal for you at least.

And the same could be said for Alhaitham. He can finally do his job with little to no inconvenience now that Azar and his corrupted lackeys aren’t around, banished off to the forests to do whatever is needed to compensate for their misgivings. The boring but doable work on a high pay returned and Alhaitham was at peace.

Up until Lesser Lord Kusanali came to his office, and with the tiny pitter patter of her feet against the cold floors of Akademiya, she walked to his desk with an expectant smile plastered on her adorable face.

Suddenly, Alhaitham was the Acting Grand Sage.

Great. More work for a considerably smaller increase in pay. How… productive and worth it.

And perhaps, that’s how you landed yourself in the confines of Alhaitham’s home in the dead of the night — at his request. His roommate was off and a few days prior after suddenly getting dragged into assisting him in catching another unhinged research with far too much talent yet little intent in seeing the bigger picture, he had asked you to come meet him at night. And he made it very clear to you that you come alone.

You were already aware of the Acting Grand Sage’s insinuation at this point. You’ve been through enough worlds and mingled with enough people to know the universal sign that is “come here alone tonight”.

Well, either you get laid, or… you will be laid in a coffin the next day.

Now here you sat, smiling a little as you sipped some water, watching Alhaitham dry off the droplets of water from his hair after a late night shower. You opted to look over some files strewn across the table to entertain yourself, trying to make sense of any of his work. Judging from the complicated nature of said paperwork, you figured he was already raring for some release. Or at the very least, a change of pace in learning something new other than the onslaught of mad researchers from Akademiya causing trouble for him to fix.

“I have some terms,” Alhaitham suddenly voiced out, pulling you out of your trance as you looked at him inquisitively. You nodded, letting him go on. “Nobody gets to hear a word of what will transpire tonight.”

“…I don’t think I even want anyone to know in the first place.”

He nodded before walking back to some shelves, “Also,” he grabbed a book and tossed it on the table, perfectly sliding towards you with the cover face up. “I’ve done some reading just to know what to expect.”

You huffed out a breath, disguising a genuinely amused laughter. Couldn’t your one night stand get any cuter? He wasn’t even trying too. He was so earnest and so serious, it was hard not to devour him right then and there. You placed your glass of water down the table sauntering up to him, grabbing the lecherous book that he apparently used to come into the battle prepared.

Alhaitham’s eyes widened as you wasted no time in closing the gap. His ears effectively reddening in a split second when he could feel your crotch rub up against his from the sheer proximity that you and the scribe had. There was even barely any room to breathe in the first place. His lips quivered a little as he looked to the side, avoiding your piercing gaze.

You tapped the corner of the book’s spine on his lips, while yours turned up in a sly grin, “Cast aside any expectation that this book have taught you, smart guy. I believe there is merit in learning from experience.” You tossed the book back as your lips latched onto the skin of his neck. You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent of his body wash. You could feel and hear him shiver from just that action alone, spurring you on to be bolder.

Of course Alhaitham knows that experience is a far better teacher than anything else. But how could he learn anything when the experience itself is detrimental to his sanity as he tried to comprehend your ministrations, from the way your hands were quick to attach themselves onto his narrow waist, your lips slowly mapping and conquering every inch of the skin of his neck, abused with bites that left bruises darker than the decorative rugs in his home.

You pulled away and he was left completely red, you leaned back to admire the work you’ve done on his neck and his collarbone, adorned with splotches of red from the abuse of your mouth.

But before Alhaitham could even recover, you went back in, but this time with your lips on his, “Try to keep up, smart guy. Here’s a crash course on how to kiss someone.”

Alhaitham could barely breathe, but even in the sweet suffocation, he tried to keep up with your lips. You made a mess out of him, your mischievous tongue dragging from the inside of his mouth to his lips to wet them. His jaw hurt and he was out of sorts, with drool dripping down to his chin while you sucked on his tongue, your hands under around his chin to keep him in place. He could only grab onto your shoulders, fingers squeezing against your flesh so tight while he closed his eyes shut, his chest heaving from the breathlessness when you refused to let up on him.

It was already dizzying — he knew you were aggressive on the battlefield, but had he known that you would be like this too, a little warning would’ve been nice.

And before he knew it, still with your lips latched onto his, he started to respond to your advances. Miraculously even with his clouded mind with that lusty haze, he was able to learn from your little techniques, kissing back with need and urgency, and you gladly welcomed him, letting him bite your lip as a test, return the favor as he sloppily sucked your tongue off with the charm of an inexperienced kisser.

It was a mess as you and him stumbled over to the his bedroom, with poor Alhaitham barely noticing until his back landed on the soft mattress of his bed. His eyes were glossed over, clearly in a daze as you pulled away, chuckling at the sight of the infamous stoic scribe who normally looks so put together come undone and become a complete mess with just a simple make out session.

You swiped a thumb over his wet lips, dragging it across his cheek and watched in delight when he slowly gained a bit of clarity.

“We haven’t even gotten to the best part yet, ‘Haitham.”

Alhaitham only scoffed, “You kiss so aggressively. A warning would’ve sufficed.”

“Aw c’mon. It’s just a little warmup,” you tugged into the hem of his shirt and he quickly got the hint, helping you take them off. You only watched in fascination as his body came into view. That tight shirt that he always wore doesn’t do his body justice. He was sculpted so perfectly that even you had to pause for a second to take in his beauty.

The scribe wasn’t fond of your ogling however, “…What?”

“Nothing… it’s just…” you couldn’t even resist the way your hands immediately gravitated towards his chest, palms flat against his pecs before steadily moving them to yours, comparing your sizes. “…Wow. You’re bigger than I am.”

“Do I get a trophy for that then?” Alhaitham quipped without missing a beat.

Unfortunately for him, you were quick-witted, cruel, and knew how to show someone a good time. And you gladly indulged his little jest as you bent down, cupping a hand around one chest, thumbing at his hardening nipple while you gave soft kitten licks on his other swollen bud. An electric feeling jolts through Alhaitham’s system and he could feel himself twitch against the restricting fabric of his pants.

You smirked against his skin, teeth grazing his sensitive nipple, making him jolt and grab onto the back of your head. You raised yourself, watching unabashed while Alhaitham tried to cover up his reddening face. Either this situation was embarrassing enough on it’s own or perhaps he was embarrassed that he liked what you did.

“D-Don’t… look at me like that,” came Alhaitham’s weak protest, voice shaking as he tried to avert his gaze.

“Getting all shy now?” You tilted your head, looking at him with so much amusement. You did not have an ounce of regret for offering jokingly in the first place. To see the hardheaded scribe fold like a shy maiden was something you never knew you needed. “Come now, Alhaitham, it’s not something to be ashamed about. Focus up, buddy. You said this is for research.”

“Quit… i— ah~! Quit it—!” He moaned in between hisses as you shifted your position, with one knee pressing up against his erection with much pressure. It was as if the soft spoken yet courageous hero revered across the lands suddenly disappeared — replaced by this mischievous teasing deviant that toyed with him so shamelessly.

“You make it so easy to tease you,” your hands slowly dragged themselves to the waistband of his pants, tugging at the band and snapping it against his skin. “Is this why our scribe— oh, sorry, our Grand Sage has to keep that no nonsense facade? So they won’t know that you’re just an adorable little boy?”

He clutched onto your wrists that threatened to free his cock from its constraint, “It’s Acting Grand Sage… and it’s not a facade— are you always this chatty when having sex with someone?”

“I’m just trying to get to know you,” you flashed him a grin and his grip on you slowly loosened, a wordless green light to finally see all of him. You obliged his little permission, tugging down his pants and stripping them off of him with little effort. Alhaitham made a subconscious effort of trying to shield himself from your prying eyes — never had he felt this vulnerable before, he could feel his entire body heat up just from the way you looked at him.

Meanwhile you were admiring every groove and curve that sculpted itself into this man’s body. You would most definitely be the envy of the entire Sumeru City had they known that you were the first man to have ever seen Alhaitham this way. Suddenly, the Acting Grand Sage’s term of not wanting anyone else to know about this engagement seemed so tempting to break.

You positioned yourself in between his legs, keeping them apart when Alhaitham so much as tried to close his legs on instinct, you cupped a hand around the base of his cock and relished in the tiny little yelp that left Alhaitham’s mouth, his back arching up in surprise.

“Already so hard, you truly are enjoying this,” you taunt, as if you weren’t feeling the same uncomfortable feeling in your tightening pants. With one hand, you dug into the pocket of your trousers, bringing out a packet of slime condensate and tearing it open, squeezing a handful on your fingers. “I think you know what this is for.”

Alhaitham only nodded, suddenly meek as the insinuation made its presence known. He read a lot for the sake of satiating the gnawing anticipation within him the moment he agreed with your little offer. Alhaitham, after all, never did nurture the bad habit of coming into a situation completely clueless and in the dark. But there was something far more dizzying at the feeling of your touches that could make him feverish, overtaking his senses like a fever dream that he could feel the whole way.

He shivered as your fingers pressed against his rim, drenched in cold lubrication. He lifted his hips out of instinct, his body slowly being compliant to your actions, readily following your bold lead. You took note of his actions, watching the way his chest heaved up in a frantic pace, clearly overwhelmed in anticipation.

“Try to relax,” you ought to soothe his anxieties. Sex isn’t something to be afraid of, after all. It’s meant to be enjoyed by the parties involved. He only nodded, a little strained but it was enough.

An uncharacteristic wail leaves Alhaitham’s mouth as you plunged two fingers inside him. He was warm, his walls already clenching around your digits that were barely even halfway inside. He shifted, hips wriggling at the discomfort. You distracted him from the sensation and slowly worked your other hand around his erection, pumping at a gentle pace.

Alhaitham felt breathless, the haze in his mind continuing to muddle any form of coherent thought that he tried to make. He whimpered quietly as the embarrassment slowly flooded in. He could barely gather himself as you’re jerking him off while fucking him with your fingers, any sense of awareness leaving him bit by bit, replaced with the unencumbered lust that you were holding over him with your ministrations.

“Feels good?” Your words barely registered in his usually sharp mind. He nodded frantically, hands clutching the sheets underneath him. It felt all too good, with your precise hands, from the way you prod around his gummy walls to how you teasingly thumb at the slit of his cockhead, it was an overwhelming pleasure that Alhaitham was suddenly being exposed to.

You weren’t any better. Who knew Alhaitham could look so erotic, his body almost close into going in an autopilot as he responded to your touch with little to no shame. The whimpers and cries that echoed in the room were music to your ears, a blessing to indulge yourself in.

It was hard to hold yourself back from just fucking him into oblivion, and your sentiments wee shared as another cry left Alhaitham.

“M-More~” he whined, completely insatiable as he yearned for something bigger. Your fingers weren’t enough. He needs to feel full, something that could stretch him out until he could barely think. He opened his eyes, bleary with lust and carnal need in comparison to yours that were gleaming with concentration and hunger. “M-More please~” he parroted, unable to find any more words to beg you.

You could feel any form of restraint leaving you as his pleading reached you, already shooting straight down to your dick that twitched in anticipation and raw excitement. You immediately pulled your fingers away, shivering at the moan that you drew out of the man underneath you. Your hands quickly worked to free your own cock, hard and throbbing as it slapped against your stomach. There was a sense of satisfaction that washed over you at the way Alhaitham’s eyes grew wide when he saw you, like a cold water drenching him and pulling him back down to reality.

“Is… that even going to fit?” Alhaitham’s sudden reluctance was all the more endearing, making you laugh.

“I prepared you, didn’t I? But hey, the confidence solely lies on you. If you think you can’t handle it, best we quit ahead.”

He swallowed a lump down his throat before looking at you with a much more determined gaze, “I— N-No… I need to see it through.”

“You can hold my hand if you want,” you offered, lending out your own hand. Normally, Alhaitham would swat it away but did otherwise as he held yours, feeling feverish all of a sudden at the intimacy.

He could feel himself shrink as you positioned yourself in between his legs, towering over him with a reassuring smile. His thighs quivered around you while you lined yourself up in his entrance. He shuddered as your cockhead slowly rubbed up against his entrance, making him writhe in anticipation. Alhaitham met your gaze, suddenly considerate in contrast to your teasing self earlier.

“Don’t think too much of it,” you reassured him one last time. “Just ride out everything that you’re feeling.” You said and he nodded, soaking up every word of yours as he took a deep breath.

Alhaitham jolts at the sudden intrusive feeling once you ease yourself inside him inch by inch. He was quick to clench around your cock and you stopped, heaving a shaky sigh as the feeling of his warm walls around you bring you complete and utter bliss.

“Fuck… so tight, ‘Haitham,” you breathed out, a pleased hiss from your lips with every pulsating clench his walls made around your cock.

The scribe could barely process the feeling as he slowly took you in, his hole squeezing your length while you continued to push inside until you’re buried to the hilt. His hand squeezed around yours tightly as he tried to take in your words earlier and ride out any form of sensation that racked through his body. He could already feel the numbing pleasure rake in his system as the overwhelming sensation continued to eat away at his sensibilities.

You stilled yourself as you watched every expression Alhaitham’s pretty face contorted into. You only swept away his fringe away from his forehead that’s already dotted with beads of sweat and continued to observe him. You’ve never been this considerate when it comes to fucking someone, but given the fact that Alhaitham was just far too adorable, you made a conscious effort to be more gentle in his first time.

It didn’t take long before Alhaitham slowly rolled his hips, in terrible need for some more friction, “Y-You can move…” he stammered, still with his hand clutching onto yours so tightly.

You grinned a little before drawing your hips back and giving a testing thrust, pushing out a choked moan from the scribe, to which you greedily indulged in. Leaning in, you only gave a quick kiss on the shell of his ear before whispering;

“Don’t fall in love now.”

Alhaitham merely scoffed at your little taunt.

As if he would.

Miscalculations are rare in Alhaitham’s lifetime. Often times he’s mapped out every single action to consider to ensure a smooth sailing plan that he has to execute. Failure was a rare occurrence in the scribe— sorry, the Acting Grand Sage’s roster. He has yet to achieve a failure so spectacular that it puts his roommate to shame.

However, the way his eyes lingered on your form while you went about your day while you extended your stay in Sumeru was quick to tell him that the very idea of a miscalculation may not be so far-fetched in the first place.

And he absolutely loathed it.

It had been days since his… little research that you aided him in. Days since he felt the wonderful bliss of the mind numbing pleasure that only left his mind completely broken and incoherent. Days since he could feel the way your hands roamed around with such preciseness that every touch you left on him left him completely breathless. It had been days.

So then why? Why does he feel the same exhilaration whenever you were in the vicinity?

Why could he not push the thoughts of that night in the back of his mind? It was a skill he mastered that procured his unbothered persona. But the memories persisted like a parasite, latching onto his poor mind as it replayed the same night over and over again;

“H-Hah~! T-Too much already—!” Poor Alhaitham slurred, words barely able to convey while he held onto your hand for dear life, his eyes rolling at the back of his head while you pounded into him without an ounce of mercy. The bed creaked so violently under your movements, and his body shook in overstimulation.

“Just a little more, baby boy, one more, yeah?” You licked your lips hungrily, a predatory gaze flashing through your eyes as you devoured your prey.

Alhaitham winced as he slowly arched his back, suddenly feeling restless in his usual seat outside of Puspa café. Of all places, why couldn’t you have decided to chat with the nearby vendors. Where he can hear you and bury his mind into a delusion of bliss after hearing those sinful sounds from you when you bedded him that night. It was torture.

It was like a siren’s call, beckoning for him to give into his temptation. Except it was an excruciating thing to experience, drowning in that voice of yours that he could no longer hear normally.

“Oh! Isn’t that Alhaitham there?” He had to hide another grimace as the familiar shrill voice of your traveling companion echoed.

“So it is, let’s go say hi,” you smiled while you walked over to him, inviting yourself in without an ounce of embarrassment, like you didn’t make a mess out of him that particular night. “Been awhile.”

He could only stiffly nod before turning back to his book, “Mhm.”

“Yeesh! You’re just as cold as always! Hmph! Well, whatever. Paimon is going to get some food for herself.”

And just like that, there was silence in both of your company.

“Hey, you look really tense,” you frowned in concern and Alhaitham only continued to read into his book with an absent concentration that only served him to read the first lines of the paragraph over and over again. “I didn’t scare you now, did I?”

Alhaitham shuddered as the feeling of your touch slowly took over when your hands grazed by his shoulder in an attempt to console him. And the hauntingly addicting touches of yours continued to resurface in his mind.

A wanton squeal escapes Alhaitham as your fingers dug deep into the skin of his waist. He had little to no escape with the way you held him, hands completely sinking into his supple flesh to keep him in place. There was a rush of excitement that flooded Alhaitham’s system when you took hold of him in such a manner — possessive and almost desperate.

His already spent dick twitched at the notion, the very idea of you being all over him and wanting no one else but him. He wanted you to feel the same feeling that slowly poisoned his thoughts — that you would enjoy him just as much as he was enjoying you being so deep inside him.

He panted, short huffs leaving his wet lips that you vigorously licked, kissed, and bit until the both of you could taste his blood. He was a mess, from the marks on his collar down to the way even your fingertips made their bruising mark when you manhandled him.

Suddenly those touches burned through his skin, like you left them there just seconds ago. He was slowly feeling feverish. He could still remember which parts of him you touched, the way the uncomfortable feeling of your grip pressing against his soft skin was enough to get him on a state of frenzy.

You were far too intoxicating.

And without even an ounce of warning, he was suddenly met with your skeptic expression, clear as a day as you drew yourself nearer to his side, with your face a mere inch away from his. He could feel your even breathing, and could see those heavenly eyes of yours that peered through your thick lashes as you continued to put him on the spot with your own form of scrutiny.

“Tell me the truth, I didn’t scare you away from what happened nights ago, did I?”

