#because his smile only hides so much trauma

[lunarharp]

when an obsessed orufrey person plays ace attorney for the first time in a while

#witch hat tag #orufrey #you know those times when the defendant is still in shambles at the end of a case because it was not a clear-cut thing #but you get to present one Special Sentimental piece of evidence that proves not all is lost #qifrey's breakdown would be like... he turns up calm and pleasant like dahlia kristoph gant etc but very quickly: #well first he's hiding his scar so you have to use the bracelet and also you find out about the seal on his hat using that. #eventually he is throwing water that comes out of nowhere like that coffee prosecutor guy. and his cape starts billowing #the more he breaks down his neck thingies start coming undone btw. To represent his descent into guilt and his LIES becoming undone. #course as the player i have already used my magatama and seen his 35894 psychelocks. but theyre those BLACK psychelocks #representing his repressed memories taken by the brimhats. also his glasses shatter out of nowhere when you keep presenting evidence #and tartah's testimony etc. and the player is like UHH this guy is A PUPPET MASTER but coco's heartfelt testimony commands the tone #and of course he's someone who has been twisted and damaged by trauma like adrian andrews. the mastermind is of course the brimhats #only me with my magatama knows that... only i can do it. It has to be me..... #just like how as the reader i can see everything about qifrey and i can hold him dear as much as i judge him #whereas if i were oru things would not be ok unless memories can be restored and mentally ill decisions can be illuminated #WELL ANYWAY !!!!! what i appreciate about ace attorney is its ability to mix silliness with seriousness #i cant usually make jokes about serious heavy heartbreaking stuff in witch hat because it is all very intense emotions for me #but i appreciate ace attorney's mix of sincerity and psychological pain and the inherent silliness to being a character in a situation #so.....Get Iguin on the stand. Now. BAILIFF.. TAKE OFF THE MASK #i would most love to be able to prove qifrey's eyesight is failing. hed be like I have no reason to pursue the brimhats (smiles pleasantly) #and it would be like You're lowering your gaze.. proof that the court lighting is too harsh for you..! #his glasses would crack at that moment btw. I used apollo's bracelet and saw the glyphs on the glass. #I know all about u. and i will save u

[yesokayiknow]

they try, honestly they do, but the doctor isn't a stationary creature and never has been, especially not when they know there's something they could help with. which is to say, it takes a week of soft quiet life before he starts begging kate for a job. kate in turn withstands three weeks of the doctor's incessant begging and big puppy dog eyes while donna noble stands right behind him and mouths don't you fucking dare before she makes a counteroffer: he can work in a lab (the 'very far away from active duty' is implied) as long as he meets with unit's therapist.

and he refuses, of course, loudly and profusely, right up until donna very gently but very firmly tells him that it really could help, actually.

so. therapy. the doctor assumes it won't do anything. the unit therapist is no nonsense and unflinching and very very bright, and twenty minutes later the doctor sits outside the room hyperventilating while kate finishes paperwork and kindly doesn't mention the way he's all but curled into her.

the second session ends much like the first, and the third, and then the fourth he walks out with dry eyes and a tremulous smile. the fifth, kate calls donna and she takes him home and they drink hot chocolate and he doesn't start talking again until the next day. it takes him seven sessions to be able to stay in the room for the full hour; kate pats him on the back and then finally allows him to build a shield for her office as a reward. she sits outside the therapist's office every time he has a session, even though she has to have better things to do. they don't talk about it.

unit only has files on things the doctor's done on earth, and even then, only sometimes, which means that when the doctor talks about some things he just. edits, a little. talks about two weeks in a confession dial and a month in prison, because maybe then he doesn't have to think about the enormity of it all. and every single time he does this, the therapist looks at him and very kindly calls bullshit. it's weird, being known. it's different with donna. he is donna and donna is him, in ways they will probably never talk about. but he sits in that cluttered little office for an hour a week (sometimes two or three times, if he's doing particularly badly) and he feels seen.

after four months, there are memories he can touch without flinching, and people he can talk about without crying. he starts spending a couple of hours just sitting in the vortex, not because he's hiding or running but just because he likes the way it feels against his skin. he cooks dinner every other night and washes up when he doesn't. he takes out the bin every week even though it's rose's job, because he loves her. and he can say that now, and he doesn't think about her short lifespan or about all the other people they've loved and lost. he can say that and just mean it.

part of his contract is an agreement to never offer a trip to a member of unit unless it's actual life or death (the small chemical leak in the lab doesn't count; he takes shirley to new mars anyway) but he finds himself toying with the idea of asking for a session in the tardis. just once, just to see. the therapist looks at him and sees him and it is monstrous and they keep looking anyway and now the doctor can sit through a family dinner without wanting to tear his skin off and he doesn't know any other way to say thank you.

it's funny, almost, how quickly he grows attached to this person who picks through his hurts and rifles through his traumas and holds direct eye contact while doing so. the doctor talks about their deaths and their crimes and their cowardice and the therapist nods and asks him how he feels and it's. it's terrifying. it's beautiful. it's the worst thing he's ever ever been through, and the best. he feels ripped apart and put back together in a way that few people have ever been able to— huh.

after his sixty eighth session (he's unable to not keep count) the doctor walks outside to where kate is annotating a schematic and says, thoughtfully, they're the master in disguise, aren't they. and kate says oh 100% and please don't let them know that you know because they will definitely go to the second stage of whatever long con they've been hatching and they're too good at this for us to let them go

#doctor who #doctor who spoilers #does this count as fic. i mean it's long enough ain't it #the doctor #fourteen #you can decide which one it is exactly tbh #my fanfic

[supernovasilence]

Ok we all talk about the Pevensies' trauma at returning to Earth at the end of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and their trouble readjusting to life there again but think of all the funny/good parts too

They return from the country, and their mom is surprised when all her children hug her at the station. Even Peter, who thinks he's all grown up. Even Edmund, who went away surly and withdrawn. She doesn't know her children haven't seen her in over a decade.

They miss their dear Cair Paravel, but they absolutely do not miss its chamber pots. Indoor plumbing is amazing.

It takes a while to remember how modern technology works, though. How many heart attacks did the siblings give their parents or the professor because they walked into a dark room only to turn on the light and find the children sitting there in the dark. (They were by the window! There was still plenty of light from the sunset! They would have gotten a candle in a minute!) The kids sheepishly remember oh yeah electricity is a thing.

(Edmund has a new electric torch in Prince Caspian. He was so excited to get that torch. Almost more excited than you'd think a kid his age would be, and his parents expect Peter at least to tease him, but the siblings all agree light in your hand at the touch of a switch is terrific.)

Suddenly getting really high grades in some subjects and terrible in others. Their grammar, reading comprehension, spelling, vocab, even penmanship? Amazing. History and geography? They don't remember anything. One time in class Susan forgets Earth is round and wants to die.

Also they can never remember what the date is supposed to be because Narnia uses different months and years. They can estimate time really well by looking at the sun though, and Edmund at least can always tell which way is north etc without thinking about it (again, using the sun)

Okay but how many times did they go to pick something up or reach something and realize they are so much shorter and less muscled than they expect? It's a common sight to see Peter climbing on counters to reach a top cabinet, grumbling about how he's High King this is demeaning. (No he never takes the extra five seconds to grab a stool. He will climb that shelf.)

Peter and Susan being delighted because they are no longer almost thirty. (In a few years Edmund and Lucy will tease them about being old and their parents will not understand.)

Lucy doesn't have to deal with periods anymore for a few years yet. Susan might not either. Heck yeah

Lucy loves to climb into her siblings' laps and be cuddled. In Narnia she eventually she grew too big, but now she is small and snuggleable again. Peter is her favorite, and if she's upset, he'll tickle her and tell bad jokes until she's smiling again, but really she loves cuddling with all her family. She grew up without her parents; how many times did she just want to crawl into her mom's lap and her mom was a world away? Imagine the first time she realizes she can now. Or, imagine one day, a cold and grey sort of day, when the rain is pattering against the windows, and it sounds like the rain on the windows of the Professor's house, that first day they went exploring. It sounds like the day they played hide and seek. It sounds so like the rain on the windows of Cair Paravel, that if Lucy closes her eyes she can imagine she's back there, having tea and chatting with Mr. Tumnus before the fireplace of her room, and soon the rain will stop, and they will go out on the balcony and wave to the naiads and the dryads and the mermaids, who have come out to enjoy the rain and visit one other on the banks of the Great River winding past Cair Paravel down to the sea.

But if Lucy looks out the window, all she'll see is the rain over London, so it's not only a cold and grey sort of day, it's a lonely sort of day too.

Susan and Edmund are playing chess in the living room (and they must have studied with Professor Kirke, thinks their mother, because they certainly weren't that good when they left). Lucy goes over to Edmund, and oh dear, thinks their mother, now he's going to call her a baby and be horrible to her, but instead he picks her up and puts her on his lap without even taking his eyes off the chessboard; it's simply a matter of course.

"Doesn't the rain sound familiar?" says Lucy in a solemn, wistful way.

Their mother doesn't know what that means, but her siblings must, because Susan says, "Yes, Lu, it does,” and Edmund gives her a little hug with his free arm as she tucks herself under his chin to watch the chess match.

(Five minutes later there is a crash from the next room as Peter falls off a counter. Their mother does not understand the words he must have picked up from the Professor, but he's grounded for them anyway. His siblings have no respect for their High King, because they refuse to stop laughing.)

#the chronicles of narnia #narnia headcanons #peter pevensie #susan pevensie #edmund pevensie #lucy pevensie #helen pevensie #the pevensies #okay this did end up a little bittersweet at the end but I tried #let's all just focus on the high king falling off counters alright #and yes the siblings all picked up narnian swear words and i refuse to believe otherwise #i'm also suddenly wondering how much language drift there is in narnia #when the pevensies return in prince caspian are all the swear words/exclamations they learned outdated? #are they using the narnian equivalent of oh horsefeathers? #nova actually posts stuff #long post // #the higher the queuer #post lww pevensies #soft post lww headcanons

[makoodles]

I would give anything to know Ghost’s inner monologue during any part of the last fic you posted. Is he purposefully getting into her space at the beginning (because we all know Ghost is too aware of his body and his trauma to accidentally touch anyone, let along have his entire side against them)? When he walks in does he just blue-screen, is that why he doesn’t immediately leave? What is he thinking when he sees our wet cunt still stuffed? When he finds out no one has touched us that way, or made us cum? When we want him to fuck us so badly we beg him to do it raw? Does his heart break a little when he heard us say we thought he left us, while we were so vulnerable and still dirty? Is he also freaking out about the fraternization stuff, or has he decided that we are his in the same way that he is ours, and Price will just have to cover up another damn thing for his team?

yes to all of this

(a little drabble part 2 to this)

Ghost has a little habit, when you're concerned. He's usually hyper-aware of his body and his limbs and where he's touching, what's around and beside and behind him. His skin itches sometimes when he's touched without warning, though he always hides his reactions. But with you... he's not so careful. He lets his legs spread, his arms stretch, lets himself crowd into your space. There's something intoxicating about the way that you let him, the way you never lean away from him. You're just so soft, so warm, always letting him infringe on your space with a sweet little smile as though you're happy to see him. You're one of the rare people who are happy to see him, and it makes something uncomfortably warm wriggle in his belly.