He resisted the urge to swallow thickly — you may not be as smart as he is, but you were perceptive, already proven by the mere fact that you were quick to guess that his strange actions towards you did indeed stem from that amorous engagement you and him explored. Unable to focus on your minuscule concern, his gaze drifted down to your lips that formed into a frown, with your bottom lip jutting out a little in a very subtle pout.

Those lips. That mouth that often spoke of every proclamation and promise to aid whoever was in need of help, no matter how annoyingly minuscule the requests are.

His ears burned under his noise-cancelling headphones, finding himself completely unable to shut out the loud thrumming of his heart against his chest.

Who would’ve thought that mouth of yours were just as capable of delving into something incredibly lewd — that mouth that spoke valor suddenly speaking in the most flustering taunts that drove him over the edge.

Sobs spilled out from Alhaitham’s quivering lips, tears already flooding his ducts while you rutted into him like a dog in heat. The desperation in your thrusts were pushing up against his nearing release as your cock continued to abuse his prostate.

The overwhelming pleasure didn’t help as you busied yourself on his chest. You couldn’t leave it alone, your mouth already latching onto one of his sensitive and perky buds. Your tongue swirled against his swollen nipple and tore out another loud moan from the scribe. He was helpless against your ministrations. He could feel his stomach stir despite the fact that he was so sure he couldn’t cum anymore.

His hand shakily raked through the back of your head, biting his lip to keep himself composed.

You swiped your tongue against his nipple, looking up at him with a devious smirk, “Are you sure nothing’s coming out of these?”

“‘M… not a woman—” he protests in a weak voice, raspy from all the screams you drew out of him from coaxing orgasm after orgasm from him. “S-Stop saying that…”

“Getting embarrassed again?” You grinned, drawing your hips before snapping back into him, making him whine from the raw pleasure. “Aren’t you just the cutest~”

He isn’t. He’s far from such a description. Alhaitham knows that well. He was the intimidating figure of Akademiya, with his unbothered stoicism that could leave anyone scampering without the intention of screwing him over in the first place. But he hates how you’ve rendered him completely useless with just your words and subtle touches that quickly disarmed his guard that he put up several times already.

He loathes the mere fact that he couldn’t get you out of his head. Surely not all people that go through one night stands invoke such feelings of warm fondness towards someone they aren’t meant to be attached to. He’s not supposed to feel flustered just at the mere sight of you. He’s not supposed to feel vulnerable with your smiles. And he’s not supposed to feel the tempting submission with every touch you left on his body.

Alhaitham was quick to push your face away before running a hand through his own with a begrudging sigh, “…I am currently undergoing through a crisis. Please let me acquire some space for a good few minutes.”

He hates your dichotomy — from your ridiculously odious attitude when you fucked him, to your sudden gentleness when you were done and even the subsequent days after that.

You nodded in understanding (something he’d grown to fondly hate as well) with a patient smile, “Of course. How ‘bout I go get us some baklava? My treat.”

Your offer was oddly reminiscent of your aftercare too.

“Hope you can forgive the roughness. It’s your first time too,” he paid no heed to your apology. In fact, you’ve nothing to apologize for when you’ve granted him such a good fuck for his first time. He only relished in the feeling of your ghostly kisses against the bruises you made on him. “I’ll go get you some water. Need anything else?”

He was already dozing off by then.

He waved you off, more than eager to get you out of the way as the realizations slowly linked themselves in his constantly running mind.

Alhaitham dragged a hand over his face, repressing the urge to groan when he remembered your little taunt before this all happened.

“Don’t fall in love now.”

And damn it did he fall hard.

#i am an idiot #but a simp #anyway #i am very late #but heeeeyyyy better late than never 😭 #genshin impact x male reader #alhaitham x male reader #sub genshin impact #sub alhaitham #jhuzen’s stupid one shots #jhuzen’s shameless filth #there’s an hsr post i’m posting minutes after this #tall 2d husbands go brrrr in my gay little head

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

Sketch me down, see me through – pt. 2

Summary: A couple of days after the sketch, things got a bit more complicated than what you expected

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Words: 4.4k

Warnings: mentions of blood/sex/abuse, bit of violence, Astarion is a bit of a bitch but what's new, physical touch as a love language, first kiss, fluff

A/N: Enjoy the second part of this Astarion fic, here you can find Part 1 <3 (i wanted to post this tomorrow but i don't know how to queue posts correctly so @tripleyeeet @yn-ymn-yln enjoy!)

\_/

The cold light of the moon woke you up. It had slithered into your tent, bathing your pillow —and thus your face— with its silvery shine. You turned around, trying to fall back into your warm slumber, but with no luck.

Your head started roaming, thinking too much about everything. About the last few days and the subtle changes in Astarion’s behavior, his lingering gazes and the tension that stiffened his body every time you happened to tug him playfully or accidentally bump into him.

It was confusing, to say the least; making you rethink everything and pondering twice on every word you said before even uttering it.

With an irritated sigh, you pulled yourself up, sitting on your blankets as you stretched your neck and sore muscles. With another groan, you put on your boots and then walked outside.

The fire had burnt out, leaving behind just a few glowing embers that were bound to soon become cold, lifeless ash. The air stung the bare skin of your arms, colder than what you expected. You soon got used to it, thankful to that chillness for waking you up. Apart from a couple of owls shrieking in the distance and the snoring coming from some of the tents surrounding you, the camp was calm, a small Eden…

A rustling of leaves broke the silence, followed by some muffled swearing. Before you could reach for the dagger in your boot, a figure stumbled out of the woods, barely keeping themselves up. After a couple of unbalanced steps, the silhouette managed to stop, taking a deep breath as he straightened up, passing his hands through his silver hair.

“Astarion?”

“Oh.”

The moment he noticed it was you in the shadows, Astarion quickly passed his hands on his shirt, brushing away the leaves and branches that had stuck on the fabric. Then his signature smile was back on his lips, his grin as smug as ever as he leaned against a nearby tree.

“Hello, darling.”

“What are you doing out here?”

“I was performing my duty and keeping watch.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he scanned you, his eyes moving slowly up and down your body. “What about you, sweetheart?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged, trying to ignore his piercing gaze. “Too many thoughts.”

“Ah, yes.” He nodded, his focus shifting to his fingers. “I am familiar with the notion.”

You watched closely as he picked his nails. What you first mistook for a nervous fidgeting revealed to be something different, a thorough cleaning that also had to do with the red streaks on his shirt —barely visible in the darkness— and those same scarlet hues that painted his fingers and the corners of his mouth.

You narrowed your eyes, putting both of your hands on your hips; in the same way your mother used to when she found out you had done something that was against her rules.

“Why were you lurking in the forest?”

He chuckled, showing the tip of his canines and his teeth, still blood stained. “Lurking… such an evil word. I’m almost flattered.”

Astarion looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to indulge him in his jokes the same way you often did since you had become… friends? Close acquaintances? Occasional lovers? The label on your relationship —if you could even call it that— seemed to change with every new dawn.

Whatever you two could be considered, you stared unimpressed at him with your hands glued to your hips.

“I was just having a midnight snack,” he explained with a shrug, his head tilting backwards against the tree but without ever leaving your eyes. “You can stop torturing that pretty brain of yours now.”

“I thought we had an agreement.” You took a step forward as you frowned in confusion. “I feed you so you can stay strong and defend us.”

Defend me.

“That was the deal,” you continued, ignoring those few words stuck in your throat.

“Indeed it was.”

Astarion was still looking at you, staring into your eyes as he always did —with a grin plastered to his face— but there was something different in them this time. A dark glimmer you had only seen when he was on the battlefield. The look he reserved only to his enemies.

Your entire body crumbled in confusion, your face losing its frown, your arms falling on your sides in defeat. “Then why didn’t you ask?”

You hated how your voice almost cracked at the end of that sentence. How small you felt, how desperate as you begged for an explanation, and all of this, because of that softness near the fire.

After that night and the sudden indifference that followed, you had wondered many times if you had misunderstood that look in his eyes. If that tenderness you felt in his touch had never been there in the first place but created by your delusional mind, always craving for something more. Something real.

Or worse, if he had faked it so well that you had fallen for it.

Astarion’s gaze softened ever so slightly as he moved from the tree and stepped in front of you. You cursed mentally when your breath caught in your throat.

“You were sleeping too peacefully for me to disturb you,” he murmured, taking your chin in his fingers. His nails grazed your skin but you bit down a yelp of discomfort.

“But I’m glad to see that you’re as eager to help as always.” With a flick of his wrist, Astarion hit the bottom of your chin. “That’s what I like about you.”

It didn’t hurt, you had endured much worse treatments in your lifetime, but you knew it was not meant to. Not physically at least. You felt the strike tear into your belittled pride, his condescending tone ripping through it like teeth in the flesh.

“You didn’t want to disturb my sleep,” you repeated, your voice almost trembling in anger.

He took a step back, his arms open as he shrugged with a smirk until his back met the bark of the tree once again. “That is what I said, darling.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Like that’s stopped you before.”

As you waited for a sassy retort that didn’t come, Astarion remained silent as he crossed his arms. His eyes wandered away from yours to the deeper and darkest parts of the forest where the light of the moon couldn’t get past the thick canopy. You couldn’t tell if his elven ears had sensed something you were physically incapable to, or if he was just ignoring you like he did the past few days.

Before you could stop it, your tadpole squirmed behind your eye, reaching for Astarion. Searching for answers he wasn’t willing to give you with his own mouth. You managed to get only a glimpse of that darkness behind his eyes —an anger that he was barely able to contain— before your conscience smacked against a wall.

At the same time, Astarion’s head snapped towards you. “Did you really try to slither into my mind?”

An irritated surprise dripped from his voice, but you caught the flash of betrayal that crossed his face.

“I’m sorry.”

You pressed your palms to your eyeballs, trying to get rid of the prickly sensation of blooming tears. You took that moment in the black void to put your thoughts back into place; to calm your racing heart and give some sense to the storm raging in your head. “I just want to understand what’s going on, if I did something-”

“Why do you even care if I feed on you or not?”

Another wave of confusion washed over you as your hands fell to your sides. “What?”

“It sure must be draining for you,” —with a smooth movement, he pushed himself away from the tree— “letting me drink your blood every other day. Yet you always come through.” He smiled, his teeth poking through his grin almost menacingly. “So zealous and happy to please.”

He started circling you, like a murder of crows over a carcass. A sense of unease started creeping up on you, sending shivers down your spine as you followed closely his movements. You didn’t think he wanted to kill you, but if he put his mind to it, he probably could.

“But the question remains…” He took a step towards you, close enough for you to smell the blood stuck on his clothes. You moved backwards, immediately hitting a tree in your way. Astarion stood in front of you, his eyes almost piercing your soul. “Why do you do it?”

“You said it yourself,” you said calmly even though the blood in your veins had never pumped so quickly, “you’re stronger when you drink-”

He chuckled, clapping once his hands together. “I fear my point is not really coming across, so I’ll rephrase my question. What do you gain from that?”

“I… I don’t think I-”

Your words were cut when Astarion’s hand wrapped around your neck. He leaned closer, his breath tickling your skin and waking up a desire that was entirely uncalled for while you stared into the eyes of a predator.

“Sex, darling.” His whisper ran down your spine, shaking you to your core. “That’s what you gain from it.”

Memories flowed in your brain and you couldn’t tell if it was you who brought them up or Astarion. The digging of teeth in your throat and the metallic scent of your own blood stuffing the air around hit you harder than a sledgehammer. You were back on the ground, pinned down between him and the dirt. His hands held you down as he drank, roaming over your clothes, unclasping buckles and grasping handful of flesh.

There was the aching between your legs and the release that followed when his undivided attention moved from your neck to the rest of your body. And above all else, the pleasure of being wanted.

“That was not in the deal.” You shook your head as much as you could while your neck was still in his grip. “It’s something between us and you also gain from it.”

“I gain nothing from it.”

His grip tightened around around your throat as he hissed in your face, his nails digging a little too deep into your skin. Your tadpole squirmed, anticipating a wave of disgust and shame that shook every nerve and cell in your brain. You squeezed your eyes, almost overwhelmed by the revulsion pouring into you.

“You started it.”

You still remembered the first time it happened, a week or two into your agreement. Slightly light-headed from the blood loss, when Astarion moved away from your neck it took you a second to realize that he hadn’t left. He was still there, looking down on you with blood still dripping from his mouth.

“I could ease your pain, if you want. Just this one time.” His hand accompanied his words, slowly gliding down your chest and along your thighs. “But you have to ask first.”

Then it happened again. And again. And again. And then there was not one time when he fed on you that he didn’t eat twice.

You swallowed the memory, your throat barely moving in his grip. “If you didn’t want it then why-”

“Manipulation, sweetheart!” Astarion widened his arms, posing dramatically and thankfully freeing your neck. “I saw an opportunity to bring you to my side and I took it. It was instinctive, really,” he continued with a shrug as you massaged your sore neck, “almost too easy creating a connection between pain and pleasure so you’d feed me willingly.”

A crease appeared between his eyebrows while his face crumpled in a pained expression. “It didn’t matter what it took to achieve it as long as it served me and my safety.”

Despite the fear still screaming inside, despite every survival instinct left in you, you stretched out your hand to him. Your fingertips brushed his bare forearm for a mere moment before he pulled away, his face distorted by an angry smile.

“But you have outplayed me.” He clapped slowly, loud enough for an animal nearby to scatter away in fear. “Bravo to you.”

You shook your head, even more lost than before. “What are you talking about?”

“Do you truly think me so foolish?”

His scream left his mouth like a curse, raw and jagged at the edges as his hand clenched his shirt right above his heart. The smug facade had crumbled, leaving behind a boiling anger that contorted his face. You heard more scattering in the forest: a rustling of leaves, flutters of wings, terrified chirps and squeaks as all the creatures in the surrounding area ran away.

Not you though. Immobile as the tree you were pressed against, you stood where you were, looking Astarion straight into his eyes as he pointed his finger to your face.

“You hide behind words of selflessness but you’re playing with me just as all the others before you. Always wanting,” he hissed, despair slowly filling his eyes as he lowered his hand and raised his chin, “always pushing for more.”

You clenched your jaw as the lump in your throat grew with every new arrow that Astarion aimed at your heart. “You’re painting me as someone I’m not.”

He scoffed again, as if your words were the mere whining of a spoiled kid. Taking another step closer to you, you could almost feel his anger blurring the air around him, its heat tingling on your skin.

“Then what was that? That desire next to the fire?” He tilted his head as his index moved up along your neck. “For a moment there, when I looked at the portrait you made, I thought you actually cared,” —his lips trembled with ache— “that I wasn’t just the pleasure I pushed you to want… but then I touched you and I saw it.” Astarion grabbed your chin tightly, making you impossible to look away. “That craving in your eyes.”

He leaned even closer, until your faces were barely apart.

“What did you want so badly?”

Finally all the pieces of the puzzle that you’d been gathering in the last few days finally snapped together. The blur in your head cleared and everything —or at least, most of it— started making sense once again. Sighing shakily your relief, your fingers slowly reached for the steel hand clawing to your chin

“I just wanted that,” you whispered as your fingertips brushed the pale skin of his hand. “That soft, kind touch.”

His muscles tensed under your touch, but this time Astarion didn’t jolt away. Inhaling sharply, he let you encase his fingers in yours, gradually loosening his grip around your face.

“The interest that you showed in me, the pleasure you gave me,” you shook your head, your gaze lowered on your joined hands. “It was flattering and I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but I always knew it wasn’t entirely genuine. However, that closeness,” —your thumb moved almost instinctively as it caressed the back of his hand— “that softness you showed me…”

Your gaze snapped back up to him as you tried to breathe in as much air as you could. “I just wanted more of that intimacy.”

Astarion remained silent for a while, looking into your eyes as if —by not breaking eye contact with you— he would be able to catch a crack in your act.

When your tadpole squirmed, sensing Astarion’s doubt as he searched for more reassurance than just your words, you didn’t oppose any resistance. You pushed down the tiny ache of knowing that he still didn’t trust you completely and let your truest emotions come to the surface.

The moment the realization hit him, the anger on his face disappeared into thin air like smoke after a fire; all that was left behind was a broken relief. Astarion took a few steps back, letting go of your hand as he turned his back to you. He threw his head back and took a deep breath in, his hands planted on his slender waist.

As you followed him from a distance, you noticed a movement coming from one of the tents. Wyll was looking at you, his eyebrows creasing in worry as they keep darting from your face to Astarion, who was now pacing back and forth on the grass.

You wondered how long he had been standing there. How much he had seen. The mere thought made you feel extremely exposed, as though your clothes had suddenly became invisible to the naked eye. You silently reassured Wyll, your tadpole squirming even more behind your eyes while connecting to the warlock’s. You waved quickly at him, responding to his small smile, before he disappeared back into his tent.

You exhaled slowly, moving your gaze back to Astarion. He was still giving you his back, however he stood still under the moonlight, his hair almost reflecting the silvery rays. He looked like the moon itself: so beautiful, and yet so unreadable.

A sudden thought crossed your mind, the question that had been bugging you since the start of that entire ordeal, and to which you hadn’t got an answer yet. You took a deep as you got ready to utter those words, terrified of what the answer was going to be. Scared that the response would break your heart.

“Was it real, that kindness?”

Your voice trembled, barely able to contain the worry that threatened to spill from your eyes. “Or was it just another ruse of yours?”

Astarion turned around. His face was scarred by hurting despite the smile that was pulling his face.

“Of course it was real.” He held out his hands, almost trying to grasp the words he needed, before his arms fell back to his sides. “Otherwise, it would’ve made keeping you away much less painful to bear.”

You had never seen him look so helpless, so defenseless as he stared at you. Your heart broke at seeing him like, but there was still joy gushing through the cracks as you moved towards him. Taking those last few steps that kept you apart, you stopped only when your bodies were just a breath away.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?”

Moving carefully, you pushed your fingers forth until they gently brushed his hand. Once more, he tensed under your touch but didn’t move away.

“I’m not like you, darling.” His smug smile made a brief appearance before it split into an aching wince. “I don’t open up easily.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, which gained you a raised eyebrow from him. “It took me over a month to bring myself to sketch in front of anyone else. Honestly, I might be more mysterious than you are.”

Astarion scoffed playfully. “Darling, I am a riddle in vampire form: forever unknowable.” As you softly chuckled, his fingers moved and hooked onto yours. “However, I must admit that your secrecy is… very intriguing.”

“There’s nothing that interesting about my life,” you admitted softly, lowering your gaze. “It’s been a pretty boring existence before meeting you and the others.”

A second later, two fingers moved your chin up until your eyes were back into Astarion’s. Your breath stopped for a second when they moved along your jaw before gently cupping your cheek.

“There is —and never will be— nothing boring about you, sweetheart.” His thumb caressed your cheek as you stood still, too scared that he would take it back to move even the smallest muscle. “And even if there was, I’d be happy to hear all the tedious details. And perhaps contribute with some exciting tales if things do get too boring.”

You shook your head with a chuckle, gently tugging his hand. “I expected nothing less from you.”

He grinned, his hand moving down your neck and then brushing along your arm. “Am I already becoming so predictable?”

Before you could answer, Astarion wrapped his fingers around your wrist and brought your hand to his face. He placed your palm on his cheek and leaned into it. You immediately felt the tension in his clenched jaw, the sharp breath he took in and the way his fingers tightened around your hand.

“You don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” you whispered softly.

“Trust me, I do.” He closed his eyes as he leaned more into your touch. “I want to feel your fingers trace my features and remind me of their existence. I’m just…” —he inhaled and exhaled shakily, before a small grin appeared on his face, “adjusting to it, you know?”

You nodded with a smile. You understood completely as your palm adapted to the edges of Astarion’s face, to his heat —slightly lower than yours— and to the way your cheeks were also flushing as you watched Astarion slowly relax into your touch.

Freeing your other hand from his grip, you cupped his face and gently pulled him with you as you sat on the grass beneath. The ground was moist, the due dotting the stems slightly dampening your pants, but that was the last thing that could bother you in that moment.

When Astarion sat in front of you, you leaned forward, kneeling as you pointed at his crossed legs with a nod. “Can I sit there?”

A mischievous glint shone in his eyes, something you should’ve expected, but you shook your head, your serious frown never leaving your face. “And feel free to tell me to go fuck myself if you don’t want to, because I will.”

His hands had moved to your hips before you were finished, pulling you in his lap as his smirk grew even wider. “Oh, I’m sure you gladly would, wouldn’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head and biting your lower lip as your cheeks started burning up. “Shut up.”

Then your thumbs moved, circling on his cheekbones. Astarion closed his eyes for a moment, his eyelids shuddering at every brush of your fingertips. His fingers dug slightly into your hips when the warmth of your hands left his cheeks to the chill air of the night; when your fingers started wandering on the rest of his face. You traced his eyebrows and then moved your fingertips along his nose and back up, always under Astarion’s scarlet gaze. When you passed them on his forehead, the tension in his face disappeared under your touch. It was almost like a spell, some secret magic that your hands had always possessed but kept hidden from everyone, even from you.

While your fingers moved almost on their own along those features you knew like the back of your hand, you studied those smaller details that you couldn’t make out from a distance. The wrinkles and circles around his eyes, the small imperfections in his otherwise flawless skin.

“See anything you like?”

You smiled, mirroring his grin, as your indexes followed his smile lines until they brushed the corner of his lips. “What’s there not to like.”

“Good answer.” His smirk grew wider as his hand cupped your face. “Please, don’t hold any compliment back.”

Your thumb brushed over his lips, pulling down ever so slightly his bottom lip. “The same goes for you, fangs.”

Astarion cocked his eyebrow. “Fangs, really?”

“It’s cute, don’t you think?” You passed a hand through his hair, noticing the way his lips slightly fell open when you did. “Just like you.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “I would never use that word to describe me, darling. Not in a thousand years.”

His hands left your hips and moved to your face, caressing your cheeks before gliding to the back of your head. Your breath hung in your throat as he stroked your hair; as he pulled your face closer to his until your foreheads touched.

“But I have to admit, it sounds quite nice when you pronounce it.” His whisper hit your skin, warm and intoxicating, setting your face —your entire body— aflame. His fingers traced your mouth, a feather touch that you were not expecting.

“Perhaps,” he breathed again, even closer than before, “your lips could transform any monster in a docile and submissive creature.”

“Is that a request?”

“More a suggestion. For another time, perhaps. ” His fingers moved along your jaws, dreadfully slow. “But I wouldn’t mind a taste.”

His other hand, still wrapped on the back of your hand, pulled you in but your lips didn’t meet. Your fingers, that you had moved on his mouth, were keeping him away. When he moved back, eyes narrowed in confusion, Astarion was met with a mischievous grin.

“You should ask more nicely, fangs.”

His confusion was soon replaced by a pleased glimmer in his eyes. He snorted before cupping your cheek with his hand, his half-lidded gaze on you.

“May I taste your lips, darling?”

The low growl in his voice sent shivers down your spine, stirring your insides like a boiling stew, but you weren’t done. Not yet. You leaned in, stopping inches away from his face as your thumbs kept stroking his cheeks.

“I said nicely, fangs.”

Under your eyes, Astarion swallowed, his tongue darting in between his teeth and licking quickly his lips before he grinned.

“Please?”

“Very good.”

Your whisper brushed against his mouth a second before yours pressed softly on it, in a kiss so different from the rawness you were used to with him. So sweet and calm, even when he kissed you back, slowly opening and closing his lips on yours. He was in no rush as his hands stroked your hair, as they tentatively moved on your shoulders and along your bare arms —sending shivers alone your spine as he did so— until they covered yours. His fingers were almost trembling as they intertwined with yours.

You gently pulled back, gasping for air as you looked him in the eyes. They were still studying you, scarlet pools reading into the darkest depths of your soul and seeing things that they couldn’t understand yet. You weren’t used to that emotional closeness, to someone else being able to see you and wanting to know more.

It was terrifying, no denying that; but also kind of exhilarating.

Astarion smiled, almost as if he had just read your mind —and maybe, he really had. Nudging his nose against your cheek, he squeezed your hands in his.

“I believe you will truly ruin me, my dear.”

“For good or for worse?”

He kissed your lips again, a quick kiss but somehow deeper than before that left your head spinning even when he pulled back and shrugged. “That’s still to be determined.”

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #dnd #astarion ancunin #astarion fic

[diejager]

Cw DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, dark cbf!Johnny, smut, manipulation, kissing, groping, teasing, tell me if I missed any. Since tumblr removed this post a few minutes ago, I’m reporting it! I’m not sure if it was removed because someone reported it or the AI found it or smt, but I always have a back up :)

Your mother had always cooed at how close you were with Johnny, an unbroken and loyal friendship that she hoped would keep even when you grew older, changing schools and moving to find work. She thought it an innocent thing, adorable and cherishable in every sense knowing that Johnny was a strong and aspiring man, he would be able to protect you and help you in your time of need. And he did, Johnny was glued to you by the hip, following you everywhere you went and stared at you with devoted and desperate eyes. You could trust Johnny with everything, even your deepest and darkest secrets.

When you confessed to Johnny that you watched your friends kiss, the naked love in their eyes shining through, and felt a slight twinge of curiosity and envy in your heart, he showed you how it felt to kiss with love. Johnny hid you in his room, fingers curled around your hair and pulling you forwards, his lips warm and soft against yours. He kissed you with intent, a hot and churning love that had you whimpering and clinging onto him, melting in his arms while he moved your lips to his beat. It took your breath away, instilling a burning fire in your heart, the young embers of a bonfire that would light up your heart with a booming throb. Despite you gasps and shortness of breath, you sought Johnny for a second and a third kiss, leaning towards him with pouted lips. 

You were only 13 when you gave your first kiss to the perfectly plumps lips of your best friend.

When you caught boys groping their girlfriends in public areas, unabashed about their affection being perceived as lewd or inappropriate for the public, and gossiped with Johnny about how weird it was to grope someone - even a lover - in public was and that it should be kept indoors, especially when one would moan or yelp, Johnny explained it to you with his body. You were left in your house’s living room, parents off to work and leaving you two alone at home, he groped you, his rougher fingers kneading your pubescent body. Johnny squeezed the curve of your hips, trailing down your plush thighs and up your ass until you gasped in shock before it turned into mewls, little, breathy sounds that encouraged Johnny to do more. He slid his hand beneath your shirt and pinched your perked nipples, rolling your little nubs between his thumb and index while you arched, writhing so much that Johnny had to straddle you to keep you from moving too much. 

You were only shy of 15 when you felt the first dribble of slick down your ass from your childhood best friend’s hands.

When you shared to Johnny all the stories of your friends losing their virginity - the V-card, they called it, as if it were something worth losing or giving without much though - and all the brutish and callous ways they spoke of it, you edged on shock and apprehension about such a thing, Johnny promised he would show you how important it was to give it to someone worth your time and heart —him.

“Ye trust me, dinnae ye,” he whispered your name so reverently, his breath tickling your nape as he pressed himself into you. 

You do, your trust Johnny with your whole life, but you were still unsure about it. You were nervous with how optimistic Johnny was about taking your virginity as much as he was to give you his, and yet, despite your fears, you still gave yourself to him because he was your trusted, childhood best friend. Johnny fucked you amaturish but devoted snaps of his hips, rocking into you until you cried out his name whenever he bumped into something gummy and sensitive inside of you. You bled, but the pain never persisted, it was quickly swallowed by pleasure, waves of drowning ecstasy that numbed your mind and wracked your body with tremors. You saw the appeal in losing your virginity, to succumb to the pleasure of sex and give yourself to someone you truly loved and trusted. 

You were only 17 when you felt the uncut and hard cock of your childhood best friend. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @rainbowsabre @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap x reader smut #Dark childhood best friend!Johnny #cbf!soap #tw: dark content #dark content #dead dove do not eat #tw: dub con #tw: non con #tw: manipulation

[thesunisatangerine]

playing for keeps – preview

alexia putellas x childhoodfriend!barçaplayer!reader

warning: light angst

status: work in progress

(a/n in the tags) [parts: preview]

The car ride was deafening in its silence.

In Alexia’s defense, she’d done everything she could to fill it: she’d tried asking you about your flight and when that didn’t work, she started talking football. She asked you about your last season, about how you won your league and wondered about how that must’ve felt; inquired about your negotiations with the club and how you felt about returning back to Barça–solicited for the reason that made you inclined to come back. Heck, she even tried to get you talking by mentioning things you used to do or like–things she didn’t know you didn’t do nor like now. 

For every question, you’d given her the same kind of nothing. A yes, a no, or a hum. There was a weight in your chest that exhausted you past the point of exchanging pleasantries and niceness, a seemingly impossible task for the tiredness in your bones, your soul. So you excused yourself, told her it was the jet lag, and you saw the way the light in her eyes dimmed with disappointment, training them on the road with deliberate focus, her lips tightening to a line of silence.

You still knew the language of her face and body–how could you not when they’d carve themselves into the tissues of your mind?–to perceive that she wasn’t entirely convinced with what you just said because maybe, just maybe, you were to her as she was to you: familiar. The thought provided little comfort, made your chest heavier with guilt even, another stone dropped into the pitcher. 

The feeling gave way to another thought, unpleasant in the way it told you what you already knew, ‘Way to treat the person who took time out of their precious night to drive you to your apartment when she could be using that time to rest for tomorrow’s practice. How nice.’

And then, another.

‘Just like how you treated Olivia, right?’

The reminder made you close your eyes from the sting that followed, a stitch torn from its place in a wound newly closed, and you tried to prevent the tears’ impending arrival but the darkness that followed served to rub salt to the cut as it made the fleeting images clearer, the words ever louder.

“I’m so stupid! So stupid…” 

“Go. Please, just go. You won’t find happiness here.”

A touch on your arm startled you back to the present, the jostle from the gasp you let out just enough to make a tear fall, and you found Alexia with her eyes on you, concern and a question reflected in their light.

The car had stopped, parked outside of your apartment complex. 

“What’s wrong?” Soft was the way she spoke the words but the look she laid upon you was even more gentle. Your heart lurched–away or towards her, you weren’t sure–and you ached, and for what exactly, you didn’t know but the question made you reminisce about the old times, back to when you used to tell each other everything.

But how could you tell her about this? About what led to this? When the fire from that night remained in your chest, glowing and waiting patiently as an ember in the night, waiting for the wind to call her name–to set her aflame again?

You casted your eyes aside and turned your head away so you could wipe the tear that fell, before you met her eyes again. You said with a small smile, apologetic. 

“Nothing. I’m just–I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

Alexia regarded you for another moment, eyes tracing some invisible path along your face, long enough that you considered she’d ask you more about why you cried just then. Instead, she said with a half-smile, teasing, “Don’t worry about it. What else is new?” 

Your shoulders eased down a bit.

“Still a smart-mouth, I see. Indeed, what else is new?”

At your response, the both of you chuckled but the pressing silence returned. 

“How long has it been since we’ve played together?” 

Alexia whispered with a wistful tone, brows knitting together at her question as she leaned back against her seat, putting her arms behind her head which pulled the sleeves of her shirt to reveal the tattoo under her arm.

You turned your gaze away, to the unlit window of your apartment.

“Too long.”

“Two years too long.” Alexia corrected you and then she shook her head, “I know you already explained it but I still don’t understand why you went to the States out of all places. Out of all your options, you had to choose the furthest one.”

You shrugged, hunching forward so you could rest your elbows on your knees, fingers clasping together as you twiddled your thumbs.

“You knew I’ve always wanted to see what the league is like there.”

“Right,” Alexia drawled in a tone that told you she was, in fact, aware that she didn’t know–that what you said was a load of bullshit. “So, what’s the verdict?”

‘It wasn’t like home.’

“I can hear your judgment all over your tone.” You replied drily then added, “It was great, thank you very much.”

Alexia laughed and strands of her hair fell to her face which she brushed back with a finger before she sank further into her seat.

“Well, you should tell me more about how you enjoyed yourself, then. Surely, you must have a lot of stories to tell.” You heard the unspoken words, ‘Stories you never bothered to tell me through the phone or during the instances we’d met during the time you were away.’

Still you answered her in your mind, ‘I would’ve enjoyed it better if you were there.’

“Where do you want me to begin?” If Alexia heard the weary sigh in your tone, she made no indication she did. 

“I don’t know. Where do you want to start?”

‘I went away because of you.’

“At this point, we’ll be here all night.” You laughed.

Alexia laughed along. “Just tell me anything then.”

‘Distance didn’t work. You still have my heart.’

You hummed, thinking of a story, easing back in your seat finally and then you began. 

“Well…”

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #ap11 #not proofread #mine #my writing #a/n: #the poll winner is what im currently working on rn #still far from having a solid outline but just figured id give you guys something to hold on to for the time being #also this scene may be subject to minor/major changes in the final copy ✌️ #let me know what you guys think <3

[orphicrose]

The co-host (Alastor x Femreader) III < >

Summary: You are Alastors Co host in life, perhaps more. But are separated by a sudden death. When you are finally reunited in the under world, it is up to Alastor to figure out why you don’t remember him.

☙I’m very thankful for everyone who has left nice comments on the other parts so thank you&lt;3

I’ve started a taglist so do let me know if anyone is interested

@cannibalcoyote

—————————————𖤐

The king of wraith was up y/n’s ass with the lack of souls coming in this month. Usually they were at least in the thousands. But they had dropped to hundreds. She was the only one who could claim them, so it was difficult for one person to visit all those people in one day. It was exhausting. 

On top of that, a new evil was lurking around every corner. Watching her at every moment and kept her on her toes. Now she had gone face to face with this thing, she was almost certain he was more powerful than her. But how. She had the gift from Satan. Who was more powerful than him? A lot, actually. But none of them as remotely accessible. Lucifer? No way. Lilith? No one knew where she was. Perhaps he made a deal with one of the sins? It was a mystery. But all she knew is she had a reason to be scared. 

“I don’t know Zestial, I really don’t. He was like nothing I’ve ever seen before. His body grew, like, bigger. And he seemed like a deer?” Y/n questioned herself, trying to recall everything she had seen that night. 

“A wendigo?” He asked, trying to see her image. 

“Yes! Yes a wendigo.”

Zestial had grown worried when she didn’t show up, and decided it would be best if he visited her the following day. Her home was the definition of humble and cozy. A simple house outside the city. Where the streets didn’t bother her sleep and she could feel a sense of security. 

“Do you have any reason to believe he may come after you again?” He questioned 

“Well, he didn’t chase me. Though It was dark, there’s the chance he couldn’t see me and decided against it”

”Please, keep safe tonight dear friend. And do contact me in the morning.”

Few more words were said before his departure. And with that, she was alone again. In a more safe destination but, nonetheless, alone. How was a being as gifted as her feeling fear, was it because she didn't really like it coming down to a fight? Did she truly value her life? Who knew. The only thing she could do was focus on her work, and distract herself. Overthinking was not a good game plan. Her bricked fireplace was letting off embers into her living room, her walls portrayed images of their shadows dancing along to the flames of the small fire. Warm feet resting on a velvet ottoman as she gracefully flicked through this weeks paperwork. The numbers really have dropped, what was she going to tell the boss? He wasn't exactly the forgiving type. The amber light gave her face a beautiful glow as her eyes showed the focus she had been needing for weeks. 

Three distinct knocks erupted her from her mind. Each equal lengths of time apart from one another. Maybe it was the wind, or her imagination. Afterall, she had been through a lot of stress recently. Eyes flickered down the hall to where the front door sat, her chair angled perfectly so she could see it. Though, there were no windows to warn her what was on the other side. There it was again, the exact three knocks. It can't be mistaken for anything other than a living being anymore. Her feet landed in her slippers, warmed by the fire, and her hands brought up in front of her ready for anything. The door got closer and closer, her fear tying a knot in her stomach. Suck it up y/n, she thought, Satan wouldn't let anything happen to you. 