So yeah, he leans into you when he sits next you in the rec room. It's mostly muscle memory, because you've never minded before. But today, you're a little tense. Ghost knows you, knows you well. He can see the way your spine is a little stiff, the way your eyes are a little glassy as you stare off into the distance. You look a little... ruffled. Ghost watches you carefully out of the corner of his eye, probes a little, but backs off when you dance around his question. He's knows boundaries well, and he won't push yours. Even if he thinks it's... strange that you leave so quickly, eyes averted.

Finding your phone wedged into the seat after you left was like an opportunity. Simon Riley has never had much, he's always made do, and yet he's admittedly greedy when it comes to you. He's not often a selfish man - he's never had enough to be selfish about - and yet he's hungry for your time, your smiles, your touch. And you're always so generous with yourself, so he doesn't second-guess his decision to follow you down the hall to your quarters. He's never been there before, and he wants to see your space, hungry for any shred of you he can get.

He should have knocked. It was rude not to. But he's so, so fucking glad he didn't.

He's a little rough when he opens your door, a little too eager to get into the room and see your pretty grateful smile when he gives you your phone back. But when he gets that door open, sees the sight of you on your back among your sheets, legs spread, head back, eyes fluttered closed, his mind goes fucking blank.

He watches you scramble, watches the mortification flash across your face as you attempt to shut your adorable little pink vibrator off as you shut your legs, depriving him of the prettiest view he's ever seen. Ghost is not a man with a weakness for pretty things, but it seems only natural that you're the exception, you and your pretty wet puffy pussy.

He hardly even knows what happens, his fingers and toes numb and his attention narrowed down to you, only you. Before he knows it, he's sitting on your bed, feeling enormous and ungainly next to you as you stare up at him. He reaches out, his big hands scarred and ugly against your pretty skin when he holds your vibrator, his blood buzzing at the thought that this had been inside you mere moments ago.

He never thought he'd be envious of a piece of fucking plastic, but here he is. A big man, a deadly soldier, reduced to a fool at your bedside. And yet, you don't even seem to notice. You're so good, so sweet, parting your legs when he asks you to and letting him look.

He asks you to finish. It's bold, and stupid, and greedy. He wants to see you come - he already knows it'll be the prettiest thing he's ever seen, that it'll be seared in his mind forever. In this moment, he thinks he'd do anything just to watch your eyes roll back, your face go slack, to hear the pretty little noises he knows you'll make.

It escalates faster than he could have imagined. Such a sweet thing, laying back and showing him how you use your vibrator. And he watches eagerly, his breath catching at the realisation that this is how you play with yourself when you're alone. You're clumsy about it, which is absolutely adorable.

But then you make a confession, and Ghost thinks he might be spiralling. You've never been touched, never been fucked, never come. It feels like an outrage. He thinks of how tense you'd been earlier, shifting beside him in your blue jeans, and he just thinks... what the fuck? Prettiest girl he's ever seen, and you don't even know how to touch your own cunt properly? He wants to show you, more than anything he's ever wanted before. Greedy. You make him so greedy.

"Let me try."

He's between your legs before he even knows how he got there, pulling your stupid little vibrator out so he can replace it with his fingers. And if he thought he was greedy, he soon finds that he's well-matched when it comes to you. You're just as eager, just as hungry. Spreading your legs and whimpering, all those sweet, sweet noises that spill out of your mouth, just like he knew they would.

You have the prettiest cunt he's ever seen. Pretty, slick, swollen, just as hungry as the rest of you. He alternates between his fingers and his mouth and your little dildo, a little drunk on your taste and your soft thighs when they squeeze around his head. He kisses you too, because he can't help himself. Greedy.

He's never been a chatty man, but his cock is so hard now and he knows his mouth is running. He can't help himself. Your salty-sweet slick on his tongue has loosened it; he barely even knows what he's saying, or what he's promising, but by god he's going to live up to it.

Then, your lovely sweet voice, all breathless and pitchy, asking “Can I try yours?”

Not only that, you beg. You plead with him to fuck you, to do it raw, as if he was ever going to say no. As if he'd ever be strong enough to say no. He can hardly handle hearing you beg like that; he feels as though he's going to blow before he even gets his cock inside you.

In his wildest dreams, he never imagined you so needy. You writhe, you're soaked, you make the most heart-stopping little noises deep in your throat when he presses inside. You're so hot and wet and tight that it feels as though you're about to squeeze his cock right off, and he tries so hard to feed it to you slow, to give you time to take him. You're so good, taking him even though you struggle a little. He's not a small man, certainly not an easy man to take inside of you for your very first time, but it's a testament to how slick and eager you are that he slides in with minimal effort.

After that, he loses himself. Hardly even knows what's he's doing, working based on pure instinct, filling and fucking you until he's losing his breath. God, you're beautiful, and he clenches his jaw hard to bite back his orgasm - he has to focus on you, only you while the tears are streaming down your pretty face as you gasp and cry for him.

He can see your orgasm creeping up on you before you recognise it yourself. When it hits you, it's a whole body event. Your back arches, legs spasm, stomach trembles, eyes roll back. Your cunt clenches down so fucking tight that it's a little bit painful. Simon doesn't dare blink - he's never going to fucking forget this. Your very first orgasm, and you're experiencing it on the end of his cock.

He loses it a little after that, his thoughts fizzing and slipping from his grasp as he loses his coordination. By the time he comes inside of you, cock throbbing and skin tightening, he's already decided that he's going to have to make you come again. Once isn't enough, not for someone as hungry as him. Or you.

He thinks he might have fucked you stupid. Your eyelids are fluttering and your lips are parted, but you're a little bit dead to the world. It's cute. He feels his pride swell, smug at the thought that he's fucked you so good that he's sent you reeling off into dreamworld.

He leaves, only for a moment, unable to be away from you for too long. He just wants to get a cloth, something to wipe you off with to make you all clean and fresh again. You're already awake when he comes back, though you're still hazy and clumsy and all teary-eyed.

He's happy to wipe you clean, despite your quiet mewling complaints, and then he hauls himself into your bed just so he can curve his big-ass body around your smaller one, relishing your sweet softness. God, he's wanted to hold you like this forever, but he's still a little nervous about hurting you. Killing and maiming and hurting have been the only things he's been really good at his whole life, and he's irrationally fearful of moving wrong and hurting you, even after the sex. Or maybe especially after the sex.

He can see your brow crease, the uncertainty in your eyes. He realises you're probably a little uncertain about where you stand with him, or what this is. That's fair. Simon has never been the most demonstrative man, but he's also been the type to cling on like a tick to the things he values, the things he wants to keep safe. He holds you, checking his strength, proud to be able to keep you safe in his arms.

He's going to make sure that you don't worry about it either. Your hair smells sweet, your skin is so warm, and your ass is so soft where it's pressed against his crotch. He's reaching for you before he can think about it, and his heart pulses hard when you spread your legs for him so easily. God, he's gonna ruin you. Just like he promised.

#asks #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod smut #drabble

[primofate]

You, Wriothesley's therapist.

TW: mentions of murder, depression, trauma

Sigewinne takes care of the physical injuries in the Fortress...but that place must have a lot of mental instabilities, trauma, depressive states as well, right?

Enter you who is hired by the Iudex to take frequent visits to the fortress and check on a list of people's well-beings.

The Iudex hired you, not the duke, though it WAS the duke's idea, he didn't think he was fit to choose and hire a "therapist", Neuvillette was probably more adept at that.

On the first day of your job, the list or people to check on is rather extensive and you talk and meet with a lot of new people just on the first day.

That guy who killed his best friend and is haunted by dreams of the scene.

That young lady who has spiralled into depression because she's separated from and unable to see her daughter.

That old man who has anger issues because he just didn't think he had done anything wrong.

It was probably a week or two after you were appointed that you finally met the person in charge of the place. The Duke, as they call him.

He seemed like a pretty strict guy, but when he thanked you for looking after the people here, you thought he wasn't that bad.

"I'm just doing my job,"

"A really hard one at that," he comments.

The next time you see him is months after, but this time he only passes you a glance, and rather quickly strides off to his office.

The next day, he seeks you out and apologizes for it.

"I was...in a bit of a rush,"

You wonder why he even apologizes. "...It's no big deal,"

"...I hope that you know that you're welcome here. I don't think you quite understand how difficult your job is, trying to shoulder everyone's past and fixing their psyche for their future,"

You look up at him, and tilt your head a little, squinting your eyes and trying to get a good read out of him...then it hits you.

The Duke needs therapy too.

"...I think you're a little stressed, your grace. Is there a quiet place where we can comfortably chat in?"

How were you to know it was going to end up in tea time? Yes the duke had issues, some deep seated ones, but not as much as the common folk that you were trying to work with. And yet you found yourself having tea with him even though it wasn't "work" related anymore.

All the two of you talked about were stories of the past, and shared a laugh or two about some silly or outrageous story he or you shared.

Weeks later there came a time when the angry old man you'd been working on had an outburst. He didn't mean to. None of your patients ever mean to, not when they had such big emotions, such big events to get over, such pent up emotions and such deep, deep regrets.

Old man had thrown a wrench at you, he was surprisingly strong, probably from working in the fortress for a while. You were caught off guard, not to mention you weren't even sitting too far away from him. You managed to shield yourself from it, but your arm bruised hours later.

You didn't think it merited a visit to Sigewinne, besides it was nearly home time for you.

"Done for the day?" You bristled a little at the sudden voice of the Duke, not expecting to see anymore of him today.

"Mmhmm," you simply answered his grin. You also didn't think it was something to hide from him. So your bruised arm was there for him to see in plain sight.

His grin disappearing and his eyes narrowing at the sight alerted you that it was perhaps something that you should've kept from him. "Where'd you get that?" He was 1000% sure you didn't have it when you had tea with him at noontime today.