Without letting her logic control her anymore, the door swung open. "Hel-", he began before she swiftly shut the door again. It was him, has at her house, at her front door, while she's in her pajamas. What a way to go.  Again, she opened the door "-lo" he continued as if nothing happened. "Did your mother not teach you how to properly welcome a guest?" he fended offense, before setting his microphone in front of his feet and leaning on it.  Teeth bearing a blood thirsty grin, similar to their first encounter, but definitely not holding as much of a desire for murder in his eyes. 

"She taught me not to talk to strangers", she in fact did not do this, but she did teach her how to make origami swans!

"Oh, but she must have! Such a smart woman your mother was!" He treaded lightly, or so he thought to himself. He was certain that the both of you were thinking the same thing, but that was not the case.

"And what is it that makes you think you know my mother?" Her tone more brave this time. Was this some manipulation tactic to gain her trust? What exactly was he playing at. He seemed like the type to play with his prey, but not in this way.

"Because i did know her, dear. Have you not caught on yet?" That look in her eyes was too painfully familiar to not have been her. It was her, but it didn't seem like she knew that yet. He was becoming frustrated, maybe he should have shown her he wasn't a threat. Not to her anyway. Or maybe he could have showed up in a more public space, in the light of day. "No, you haven't caught on yet." A sadder tone flashed through him, without his smile failing to give him away.

"I don't appreciate you taunting me before you attempt to hurt me." Y/n bit back, trying to shut the door again. Something stopping the door from closing. She looked down to find his cane wedged between, forcing an opening for him to peek his head through. 

"You don't seem to understand. I've already had my meal today y/n, I'm just here to have a civilized conversation with you" His use of her name struck even more fear into her

"And... how do i know you wont turn on me"

"Maybe because we both know you're more powerful than you think. Or maybe because i know your full name, miss y/n m/n l/n"

She was more than a little creeped out at his point. There wasn't a single memory of her doing it, but at some point she must have invited him inside. Because he was sitting in the lounge chair opposite her now, appreciating the fire as if he wasn't some crazed serial killer. She didn't dare look away, mapping every little change in his expression. What was she even doing. He tried to make her his dinner about 24 hours ago. And now he's sitting in the place where she eats hers. Something in her just told her that this was where she was supposed to be in this moment. Whether fate was setting her up for her inevitable second death, or something bigger.

"You have a very cozy home, y/n" His voice became softer, never lacking in the static undertone he carried with him. 

"That's Miss L/n to you" Not a second was hesitated before she bit back.

"Of course, miss L/n" Alastor hummed, initiating a brief silence they used to be accustomed to. "I am going to assume you don't remember me" Sarcasm complimented his voice nicely.

"Remember you? From yesterday when you attempted to send me to my second fate? Uhm, yes." Eyes still locked onto his face.

"And i am deeply sorry for that... misunderstanding" He replied, receiving a scoff from Y/N. "But i was talking about years prior to yesterday"

She didn't respond with words, just a confused look in his direction. "years?". She truly didn't understand what he was getting at. If he wanted to kill her, she didn't doubt it would have happened by now. So what else could he possibly want. By this point, he knew she wasn't just messing with him. Something was truly wrong. It was wrong enough that she was down here in the first place, but to own a business dedicated to retrieving souls and being an overlord? Not his Y/n, never. He was looking for purpose, and he found it. 

"I see. Well..." his crimson eyes displaced signs of genuine disappointment. "I see you need time to recover from our little encounter yesterday. But you will be seeing me again" and with that, his body faded into the shadows of the carpet. Similar to how he appeared the first time they met. There she was, left with more questions than one person needed. She definitely wasn't sleeping tonight. 

#hazbin x y/n #hazbin x reader #Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor fluff #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin charlie #hazbin angel dust

[whoistartaglia]

“are you single?”

cyno x gn!reader

you tilt your head at the question. are you single?

“i don’t know,” you decide.

“you don’t know?” the guy asks.

you give a sidelong glance to the man on your left. cyno stands a little bit aways, leaning against the bar with your group of friends. they’re talking about something, and those his eyes don’t stray, you know all he’s listening to is you.

“well, i’m not sure,” you say, letting a hint of flirtatiousness creep into your voice. you give this man, this stranger at the bar, an arch smile. “why are you asking?”

“i was watching you from across the man,” he confesses. “can i buy you a drink?”

“i don’t think the guy i came with here would like that very much.”

it’s then that you feel a hand on your waist, a chest behind your back. you turn around and look up at a displeased cyno. whether he’s annoyed at you, at the random stranger in front of you, you don’t know. maybe both.

“they’re right. i don’t.” his voice is needles and thorns. the man opens his mouth to respond, but cyno cuts him off with a sharp, “leave us.”

the looks down at you, and you shrug. “sorry.”

he leaves, muttering obscenities under his breath. cyno watches him until he’s out the door, and then turns his piercing stare on you. it softens a fraction.

“what are you doing?”

“what am i doing?” you ask, swiveling in your chair to face him. he leans back and crosses his arms. “what are you doing?”

“well, i was having a lovely conversation before you interrupted it.”

“i did not,” you defend yourself. “in fact, i was having a lovely conversation as well.”

“oh, i’m sure,” cyno drawls. he sighs and covers his face with a hand. “we really need to stop doing this.”

“doing what?”

he removes the hand to look at you. “you know what.”

“no,” you shake your head. “i don’t.” you look over at your friends engrossed in their own conversations, at the bartender wiping the counter, the bard strumming softly in the corner. no one is paying attention to you and cyno. it’s just you and him right now. you continue in a softer voice, “i don’t know why we keeping running in circles, you after me until it’s me after you.”

“it doesn’t have to be that way.”

“but it is,” you respond. “you only looked at me tonight when that guy started showing interest.” you clasp your hands together, and fidget with your rings and bracelets while you wait for cyno’s response.

“that’s the one i gave you.”

you look up. “what?”

cyno takes you hand, and turns it over. the bracelet he got you on your most recent birthday catches in the firelight.

“oh, yes,” you say. “it’s the nicest piece of jewelry i own.”

cyno stares at it, twists it over as he thinks.

“if someone asked you who got it for, what would you say?”

“i don’t know.” you repeat the words that started this chain of events, now in a whispered hush than a coy tone. “i’m not sure.” you let dangerous words fall from your tongue. “what do you want me to say?”

a pause, a pause, a pause. the entire tavern is filled with laughter and chitchat, neither one louder than the silence betwen you and cyno.

“i’d prefer boyfriend,” he says at last.

“well. so you would i,” you admit. “but i can’t call you that unless you start acting like to actually want to be my boyfriend, and stop just telling me.”

you look down at your wrist, at cyno’s hand on it, so close yet so far, anything but his sharp stare. you can picture him walking away, going back to your friends, or even out the door and away from this tavern and town forever. the desert is large, and if cyno wanted to leave, he had only a few steps to take.

“okay.” you look up. a second later, stronger, “okay.” he draws up your other hand and sandwiches both of them between his own. “every day, i’ll show you.”

you nod faintly, praying to whatever archon will listen that he promise hold true. you think the conversation is over then. cyno’s friends wait for him, the bard is asleep, the fireplace is embers, and soon you will be rushed out for the night. but cyno turns and gestures to the bartender instead. two drinks, he orders.

one for him. one for you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #cyno x reader #cyno scenarios #cyno headcanons #genshin impact cyno #cyno fluff #cyno angst #genshin #genshin impact cyno headcanons #cyno x you #cyno #cyno imagines #genshin cyno

[ackermanbloodline]

The Breaking Point (Part III) - Levi Ackerman x Female Reader

Read Part I Read Part II

Word count: 6k

Warnings: Sexual content (18+/MDNI). Angst. Season four spoilers.

Author's Note: I decided to combine this final part of The Breaking Point with an anonymous request I received since this was my plan anyway. Thank you, Anon, for sending it in.

* * *

“Levi?” 

He runs a hand through his slicked-back hair, drips of rain dropping from the ends of it. He’s shivering. His eyes are so bloodshot it looks like he needs medical attention. 

“I d-didn’t know where else to g-go… c-can I come in?” 

You grab his arm and pull him inside rather than say anything. You close the door again and turn around to face him. 

“Listen, I’m s-sorry for coming in here a-and dripping all–all over your floor, but I-I-I wanted to talk–” 

“I hate to interrupt, but before you go any further, you need to take a shower and get these wet clothes off. Like now.” 

He doesn’t fight you. He looks at the floor and gives you a small nod. You lead him to the bathroom and turn on the shower to the warmest setting, your remembrance that he likes scalding hot showers coming in handy now. You also leave a towel for him on the sink, as well as the candle so he’s able to see. 

He walks into the bathroom, stands by the shower, and looks at you. 

“Give me your clothes,” you say. “I’ll wring them out and hang them up to dry.” 

His eyes widen a little. He takes off his jacket and hands it to you. The thing is so heavy with water and dripping all over the place. You drape it over your forearm but away from your body so it doesn’t drip onto you or your robe. His muscles glisten in the light of the flame as he works to take his shirt off. You see a few new scars on his lower torso. 

One by one, until it comes down to him taking off his pants. He looks at you. You don’t catch on immediately but you quickly turn on your heel, away from him, to give him privacy. 

“Right. Sorry.” 

Once he takes everything else off and hands it to you, you exit the bathroom and call out to him. 

“Let me know if you need anything.” 

“Thank you.” 

You close the door. You are suddenly grateful for his habit of long showering times. It’ll give you time to think. You sigh deeply and throw your head back, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, and curse the universe at this cruel trick it’s playing on you. It was worse enough breaking Levi’s heart, now he’s showing up unannounced at your door in the middle of the night? God. 

You pad to the kitchen and place the clothes in the sink. One by one, you wring them all out the best you can. But no matter how much you work to do so, water keeps coming out. By the time you’re done, your hands are sore and red. You look over to the fireplace to find just dull embers glowing. Shouldn’t be too difficult to start a fire again. 

Once you get that done, you take the clothes and place them near the fire. After that, it’s mopping the floors of the rain Levi trekked in. Then, it’s making some tea. You know he’s going to want it. But you decide to not give him his favorite black tea. But rather opting for peppermint tea as it doesn’t have any caffeine. And it looks like he’s been awake for a week straight. 

You sit patiently on the couch waiting for Levi to emerge from his shower. And after about 45 minutes, you hear the water shut off. Anxiety brews in your chest uneasily, though you can’t quite figure out why. He’s the one who barged in here. 

Eventually, you hear footsteps approach you. You look at him, only clad in a towel wrapped tightly around his waist. You look away quickly. 

“Apologies for the indecency,” he murmurs. 

“All good, your clothes aren’t dry yet.” 

“Yeah, I figured.” 

He sits down on the opposite end of the couch from you. The silence is so awkward that you just want to run away and hide. You take a few breaths before you speak, desperately trying to get the small talk out of the way to make room for the big talk. 

“Are you warmed up now?” 

“Yes, much better now.” 

“Good.” 

“This is a nice place,” he looks around slowly. “You did well.” 

“Thank you. It’s cozy. I like it here.” 

“Good, I’m glad.” 

A silence fills the air for a few moments. You nervously twiddle your thumbs. 

“So… you’re probably wondering why I came here.” 

You nod your head, staring ahead at the flames, “Yeah.” 

“I… came here to ask if… if there’s any chance of us getting back together,” he says your name cautiously. 

The ball of anxiety that’s been growing for the past hour in your chest pops. 

“I know I’m not good at this sort of thing. But the last few weeks have been hell, and that’s putting it lightly. I should’ve treated you better, listened to you when you voiced concerns about our relationship instead of shutting down. I know that now. And I’m willing to do better, to be better. I have not been able to sleep more than an hour per night because all I see when I close my eyes is you. I still love you and I need you.” 

Your breathing has become erratic but you force it to be quiet and not noticeable so Levi doesn’t see. You close your eyes and lean back on the sofa, not knowing what to say for a moment. 

He whispers, “Please say something.” 

“Did you even hear yourself just now?” 

The question comes out more bitter than you would like. Levi stays silent, waiting for you to continue. You glare at him. 

“You still don’t get it, even after all this time. All the discussions we had. Pretty much all of what you said only concerned you and your well-being. What about me?” 

He nods. 

“Levi, being with you was so fucking hard. Even on days when we had even a few hours to spend together uninterrupted, I was only thinking about the next time you were going to leave. You were gone more than you were with me. That takes a toll on anybody. Imagine if the situation was reversed. How long could you take that before you decided that enough is enough?” 

“I understand your perspective. I thought that when we got together, you knew about all this. I told you that being with me wasn’t going to be easy.” 

“I thought I could handle it,” you shrug. “But turns out, being with you was harder than I could’ve ever expected. Especially on days when I needed you and you weren’t here.” 

“The government is falling. The Jaegerists are taking over everything. I don’t know if you realize this, but everything I do is to protect humanity, which includes you. And I made a promise to Commander Erwin.” 

“Of course. And who am I to get in the way of that?” 

“The only person who can.” 

You look toward him and his gaze is fixed on the fire, the orange and yellow flames lighting his cold blue irises up in the most unusual way. After a second, they revert to yours. 

“Answer me just one thing: was being with me really that terrible?” 

“Of course not,” you answer without any hesitation. “There were many moments in our relationship I loved and still love. I was just thinking about this earlier, but how you used to come home with those beautiful blue flowers or the bread for dinner. Those small gestures are what they are, small, but they meant a lot to me.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Waking up next to you was one of the biggest reliefs, too. Knowing you were there to keep me safe. And when we made love.” 

“I like those memories, too. But I knew there was something wrong when you couldn’t get pregnant, no matter how far we went.” 

You recall the doctor’s visit with Levi. That fateful day they told him that due to his low sperm count, he was infertile. Which, you didn’t quite know how that was possible due to the… size of his loads. But the doctor said that, in rare cases, being severely depressed or stressed can cause infertility in men. And that wasn’t too far off the mark. 

You look to the ground and recall how distant he was after that for a few days. Neither of you was too fond of the idea of having kids, but knowing that the option wasn't even there dealt a blow to the both of you. There were times when you daydreamed about what it would be like to have a little Levi running through the house. The biggest obstacle that you faced about the idea is the state of the world. If you had a choice, you would’ve chosen to not be born. The constant fear of living under the tyranny of the titans was a miserable existence. 

Thankfully though in the past few years, with the Scout Regiment exploring beyond the walls and reaching the sea, humanity was finally free from that tyranny. 

Levi calls your name. You look at him, snapping out of your thoughts. 

“Hm?” 

“Still with me?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” 

“I go back to my original question: is there any chance of us getting back together?” 

You take a deep breath. You have known your answer from the start. 

“No, there isn’t.” 

You almost hear Levi lose his breath. He sits up on the sofa and leans over, putting his elbows on his knees and dropping his head towards the floor. 

“I’m sorry Levi, but… I’m happier now.” 

“Is there somebody else?” 

“What? No.” 

He’s quiet for a moment. The silence is almost unbearable. It’s so tense you could cut it with a knife. 

“If that’s truly how you feel… can I ask one more thing of you before I leave your life for good?” 

“What?” 

“Make love to me one last time.” 

You’re taken aback by his answer. You thought maybe he was asking you to be safe in your day-to-day life, but this was entirely unexpected. He lifts his head up and looks in your direction through the dark tendrils of his hair. 

“Levi, I–” 

“I know. I would just like for us to enjoy one another one last time. But only if you want to, too.” 

You sigh. You definitely don’t feel pressured by his words but just conflicted. He was always intensely respectful when it came to sex with you. Always asking if it was okay, even years into the relationship. It was never pressured from you. In fact, if anything, it was the other way around. Always wanting him. You could never quite get enough. 

You remembered the last time you two fucked. Months ago. Never in a million years would you have thought that it was going to be the last. Perhaps this is a good way to get closure for the both of you; to finally sever the tie. 

He looks at you in a pleading way. 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

He leans back on the sofa and opens his arms, “Then come here.” 

His hand reaches for yours and you look at it for a moment. You’re not sure if this is the greatest idea, but Levi was always a man of his word. Once this is done, he’s leaving your life. For good. After breaking his heart, you could give him this one last thing for him to close this chapter in his life and move on. 

Your hand reaches for his and his fingers close around yours and tugs you in gently. The space between you two on the couch closes and he brings his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. You do the same as he places a hand on the side of your face. His thumb slowly strokes the flesh of your cheek. You can feel his heartbeat raging in his chest against yours. 

After three breaths, Levi pulls away and plants his lips softly on your hairline and lingers for a moment. You feel a stinging in your eyes intensify as he does this. You would most definitely miss this soft side of him, this vulnerable side of him. But you can’t afford to think about it now. This is your decision and your decision alone. 

Levi pulls his mouth away from your forehead and looks at you again, drinking the sight of you in the glow of the fireplace. 

“You’re so beautiful.” 

Before you have the chance to even respond, his lips land on yours in a desperate but delicate way. You lean into the kiss and push back into him. And reality hits: you remember that this is going to be the very last time you two do this together. You savor every moment. You give your all in each and every kiss, every touch. And he seemingly does the same. 

You retreat from his face and get up from the couch. 

“Come on.” 

When you two are in your room, his touch almost instantly becomes needier. He pants in between open-mouthed kisses where his tongue is desperate to feel yours. Low groans rip from his throat with almost every exhale. His length, concealed behind the white towel that still hangs from his hips, strains against your leg to be freed. His fingers slither across your waist and his arm gently wraps around your back to lower you onto the bed comforter. 

He lays in between your legs and everything slows down again. His kisses are so tender and loving. He deviates and goes to your cheeks, your jawline, your neck, your hairline. You know in his mind that he’s savoring every last kiss. It’s almost as if he’s treating you like a fragile item that’s going to break with the slightest touch. 

Your fingertips gently trace along the strong muscles of his back when his tongue makes a long stripe along your collarbone. Your back arches up toward him and you run a hand through his hair. His palm reaches up and kneads your right breast methodically, taking your hard nipple in between his fingers through your robe. Your eyes close. 

“Levi…”

“May I take it off?” 

“Yes.” 

He sits up and takes the belt of your robe in his hands and gently pulls it toward him. The bust immediately falls open. His veiny hands run up your body from your hips and to your shoulders, diving into the fabric to push it all the way off of your torso. He tosses it to the floor. He stares at you from above and drinks your entire body in. His tongue runs over his lips. 

“What a sight…” he murmurs, whisping his fingertips over your naked belly and sternum methodically. “I’ve never seen anyone, or anything, quite as breathtaking as you.” 

Your cheeks heat up as you give him a small smile. He chuckles weakly and shakes his head. 

“I know I never will.” 

You fight the feeling of your eyes stinging behind your lids as he lowers his lips to yours and works to remove his towel. Levi has always been a man of few words. But he’s never told you these things before. Why now? Why at a time like this? 

The both of you are now completely naked against one another. The feeling of his warm chest on yours is something you’ve missed. In the moment, it feels like you two are one. The world has stopped. You place your hands on the side of his face and he grabs your wrist and holds onto it. His tongue delicately explores your mouth again, slipping against yours with ease and softness. 

His mouth makes its way south to the corner of your lips, your chin, your jaw, your neck. His tongue runs over one of your perked nipples with an elongated lick. He grabs your breast and begins to suck, taking his time to carefully wrap his lips around it. As the sound of his licking echoes in your ears, your arm wraps around his head and pushes him into your chest further. His other hand massages your other breast and he switches between the two. He does this for a few minutes. At one point, he licks one just once and then goes to the other. 

By the time he goes further down your body, your nipples are reddened and slightly swollen from his assault. He pecks, licks, and kisses your ribs, making you squirm underneath his touch with such need that you haven’t felt in months. On his way further down, his tongue circles your belly button. He tenderly places both of your legs up on the rounds of his shoulders and settles in between your legs. 

He presses a kiss on the lips of your pussy. In his mind, this is the wettest you’ve ever been for him. In your mind, you think the same. Your fingertips find his hair and gently stroke through it. He bobs his head slowly up and down as his tongue slides up and down your cunt and produces waves of pleasure that radiate through your pelvis. You throw your head back and close your eyes, relishing the feeling of him in between your thighs. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he praises with a muffled voice and intertwines a set of your fingers in his. “Enjoy yourself.” 

Your hips rut up against his lips. You simply cannot help it. And Levi doesn’t stop you, either. In fact, he likes it. Low groans emit from his mouth and vibrate into your sex. It feels so good. He always loves pleasing you and making you feel good. So much so that a lot of the time, he was perfectly content not getting himself off. Getting you off was getting him off. And you adored him for that. 

Just when there’s enough of his spit and your arousal to drip down into the comforter, he takes one of his fingers in his mouth, circles it against your entrance, and slowly pushes it in. The feeling makes you whine loudly. Your pussy clamps down on his digit and Levi swears in his mind that you’ve somehow gotten tighter. He can’t wait to slide his cock into it again and feel just how good you are. 

He hooks his finger up into your G-spot. 

“Shit, Levi, fuck, yes.”

“Feeling good?” his breath fans on your cunt but his finger continues.

“Yes.” 

“Good,” he says as he shoves another finger in. “I want you to cum all over my fingers. Can you do that for me?” 

You nod your head as you gasp out, unable to form a proper verbal response to his plea. 

“You always make me so proud, you know,” he says in between kissing, sucking, and licking. “So smart. So passionate. So obedient. So goddamn gorgeous...” 

The combination of the praising, his mouth, and his fingers is enough to get you to the edge very quickly. When his tongue slides up and down and back and forth across your clit again, you stop moaning and even stop breathing. It feels too good. Your legs stiffen on Levi’s shoulders. You begin to shake. 

“Levi, I’m… I’m close.” 

“That’s it, thaaat’s it…” he coaxes as your clit is sucked. “Give it to me. I want it. I want every drop of my pretty girl’s cum down my throat. Please, baby.” 

His pleading is so desperate and needy. It pushes you over.

“I’m cumming, Levi, I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming…” 

Your hips rock up against his mouth again and you grip Levi’s hand in yours so harshly that your knuckles turn white. He continues to moan against your pussy. Initially, you don’t make a sound. Your orgasm just absolutely rips through you so hard that you can’t even make a sound. Once you can actually inhale, you scream out Levi’s name over and over again. It’s all you can register. He continues his actions as you go through the motions of your orgasm. You squirm and have to physically push his head away to get him to stop as your clit becomes too sensitive to touch. 

You pant heavily. Your eyes remain closed. Mouth agape. He comes up to your mouth and kisses you. When his tongue plays with yours again, you taste yourself on him. You moan out quietly in response. You two stay like that for a few minutes as you get a bearing on your surroundings again. Your palm plants itself against Levi’s chest and pushes him down onto the bed. He complies. 

You turn around to grab a hair tie from the drawer of your nightstand. You push it down your wrist and climb over Levi’s waist so you straddle him from above. He looks up at you as you tie up your hair. He reaches up and grabs your breasts, kneading them in his hands just like before. Your hips grind back and forth so your pussy lazily slides up and down on his cock. Your cum covers his length. He reaches down and uses his thumb to stroke your wetness up to the underside of his swollen head. 

When your hair is up, you lean over and kiss him. His hands immediately land on your waist. They run up and down the length of your body. You feel him tilt his hips up into yours with want. You work your way down his body, just like he did. When you reach his nipples and take them in your mouth, he groans loudly. You know that’s one of his more sensitive spots. 

“Shit, that feels good.” 

Your mouth works one nipple, your thumb works the other. He’s panting so loud and fast that it sounds like he’s just run a marathon. He’s squirming and jerking slightly. He buries a hand in the lower half of your tied-up hair and tightens his grip on it. You love how easily it was to break down Humanity’s Strongest with just a flick or two of your tongue. 

When you decide that he’s had enough, you move down to his strong stomach, kissing every muscle and scar there. He watches you like a hawk and presses his length up against your body to get some relief, as well as to encourage you to move faster. Instead, you latch your mouth to his skin to make dark hickies all over his lower torso. This is something you’ve never done to him before. He moans quietly as you do so. The mix of dull pain and intense pleasure is something that he could definitely tolerate. 

Over the course of a few minutes, you successfully manage to leave three dark purple marks with speckles of red along the skin of his hips. You press your lips to each one and Levi’s dick twitches against your collarbone. He looks down at the marks you’ve made and a smirk spreads across his features. You know he likes it. 

You shift downward so his length is right in front of your face. You wrap a hand around his dick, around its base, and a strained hiss leaves his lips. He shifts his hips up into your grip. The head is just absolutely glistening with precum and even a couple of translucent drips have traveled down to his balls. 

Eagerly, you make one giant stripe with the flat of your tongue up the underside of his entire cock. The groan he lets out sounds like one of relief. Still, his intense gaze on you doesn’t waiver. His taste dances across your mouth. You lick your lips. Always tastes so good. 

“Let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours, princess. Let’s see that tongue.” 

You follow his orders and he grabs at the base of his length to slap the head of himself against your tongue over and over again, producing a wet, muted slapping sound. When he can’t take it anymore, he gently pushes his cock into your mouth. He plants a soft grip on your scalp and uses it to guide your entire head up and down on him. He’s so gentle with it. He throws his head back and his entire body twitches with pleasure. His muscles move and contract deliciously in the light. 

It is moments like these where you relish Levi’s vulnerability. How he felt comfortable enough with you to let go. To let down his guard and focus on something other than his title and trauma. In your mind, you’ve always been thankful that’s something you can give to him. 

“Fuck, baby, fuck … I love fucking your mouth like this, could do it for hours … Only you can make this dick cum so hard and fast … You’re such a good girl, my good girl … Yes, yes, yes.” 

Each praise, each word that leaves his mouth leaves your pussy dripping with lust. He sounds so unhinged and needy that it’s actually making your cunt ache. All you can focus on is how sexy he looks as he continues to fuck your mouth to his heart’s desire. When you hear his moans get higher in pitch and his grip get slightly tighter in your hair, you know he’s close. He looks down at you every now and again, needing to see your eyes as you take him as well as you do. Your lashes batting at him is enough to drive him insane. 

Soon enough, he slows his rhythm in your mouth and pulls you off. His cock leaves your mouth a pop sound. He cups your face and pulls you up to him, then leans you both over so he’s hovering over top of you again. His lips are slow and passionate on yours and wrap around your tongue to suck on it. You both moan. 

“I’m going to slide it in now, baby.” 

“Please do.” 

“Please?” he raises an eyebrow and his tone evolves into one of teasing. “Are you begging?” 

“Maybe…” 

“I like it.” 

“Well in that case… please fuck me, Levi. Please fuck this pussy. Your pussy.” 

His eyes slightly widen but he’s quick to react. His hand guides his rock-hard length against your soaking slit in an up-and-down motion. The head rubs up against your swollen clit again and again. You bite your lip and shift your pussy back against him. He hums in satisfaction when he looks down and sees himself coated in you. 

He taps the head against your clit twice and pushes himself in. Both of you gasp. You instinctively cling onto his body, nails digging into his back, and he buries his face in your neck. He goes slow. Not slow to the point where it’s unbearable, but slow enough. You know he’s savoring you. It feels as though every inch of him is exploring every inch of you in a relaxed way. It feels nice. Unexpectedly nice. 

“I know I’ve said this a million times before,” he begins, slightly straining as he continues to roll his hips into yours. “But you feel so fucking good, baby. That pussy feels so good. So tight.” 

You moan and respond by kissing his neck. His cock continues to slide in and out of you at a slower pace. It feels like this is the deepest he’s ever been. He slides all the way in, balls deep, then all the way out, to his tip. As he does this, your G-spot is hit. You fidget against his body, wanting a better angle. 

“Are you comfortable?” he asks, stopping and looking at you. “Here, let’s put a pillow underneath you.” 

He folds a nearby pillow in half and uses his arm to lift your lower back up off the mattress. Swiftly, he puts the pillow beneath it. There’s a tension relieved from your upper back. He lowers you back down. All of this while he’s still inside.

“Better?” 

“Yeah, thank you.” 

He resumes thrusting and this time, he places a hand on your lower stomach and softly pushes down. This, in combination with the pillow, is a much better angle and feeling than before, even with how slow he’s going. It’s almost as if he read your mind. Maybe he just knows you that well. 

“Oh,” you moan. “This feels… nice.” 

“Good. Always want to make you feel good.” 

You press your lips to his as he proceeds to fuck you softly and slowly. It feels so intimate. So different from the past couple of months. It doesn’t take either of you long before you’re wanting to cum. When he picks up his pace slightly, you feel more pleasure in your pelvis as that spot inside you gets hit over and over again. The familiar sound of skin-on-skin slapping fills the room. Your cunt is gripping Levi’s dick with such force that, in his mind, he doesn’t know how much longer he can last. You’re in the same boat. Levi almost gets embarrassed, but then he remembers that it’s been a while since you two made love. 

“I’m almost there,” he whispers against your neck. 

“Me too.” 

“Cum with me, sweetheart.” 

“Mhm, okay.” 

“Can I… can I cum inside you?” 

“I’d be disappointed if you didn’t.” 

“Fuck, good.” 

A few minutes later, you and Levi orgasm at the same time. Your walls flutter around his dick as you cum and he pulses inside of you, covering every last inch of your pussy with ropes of his cum. You two moan out each other’s names so loudly that you’re slightly worried that the neighbors can possibly hear. He continues to fuck you through your orgasms before slowing down and eventually coming to a complete stop. 

He lays on top of you for a while. You run your hand through his hair and it nearly puts him to sleep. Both of you relish the post-coitus glow. 

But then reality hits and that glow vanishes with a snap of the fingers. 

* * * 

Once you’re up and dressed again, you fetch Levi’s clothes as he sits on the bed in his boxer briefs. To your relief, the clothes are finally dry. Once you fold them, you pad back towards the bedroom and open the door. You walk over to Levi and place them beside him when he’s unresponsive to your presence. 

“Thanks,” he mutters quietly. 

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you alone to get dressed.” 

“Appreciate it.” 

You sit on the couch and wait for him to appear. Your mind is racing with a million questions and a million thoughts. Truth be told, you’re questioning your well-thought-out decision that changed both of your lives just a few short weeks ago. Nights like these were the highlight of your relationship, no doubt. But they were far and few in between.

I cannot let one night cloud my judgment and allow it to question my decision, you think to yourself. What we did just now was for closure purposes, Levi said it himself. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts when you hear him call your name. He sits down on the couch next to you.

“How’re you feeling?” he asks, eyes staring into yours.

“Good! Feeling good. How about you?” 

“I’m doing well, too.” 

“Good, glad to hear it.” 

“I should probably head back to HQ. Sun is rising soon and you’re probably very tired.” 

“I’m not too tired, actually. But are you sure you wanna head back now? It’s still pouring rain out.” 

“Yes. Everyone is going to wonder where I am.” 

{🎵 Backroads (Redux) - Lonely The Brave}

It’s at this moment that you realize that your decision was the right one to make. 

The sucker punch you feel in your gut tells you that nothing is going to change. Not right now, anyway. There’s a part of you that will always love him, that will always be loyal to him. And who knows… maybe in the future things might be different, and you two can give things another shot. The future is unpredictable. 

But, for right now… you have to let him go. Not for only your sake, but his, too. 

You can’t fight the tears forming in your eyes. They cloud your vision and spill over your eyelids. He notices immediately and concern takes over his countenance. He takes your face in his hands and wipes away the tears making streaks down your cheeks. 

“I never wanted to let you go, Levi,” you say in a strained voice. “I still don’t want to let you go.” 

“Then don’t,” he pleads. “Don’t let me go. Please. We can figure this out.” 

“We can’t… we just can’t.” 

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because as long as you’re Captain Levi Ackerman, this will keep happening. I deserve someone who puts me first and you deserve someone who doesn’t make you feel bad about your title. Who is okay with loneliness. I’m just… I’m not that person.” 

Levi’s eyes start to water, too. And something in them lights up. Like he’s come to a realization or experienced an epiphany. His voice becomes shaky. 

“You’re right. I never saw it that way before now. I’ve been so damn selfish. You deserve so much more than I’ve been giving you. So much more than I can provide.” 

You can’t hold back anymore. You begin to sob and Levi quickly takes you in his arms. He holds onto you like you’re the last molecule of oxygen in a gas chamber. You do the same. He’s squeezing you so hard that it’s almost hard to breathe. You hear him softly cry into your shoulder, too. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes with your name in between sharp breaths. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Do you hear me?” 

He doesn’t respond. He continues to cry silently. 

“We’re just on different paths in life right now, a-and that’s okay,” you assure him. “I still had fun with you, and I don’t regret anything.” 

“Me neither.” 

You look up at the ceiling, at whatever god or higher power that may exist, and silently pray that both of you can survive this heartbreak. You pray for Levi’s healing. You pray for your healing. You pray that he remains safe on his missions. You pray that he will always return. And you pray that someday, you two have another opportunity to be together. 

You have a feeling that your prayers fall on deaf ears. 

You pull apart from the hug and his eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are blotchy. You reach out a hand and mirror his actions by wiping away the tears falling down his face. 

“Okay,” he grabs a tissue from your coffee table and wipes his nose. “I should head out.” 

“Okay.” 

You walk him to the door and once he slips on his shoes and prepares himself for a walk in the rain by putting his hood up and securing his jacket, he looks at you. Tears threaten to break from your eyes once more. 

“This doesn’t mean goodbye, you know,” his voice is still shaky as if he’s unsure of the words himself. “I’m still going to be around. If you ever need anything, you stop by HQ and ask for me. Or send me a letter. I promise I’ll be there.” 

“Okay.” 

“Come here.” 

You share another hug. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and neck. His wrap around your chest and under your arms. You wish, in your mind, that you could stay like this. Forever. You two stay like this for a long time. You hear him struggling to rein in his sobs. He talks again. Muffled by your clothing. 

“Thank you for everything.” 

“Thank you for everything.” 

He pulls away and looks at you with bloodshot eyes again. He leans over, turns the door handle, and opens the door. It’s cold, rainy, and windy. It sends goosebumps up your spine. 

“See you…” he says your name before he disappears into the night.

“Goodbye.”

* * *

End

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi heichou #levi x reader #levi x you #snk levi #levi ackerman smut #captain levi x you #levi x y/n #captain levi x reader #aot x female reader #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot x you #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk x you #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan smut #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin #shingeki no kyoujin levi #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #aot #snk

[sscamanderr]

Gods Above, Devils Below

Raphael x reader

Warnings: smut, fingering, bit of dub/con

Near-blistering air carried with it smoldering embers and the faintest hint of cherries. The House was his domain, the very pores in the rock filled with his scent, meant to overwhelm and lay claim to all those who enter and all those who would never leave. Despite this control Raphael had over his hellish home, it was steadily dwindling in the presence of the creature before him. Her scent was all that surrounded him. Her face that clouded his dreams. Her, the darling who bartered her soul so that her friends could be heroes and save her home of Baldur’s Gate. An honorable act had earned her a fool’s fate.

How the gods above should see her now, playing servant at his side on one of his castle’s many balconies with stoicism etched into her expressions, stray hairs whipped about her face by hell-wind. A golden tray with an ancient bottle of wine and a single goblet rested atop her upturned palms. Her eyes were frozen at a point ahead on the jagged and ashen landscape of his palace safely tucked away in his slice of Avernus. The darling dared not look at him—dared not spare him a glance that would hold him over through the night.

His lips curled in annoyance and he swore the woman braced herself. The slightest puff of her chest, the stiffening of her back already pin-straight. Raphael could not deny the swell of devious pride that just his change in attention caused such a reaction in her. She had been seeing him even without looking.