"This...Well...Corrin was...having a particularly bad day," you moved your arm behind your back with a small smile, wanting to brush it off, but Wriothesley puts his hand out in expectation.

"Let me see it,"

For a moment the two of you just stare each other down. You wondering what the big deal was, him not backing down. When you didn't move an inch he gives in and adds the magic word. "Let me see it, please,"

You lift your arm up towards his head with a sigh and he receives it shockingly gently. He inspects it like it's some kind of puzzle he needs to solve, thorough and detailed. "Did you let Sigewinne see?" before you could even reply he adds "How did this even happen? Why was I not told?"

"It's..." You start. How do you explain? That you were supposed to be your patients' safe space. That nothing is supposed to harm them when in a session with you, that everything was in confidentiality. Working with troubled people, things like this were bound to happen, and it was only the first time.

He catches on to it quite quickly. "...It's your job," he finishes for you.

"...Precisely,"

The big sigh he lets out at the same time as releasing your arm has you wondering, really, why he seemed so stressed all over again. Over you.

Did you really not know the reason? You had an inkling why, you were a therapist after all. You got into people's minds for a living and Wriothesley wasn't exactly being subtle, but... you didn't want to assume.

"...How about I come with you next time?" he offers. You smile a little. "I don't think Corrin would be comfortable enough to talk with you hovering around,"

He grumbles something under his breath, like a defeated, stubborn puppy. "He doesn't have to know... I'll stand outside, or something,"

You laugh a little. "...The Iudex already has terms on my working contract when things like this happen. I'm supposed to drop the patient if "physical disputes" happen a total of three times and after three warnings are given."

Wriothesley huffs, though it sounds more like a scoff. "Leave it to him to think of everything. Doesn't seem fair," he moves so that he stands next to you, and places a hand on your upper back, pushing you the slightest bit to walk with him. You notice he's steering you towards the Fortress' infirmary.

"What doesn't seem fair?" You ask with genuine curiosity, not knowing what he was implying.

He's silent only for a beat more, but he doesn't look at you as he answers, only continues walking forward. "That he gets to protect you and I don't,"

You can't mistake the somersault your heart makes, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling silly.

The Duke needs the occasional therapy.

Or maybe he just needs you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #genshin impact wriothesley

[vampiresfromxenon]

I Wanted To

Astarion x gn! Reader/Tav

Almost 3.5k words 

Tags: Fluff, kisses, cuddling, angst, biting mention, no use of y/n, words of affection (so much sappiness), soft! Astarion, they’re in love your honor!! 

CW: Slight mentions of SA and trauma (extremely minor, incredibly light piece)

Summary: You and Astarion decide to start your relationship over once you both confess your feelings. It's a mutual decision to take things extremely slow, celebrating little victories of intimacy here and there. Tonight, you can't hide your words of affection as he becomes more comfortable and vulnerable around you.

~

It’s been a few months traveling with this rowdy crew, and you can’t help but smile thinking about how much you love them all. Granted, they all piss you off on the daily, what from Shadowheart and Lae’zel attempting to kill each other, to Gale eating your favorite pair of enchanted gloves, but you can’t help yourself from smiling every time you think about how close you’ve all grown. One particular member in the party you have become very close with stands out a bit more than the rest, and thoughts about him are enough to make you unsettlingly giddy. 

For the longest time, you and the pale elf fought your feelings, too cold to warm up to each other. You both had a wicked past, something that tainted your current perceptions of love and romance. His may have been far more extreme than yours, but regardless of that fact, your feelings and emotions were still valid. For a short few weeks, you found yourselves being extra intimate, dismissing it all as stress relief and nothing more. Those little excursions were merely there as a form of self protection: He gained your trust and protection, and you felt less alone and vulnerable at night. Or, so you thought, until you noticed how distant he was, his eyes never meeting yours every time he sought to pleasure you. 

It wasn’t until recently that these barriers slowly began to be chipped away for the both of you, your infatuation not only becoming more real, but unfortunately, more terrifying. One night, you approached him, being brave and understanding if he had other thoughts about what you two could be. It was late, most of the camp either asleep or preparing for bed. You approached him, a soft hand on his shoulder, even though he was well aware you were there. What you were there for though, remained a mystery to him. He turned, smiling at you, taking your hand and kissing it affectionately. As your heart raced, you began a discussion with him, asking his thoughts and feelings about your ‘connection’ rather than just bombarding him with an overwhelming confession of love. 

He seemed stunned to say the least, unsure of what to say or how to feel. It was strange for him, his cold heart beating a little faster, feeling a little warmer at the sight of you in front of him, actually seeing him for him and not just another plaything. All these feelings were bubbling up inside him because, for the first time in a long time, someone not only asked him what he wanted in a romantic relationship, but they respected anything he said on that subject matter. In all his nervousness, he felt that he could be honest in his reciprocation to see how far you two could go, this time with real feelings. That was a few weeks ago, and all this time since has been magical. 

You haven’t intimately slept together since just before that night, instead establishing boundaries and focusing more on the non-sexual ways to be intimate, loving, and kind. He loves the way your hand brushes his, the way your fingers interlace with his as he moves in to hold your hand. You love the way his hand lands on your back, stretching to your hip to pull you closer to him, especially when meeting new people from town to town. While you still struggle with eye-contact in general, it feels easier around him, especially now since he has found himself to be more comfortable actually looking at you, taking in your appearance and being more present in your conversations. 

For many nights now, you’ve been cuddled up nicely in one or the other’s tent, fingers interlaced, hands gently wrapped around hips, legs occasionally intertwined. He still continues to feed on you, though he makes sure to gain your permission before bed each night. On the nights where you felt too tired, too drained mentally even, he would leave you be, hoping to keep you as comfortable as possible. Those nights were just as romantic, as you could feel his breath against your neck as he cuddles you tightly, his lips on your shoulder as he falls into the soft rhythm of sleep. 

Tonight didn’t start off any differently from any other night; you both gathered in his tent, doing your nightly routines as per usual (always before promptly passing out until the next morning hit you like a boulder). Most nights he would wear a nice, silky pajama set, one he purchased from an unreasonably expensive fashion designer in a small village. You didn’t have as luxurious of pajamas, but yours still covered most of your body, keeping you feeling safe and snuggled up each night.

Neither of you expected that this night would change everything.

He’s standing off to the side of your shared bedroll, changing into his pajamas while your back is turned to him, fiddling with the blanket you both share. You notice just how used this blanket is, and you realize that it might have been the only thing giving him comfort, the feeling of security over the past 200 or so years. Astarion was far from one to share, whether it was his feelings or his belongings, and it isn’t long before you have a second realization: you are possibly the only person to have ever slept with that blanket besides him. Your fingers gently roll the decaying fabric between your fingers, taking in all of his memories that have been exhausted on the threads. 

You hear him walking over and you drop your thoughts about the blanket, not wanting to pry into more of his distressing past. He kneels, picking up the blanket and sliding next to you, your bodies touching in an instant. Turning your attention away from the blanket, you look up to see your love is shirtless, moving around in the bedroll, trying to be more comfortable at your side. 

You know just how insecure he is about his scars from Cazador, that disgusting, vile, treacherous bitch, but it was so lovely to see him stepping out of his comfort zone. While you’re quick to notice this new change, he’s even quicker to notice your reaction. Diving back into his comfort charm, he smirks at you, loading a phrase to protect his vulnerable side.

“Like what you see, darling?” His eyes flutter to the side a bit, and you immediately notice his withdrawal from the conversation. With a calm and gentle hand, you caress his cheek, turning his attention back to you. 

“I always love what I see…” You smile, your eyes looking at him in such a way that your face beams with pride, though you try to find a balance between that and neutral so as to not overwhelm him. To see just how much he trusts you, is willing to open up to you and be vulnerable… Your heart can barely take it. In a quiet voice you’re sure to check in on him, wanting to make sure he feels secure in his choice. “Don’t feel you have to do this for me though, okay?” 

His hand reaches up to hold yours against his cold cheek, his stare suddenly becoming more present. “I wanted to.” His voice is low, his hand taking yours off his face as he leans in gently to kiss your palm. He kisses your forehead before moving to lie down, making himself comfortable in your small space. 

You sit there for a moment, considering your options. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable, but you want him to be aware that you feel the same sense of shared comfort. As he turns to the side, looking at a book he left on the ground earlier, you move to remove your shirt, tossing it off to the side. He moves the book away from you both so you don’t roll into it in the night. Turning back to face you, he pauses, taking in the sight of your bare chest. He looks up at you, tilting his head, nearly asking you the same question you just asked him.

Before he can say anything, you lean slightly closer to him, your voice a loud whisper. “I wanted to.” His eyes soften, and you can tell he’s flattered by this display of intimacy. You begin to crawl under the old blanket with him, and he pulls you close, his hand around your waist. The feel of his cold, soft skin against your bare back is enough to send shivers down your spine, and you realize that this must be so close to what heaven feels like. His free hand reaches up and caresses your jaw before tangling in your hair, gently playing with it as he knows it helps you fall asleep. 

Your hand rests on his bare chest, feeling the rhythm of his heartbeat slowing down as he continues to relax in your care. You lie there for a while, trying to sleep, but something is keeping you awake. Perhaps it’s the looming threat that you could all die soon in brutally vicious ways, or the fact that you don’t want to waste a single second enjoying this time with your new lover. Suppose you’ll never truly know. 

Regardless of what is keeping you up on this night, you begin to feel a little restless, unable to lie there in that position for too much longer without your arms going numb. You sit up a little, leaning on the arm you’ve been lying on, trying to not wake your companion. However, his body shifts with you, and it appears that he is still just as awake as you are.

 “I didn't wake you, did I?” You whisper in a worried voice. 

“Not in the slightest, my dear. Unable to sleep tonight, as I am sure you understand.”

You sigh, still leaning over him slightly, his hand that was once on your waist now drawing circles on your shoulder blade, the hand in your hair now resting on your hip. You want to speak, but you find yourself getting lost in the way his face looks in the moonlight peeking through his tent flap. It frames his face so perfectly, almost as if this scene was sculpted by the Gods. He notices your sudden distance, and he is quick to check in on you. 

“Are you alright, love?” He asks, a tinge of concern in his voice, once again tilting his head like a confused puppy. 

“Sorry… Yes, yes. More than alright.” You reassure him, not breaking your focus. A beat; he attempts to determine what’s on your mind. Thinking he’s found it, he smirks. 

“Admiring how beautiful I am?”

“Yeah… Just looking at creases around your eyes…” You say in a loving tone, not even remotely aware of how backhanded the comment you just made sounds. 

He begins to shuffle, pushing you away, offended by your lack of sincerity. “Alright, there’s no need-” 

“No! Not like that.” You chuckle, snapping back into reality. You grab him, pulling him back to you, his head pressing back into the pillow below you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” You can’t stop yourself from laughing a little at the sight of your pouting partner underneath you. 

You notice just how unamused he is, and you abruptly stop laughing, clearing your throat and composing yourself in a more serious manner. Your hand reaches up and the pad of your thumb brushes against his crows feet, your mind falling back into your feelings of love and adoration for him. 

“The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh… The way your eyes sharpen when you’re glaring at me, like you are right now… The way they soften every time I walk in the room… I love those wrinkles, they’re such a beautiful part of you.” He relaxes again, taking in your words, though still unhappy at your mention of his wrinkles, making him feel old. Though, no matter how much he hates his aging characteristics being brought up, he will never turn away any form of flattery. 

“Well, augh. You really are sweet, aren’t you? But I’m sure you like more of me than just my dreaded wrinkles.” He was definitely fishing for compliments, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t aware of just how much you wanted to smother him in loving words. You lean forward and kiss his crows feet on both sides, surprising him. Smiling, your thumb traces over his eyebrows, taking in their shape and feel. 

“My eyebrows, really? Nothing else catching your eye?” He whines, his hands going back to resting on your shoulder blade and hip. He can feel your body shake as you laugh, your head falling forward towards his chest as you continue to giggle from his pouting. You bring your head back up, focusing on his face once more. 

“One thing at a time, dearest.” You pause, analyzing the shape of his eyebrows. Just how sharp they are, how often he uses them to his advantage when he is charming people. As you continue to gaze at them, he raises one of them, making your heart go crazy. 

“You’re so expressive. Your eyebrows are so perfectly shaped, the way you use them like a weapon… I know it’s silly, I know they’re just eyebrows, but they’re your eyebrows, and they mean so much to me.” You trail off, your face flushed with embarrassment as you realize just how overly sentimental your words are. He smiles at you, knowing just how hard you’re trying, and appreciating every second of it. You kiss his eyebrows before quickly moving on.

Your fingers trace along his face, noticing his mole. By now he’s exhausted, you’re three for three with things he’s sensitive about. “Darling, if this is your way of making me feel less upset about not being able to look in mirrors, I must say it’s starting to work.” His words deceive his face and body language, but you still try to abide by his wishes. 

Wanting to show your love, without spending too much time on it, you mention how much the mole under his eye suits him, how he would almost seem incomplete without a beauty spot. The usage of ‘beauty’ in ‘beauty spot’ convinced him to let it slide, but the ice you were dreamily skating on was wearing thin. Kissing his mole, you move on once again. 

The skin of his nose was soft as you trace the pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose. “Your nose… it’s so sharp. Don’t laugh, but one of my favorite feelings is when I wake up and your nose is either on my back or my neck. I can feel your breathing on my skin, your nose pressed against me while you sleep. It’s so calming, having any little part of you so close to me.” He looks at you a little confused, mostly due to the fact that you’re still here appreciating him. The things you’re saying, they’re so small and insignificant, yet you enunciate each word like it’s the most important thing you’ll ever say. Each word has a purpose, a meaning, and they fall out of your mouth effortlessly; something he still has yet to learn how to do. 

You kiss the tip of his nose, your fingers tracing down his face to his smile lines. Oh his smile lines. You just can’t help but adore his smile lines, no matter how much he absolutely hates them. He hates them because they age him, but you love them for all the same reason. To know he laughs, smiles, has any semblance of being happy is enough for you to be overjoyed at the sight of these lines that prove the existence that he has been able to enjoy life enough to have physical proof on his face.

“Don’t you dare.” He teases, though you wish he could bear with you for just a moment to explain your thoughts. Figuring you could do it another time, as tonight has already had enough excitement, you kiss his smile lines and spare him from your honeyed words. 

Last, but certainly not least: his lips. Your thumb traces over his lips which are closed together, gently pushing up just enough to where you wonder if he was trying to secretly kiss your thumb. As you continue to run your thumb over his lips, reminiscing on all the times your own experienced his, he takes you by surprise. 

Removing the hand from your hip, his thumb graces your lips, and you find yourself trying to inconspicuously kiss at it like he did to you just moments ago. You open your mouth to speak, but he uses his finger to silence you, gently shushing you. 

“My turn.” His voice is smooth and tender as his thumb continues to trace over your slightly parted lips. “Your lips… They have always been so soft and inviting.” He pauses, still staring at them.

“I must admit, I despised them at first.” A confused expression crosses your face just before he continues. “They would taunt me on a daily basis, the one thing I couldn’t have no matter how much charm I threw at you. When I was eventually graced with them, I loathed the way my name would be cried out from them, almost as if you were saying it like a prayer. It tore me apart, wanting something I wasn’t sure I actually wanted, or even felt like I deserved…” He trails off, though his gaze remains constant on you.

“How do they make you feel now?” You softly ask, just barely loud enough for even yourself to hear.

He thinks on this for a moment, searching for the proper word.

“Safe.” 

He leans up to you, cupping your cheek as he kisses you, the most delicate and loving kiss you two have ever shared. You both pull from the kiss, exercising restraint and respect for your pre-established boundaries. A hand resting on his chest, you encourage him to lie back on the pillow once more, which he does. You lean forward, kissing every part of his face that you mentioned, as well as a few spots just because you wanted to. Kissing his lips again, you pull apart just enough to whisper against his lips. 

“I admire everything about you. Every aspect of you is just so lovely… Thank you for being here, with me. I don’t ever want to leave your side.”

He smiles, his fangs poking out this time. His hand moves a strand of hair out of your face as he clears his throat. 

“And thank you for all the kisses.” He says, resuming his usual charm. You try to hide your slight disappointment, but you know he is trying his best and you can’t expect him to always meet you halfway, especially in this time of healing. 

“Always.” You whisper, lying down next to him as he wraps his arms around you, holding you closely. It’s late, and now that you have this feeling lifted off your chest, you find it easier to sleep. Your heart rate begins to slow, your breathing finding its usual pattern, your lover wrapped up tightly with you. 

When you’re on the edge of falling asleep, you feel his head tilting down towards yours, which is resting on his chest. His lips kiss the top of your head, his chin then resting on that same spot. A quiet voice breaks the air, unaware that it still has an audience.

“I love you.”

You freeze, unsure of whether or not you have actually fallen into a dream state, or if you just heard him correctly. In this state of grogginess, your body shifts as you attempt to determine the truth.

“Shit. Did you hear that?”

“Mhm.” You sleepily groan. He lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he’s talking to you in your sleep like he has before. Settling further into the bedroll, making himself more comfortable, he pulls you tighter, finally deciding to rest. 

“I love you too.” You break the silence, your voice more awake this time. His eyes flash open, his red irises laser focused on you. You can feel his heart pounding as you rest on his chest, and you lean over and kiss just above his heart.

“Safe.” Is all you can say before promptly passing out, your warm skin slowly heating up his own. He sits there for another moment, taking in the events of today. It was a lot, to say the least, but he felt comfortable and confident in his decisions, and that was almost truly a first for him. His hand finds its way back into your hair, stroking it as he begins to drift off to sleep, for the first time in a long time feeling comfortable, guarded, protected, safe. 

~

Author’s Note:

He’s extremely OOC, I’m 95% sure lmao but I love making characters total softies, even if we don’t see that side of them in the media they’re from. (I'm still in the very beginning of Act 2 so I'm learning a lot about him through this site too)

I’ve never experienced love, I’m also sure that’s obvious- I’ve always wanted to do something like this with someone though (look at their face and kiss all my favorite spots). While I was writing this, I felt so awkward writing such sappy dialogue, but I realized that moments like these aren’t smooth and rehearsed; feelings get mushy and oftentimes people say dumb and dorky things because they’re just so in love. I hope it gets translated that way at least hahaha

My Spotify is fucked because I listen to specific songs on repeat whenever I write. I have probably about 4-5 hours of “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday logged on there now because of all the time planning, writing, and thinking about this fic- I got this song from Neil’s Astarion playlist, it’s so sweet and loving :) 

Edit: So many people are saying he’s actually pretty in character so thank you for the validation because I was nervous 😭

#astarion #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion fic #astarion x tav #gn!tav #bg3 tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #soft astarion #astarion fluff #they're in love your honor #fluff fic #tooth rotting fluff #they're so sappy #i also wanted an excuse to call Cazador a bitch #and i love making jokes about Gale eating enchanted clothes even though he doesn't need to in my run anymore #no y/n #i hate y/n sorry

[steddieas-shegoes]

Wayne first saw Steve Harrington when he was on a class field trip to the plant. He couldn’t have been older than 9. Eddie hadn’t come to live with him yet.

He only saw him for a minute, but it only took a minute to see that the boy had dark circles under his eyes that rivaled his own.

It took him a while to forget about the exhausted child in front of him and how much he reminded him of his nephew.

*****

He attended one of the Hawkins High basketball games during Eddie’s first senior year, took the night off for it, even. Eddie was never one for sports, so the fact he agreed to play with his band during their halftime was something Wayne couldn’t pass up watching. It had to have meant something to his boy for him to even mention it, so he played the part of proud parent and sat through the first half of the game.

But when he saw Steve Harrington out there, he couldn’t help but check for those dark circles or the same exhausted slump he saw in a child much too young to show physical signs of exhaustion.

He appeared to be fine, though Wayne couldn’t help but notice how he kept searching the stands for something or someone during every pause in the game.

Wayne had a gut feeling he knew who he was searching for, and an even stronger one that he wouldn’t find them.

After the game and the show, Wayne helped Eddie pack his guitar and amp into the back of the van.

“Hey, you ever talk to that Harrington boy?”

Eddie’s face was answer enough.

*****

To know Eddie was alive wasn’t enough for Wayne, he needed to watch him breathing, watch his fingers twitch while he slept. He needed to know that Eddie was real, was safe, was right in front of him.

But apparently Steve Harrington needed the same reassurances.

Steve had been by Eddie’s side since they let visitors into the room. As far as Wayne knew, he’d only left once for an hour to visit that Max girl’s room.

He was hesitant to say anything beyond kind greetings and goodbyes when he had to head to work. Steve looked one second away from breaking down.

He held Eddie’s hand like it was a lifeline, and maybe it was for him. Whatever they’d been through was serious, proof of that being the injuries they both were dealing with and the fact that Eddie hadn’t opened his eyes yet.