“Do pretend to be happy, little mouse. I could have you scoured away in my dungeons in Hope’s place, should you keep up your display of disrespect,”

He reveled in the way the delicate muscle under her eye twitched.

“Hope is a much better prize than I, devil, but do what you wish.”

Raphael let out a spirited sound from his chest. “Ha! What I wish for is a little appreciation for your current arrangement,” his eyes trailed down the woman’s body, the gossamer gown the color of the surrounding barren landscape leaving little to the imagination if he were to squint, “I allow you almost entirely free reign of the palace, meals, baths, music—“

“And endless poetry from yours truly?” She quipped. Her stoney stature finally broke. Raphael’s way to rejoice was to grace her with a slowly creeping smile.

“You’re such wonderful inspiration. Prayers ignored by the gods, forgotten by friends you risked your soul for,” the devil clenched a fist, “A little darling in the clutches of a fiend forevermore,”

Her gaze soured. The tray in her hands wobbled dangerously. “I know what I’ve done. That does not mean I have to enjoy it,”

“Ah, but it’s such a delight to try. Who knew lending fine treatment only leads to your torture instead?”

“‘Fine treatment’? I’m a servant,”

“My servant, yes,” Raphael stood, noting the way her eyes followed his form. He wondered if it would always be fear behind her fierce gaze or if he could see it change to awe. Or desire. Then he wondered again if he preferred the fear a little too much. “That’s what your contract says, dear one,”

“I know what it says!” She snapped. With a breath strained with anger she set the tray with his wine down on the small round side table nearby before it toppled completely. She stormed away from him, towards devils know where. Raphael remained quiet as he followed close behind—Oh how he loved to rile his little pet. He admired the glimpse of supple thigh as the material of her dress whipped around her legs in her movements of fury.

“Something burdens you,” Raphael gave no warning as his hand shot out to grip her wrist. The woman came to an abrupt halt at the threshold of his balcony. The golden bracer adorning her wrist clinked softly. “I gave your friends the solution they’d been fighting for, the happy ending you felt they so deserved. Yet you feel they don’t deserve it, right?”

Her jaw worked around her stuttered reply. “O-Of course they do.”

“Then what still burns so harshly in that brave heart of yours?” Raphael’s insides sang at the roll of her eyes.

“Do I really have to answer that?” She asked the air in front of her. Raphael gave but a small tug that had her spinning to face him.

His voice took a darker pitch. “Oh, I command it,”

This glorious creature of his stood shorter than he but perfected the act of looking down her nose at him nonetheless.

“Release me, devil,”

“That was not negotiable,” his grip tightened and the woman winced. She looked into his eyes, looking upon how they blazed in her presence. “And do call me Raphael,”

“Just yesterday you told me ‘it’s master to you’,”

“Answer,” he warned, and the woman squirmed. Her nostrils flared, that fire in her heart spread; Raphael basked in the heat.

“I regret every second,” she spat. “I called them friends. I held them. I even shared in their kisses. But they allow me to sell myself to help their cause. They left me down here to rot in a devil’s prison,”

Raphael inhaled deeply, audibly. “Your bitterness becomes you, darling. The taste of it is marvelous,”

The woman flinched, and he did not know if it came from his words or disbelief of her own. Raphael answered for her. “There it is. The truth you've been denying yourself of for all the time you’ve been in my domain,”

His little mouse’s fire doused. Raphael opened his fingers and she tucked her hand away. She hugged her arms across her chest, silky fabric catching gently on the gold bracer. “I did what I thought was right. I can only blame myself.”

“That is what I find most fascinating about you, dear one,” Raphael held her gaze and stepped closer, causing his delightful dear to maintain the distance with a hasty step backward.

“What’s fascinating?” Her question dripped with wariness though she refused to shrink away from him as he neared once again.

“Your loyalty to those most cruel to you. So-called friends wouldn’t leave you here this long without at least an attempt of rescue,” Raphael began, watching the woman’s nose crinkle, “The gods didn’t listen to you,”

“As you love to point out, devil,”

“Raphael,” he stated; a repeat reminder. “Let me finish now, pet.” He stalked forward until the woman had nowhere to run, nowhere to flee. Her back pressed against the stone railing behind her and her mouth pinched in helpless frustration. “The gods didn’t listen to you…” Raphael brought his knuckle under her chin and tipped it up so he could gaze upon the face that brought him such delicious turmoil, “but I will,”

Pretty lips parted and breath hitched. The struggle with realization danced behind her eyes. Her chin jerked back and away from his touch. What terrible games she played.

“There is nothing you can offer me,” she swallowed; Raphael watched her throat move and wanted to wrap his hand around it.

“On the contrary, my darling,” he pressed closer, sliding a leg between her own and finding now resistance. Her shock was evident, but she quickly gathered her wits and bared her teeth.

“You have Haarlep for your filthy needs,” The bite of her words left no marks.

“What of your filthy needs?” Raphael felt a smirk pull at his lips. “We are bound, dear one. I feel your loneliness—the ache it bears on you. You miss the affection of your companions. Look to me to remedy that,”

“I hate even looking upon your face, devil,” her palms pushed on his chest only to find him immovable. He took her hands in his and maneuvered her to face away. She yelped as her stomach pressed against the railing.

“Then don’t,” Raphael hissed in her ear from behind; he heard her swear in response. His hands released hers and they trailed up her arms. She dared not move. Gently as he wished, they slid over her trembling shoulders. Down her sides, to her hips.

Rage pooled around her, mixed with something else.

“You said you’d listen to me,” her statement sounded more like a question, asked with a sigh. Resignation. That’s what he detected.

“Yes, pet,”

Her hands gripped the stone she pressed against, “I want to see what my sacrifice helped,” she breathed unevenly, “That’s all I ask. I want to know exactly what I was worth,”

Raphael summoned a shimmering visage of the world above, of a healing Faerûn. Not free of conflict, but not at war; not under threat of the Elderbrain. Raphael felt the woman in his arms shake against his front but she held her head high.

“Thank you.” The statement was whispered but it echoed through him with all the strength it took her to say it.

“I am a man of my word, dear one,” he bowed his head and kissed the soft spot where her neck met her shoulder. Another shudder ran through her. This time she did not resist.

“Make it quick,” she said. Her words were edged with malice.

“You ask impossible things of me,” Raphael nipped at her earlobe. It earned him a growl. He drank it in as his hands crawled over the front of her thin gown. The piece draped in front lifted with weightless ease. His darling shifted, making the curve of her ass press against his hips.

She remained wordless as he grazed the bare plane of her belly with his fingertips. He brought himself closer against her, molding around her body and gliding his mouth over her neck. “I want to touch you, dear one. I will touch you, in all the ways we both need,” She inhaled sharply as his hand sank further down her torso and his middle finger found the slit of her. Heat pulsed from her swollen bud under the pad of his finger. Raphael let out a deep purr.

His darling bit back a moan. “Damn it, devil…”

He chuckled darkly as collected her wetness and began to rub rhythmic circles. Her jaw opened soundlessly beneath his lips. Raphael parted from her enough to watch her eyes flutter closed. Fingers joined together and applied more pressure. She whined. Music to his ears. The devil played her sensitive body like organ keys. Her back bowed. In arching her back she became a crescent moon. Glowing and pure in his world of darkness. Just a little sliver of her could make him howl. And he heard it.

“Raphael…” she pleaded. He could have crashed into his own climax with the brush of a hand. His name cried from her lips brought the old devil halfway to salvation.

His fingers curled and pumped inside her tight heat, slick dripping between them. She came undone with her head thrown back against his shoulder, knees weakening enough to make him hold her up with his own body. His darling collapsed into him, knuckles white from her grip around the stone railing. His chin nuzzled her hair and lips planted a kiss to her temple. Embers and cherries scented the air. Teeth grazed her neck, begging to sink in and claim her.

There was no need. Her soul already his. Now her body too. Maybe now she would come to welcome him enthusiastically, to let him make her forget the shared moments of intimacy with her companions. Maybe now she would look upon him without fuss, and with reverence as he tasted more and more of her. The possibilities made his fiendish heart race.

As he panted into her skin, he thought of the numerous deals he refused made by her friends for her release. Some more tempting than others: ascension, a throne, a crown. Raphael found it all too easy to resist. He’d gotten what he’d desired and he’d tell her one day about her friends’ attempts at being heroes again. Only when he was sure they could both laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it. Only when he was sure she would choose nothing else than to be at his side. Raphael could taste the delight of that future on his tongue. He would have it one day. They had eternity together, after all.

#bg3 #bg3 imagine #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 imagine #Raphael #Raphael imagine #raphael bg3 #Raphael bg3 imagine #my work

[five-rivers]

Cracked Clay Cup Chapter 14

@greatbigolhampuckjustforme

“I do not believe you have amnesia,” said Ember.  “I do not believe you have amnesia.  How are you so freaking–”

Phantom beaned Ember in the face with a seat cushion.  It might have been soft, but Ember didn’t exactly check to make sure that no one put gum under them after concerts.  

“LESS TALKING MORE SINGING!” Technus shrieked electronically. “NANOBOT ATTACK!”

“No!” said Skulker.  “Not the freaking–”  

A swarm of robots descended from vents in the ceiling.  Toy robots.  Brightly colored, with rounded edges.  They had lasers.  Ones that stung.  

“Ouch!” said Phantom.  

“Augh!” squeaked Ember.  

“Goddamn–” shouted Skulker before being borne under the colorful swarm.  

“BEHOLD, MY ROBOT ARMY!”

Freaking Leeroy-Jenkins-looking–

Phantom shoved them to the sides of the room with a wave of ecto-energy. 

“Hey, speaking of that, do you know Vlad?”

“Speaking of what?” demanded Ember, pulling gum out of her hair.  She was going to kill him for that.  “Freaking robot armies?  Are you going to tell us that Plasmius has a robot army?”

“AND HE DIDN’T BUY IT FROM ME?”

“Of course he wouldn’t!  Ol’ Plaz is a loser but he knows about malware.”

“No, I mean, like, I learned that move from him,” said Phantom.  “And, like, it does seem like all of you guys know each other, yeah?  I’m the point of contact, probably, but still–”

“Actually, no,” said Ember.  “Skulker’s been working for Plasmius for ages.”  Skulker had also clawed his way out of the robots and was now sneaking up on Phantom rather effectively.  

Except, suddenly, it wasn’t so effective.  Phantom twisted, reached back, hooked his fingers under the edge of Skulker’s helmet and heaved.  Skulker’s head popped off cleanly before soaring across the auditorium.  

Phantom stared after it for a moment, then shrieked, loudly.  “His head!  Oh, gosh, his head.”

Okay, maybe the dipstick did have amnesia.  

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t mean to–  His head came off.  His head.  Is he– He’s already dead, is he–  I didn’t mean to hurt– to end–”  The main part of Skulker’s armor fell over with a clatter.  

“Oh my god,” said Ember, flying over to Skulker.  The actual Skulker.  In the pilot’s seat in the helmet.  Usually she wouldn’t do this, but Phantom looked like he was about to cry.  She picked him up and yanked him out of the helmet.  “This is Skulker.  He just likes to stomp around in a suit of armor, ‘cause he’s compensating for something.”

“Hey!” squealed Skulker.  

“It’s a mecha!” chimed in Technus, proudly.  “My own design!”

“That’s… actually pretty cool,” said Phantom.  “But I think– I think I need to– Go home.  And lie down or something.  Have a, um, a good one.  We’ll hang out later.  Or fight.  Yeah.”  He hit a button on his weird necklace pocketwatch and disappeared.  

“Well,” said Ember.  “That was anticlimactic.”

“Yeah.”

“Kind of was.”

“Wanna keep fighting?” she asked.  

“YES!”

#danny phantom #phic phight #phic

[ceruleancattail]

ceruruuuuuu whats ur favorite cater card art?

…. Excellent question.

OK MY HEAD WAS BLOWING STEAM WITH THIS ONE, I GENUINELY LIKE ALL OF HIS CARDS… for varying reasons. It’s not because I’m biased because I like him, uh nuh-

I have all the cards of cater released in the en server but that’s just a coincidence, trust me on this one ok-

BUT MY FAVOURITE HAS TO BE HALLOWEEN CATER. HALLOWEEN CATER.

Ok just look at this. He’s serving✨

I love the unique angle of this card, the way he’s slipping off the hat, and the detail of the veil covering his face. It just goes to show the layer he keeps within him and the people around him.

The way he keeps a distance, despite still being “Cater”. I really like the contrast his eyes have to the warm orange lighting and the dark background, because they seem to almost glow, giving an eerie, ghostly sort of effect to this entire card.

The lighting of the Jack’o lanterns illuminating him with a soft orange, ember sort of glow is just so cool. It feels like a sort of artificial warmth, surrounded by the chill of the night. I love love love it so so so much.

I might be reading too much into this card but I have to tear this apart with my teeth I love it so so so so so much GRRRRRRR

THE GROOVY HAVING A INSANE CONTRAST FROM A WARM SOMBER SORT OF LIGHT TO THIS COLD, STRANGE MIST LIGHTING IS INSANE. JUMPSCARE FR.

I love like deranged he looks now, compared to the picture perfect model from the earlier card. His hair is tousled up, he’s on all fours, stretching out towards the camera, reaching for something for me teehee (delusional) AND THE WAY THE LANTERNS LOOK SO MUCH MORE SINISTER BEHIND HIM????

BRO CLIMBED RIGHT OUT OF THE GRAVE WITH THAT SMUGASS SMIRK RRRRRR!!!!!! Biting this card like a freaking chew toy-

FOR THE LONGEST TIME THIS WAS MY HOMESCREEN CHARACTER OUTFIT SHENEJKSW I FUCKING LOVED IT

ISN’T HE CUTE? ISN’T HE SO NAUSEATINGLY ADORABLE???? THE LITTLE WINK??? THE SMILE AS HE HOLDS UP HIS HANDS IN THE “ROAR” POSE???? GRRRRRRRRRR I’M GONNA THROW UP FROM HOW GOOD HE LOOKS!!!!!! HANDSOME BOY HANDSOME BOY!!!!!

I LOVE THE LACE CORSET THING HE HAS GOING ON FOR THE ENTIRE OUTFIT SO MUCH. THE WHITE ROSES (?) ON HIS SLEEVES AS WELL WKSNWJWKWKWKWKEKEKJE IM GNAWING ON THEM!!!!! THE DETAILS THE TATTERED CAPE THE LITTLE SKULL ON HIS FUNKY LITTLE HAT IS EVERYTHING TO ME. EVERYTHING.

I’m just questioning the crotch… like…. Hm. Why? Why is it laced there? Oh well-

BUT EVERYTHING LOOKS SO GOOD HEARTSABYUL ATE THE MAKEUP WITH THE SMOKY EYELIDS MAKES ME INSANELY FERAL I HAVE NO IDEA WHY PLEASE SAVE ME FROM THIS MAN.

ALSO THE GROOVY VOICELINE SLAPPED ME SO HARD I’M STILL SEEING STARS LIKE ON GOD- YANA KNOWS CATER’S TARGET AUDIENCE FR FR ITS ME I’M THE TARGET AUDIENCE/j

FUCK!!!! THIS WAS SUCH A SHOCK TO MY ASS LIKE I JUMPED AND WAS LIKE OH NO I’M BEING CALLED OUT-

Like you could take this two ways. One is the whole “you took the effort to know the real me (dug me up), so you’re now an important figure in my life, please don’t leave me”

AND THE OTHER IS THE WHOLE YANDERE SCENARIO THING LIKE “You know who I really am, unearthed the real Cater Diamond… don’t think I’ll ever let you leave me.”

Am I delusional? Yes. Am I self aware and properly ashamed of myself? Yes. But this VOICELINE gave me brainrot for weeks so this card makes me so so so ill. Ill for this man!!!!! THIS MAN!!!!!

HIS STORY WAS SO FUCKING SAD IN THIS CARD THO I WAS LIKE NOOO!!!! I HATE YOU BUT LIKE BRO DO YOU NEED A HUG??? DO YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TALK TO??? MY MAN????

but yes this is my favourite Cater Card to date. Sorry for the whole ass ramble I got too silly.

#the mage’s hat 🎩 #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #cater diamond #I hate him btw but I have to admit he slayed with this one

[whyse7vn]

FOREVER 24 -

[ot7 x reader]

NAMKOOK MONTH!!