As much as Wayne wanted explanations, he wanted Steve to find comfort in being with Eddie more.

The dark circles under his eyes remained.

Wayne watched the way Steve would stare at Eddie, wordlessly begging him to open his eyes, and wondered what had changed between them. Was it just the trauma of the situation or something else?

He’d known Eddie liked boys for years; hard to hide when you get caught sneaking out of the house to go to a “special” bar in Indianapolis on a school night. He hugged him, told him he loved him no matter what, and offered to drive him out there himself the next weekend he had off if he promised to not go alone on a school night.

But Steve didn’t seem the type. Wayne had learned how to spot them, mostly so he could protect Eddie, and Steve had never seemed like he’d strayed or even thought about straying from girls.

He shouldn’t assume, though.

He knew how Richard Harrington was.

So he sat silently, guarding the two boys who needed it most.

On the sixth day, Wayne asked a nurse if Steve had left the hospital at all.

“No. Poor boy’s been glued to his side. The doctor had to stitch him up in the room because he wouldn’t leave.”

“Stitch him up?”

“Oh, yes! He had a large wound on his side and his chest had a few areas that needed stitches. He wouldn’t let anyone bandage his neck, but they prescribed him penicillin to try to prevent infection.”

Wayne shook his head. So Steve was a self-sacrificing idiot. Time to address that.

“Thanks, Janet. I owe ya a coffee for takin’ such good care of Eddie.”

Janet blushed. “Stop it! I’m just doing my job.”

Wayne smiled at her before making his way into Eddie’s room.

As usual, Steve was in a chair by his bed, hand in hand with Eddie.

The unusual part was that Steve was fast asleep, head nestled against Eddie’s leg.

It couldn’t be comfortable, but going off of how Steve had looked the day before, he was probably too tired to care about comfort.

Wayne looked at the scene in front of him.

Something else was different, too.

Eddie’d moved.

Only someone who’s been in this room for hours on end every day would have noticed it. Eddie’s head was turned towards Steve, and his other hand had found it’s way to Steve’s hair.

Oh.

So it was like that.

Wayne let out a shaky breath, too many emotions trying to escape at once. His boy had woken up, and had found comfort in someone who hadn’t left his side for almost a week. He couldn’t ask for more.

He slowly made his way out of the room, catching Janet just as she was passing to check on another patient.

“Did Eddie wake up?”

Janet’s eyebrows furrowed. “No, Steve hasn’t come to get us. Why? Is everything alright?”

Wayne nodded. “Everything’s fine.”

She smiled at him and continued on her way.

Wayne smiled to himself as he made his way down to the cafeteria to get Steve some food.

It looked like Steve Harrington was finally getting some rest.

Supportive Uncle Wayne Series Part 2

#steve harrington #eddie munson #wayne munson #steddie #idk I just think Wayne Munson would have adopted Steve the second he could #headcanon #tumblr drabbles

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

You don’t get to tell me about sad

Next chapter

a/n: blame TTPD for this… idk why I keep doing this to myself.

summary: Azriel gets an assignment he can’t seem to decline. Now he has a princess full of attitude under his protection. The only question is whose cold heart will break first.

warnings: past trauma, mean people, age gap but everyone is of age so calm down.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Azriel wasn’t sure who or what he was blaming for the situation that was unfolding. He could blame Rhys, who had put him on this duty. Could blame himself. He had been sloppy during his last assignment and nearly died in the middle of it. Meaning that he had to knock it down a tad. Just until he was fully recovered. And then he could raise his middle fingers at fate. Because she was laughing at him now. He should have just stayed put for a couple more months. Keep it to himself that he was itching to do something. Not sit there practically begging for an assignment. Well, now he dug his own grave, and he was forced to lay in it. 

Letting out a deep sigh, Azriel pushes back from the outside wall. Fluttering his wings a couple of times. A short-term thing, Rhys had said when he slipped the document onto the table. It had taken one glance for Azriel to feel the bitter taste in his mouth. But he hated saying no. Even if babysitting wasn’t on his list of duties.

"Ah, sir, it’s so lovely to see you. It is an honor to have the shadowsinger in our presence," an unfamiliar voice pulled him out of his thoughts, making Azriel’s head spin to the side. He had truly been just standing outside the villa for way too long. “Azriel will do just fine," he breathes out, turning to who he assumed was one of the servants. The sweet older man smiles, “I assume you are here to see the high lord." There’s no bitterness in his voice, and there's a true sense of pride there. “Unfortunately...", Azriel grunts, making the male practically gasp under his breath before he quickly pulls himself together. A fake version of the smile he had given Azriel, now neatly plastered on his face, “This way, please.”

Azriel doesn’t let his eyes wander as he walks through the halls. They were never familiar to him, and he doesn’t plan on changing that ever. So he strides along with the servant, wishing he could walk just a little faster. But by the sudden sharp turn, Azriel is quick to realize that no one is taking him to the belly of the beast. A side sunroom. That almost makes Azriel smile. He liked that he wasn’t trusted enough to be greeted in the main office. 

"Azriel," a voice that never failed to make Azriel frown, greets him as soon as the wooden door opens. "Eris," Azriel says, fixing his eyes on the male in front of him. A male who looked surprisingly awful. Eris loved looking good and not letting others see the real thing hiding behind the fox mask. "Sit," the new high lord gestured to the plush armchair, but Azriel shakes his head, “I rather not.” Eris lets out a sigh. “I’m sure you’ve seen the request," he says, rubbing a hand over his chin. “Bald of you to request anything truthfully," Azriel crosses his arms over his chest. A slight smile tugs at the fireling lips, “Maybe I like stooping low from time to time.” 

But Azriel refused to let on, “You hid her. You went behind the law." That was the first thing he had said to Rhys as well. But, of course, there were exceptions for the royal families even there. “I didn’t hide her," and here it was in that much firmer tone, one that always jumped out when one accused Eris of anything, “Beron did. Used her to control me. Too many souls know that she is a weak link”, “Surprised you didn’t just leave her by the border the way you did with Mor" Azriel cut in, letting that bubbling frustration ooze out. Even if he had promised himself he wouldn’t stoop so low, “She was also a weak link, wasn’t she?”, he jabbed, making Eris clench his fists. From the fire burning in his eyes, Azriel knew that the bite back would be as lethal as it probably would have been if not for the noise outside the room. The sound of feet and a figure practically falling through the door. 

"Eris," the voice was breathless, notes of laughter still on it. Tapping of the paws followed suit. As two hounds brushed past the folds of your skirt, rushing towards their true owner, "Eris, look..." your voice hitched as your eyes landed on Azriel. His face remained as cold as it was before, but he had to admit it. Azriel was waiting to see a scrawny girl. Not a young and mature female. Sharp autumn features. And those breathtaking green eyes...

“Oh, I...”, you quickly lowered your head, “I will come by later," but before you didn’t even turn, before Eris grunted, “No, come in, YN." You blinked a couple of times, clearly confused as to why you might be needed here. “What’s going on?", the question was practically a whisper as you wiped the dirt-covered hands on the skirt that looked nothing like the kind a princess should wear. 

“There will be changes happening," Eris said, placing his hands on the table, “You’ve been misbehaving." A light chuckle slipped past your lips. “What?" you breathed, shaking your head. “I do not have the patience nor time to run after you," the high lord said, waving his hand in the air. And that was all it took to make your shoulders droop. Your big eyes staring back at your brother, but Azriel sensed the shift in your energy. He saw the twitch in Eris’s hands, but he didn’t back down. “The spymaster will be taking you with him. You’re to behave accordingly,", “I will not go anywhere with that… tree of a man," you hissed, pointing to Azriel, who almost laughed at the insult. If one could even call it that. “What is this nonsense you’re weaving?”, you stepped forward, demanding an answer. 

“Mind your tone, young lady," Eris growled, pointing a warning finger at you. The room grew quiet. You could hear the flickering of the candles. A heartbeat. One, two, three. “I will stay in my room; I won’t go anywhere, I promise," you begged. Desperation. A nice weapon. But Azriel doubted that it would work on Eris. “You said that the last time and then proceeded to sneak out with Makoa."  Eris reached for the glass bottle, pulling a glass out. He had already settled on his decision, and he was showing you just that. “That was one time," you whispered, desperately trying to catch your brother’s eye. 

“Don’t lie to me," Eris chuckled. “I’m not," and you weren’t. Azriel felt it. He knew that Eris felt it too. “Pack what you need. You’re to leave as soon as possible. Further instructions will be given to you through the spymaster," and that was it. Dismissed. For a moment, Azriel thought that he would have to watch you cry. Beg maybe. “That’s all?”, you hissed through gritted teeth. “You want me to kiss it better?”, Eris asked. A breath hitched in your throat. Knuckles turning white from how hard you clenched your fists. You just spun on your heel. Candles dancing in your movement. A harsh slam of the door. 

Eris let out a shaky breath, but Azriel couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled from his lips. “You are a different breed," the spymaster said, shaking his head. “It will be easier this way," Eris muttered, not taking his eyes from the door. “I beg to differ," Azriel pointed out, turning to leave as well. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, shadowsinger," the fireling bit back. Azriel turned to face him once more. “But you asked for my help," and he knew he had a winning card in his hands. “I’m not doing this because you asked. I'm doing this because she is innocent in all of this."  That was the last thing he said before he stepped out too. 

He had barely made it to the outside terrace when he saw you practically stomping toward the woods. “Mother, give me patience," he muttered under his breath before leaping into the sky. “Where are you going?", he called out. But you didn’t stop. Your steps didn’t falter as you pushed past another branch. “To your fucking court," you hissed, taking your anger out on the poor bushes as you stepped over them.

“Are you sure it’s that way?”, Azriel called out, landing just a couple of feet behind you. You halted, turning left. “Save us both the trouble and let me winnow us there," he said, reaching for your hand, but you turned so fast, pulling a shining dagger from your belt and aiming it at Azriel’s throat. “If you touch me, I will skin you," you grunted angrily. Azriel lifted his hand, pushing his fingers beneath the blade. “You would have to aim a bit higher, princess; you wouldn’t hit the vital artery." He watched the way your jaw practically grinned your teeth to the nerve. 

“Don’t worry, I can always aim for your balls," you snarled back, turning away. Azriel rubbed a hand over his face, letting you walk a few feet ahead. “So, the plan is to walk through Autumn, Winter, Dawn, and Day, and let’s not forget the under-the-mountain part," he pointed out. You stopped once more. Even with your back turned to him, Azriel could tell the way your chest was rising and falling rapidly. 