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

jin: namjoon be honest are you bald by choice?

namjoon: yes

yoongi: pretty shit choice

jk: namjoons bald?

tae: cancer :/

jk: OMG???

y/n: that’s not funny tae

tae: not cancer

jk: oh…

jimin: why do you sound disappointed

namjoon: why wouldn’t it be by choice

yoongi: cuz it’s a shit choice idk

jin: was wondering if tae shaved ur hair off by accident or something

namjoon: why would that ever happen

jk: why would you choose to be bald?

namjoon: it’s hot

y/n: hot as HELL

hobi: drop it like hot

namjoon: i hate summer

y/n: wait

jimin: we’re talking about temperature btw

hobi: not the seventeen song?

y/n: not namjoon?

tae: i’d get him pregnant if i could

y/n: 🙏🏽

jin: what

tae: i’m a man full of love

yoongi: full of shit

tae: some say i over love actually

i overlove

i overthink

i overfeel

❤️

jimin: you underbathe

jk: i love to bathe

hobi: it doesn’t show

y/n: i have to dress jungkook everyday so he doesn’t embarrass me

jin: that’s sad

yoongi: why would the way he dress effect you

y/n: we live in the same house if i let him dress himself some people might suspect child neglect

jk: neglect

namjoon: the worst part about it is that you let her jungkook

tae: what have i told you about standing up for yourself kookie

jk: i enjoy it actually

tae: stop talking

you can’t keep embarrassing me like this

jk: i’m sorry

tae: if you were sorry you would change

jk: i will change

for you i’ll always change

jimin: get a room?

hobi: is it not jungkooks birthday today?

jk: happy birthday 🎂 💜

oh that’s me lmao

jin: idiot

y/n: it’s tomorrow

jk: when she knows ur birthday 😍

tae: when’s mine lol

namjoon: are we having a party?

yoongi: not coming

jimin: let’s have it at yoongi’s place

yoongi: what

can you not read??

y/n: we can have a sleepover party!!!!

that would be so cute

tae: super cute!!

it would also be cute if you told me when my birthday was loool

jin: give up

i’ll bring drinks

namjoon: i can do snacks

jimin: NO YOU WONT

last time you were on snacks you brought us a whole load of plant based crackers

hobi: i can be snack man

y/n: i can decorate yoongi’s place a bit before

yoongi: wtf is wrong with you all

when i don’t open the door to any of you

y/n: i have a key?

yoongi: you do?

y/n: don’t act like you didn’t know

yoongi: idk what ur talking about

that’s pretty scary actually

jimin: get a room pt 2?

tae: let me in the room lol

when was i born @y/n

jk: all of this for me 🥺🥺

jimin: don’t flatter urself i just want to drink

hobi: what about a cake??

namjoon: i can get one

tae: you can just say the month i was born forget the date lmao

jin: how old is he turning?

jk: 26

jimin: 25???

hobi: i thought he was 23?

namjoon: i think it’s 24

yoongi: 1

y/n: he’s been 24 for like 5 years in a row

jin: somone google it

actually nvm i don’t care enough

namjoon just gonna put 24 on the cake

jk: is it a surprise party?

yoongi: are you stupid?

jimin: yes now close ur eyes ok?

jk: ok

hobi: there’s no way

y/n: jungkook…

yoongi: he is stupid

tae: i’ll give you a hint it ends in ember

namjoon: tae shut up

y/n go tell jungkook to open his eyes

jimin: here comes the fun police guys

y/n: sir yes sir 🫡

tae: lol i’m into that

hobi: tae got a really round head

tae: WTF NO I DONT

my head is perfect

jin: no because i was thinking the same thing it’s BIG as hell too

tae: ur wrong

if anything

yoongi’s head is CRAZY ngl

yoongi: why the fuck did you word it like that

y/n: yoongi and tae fucking omg???

jk: plot twist

jin: look who opened his eyes

jk: it’s me lol

he’s talking about me

cuz my eyes were closed

jimin: we know

hobi: open your eyes - 7th sense nct u

y/n: neo got my back 💚

tae: whose neo why is he touching ur back

is this consensual???

can he fight??

namjoon: you all are getting to old to be acting like this still

hobi: wdym jungkook is only 24?

jimin: maybe he’s talking about jin

jin: BACK OFF NAMJOON UR BALD

namjoon: i’m so tried

jk: i bet ironman is tired rn

yoongi: didn’t he die??

jk: you can be tired in heaven as well yoongi

jimin: beyoncé probably tired rn but she still looks pretty what’s ur excuse namjoon

hobi: bald people can’t be pretty

tae: about to cook guys wish me luck

yoongi: kys

tae: what

jk: keep yourself safe?

yoongi: kill yourself

tae: i’m gonna ignore you

y/n: jungkook shake ass on tiktok

jimin: ew

jk: ok

jin: you literally have no backbone jungkook

jk: ummm yes i do

i am no worm

namjoon: 😕

hobi: if she told you to jump off a cliff would you

yoongi: pls

jk: who

y/n: jungkook jump off a cliff

jk: what cliff

where is it

i’ll do it

jimin: not surprised

hobi: i think every year he decreases in age

jin: that makes a lot of sense

tae: i just deep fired an apple

y/n: why

tae: stay tf out my business

y/n: i hope you never see happiness

namjoon: what time is the party btw?

yoongi: never

jk: happy birthday 💜

hobi: we ride out at dawn

tae: should i bring deep fired apples

jin: i don’t even fuck with you all i won’t lie

y/n: do you think nct will perform for us

tae: sausage fest woah

yoongi: there is something really fucking wrong with you

tae: me and ur mother be fucking lol

yoongi: he’s not invited

someone kick him

nvm i’ll do it

yoongi kicked tae from "namkook month!!"

jk: do you think fish get lonely when they’re alone

jin: you think fish have kinks?

hobi: what if fish were behind the titanic crash

jk: what if they were in front of it

y/n: wow that’s insane

jk: ikr sometimes you have to think outside the box

jimin: you think outside the box constantly!

hobi: bro thinks outside the triangle 💀💀

jin: what does that even mean

jk: thanks guys!!!

namjoon: i asked a question

y/n: are we in school rn?

jin: yk i love a good bit of role play 🙈

yoongi: isn’t it better without him

jin: who’s him?

yoongi: exactly

jimin: i’m him

y/n: i could throw up

jk: do you know the muffin man?

namjoon: can we decide on a time pls

jk: OMG

what if we all just show up and see if we’re all in sync with each other

namjoon: that’s stupid

yoongi: i agree i’m not mentally connected to you guys in anyway shape or form

y/n: yoongi’s lying we talk telepathically all the time

jk: YOU DO???

jimin: ….

hobi: i agree with jungkooks idea

wow

never thought i would say that

wow…

sorry give me a minute guys

jk: take all the time you need bro

yoongi: he just insulted you

jk: WHO?????

jimin: i’ll be there at 6

PM btw

jk: i don’t think you understand what we are doing jimin

ur not supposed to tell us

jimin: stop talking to me

namjoon: 6 ok

fucking finally

y/n: dw jk jimin’s a bit yk…

jk: ohhhhh ok

i’m sorry jimin

6 sounds like a plan wink wink lol

jimin: never fucking wink wink lol at me again you rat

hobi added tae to "namkook month!!"

yoongi: do you hate me

hobi: sorry he wouldn’t stop calling me

i don’t like being harassed

tae: hiii guys did you miss me

yoongi: no

yoongi left "namkook month!!"

jin: if i was to ever pass out it would go like this

heLLLLOOOPPPP

HELPPPP ME PLSS

ITS ALL FADING TO BLACK

HELPPPPP 😩😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😰😨

GASP

HELP

🫨🙄😵‍💫😵 (that’s my eyes rolling to the back of my head btw)

now i’m passed out £2!2£2&:&&;&;&;&;&;&,&;&;;;8;&&:&&:8:88;87,7,7,£,£,£;&;&;&,7,7,7,77,7,8;&:,&,&&,&,&,&,&,?&,&&?&&&,&,&,&:7,7,7,7;77;£,£;7££;£,,£,7,7,7,&&,&,,’cmnnmmmm98828:&,&,&,&,&:&,&,&,&,£,£,£,£,

and scene

jk: wow that was really good

it really felt like you passed out

jimin: wish you would pass out for real

jimin left “namkook month!!”

hobi: i don’t think it’s healthy that after one conversation everyone just ends up leaving the gc…

namjoon left “namkook month!!”

tae: no but fr who is namkook and why is it their month what a selfish bitch

y/n left “namkook month!!”

hobi: nvm i get it

hobi left “namkook month!!”

tae: lowkey i think you might be the problem jungkook…

jk: you think so?

tae: yeah lol

jk: why can’t you be the problem?

tae: why would i be the problem?

jk: i can’t always be the problem

tae: you seem to make it work

jk: ur not invited anymore

tae: what

jk: to the party

don’t come

ur uninvited

tae: don’t say things you’ll regret jungkook

whose gonna bring the deep fired apples if i don’t come??

jk: i’ll make it work

like i always do

this is goodbye taehyung

bye

jk left “namkook month!!”

tae: what the fuck

—

happy jk day !! clearly this was written yesterday lmao

#bts crack #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fic #bts text #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #namjoon x reader #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts texts #rm x reader #suga x reader #v x reader #jhope x reader #hobi x reader #bts fake chats #bts incorrect texts

[gripefroot]

Fire Night

For once, his timing is impeccable. 

Not that you’d ever turned him away, of course, or even said anything temptingly snarky when he showed up while you were digging out mud from a creek bank and covered in leeches, or once, before dawn when you’d been passed out cold and therefore screamed like a banshee when he tapped on your bedroom window. 

But this. You could get used to this. 

Kiln nights can be a challenge, taking days to properly prepare and execute. Chopping wood for fuel, repairing the stone oven a quarter-mile from your cottage where it was safe to keep the blazes going for days on end to fire your pottery. Carrying the glazed pieces from the cottage to the kiln. Building the fire. Keeping it going through a night and a day and a night on very, very little sleep; because rest doesn’t compare to getting paid. 

Repairing the stone oven remains your job. But Law has spent all afternoon with a wheelbarrow bringing loads of wood to dump near the oven. He’d doffed his shirt almost immediately, already tanning in the sweltering summer sun. Kiln nights are miserable if the weather is too cold; but summer makes sitting close to the oven all night tending the fire miserable, too. 

Every crack sealed, you sit up from the grass and rub mud from your hands. 

Not exactly the hands of a lover, but he’d never minded. 

“Is this enough?” Law asks. His sixteenth load of wood. Not that you’d been counting. Or watched his backside when he’d walked away for more each time. Sweat glistens on his face as he wipes his brow with his forearm, eyes bright as he looks you up and down. As if laying belly-down on the grass and elbow-deep in mud is exactly what he admires most in a woman.  

“Yes,” you admit. 

“Finally.”

“But,” you say. His shoulders deflate by a centimeter. “I need to bring down the items to go in the oven,” you tell him, amusement bubbling up. It seems obvious to you. 

“How many?” Law wanders over to crouch beside you, his nearness making your heart jump a little. Without a word he licks his thumb and drags it across your cheekbone. The mud must have splattered you at some point. 

“All of them.”

“All?”

“All,” you tell him ruefully. “It’s less work to do it in one big batch.”

Law’s expression is nothing short of incredulous. “All,” he repeats. You give into the temptation to laugh, nearly blocking out his next grumble: “You have five shelves in your house. All of them?” 

“You can keep asking, but I’m not going to change my mind,” you tease. “Why did you think I was so happy to see you this morning that I jumped on you?” 

He purses his lips, making a show of rubbing his backside where he’d landed after said jump. “Slave labor,” Law says. 

“It’s not slavery if you’re willing,” you say. 

“Keep that logic to yourself.” He tugs on a clump of your hair. “Fine. I’ll get all of your pots and things. But I’m cheating.” 

“I’m surprised it took you this long to cheat.” 

Law stands, brushing dirt and feathery bits from trees off of his jeans. “How could I have cheated when you keep sneaking looks at me like I’m a three-tier cake you’re going to eat tonight?” he asks, brows raised. 

“I was subtle!” you protest. The air goes funny and shimmery, echoing his laugh as he disappears from the glade in the blink of an eye. A thump draws your attention: one of your galoshes for mud-digging appears right where he’d been standing. “He’s taking that back, too,” you say, to no one in particular, and stand to wash your hands in the creek. 

Embers rush into the dusky sky to promptly fade, spinning back down to the earth. They’re snuffed beneath your feet, or your knees, or Law’s feet, or his knees. The oven barely fits all the pots, nestled together as close as is reasonably safe, before you’d sealed it with a final brick and more mud to keep the heat inside. Law works the bellows, blue and white flames spurting out of the top to chase the embers. 

“Hot enough?” he asks. His face is red, glistening in the glow from the oven. 

Carefully you pick your way to the oven as close as you can bear, leaning over to peer inside the chimney. “It’s glowing,” you say. “It’s enough for now, but we’ll have to bring it back up in thirty minutes or so.”

Law blew out a breath, sitting on his haunches. He’d worked hard all day alongside you, and it shows. It shows in his tired eyes. It shows in his strained smile. But any smile from him is a treasure. 

“Thirty minutes,” he repeats. “What should we do while we wait?” 

“Rest, probably,” you tell him. 

“I want to know if I’ve earned anything from you.” His eyes hone in on yours. 

“Don’t tell me, Law,” you say, walking around the oven in his direction, “that you only broke your back on my behalf today for something as small as a kiss.”

“I’m hoping for more than a kiss.” As soon as you reach him, his arm snakes out to wind around your thigh, holding you close. His face by your knee is a beautiful sight, orange in the reflection of the fire with deep shadows from the lengthening night around. His hand strokes up your thigh, you run your fingers through his thick, damp hair. 

“I have an idea,” you say softly. “Let’s take a quick dip in the river and then come back.”

Law’s brow arches. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Let’s set up my bedroll far enough away from the oven that we aren’t sweating.”

He breaks out into a grin. “We’ll sweat.”

“Yes, but not from heat, if you catch my drift.” 

“I do.” His fingers find the waistband of your pants. “I do catch your drift.” 

No one from town ever comes this far up the river at night. They don’t need to. So you strip off your shirt and pants by the bank, wading in stark-naked. The cool water hits your skin with a hiss, goosebumps pebbling across your body. Once up to your hips, you turn, trailing your fingers through the water to splash your front. 

“Aren’t you coming?” you call back. Law is mid-doff at the riverbank, jeans partway down his knees. He’s staring. With a laugh you crook a finger to get him to hurry up. It jolts him into action, tugging his jeans the rest of the way off. Then the air shimmers, and a second later his body is pressed up against yours in the middle of the river. 

“I’m coming, all right.” The words are muttered in your ear before his teeth sink into your shoulder. It only makes you shiver more, torn between the chilly water and Law’s heated body. The only problem is your front is cold and your back is hot. So you spin, trading sensations. His hands land on your hips, his half-smile visible in the night. 

“Well,” you say, lifting your arms out of the water. Droplets fall back, plunk-plunk-plunking into the stream while you wrap your arms around his neck. “While I’m here…” 

Little washing is accomplished. It cools you off, and rinses some sweat from his body and yours, but other than that? It’s forgotten in a tender, long-anticipated kiss that makes you hot all over again. He must be more impatient at the delay than he’d acted, because his long fingers waste no time digging into your rear end beneath the water, a low groan sounding in his throat. 

That groan makes your skin skitter in anticipation, heat blooming deep inside. He’s slick from the water, and warm and solid. When his tongue is at the seam of your lips, you let him in with a gasp, tasting pine and man. Traipsing around the woods all day has made him delicious. More delicious than usual. The sensual way he kisses reminds you of his tongue elsewhere; stroking deep and slow while his hands coast up your spine. 

“Law,” you choke out when his mouth goes to your throat to bite down hard enough to make you shiver. “Oh, Law. We can’t do this in a river.”

“Why not?” The question is a rumble in his chest, vibrating against yours. One hand on your rear, his other comes up to cup a breast, squeezing with your nipple pinned between his thumb and index finger.

Why not? Why not what? What had you asked? It had seemed so important then…but now, putty in his hands, you can’t remember what it is or why you’d cared. 

Down his chest, tracing the muscles. Your hand finds his erection, slipping beneath it to seize the sack. He grunts, thrusting forward as you laugh, and laugh, and laugh. He likes it. Especially now. Law pulls away, his eyelids lowered but not far enough for you not to see the sparkling stars reflected in the dark depths. 

“Someone’s greedy,” he says. 

“You started it,” you tease back. 

His lips tighten in a line. But he’s not grumpy about it. Not really. Especially when your fingers curl around the base of his cock, giving a tug that makes him sway. 

“Alright,” he grumbles. “Alright. You win.” 

Law bends over, hoisting you up and out of the river until you’re pistoned on his shoulder, the bone digging into your belly. Your shriek of surprise echoes down the river. Hopefully no one comes running. 

One sloshing step after another to the bank. Then out, clothes forgotten as he strides to the oven. Drips of water patter onto the ground. His free hand strokes up the back of your thigh, then gives your rear a whack that makes you squirm. 

“Not nice,” you huff. He’s too tall for you to reach his backside to retaliate. Not nice, and not fair. 

Despite his manhandling, Law sets you down gently, holding you up until he’s sure that your legs are bearing your weight. Then, grinning, he finds your bedroll in a pack of supplies that you’d brought that morning. The night air is not kind to wet skin. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering. And then you inch closer to the oven, radiating heat even from ten feet away. 

He shakes out the bedroll, laying it down. He’s never been a shy man. Not with his body, at least. But the sight of him standing fully nude and fully erect in the orange glow of the oven…your cheeks warm. His teeth gleam in the darkness. 

“I’ll warm you up,” he says, offering a hand. 

Too chilly to play coy, you bound across the space between you and him to encase yourself in his open arms. A clumsy kiss lasts all of two seconds before he bends at the knee, cradling you to carry you down, down, down. 

It’s practice or skill or instinctual; your legs cradling him as he nudges his hips into meet yours. The clumsy kiss lengthens, lips parting to drink each other in, with his hands everywhere. On your jaw, on your breasts, on your hips. Then, finally, with a jolt that drags a moan from your throat, his fingers dip between your legs. 

His breath is hot on your ear, your fingernails digging into his back for all you’re worth. “I missed this,” he sighed, catching your earlobe in his teeth. 

“Me - too.” The words are a gasp. His fingers slide sleekly against your sex; flaring up desire that already burns. “Law,” you breathe, hands moving up to plunge into his messy hair. “Oh, Law.” 

“Like I said. Greedy.” His chuckle is low and dangerous. “But I am too. Makes me crazy, y’know? Knowing you want me so bad. Knowing you’re here when I’m at sea and all I have to do is change my course, and in a matter of days I can be right here, inside you, where I need to be…”

Dizzy, you scarcely notice when his fingers pull away to be replaced by his cock. He’s slow to enter, rocking against you with his lips fastened to your neck. Each tiny thrust drives a groan out of him, and a gasp out of you. Tucking your knees higher, you reach down to hold onto him; to drag him in further - 

But he growls, grabbing your wrist in his. “No,” Law said roughly. Half inside of you, he pulls away, glaring down at you. “I’ll be moving at my own pace.” 

If his stubbornness didn’t guarantee your pleasure, you’d fight back. Nip back at him the way he nips at your fingers as if in reminder. He threads his fingers through yours, pressing your hand into the ground. Then he starts to move again, inch by inch; slow enough that your core twitches for more. You want to be full, he can fill you, but why does Law have to be such a tease? 