Turn around; he practically begged in his head; don’t make me regret this even more. But just as he had concluded before, this was Mother’s way of making him pay for everything bad that he had done. Because you stepped forward, inching deeper into the forest. Azriel shook his head. For a moment, he considered letting you walk away, but he took to the skies instead.

You weren’t even sure if you were mad. Were you sad? Annoyed? Confused? It was all fine. Just last week, you were both swimming in the lake. You and your brother. Laughing. He had even pulled out his carving knife. It was fine. Lucien was going to come back, too. Angry tears rolled off your cheeks as you push back another branch, ducking under it. At least that winged bruit had chosen to leave you by. But they all do. A bitter laugh slipped past your lips at the thought of it. A burden from birth—that’s what your father told you day in and day out. Maybe if he had finished what he had started that night...

That thought snaps the same way as the branch beneath you. Your feet twist, making you yell slightly as the pain shoots up your leg. But that’s the least of your concerns, as your weight makes you topple over, hand-breaking the fall as the edge of the dome looms closer. Maybe fate has decided to give you a helping hand. But before you can blink, a strong hand wraps around your middle, pulling you up. 

“So you actually can’t be left to your own devices," a deep voice mutters, and you are cursing Mother once more because she could have sent anyone else, but no, that winged male had to be the one. “No one asked for your interference," you grunt, trying to push out of his grip. “Your manners are shit for a princess," he says, and you can’t wait to put him in his place, but the moment you manage to wiggle out of his grip, putting all of your weight on your feet, shooting pain rips through you. You hiss, stumbling over. The spymaster grips your elbow, steadying you. 

“What hurts?”, his voice is solid, but there’s no anger in it. "Nothing," you say through gritted teeth, thankful for the sunset that had already draped the forest in shadows, letting you hide your splotchy face. “Nothing?”, he asks again, “So, if I were to let go?”, “I said nothing.”You pull your hand away, turning back. You can hide a limp. You’ve hidden worse. Right? But you don’t get to take a single step back. Your ankle betrays you as a pained cry slips past your gritted teeth. 

And in a heartbeat, he is there. His big palm once again splayed against your stomach as he steadied you against his chest. Your heartbeat jumps up, but you don’t even get to gasp when he turns you around, lowering you to the nearest fallen trunk. You watch him with a frown. But don’t dare to fight anymore. What’s the point anyway? 

He kneels, his hands moving towards the hem of your skirt. You expect him to just lift it, but his hands halt as he tilts his head up. You can see that he stutters slightly at the sight of your puffy eyes. “Can I?”, he asks. You grit your teeth, “Don’t you own me now? You can do what you want." He frowns. True confession there. “I don’t own you. I am here to protect you. A bodyguard if you will," he says, and even if you want to call him out for lying, something tells you that he is not. “I don’t need protection," you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Considering that you just nearly went flying over the edge," the spymaster gestures over his shoulder. You huff, lifting your left leg. Wincing from the movement alone. 

He reaches for it. His hands… Your heart skips a beat at the scars all over them. You can’t see much, considering that he’s wearing long-sleeved leather, but his whole hand... “You sprained it; it’s already puffing up." His voice makes you jump slightly as you nod along. He glances at you. “I’m afraid your journey through the five courts will have to be cut short, princess." He tries not to show it, but the bastard is practically oozing satisfaction. “Don’t call me that," you say, pulling your leg out of his grasp, cursing under your breath. “Princess?”, he asks almost smugly. “I still have two hands, you fuck," you grunt, trying to stand up, but the spymaster works quicker. His arms snake over your legs and back, and you’re up in his arms in the blink of an eye. You cross your own arms over your chest, refusing to hold onto him. “A tree, a fuck. All very original insults," he says drily, “Try Azriel next time, though. We’re trying to be professional about it after all.”

#azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel x you #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar x you #acotar x oc #eris vanserra x reader

[heartless-tate]

Hopelessly falling ❀ Azriel X reader

summary: Azriel is hopelessly pining after you. He rescued you two months ago and now you live in the library and help the priestesses. He spends everyday wrapped in thoughts of you, but you barely even seem to know he exists.

A/n : Hey guys! This is my first fic for this fandom, I had another account for a different fandom. But I’ve always loved SJM world and I think it’s time I started writing for it. If you want part two let me know! <3

word count; 2k

warnings; disturbing details of gore? Cussing, death, family death, mentions of murder, reader forgetting to eat, depression, blood mention, I think that covers it all? No use of y/n

Blood- blood was everywhere- and all he could focus on were eyes filled with terror staring back at him- Azriel shook the horrendous memory out of his head, wishing it had never happened this way.

Thousands of memories had compiled in his head over the 500 years of his existence, most of them being horrifying and kept him awake at night, but that night seemed to haunt him the most. But as much as he hated to say it- that night was the only reason he met you. Oh, fate was such a cruel, cruel, cruel- creature. Because that night was the same reason he never had the pleasure of seeing you smile. You now worked in the library with priestesses who had endured the same trauma as you, and while he was hoping one day you would heal mentally, he knew the chances were rare.

Azriel stretched his stiff wings and adjusted to standing on his left foot, letting the other rest. He was cloaked by his shadows as he watched you re-shelve books and push along the book cart. You seemed lost in thought, your mind in a far, far, far away place. He watched as that doll-like, lifeless, depressed look came over your face, and he wanted to growl and rip to shreds whatever was upsetting you- but he knew that he couldn't shred memories- and it made him feel more hopeless than anything. He hated it. He wanted to make you feel safe again, and make those beautiful lips spread with joy, your eyes gleaming with happiness.

He had saved you that night, wrapping you in his arms after he had killed off the attackers. He flew you to a healer, and let you make the choice of where you wanted to go- which was here. He hadn't had contact with you ever since, but thoughts of you plagued his mind making him desperate for a lick of attention from you. He wanted to give you time to heal but at this point it seemed the stench of depression on you had grown stronger everyday.

A thump sounded, snatching him away from his thoughts, as a priestess dropped off a giant stack of books in your cart to shelve. He watched as you winced at the noise, turning and sighing at the amount of books in the cart. Your eyes darkened and he knew that your mind went back to that awful place. He couldn't stand it- at this rate he was ready to put underwear on his head and dance like a maniac if it would make you smile. 

You. You, you, you, you. Every time he saw you, it was like everything else stopped- the world stopping, and you- your mere presence was demanding his attention. A room full of hundreds of females and males pining after him- wouldn't even take his attention from you if you were hiding in the corner.

Azriel cursed himself, realizing he was so- hopelessly and shamelessly falling for you.

__________________________

Your cart was filled with at least 60 books at this point. People never realize how much work goes into helping at a library. After- that day, you spent your time in between the shelves, putting books back where they belonged. Usually, the work was enough to distract you from what happened two months ago. But when it was late in the hours of night and it was just you and the quiet darkness, your thoughts always went to that same place.

Screams- men shouting- and then utter silence. Piercing hazel eyes were staring at you. Arms were wrapping around you, everything was eerily quiet now. You swear you could hear blood dripping onto the floor from the body of your sibling.

“No- my- don’t take me from them please-“

Your words fell on deaf ears, whoever was carrying you pushed your head into their shoulder. You couldn’t see your sibling anymore- your hands started clawing at the jackets of whoever was taking you away- they were taking you away from them-

“Hey- it’s okay, you’re safe now. I’ve got you, I’m gonna take you to a healer, okay?” The man said. His voice was oddly gentle and sad in a way- why was he sad? It wasn’t his family who was brutally murdered in front of him. It was yours, and he was taking you away from them. Your mouth opened to scream at him to let go, but your mind processed his words. Healer? Why did you need a healer? You couldn’t feel anything. It was like everything was numb. You forcefully lifted your head despite his hands trying to block your sight. You were now in your living room, and everything reeked of death. Blood was everywhere. In the corner your fathers corpse laid still, eyes wide and unblinking. His stomach had been cut open, his organs spilling onto the floor.

Your mouth opened in a silent scream. “Papa-“

You gasped as you heard a loud noise of something falling. It was late in the evening- barely anyone was here. It was just you and a few other priestesses, and they were graceful. They rarely  made loud noises like that.

 Your head snapped to where the noise was from, and you spot him.

The shadowsinger was squatted on the ground picking up a book he had dropped. His eyes scanned the room as if making sure nobody had seen him being clumsy, until they landed on you. His cheeks flushed a little, and he offered you a shy smile as he stood and placed the book back in its proper place.

You wondered how he managed to drop a book- he was the night court’s spy master for cauldron’s sake! His eyes didn’t leave yours once. Some of the priestesses gossiped of his beauty, and fuck. They weren’t lying. It obviously wasn’t your first time seeing him, but it was odd to see him down here. He must’ve had Clotho’s permission. His staring was enough to make you squirm uncomfortable, and you watched as he went to take a step towards you. Nope.

You slammed your last book for this section on the shelf and grabbed your cart, rolling it away- far away from the shadowsinger. You didn’t bother turning to see  his reaction as you stomped away, the racketing of the cart loud.

——————————————

Clotho shook her head with a sigh as she watched you run in. She waved a hand as you arrived at her desk, signaling she wouldn’t report you were late this time.This wasn’t the first time you had been late, here lately it was getting harder to get out of bed. The only reason you had managed to crawl out of your bed was because the memories were becoming too loud. 

You thanked her, nodding your head appreciatively as you walked to where you last left your cart. It had about 50 books, and without a doubt that number would rise as you made your way through the floors. You gave the cart a test push, and a squeaky racket sounded from it. It was getting louder everyday. Clotho flinched at the sound a look of distaste towards the cart would be on her face- you’re sure of it. She holds up a sticky note that reads, ‘I’ll put in an order for a new one today.’ You gave her a thumbs up before pushing your loud cart to where you would start off for the day. 

Time passes by either slowly or fastly depending where your thoughts are for the day, and you wonder if you’re going insane by the time it gets to 3 pm. Whether the growing insanity feeling is from the squeaky racket of your cart or the fact you forgot breakfast and lunch today, you’re not sure. The library gets old quick. The  first month you were here, it was easy to be distracted by the towering bookshelves and the thousands upon thousands of books you see everyday. But here lately the sights grow old, and the sound of this cart is enough to make you wonder if you should check yourself into a therapist. But atlas, you don’t. You continue the waltz of shelving books everyday. As the library grows more  boring everyday, you wonder if its the right place for you. You wonder if it was the right decision to stay here, considering you feel worse then you ever did. 

If it wasn’t for the fact if you left you wouldn’t have any idea what to do with your life, you would’ve asked the high lord to assist you in moving to Velaris. But what would you do with your life? Rot in bed all day? 

You hear a loud grumble, and you look around the library before realizing it was your stomach. It had been making unearthly sounds since 1 pm, yelling at you to eat. But it was too late, it was 3 pm. Your hands clutched at your stomach, begging it to stop. You’d eat dinner later around 5, just a few more hours away. 

Oh well, there wasn’t anything to be done. You grasped a book from your cart, turning and shelving it. Your stomach growled again, distracting you from the squeaky noise your cart made. But it didn’t hide the loud thumping noise- as if someone had tripped. You turned, only catching a glimpse of a dark shadow behind the bookshelves. Your steps were loud as you stomped out of the corner you had been in, looking for whoever it had been. But there was nothing. Nobody was near. This floor was empty except for you. Were you finally insane enough to hallucinate? You groaned in sync with your stomach as you turned back around, walking to your cart. A delicious smell- of chocolate and butter invaded your nose. You cursed whoever had entered the library with food that smelt so good, until you spotted the box sitting on your cart. That hadn’t been there. You approach your cart, eyeing the box. It was a white paperish box. You looked around again, scanning if anyone had left it here on accident but no one was near. 

Curiosity got the best of you and you slowly opened the box. In it was a collection of pastries. Chocolate croissants, cookies, cupcakes, fudge- the whole bakery practically! Your stomach growled in desire. You snapped the box shut- this wasn’t yours. Right? Someone probably accidentally left it. But one bite couldn’t hurt? No! You shouldn’t. That box was clearly worth around a 100 gold coins, it would be wrong to indulge in its wonderful contents. 

Fuck it. They shouldn’t of left it on your cart. You made quick work of opening the box and grabbing the most appetizing pastry there and shoving it down your throat. The flavors melted in your mouth, earning a moan of appreciation from you. 

Cauldron bless whoever was dumb enough to leave this box near you. 

———————————————

Azriel sat in his room at the house of wind, in the floor. His hands clutched at his face as he mentally cursed himself for tripping. 

He had tripped. The first time in his entire 500 years of being alive, he stumbled trying to get away from your cart. He could feel his face burning red as he rushed out of the library, Clotho with a knowing smirk as she observed him. Clotho had been granting him permission to enter the library on the excuse of wanting to get into reading more. And they both knew it was complete bullshit. But Clotho didn’t care, knowing he stayed away from all the other priestesses- except you. 

He had been watching you for a while now, realizing you had seemed to be getting worse. You had been coming in later and later every morning, forgetting meals every now and then. It was nerve wracking to him, he just wanted you better. And it seemed the library wasn’t helping you. He’d give it some time before he went to Rhys and asked if there was something else they could do for you.  He just wanted you to be alright. He didn’t care if you would never fall in love as he did, as long as you were happy he could live peacefully. 

Azriel hoped you would enjoy the pastries he had picked out for you. He hadn’t known what you would like best, so in a panic, he asked the manager to shove in a variety of their most popular pastries. 

Azriel still couldn’t get over the fact he had tripped. His mind has been going haywire ever since he rescued you. All he could think was you, you, you and, you! We’re you alright? Did you get up this morning? Did you eat? At this point it became clear he couldn’t even focus on the simplest of tasks like staying hidden. 

You had him in a chokehold. He was wrapped effortlessly around your finger, and you didn’t even know it. 

I hope you enjoyed! Lmk if you want part two. 💕

#Azriel X reader #azriel x reader angst #acotar fic #acotar fanfiction #azriel x you #azriel angst #azriel acotar #Imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #acotar 5 #acosf #acotar #x reader

[fxllfaiiry]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ୨୧  :  ꒰  𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊  ꒱  ♡ ˚₊‧

⌗ synopsis : some nsfw and sfw miguel headcanons.

⌗ cw : both fluff and smut. swearing, use of yn like once, some angst, thigh riding, titty fucking, size kink, mentions of crying and pain kink, breeding kink.

⌗ notes : REPOST!! someone flagged this post and I worked really hard on writing this fic so it's annoying and it makes me upset, please don't flag it again, just scroll away. please, please reblog!!!

✰ miguel o'hara makes you watch him work out because he knows how flustered you get when he's sweaty and shirtless. he'll also make you sit on his back while he's doing push-ups, exaggerating every move just to tease you.

✰ when he's not in his spiderman suit, he sometimes likes to wear the tightest shirts around you, he knows those shirts do his arms justice.

✰ the only person he's scared of is you. if you don't want him to do something, he won't do it. end of story.

✰ you occasionally like to tease him by randomly slapping his ass or saying things like:  

"how are your tits bigger than mine?"

"teach me your workout routine"

"damn, that ass looks good"

"you definitely have a big dick"

✰ you are the only person who can make miguel o'hara flustered.

✰ you love to kiss him every time he pouts, it's the cutest thing ever.

✰ when you guys are in public he shows little to no pda, but he smiles a lot more than usual.

✰ he may never admit it, but he loves cuddles :)) he loves to cage you in his arms and place kisses wherever he can reach. it's very soothing and helps him fall asleep.

✰ loves to watch you cook while hugging you from behind.

✰ playfully pretends to bite you every now and then, he looks all big and scary but he does have a soft side.

✰ remember the scene with lyla and miguel where she made him say please before calling for backup? yeah imagine that with you.

"yn, go call for backup now."

"excuse me? is this how you talk to your wife?" you huff glaring at him.

"I don't have time for this right now, just do it, okay?" he grumbles.

"not until you say it."   "no-"

"fine, no backup then." you start walking away from him ready to leave, until -

"okay, okay. baby, will you p-please call for backup?" he whispers.

"louderr"

"baby, will you please call for backup?"

"yeah I already did, but I enjoyed that"

✰ slowly learns to open up to you about his trauma, it takes some time but once he's ready you guys spend hours talking to each other.

✰ he can never stay mad at you for too long, most of the time he's the first to apologize.

✰ if you cry because of him he'll do anything to make it up to you. he'll make you your favorite meal to cheer you up and then later hold you tightly against him apologizing over and over again.  

✰ everyone teases him for being so soft around you, sometimes you join in as well.

"yeah, miggy, did I turn you into a giant soft teddy bear, hm?

"dear god, please shut up."

                  ୨୧　:　꒰ nsfw ahead  ꒱　　♡

✰ this man is the king of aftercare, cuddling with you and whispering how good you were. he'll even run you a bath afterward and shower you with affection.

✰ makes you get off on his thigh because he knows how much you love riding it, he loves how wet it gets with your arousal, making you clean it up afterwards.

✰ definitely is into fucking your tities, he has no control and starts to rut his hips like an animal. he admires how pretty your tits and face look afterwards covered in his cum.

✰ is addicted to eating you out, thrusting his tongue into your hole for hours and hours, he's addicted to your taste. miguel also conveniences you to ride his face and use him as you please, all he wants is to be suffocated between your thighs.

✰ he can usually smell when you're horny for him, if he's at work and this happens then it's an awkward situation, because he desperately wants to fucking rail you in the nearest empty room. oh, and he also has to hide his boner from everyone.

✰ uses his strength to hold you up against the wall and fuck you hard and fast.

✰ he knows how big he is and mocks you about how you won't be able to fit him in your tiny pussy.

"are you sure it'll fit, mami?"

"your pussy is so tiny, mama. I don't think you'll be able to take it"

✰ winds you up by rubbing his cock up and down your pussy without putting it in, he barely has any patience himself, seeing his cock glisten with your wetness makes him lose his mind.

✰ miguel will slap your cunt as a punishment until you're clenching around nothing and crying while begging him to fuck you.  

✰ leaves love bites everywhere as a reminder that you are his and his only.

✰ you'll wear his favorite shade of lipstick before sucking him off, leaving the lipstick's imprint on his dick.

✰ breeds you like an animal, fucking you raw for hours and filling you up in every position. nothing will leak out on his watch and if it does, then he'll shove it back in using his fingers. he will lick up everything from your overestimated cunt ignoring your soft whimpers of "papi, it hurts."

✰ ties you up with his webbing and uses you as his personal toy.

✰ loves to take you from behind, smacking your ass and leaving handprints, because he's mezmeriozed by the way it jiggles every time. while he's hitting it from behind he's so rough and messy, coating you with his seed all over your ass and back, filling you up to the brim, and making sure you don't walk the next day.

✰ talking back to him will only lead to him rubbing your clit and edging you till your clit is red and engorged to the point where the throbbing has become unbearable. he might take pity and finally fuck your weeping hole.

"finally learned your lesson, mama?"

✰ soft sex is also a yes!! he may be rough and all but he loves to dot on you, whispering praises into your ear while holding you oh so delicately against his body.

#📂 ‧₊˚ my works .ᐟ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman x reader #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o'hara smut #spiderverse #miguel o'hara fluff

[weirdworldofwinnie]

A Safe Way Out

Jonathan Breech x Female Reader (NSFW 18+ only)

Summary: You're a very shy patient at the psychiatric hospital and the newest inpatient part of the therapy group has to be the cutest man you've ever seen, and he takes an interest in you, but he's not quite as innocent as he looks.

Word Count: ~3,384

Warnings: Smut (unprotected sex), loss of virginity/innocent reader, cum squirting, oral (fem receiving), mental illness, past trauma, talk of depression and suicide, some angst, language

Disclaimer: This just fantasy/fiction, I do not own anything from the 2001 Irish film On the Edge starring Cillian Murphy.

Breech, Jonathan.

He was surely the prettiest person you'd ever witnessed admitted to this institution that he could make both men and even women jealous, even though his pajamas were ill-fittingly too short and he had a cocky attitude that didn't go unnoticed by the staff and other patients, but he wasn't a total asshole... at least you hoped.

At the couple of group therapy sessions he attended he was rebellious, giving the always tired (but very patient) Dr. Figure grief through ample sarcasm that made you stifle smirks, but as usual you never spoke much, being selectively mute unless you were forced to answer a question from Dr. Figure. They didn't give any drugs to dope up; the doctor didn't think you nor the small group you were part of needed them, but sometimes you wished they would so you didn't have to participate in these stupid sessions that went in half-spun circles and could just conk out in your room or outside.

You had been submitted here by your estranged parents after a series of concerning events that you had tried to mentally block out, including attempting to take your own life because of bullying and abuse; you were not able to ever acclimate fully to society because of it, which led you to being stuck in this place, mentally spinning wheels while growing more and more wary of the outside world everyday. Jonathan was the opposite; he had a spark of defiance and a fire you didn't have enough oxygen for to nourish for yourself. He clearly didn't think he really belonged here and in a way, you sort of admired him even if he was a bit strange and potentially dangerous... He was certainly an exciting refresher in such a dull, day-to-day drudgery.