“That’s better,” he purrs, as if reading your emotion in your face. He smirks ear to ear, eyes never moving from yours as he pushes into you. 

“I like to touch you,” you say. 

“So do I.” 

“I wish you’d let me.” 

“Maybe I’ll let you later.” Pain in the rear as he was, Law tilts his body off of yours to wriggle his arm out, and yours, to properly pin down your opposite hand above your head, too. If his fingers weren’t so blasted long he might not get away with it, but he manages to hold you with one hand. The other, he trails down your cheek, your neck, and to your breast, which he cups. 

“I like to touch you,” he breathes. His nose brushes against yours, a tender display that makes your heart squeeze. “Thanks for letting me.” 

You stick your tongue out. He laughs. 

“That’s how I know you like being right where you are,” Law says. “You resort to being petty. You know I’m gonna make it worth your while, right?”

Yes. You do. 

“There we go.” His voice lowers to a whisper. “I can see it in your eyes, you know. The way you ache.” He draws his hips back, thrusting deeper inside. Your back arches against him, but his grip on your hands never lessens. Instead he bends over to match your angle, tongue against your lips. 

How he manages to have so much self-control boggles your mind. He’d wanted this all day just as much as you, yet he holds himself back. How? How? 

“Law.” It’s little more than a whimper. “Please.” 

“I know. I’ve got you.” This time the words are strained. Was he breaking at last? By the jerk in his hips that finally, finally seats him fully inside of you, you think he might. 

Law doesn’t tease anymore. He doesn’t coax, he doesn’t seduce. No. His mouth is hot on yours, every pant of breath filling your mouth as you kiss him, kiss him, use every ounce of your strength that’s available to welcome him inside. The ground is uneven against your back; the oven crackles, wind rushes through the tree branches above…

And the deep heat uncoils between your legs, building with each skillful thrust until he feels larger and thicker than ever. The only noise you can make is a long, drawn out “O - o - o - oh” that he must recognize, because he doesn’t slow, doesn’t change. Heartbeats later the pleasure rakes through your body in a single, cresting wave; starting and ending where he’s joined with you. 

“Good girl.” The words crack from his mouth, his tone deep. “I knew you could do it.” 

A few more, slowing thrusts send shooting stars through your veins, gasping for air while your heart batters in your chest. Then, finally, he stops, buried deep inside while his hands loosen on your wrists. 

“There.” Law grins. “Not so bad to let me do my thing?” 

“Well!” Your cheeks are hot, and his are red. “I’ve never been a man but I’m not convinced that takes too much skill. Just humping, really.” 

He stares. Humor tickles, making your lips twitch. 

“Just humping?” he repeats. 

“Now, if you’d licked me first,” you shrug, pretending angelic innocence as his expression darkens. “Or done more with your hands…” 

“You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Impossible! I’m simply stating that you can exhibit your skill in so many other ways.” 

It works. Law’s jaw clenches, a growl between his bared teeth. He throws himself back onto his haunches, leaving you bare and a little cold, until he grabs your ankle to pull you towards him. 

“Just humping,” he mutters. The last thing you see are his narrowed eyes, the challenge sizzling in them. In a single moment, he flips you onto your belly, the scratchiness of the bedroll far too pleasurable on your nipples than should be allowed. You plant your palms on the ground to hoist yourself up, but his hand pushes down on your spine. “Just humping,” he says again. 

“Just humping,” you say. Smugly you glance over your shoulder, just in time to see him rise to his knees. He pulls your hips up with him, tracing around the flesh of your buttocks with a growing smile. He meets your eyes in a brief, stunning moment. 

“You menace,” Law says. “You wanted this.” 

“A lady never tells.” Stretching out like a cat, you push yourself against him with a pretend yawn. His intake of breath is audible, the strangled noise like music to your ears. 

He can be in control all he wants, but it doesn’t change his weaknesses. And you happen to be acquainted with his weaknesses. Intimately. 

Law starts slow again, but picks up faster, holding onto you for the ride while the bedroll scrapes against your skin. With nothing to hold onto, you make fists instead, letting the pleasure drive everything else from your mind. All that matters is him and you and you and him, and how perfect he feels and how wonderful you feel and how much better everything is when he’s here…

It could have been an hour later, or three, dozing off naked and side-by-side beneath the sky while the embers burst like fireworks against the inky blackness. He lays on his back, you curled against him, his fingers tracing lazy patterns down your back. Sleep swarms, but you brush it away. 

It’s Fire Night, after all. 

“Our clothes are still at the river,” you mumble blearily. 

“Oops.” He doesn’t sound even a little repentant. 

“I don’t want to add more wood to the fire nude. What if I get burned?” 

Law sighs, then with a groan pushes himself to an elbow. Facing the glow of the oven, his features blur handsomely with a smile just for you. You smile back, tracing the line of facial hair down his chin. Fondly he pats your rear. 

“I’ll get the clothes,” he says. “But then you have to add the wood.” 

If he feels like he won, then that’s fine with you. Because this false competition only makes it easier to make excuses, easier to be sweet, and easier to pretend like it isn’t love.

#trafalgar d law x reader #one piece #law fanfiction #law x you #trafalgar d water law #Trafalgar law x reader

[fruitcoops]

Quicken

Fic O'Ween Day 10: Spellbound, for the Firefighter/ EMT AU! Read First Burn, Spark (rated E), and Kindling & Embers for previous installments! Coops 'n Cubs belong to @lumosinlove, fest header belongs to @noots-fic-fests <3

TW implied past smut, mentioned current medical emergencies

Keep me?

If you don’t want—

Keep me. Keep me.

I can do that.

Remus Lupin was the biggest idiot in the world. And also stupid. And utterly, hopelessly, unbelievably head over heels for the gorgeous lump of muscle and sweet smiles he had left, adorable and asleep, in a Midtown double-wide.

God, he was so fucking dumb.

You better not be on-call tomorrow morning, ‘cause you’re making me breakfast.

His mouth didn’t always run off on him, but when it did, it always did it with a bang. His bouncing knee rattled the broken edge of his seat and made the lady next to him shoot a dirty look across her phone. The subway hustled onward; Remus glanced at his watch and found that time had not, in fact, decided to run backward and that he was, in fact, officially late for his shift.

Shithell.

He wasn’t even given the mercy of an empty kitchenette to slink into after sprinting the three blocks from his stop to the station. “Good morning, sunshine,” Leo cooed with a smile wide enough to be frightening. He oozed the smug confidence of a man who had more than earned the purple smudge peeking out of his shirt collar.

Remus ground his back teeth against the blood rushing to his face and snatched a mug from the cupboards. The coffeemaker juddered a familiar rhythm. Id-i-ot. Id-i-iot. Id-i-ot.

“How was your night?”

“None of your business.”

“I covered your ass for the last—” Leo gave the wall clock an exaggerated look. “—twenty-seven minutes, my goodness. I think I deserve an explanation.”

A prim sip of tea made Remus’ eye twitch. “I overslept.”

“Exciting. You look sore. Sure you’re ambulatory?”

Remus managed to choke down a knee-jerk defense; something in Leo’s glittering eyes told him this situation would not be made better by a description of his rather athletic night. “Yes.”

“Nice hickeys. What is this, a frat house?”

His hand flew to his neck before his mind could catch up. The panic hit first, followed by a chaser of distilled regret. “God—fuck you!” he complained, shaking his hand out as if that would roll back an instant admission of guilt. Leo buried a grin in the rim of his mug and blew steam at him. Remus snatched the coffeemaker up and gave himself a heavyhanded pour. “It was a good night. I overslept. I’m here now.”

“Twenty-seven minutes.”

“…sorry.”

“No, no, this is worth it. Only your lucky-ass self would find the one call-free morning to oversleep.” Leo’s pager (a preference of the chief) gave a light buzz—saved by the bell. He downed his tea in one gulp, patting down his front pockets the way Remus had taught him during his first week. But then Leo paused with one hand on the wall separating the kitchen from the rest of the station. His chin jerked forward. “Nice shirt, by the way. Don’t think I’ve seen that one before.”

Remus looked down at himself and spit a mouthful of coffee straight into the sink.

--

Hey I’m so sorry.

Nope.

Good morning—

Certainly not.

Hey, I’m sorry, I’m stupid and forgot about my shift this morning even though I was on your case about the same thing, so sorry for saying you could keep me and then leaving you in bed. You were too cute to wake up. Also sorry for stealing your shirt.

Remus’ phone dimmed over the open ‘Messages’ app. Sirius’ Instagram bubble had been green on his last break. He let the screen go dark. Boisterous laughter spilled in from the other side of the station and his heart kicked. No, he thought firmly. Sirius’ team. Not Sirius.

Sirius, who probably woke up alone and cold and confused. Hours had come and gone. He definitely hated Remus’ guts by now.

Don’t fuck your coworkers. How many times had he drilled that sentiment into the heads of his rookies? How many times had Moody drilled it into him? Other stations were fair game, open season, free reign, but don’t fuck your coworkers, stupid. And definitely don’t fuck your coworkers stupid.

Remus’ face heated. He forced those thoughts out of his mind. Under his thumbnail, his phone case bent, and he shoved it into his pocket before it could distract him further. The mental highlight reel of Sirius coming apart under him (around him) was no excuse. He knew better. Sleeping with a coworker was a rookie mistake, but this…this was so much worse, because it was Sirius.

It had been so much better, because it was Sirius.

And he had thrown it away. All of it. Sirius would be right not to look at him after this. He’d be right not to want him.

No more thoughts of dark stubble, or spicy cologne, or the clench of thighs around his waist. No more lingering on Sirius’ wayward grins and soft hair through Remus’ fingers, or the steady way his breath puffed over Remus’ skin when he began to fall asleep. If he could just focus on inventory for twenty more minutes—

The siren slit his concentration down the middle.

“Fuck,” he muttered, checking off a last box of sterile gloves before jogging for the door. Leo was dozing in the window seat he had padded for himself a year back and jolted awake when Remus smacked the wall next to his head. “Go time, Knutty, lights and sirens!”

“All EMS personnel, report to rig 6—”

“Inventory?”

Remus grimaced. “Halfway.”

“Why can’t people ever have convenient emergencies?”

“Make sure to send the next flash flood my calendar availability, yeah?”

They took the corner tight, sneakers squeaking on the concrete. The rig crew was already set up for them—Remus loved it when people took advantage of a slow morning—and he snagged a set of keys off the wall hook with a glance at his pager, chucking them to Layla.

“Bravo on 3rd and Central!” he called to her. “You drive, Knutty and I have the back.”

“On it!”

Go, go, go. If there was one thing Remus loved about this job, it was the total inability to dwell. His keel found even water best when the waves were rolling up around them. Stagnancy was not an option. “D-1, Layla, talk me through!”

“Multiple victims!”

“D-4?”

Her expression flickered for just a second. “Explosion.”

“What’s the Bravo tell you?” Seatbelts, stretcher, respirator. The first ambulance was already out—it would be engines next, then their backup squad. He opened his mouth to speak and found Leo already packing burn ointment into the front compartments. “Nice, Nut. Layla! Bravo!”

“Sorry, uh—potentially life threatening, basic support!”

He knocked on the window between the cab and the rear, and passed a thumbs-up through the gap. “Three for three. Keep it up.”

“Remus!”

“Hi, yeah—”

Remus nearly choked on his own tongue. “Sorry, bad timing,” Sirius rushed out. He pressed close to the ambulance, which was the logical and spatially-aware thing to do in a bustling firehouse, but did absolutely nothing to quell the tsunami crashing through Remus’ insides.

“Hi,” Remus repeated, breathless in the surge. “I’m so sorry. I’m so dumb. Last night was—good, it was really good to—um—multiple burn victims, also sorry for stealing your shirt?”

“We can talk later, it’s okay.” Sirius was looking at him. It was strange. Not…not quite desire, but searching. For what, Remus didn’t know.

The engines roared to life. Sirens fractured his hearing.  Layla would have them up and running in the next fifteen seconds. “I’ll be right back!” Remus shouted over the noise, leaning out between the aluminum doors to be heard. “Probably! And—god, sorry I left, that was a dick move!”

“It’s fine!”

“Not really! I didn’t want to!”

Sirius barked a laugh. “I’m glad!”

A laugh simmered in his own chest, fighting to get out. He started to speak again (though to say what, he wasn’t sure) only to be silenced by a quick, chaste press of lips on his own. He sat hard on the cold bench behind him.

“Screaming people,” Sirius said. A grin dimpled his cheek. “Go get ‘em.”

The ambulance jerked forward; Remus kept his side of the doors open as long as he could, spellbound, just to see him stand there against the reds and golds of their shared home. The slam of aluminum and steel dragged him from his dazed reverie. He pressed back against the wall and blinked the stars out of his eyes.

On the opposite bench, Leo clucked his tongue. “So that’s where your shirt went.”

The laughter bubbled free, and it didn’t stop until Remus felt half-drowned from it.

#remus lupin #sirius black #leo knut #coops #sweater weather #coast to coast #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #firefighter/ emt au #fic o’ween 2023 #fluff

[ariadnethedragon]

HOFAS thoughts as I read it: (SPOILERS below)

All that t*rture in the dungeons, Ruhn’s piercing and tattoos. Baxian’s tattoo. The wings. “How strong is your bite?” Sarahhhhh!!!!! Stop! That was more than I could handle😫

The Middengard Wyrm😖. Nesta dealt with it brilliantly but it just makes you appreciate how impossible it was that human Feyre managed to kill this thing by herself with no decent weapons.

Azriel hugging Nesta and stroking her hair after she took the Mask off🥺

Bryce’s wallpaper being Hunt and the photo of her friends in the phone case—that made me tear up

Imagining the inner circle all surrounding Bryce’s phone trying to figure out how it works is hilarious. Also Nesta being jealous of Bryce’s music collection, “THOUSAND?”

The nightbright angst KILLED me💔💔💔

Hunt just dreaming of Bryce. She’s the only thing pulling him through, “He’d wanted so many things with her. A normal, happy life. Children.” HE BETTER GET EVERY SINGLE ONE IF THOSE THINGS OR HANDS WILL BE THROWN!

Silene. The Daglan. My theories were true😁😁

Sigrid. I had so much hope for her story but I was disappointed. Hopefully it’ll get better

Ariadne!! I wanted to see more of her😕

Ruhn’s bedroom. The burn cream😭😭😭

Lidia FUCKING Cervos. That breakout scene. Magnificent.

Jesiba and Ithan’s dynamic. Librarian Ithan and the fact that Jesiba is a Parthos priestess!!! Also JellyJubilee being the computer password😂

Bryce using the mating bond to teleport to Hunt😭😭😭

Bran and Ace. Lidia giving them her ruby ring for tuition as a goodbye💔

Hunt and Bryce got married?!!! WHEN?

Cloudberry crown sounds funny idk why

If I had a penny every time SJM included a set of unhinged/partly unhinged fae twins (yes connall I’m looking at you) in her series, I’d have three pennies bc it happens every single time

So the astronomer is basically a Voldemort 2.0

Flynn and dec going crazy for waffles on the mer ship

“I never had anyone fight for me” Oh Lidia my love😭😭

Guess I’m shipping Tharion and Sathia now🤷‍♀️

Lidia being turned on by Ruhn lighting a fire—girl, I get it.

“Because I’m yours, Day. I’m fucking yours.” Screaming crying throwing up

Lidia: “I want you all the time”😭😭😭😭😭😭😩😩😩😩💗💗💗

Idk why but I am disappointed in the Autumn King, I thought there would be some redemption for him for some reason

Ruhn: “I am going to live and I am going to live well without you”😭😭

Bryce was always a queen but now she a queen Queen👀

Avallen becoming all green again.

Hunt being a demonic test tube baby😂😂

Dec being the first to look for service. Typical😂

Ithan x Perry???? Cinnamon and strawberry? I start getting suspicious when they notice all the nuances of that person’s scent. I think they’d be cute though

Nooooo, the prime—I keep thinking of him as master oogway from king fu panda and it makes me sad

Sabines finally dead🥳🥳

Ithan is prime now? Okay okay pop offf!!

Hunt finally breaking free of his halo and freeing Isaiah as well❤️

Is the under king from the ToG universe??? Valg??

Connor💔💔💔😭😭😭 The bullet. Memento mori

Sathia and Colin McCarthy. This will be interesting

Commando Hunt. The underwear was too small🤭🫨🫨

Morven guest room having red lace thongs😂😂

Okay tharion and sathia are really growing on me🥰🥰🥰

‘She’s my mate you fucker’ SCREAAMMING

Ace finally calling Lidia Mom😭❤️

Lidia is the descendant of Brannon. The fire, the hind/sacred stag. OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!

Pollux being incinerated☺️☺️☺️

The sprites and Irithys💗

The kill switch, the godslayer rifle. Bryce just blackholing the Asteri. She is so brilliant and cunning and clever and I love her.

Danika and the pack. Light it up Bryce. I SOBBED

Jesiba crying and then her sacrifice😭😭😭💔💔

Ember and Randal going to Prythian. Randal bonding with Rhys but more importantly Ember and Nesta—I want to cryyyy🥹🥹🥹

Starsword/Gwydion back in Prythian…whats going to happen in ACOTAR 5???

The princes of Hel—you gotta love em

Lidia and Ruhn finally having that beer

Flynn x Perry? Jealous Ithan😏

Syrinx running for his life when Hunt and Bryce share a heated look. It’s nothing new but it cracks me up all the time

Pegasuses in Avallen🥰🥰

#crescent city #crescent city spoilers #hofas #hofas spoilers #cc hofas #house of flame and shadow #house of earth and blood #house of sky and breath #cc hoeab #hoeab #cc hosab #hosab #sarah j maas #sjmaas #sjm books #bryce quinlan #hunt athalar #ruhn danaan #lidia cervos #tristan flynn #declan emmet #ithan holstrom #danika fendyr #tharion ketos #nesta #nesta archeron #azriel #acotar