One day after walking out of yet another mildly frustrating therapy session, he stepped in front of you in the hall as you were making your way back to your room alone, a curious light in his stunningly blue excuses for eyeballs.

"Hey, you mind if I join ya in your room?" he asked suddenly and you froze, uncertain of how to react. You only ever minimally interacted one-on-one with people you trusted... Fellow patient Nick kept saying Jonathan wasn't to be trusted, but Nick was also kind of a paranoid weirdo that always was listening to his headphones, so what did he know?

Jonathan seemed to sense your hesitation and he grinned, trying to put you at ease or maybe he was just messing with you. Either way, you had to hide your intrigue in case he was pulling your leg.

"Don't look spooked out, I'm just so fucking bored at this place and you're pretty cute, but you never really talk... I just wanna get to know ya better," he explained sincerely, but you still felt wary.

"Can I see your room at least?" he asked innocently and you finally gave him a shy nod, causing him to smile in broad relief that reminded you of the last rays of sunlight splashing upon the cliffs.

He walked along beside you, swinging his arms back and forth a bit as if he was winding himself up, all the way to your room and past an orderly who gave him a suspicious glance, but you gave the man a thumbs up to let him know it was fine. Security here was surprisingly not as strict as one would imagine for a psychiatric hospital and the younger patients tended to sneak out once a week to the city with minimal repercussions. They always came back anyway.

You reached your designated room and opened the door slowly, and Jonathan strolled in after you, sighing loudly.

"Oh, would'ja look at that - they gave you the fanciest room they've got," he commented sarcastically as you sat down on the small bed, tucking your knees up to your chest and he stood, surveying you and scene for a second and then joining to sit, copying your posture. He fiddled with his slippers for a minute and then turned to you curiously.

"So lemme get this right: You only talk when or if you have ta?"

"Yeah," you mumbled and he nodded sagely.

"That's an interesting way to deal with people. Don't blame ya, lot of wanks out there not worth being spoken to. What's your name - I mean, I know it from the meeting, but can you say it?" he asked, however unlike any doctor, it wasn't clinical or judgmental. He truly seemed interested and so you whispered your first name aloud to the floor.

"It's a nice name. How old are you?" You could hear the smile in his deep voice.

"T-Twenty two," you responded with a slight stutter, too fluttery to be able to meet his gaze.

"Fuck, that's older than me... I'm nineteen, but you know already know that. You ever been anywhere outside of Dublin?"

You looked away, not answering. If you ever had, you'd been too small to remember.

"How long you've been here?" he asked curiously and you splayed your hand, palm up towards him.

"Five weeks or five years?"

"Years," you whispered and he was silent for a few minutes, picking at the hem of his baby blue pajama pants.

"So much for the road to recovery, eh?" he scoffed and you just shrugged.

He put his legs down, feet flat on the floor and crossing his arms tight to his chest, wearing that oversized silly orange patterned sweater of his. He sniffed and bit his lip, glancing up at the bare ceiling as if he would find the answers to existence there.

"Something happened to you, I know. Shit, something happened to us all here. It's okay if you don't wanna or can't talk 'bout it. But I can't figure out if you have the same thoughts me and the others have? You know, what the doc locks us up for... suicidal? Like there's no fucking point to this blip of existence? And they think we're nuts, but we just seein' the truth."

You slowly pulled up your sleeve, exposing the faint scars etched into your left wrist, remnants of cutting attempts to escape life before you had been dumped off in this place indefinitely. You had never tried it since and were now an adult and could seek the means to leave if you truly wanted to, but there was nothing out there in the world for you.

"See this pinky finger?" Jonathan asked suddenly, poking up his baby finger and you nodded, interested.

"I was just trying to get rid of what was left of me old Da and the damn car didn't do the job right. Could've broken neck but all I broke was me baby finger. Least you've got the scars there to prove survivin'." He sighed heavily, almost disappointed, and you spoke the first sentence you had in days, your voice hushed from disuse.

"Why do ya wanna die?"

He blinked, giving you a meaningful glance and his full lips stretched into a tight ironic smile.

"I don't want to die; I don't want to be alive. I'm just a fucking living ghost, we all are... Doesn't that realization scare the wits outta ya?"

He looked away at the wall, blinking as the drippy tears escaped and his mouth quivered in quiet anguish, his dewy face scrunching up. You reached over and touched his cheek, catching a tear rolling down his smooth pallid skin and wiping it off tenderly. He sniffled, embarrassed, and gently took your wrist and whispered emphatically.

"I like you, Y/N. You don't freak out or talk down to me or bitch about your own problems. You're unique, but I'm thinking ya too cute to be truly crazy."

"Cute?" you repeated and he grinned at hearing your high breathy voice.

"Don't be so afraid to talk, you got a pretty voice. Bet nobody be calling ya cute in a long time, right?"

You shrugged sheepishly and he tilted your chin up with his fingers, tracing the outline of your face fondly and you blushed, not used to being touched by anyone like that. It was... comforting, a feeling you had been very numb to for some time. His pinkish lips parted and he tilted his head slightly, mouth gaping in anticipation for a kiss but you froze, unsure and not wanting to take the lead.

"I want a kiss," he murmured and the way he said it made you draw closer, trusting the process. He closed his eyes and blindly groped your lips, sucking, and then his tongue dove in with a surprising force, swirling around your mouth and he gripped the sides of your head in a vice, cutting off any resistance... Not that you were repulsed in any way once the initial shock wore off.

He broke away after several seconds, gasping and licking his lips hungrily.

"Mm, didja like that?"

Your cheeks became pink and he glanced over your head at the windowpanes being pattered with a steady rain and it was growing dimmer outside, evening approaching with a cloaking storm, and it reflected in the dull colors of the room that was becoming muted of natural light.

"Can I show you something?" he asked huskily, shifting on the bed restlessly.

You ducked your chin in affirmative, heart fluttering in uncertainty as he reached to yank his sweater and pajama shirt over his head, leaving him with a bare chest. You stared, fascinated in his anatomy; it had been so long since you'd seen anyone without some clothing on. He grinned, pointing awkwardly to your own chest.

"So, uh, now this... this'll be the part where you remove your garment," he instructed and cautiously, you unbuttoned your pj's and you never wore a bra, so soon he was facing your naked breasts with your nipples hardening from the airy exposure.

"Really cute," he breathed, gently putting a finger to your right nipple and pressing lightly, stroking around the center and then drawing a line to the other breast, doing the same to that one and you shivered, feeling a strange pull in your stomach that was borderline butterflies. He leaned back, bouncing up slightly on the bed and kicking his slippers off to the floor.

"But hold on, there's more to see," he said with a verging mischievous excitement. You'd never seen him look so genuinely joyful and as he tugged down his pj bottoms, you blinked, faced with a protruding bugle in his white underwear.

After a beat, he removed his boxers, springing forth a stiff appendage that you'd never in the flesh on a man, well, in its erect state at least.

"Want to touch it? It doesn't bite," Jonathan joked with a lazy grin and you cautiously extended a hand and put your fingers on the glistening tip. It was definitely moist and firmly solid, and he shuddered through a breath of arousal.

"Wet," you observed and he laughed, scooting closer so his penis was resting in your hands.

"I like it when you touch me there, don't stop," he begged and you felt him up, amused at his reaction.

He twitched in your palms as you ran careful fingers up his fleshy length and to his balls, lightly petting the coarse dark hair nesting around them, and he shivered pleasurably, resisting the urge to already ejaculate.

"Feelin' good?" you asked fondly, seeing his mouth agape and eyes nearly rolling back.

"Too fuckin' good, need to stop before I cum too quick. Wanna enjoy this... Lemme have at that pussy of yours now instead of using me dick, m'kay?"

You could tell it wasn't a question, but you weren't sure what he meant entirely. You eased off his genitalia, cock dripping slightly, and sat back, waiting for him to elaborate.

"Here," Jonathan murmured and his hands went to your waist, teasing down the waistband of your pj's and pushing the pants down your legs, letting you wiggle out and kick them to the floor, along with your slippers. He stared for a full ten seconds at your womanhood, biting his lip and swirling his tongue around his mouth, before he bent down and spread your legs apart. You tried to ask him what was going to happen, but he dove in already, tongue flicking at your delicate folds with attempted precision. You gasped audibly at the new sensation and he clamped hands down on your thighs, clinging on as he maneuvered his thick tongue faster and you grabbed at a fistful of his hair, shaking from the unfamiliarity and equal anticipation as your body seemed to take control of natural instincts and budding arousal grew stronger.

He just wanted to warm you up though, and he withdrew his tongue soon, lips glistening with a tiny smear of discharge. Your bare chest rose and fell in rhythm as he surveyed the fresh terrain, just aching for more. You very well might be a complete virgin and that prospect tantalized him yet also privately frightened him of messing up. Of course he'd been with girls before, but they weren't this sheltered and sweet. He may corrupt you and alter the course of this extremely new friendship, which in his mind was always meant to become more of a relationship; the moment he saw you he knew he needed to get in your pants.

"Eh, give it a go," Jonathan told himself forcibly and his finger jerked onto your entrance, worming in needily and making you squeak in surprise. He shushed you, zipping his lips with his free hand, giving you a clear message that it wasn't wise to make unusual noises. Even though it wasn't like there was cameras in the rooms, one couldn't be too careful. If Dr. Figure found out his newest unstable patient, the same one that pledged not to kill himself before New Year's Eve, was somewhat taking advantage of a virgin he just met in her own room, the doc would be most displeased.

Nevertheless, whimpers escaped from your throat as he pressed further to your clit and moved another finger to join the first, uncomfortably stretching into your walls. Despite the stinging pain, you felt an decent amount of wetness pooling from your vagina, almost like peeing, and clenched reflexively, hitting his knuckles.

"Oh, I'm thinking it's ready," he whispered impatiently, wriggling his digits away with a squelch and wiping your light drizzle of cum on his cock.

Before you could react, he adjusted position and slid on top of you, pressing his body down onto your bare one and rubbing his full cock in-between your thighs.

You gasped when he began to shove in rather roughly, squirming into your tight unbroken hole and you looked up at his face, watching his hair askew slightly and you noticed a scar above his eyebrow you hadn't noticed before. You wrapped your arms around his neck, afraid to get pinned underneath him, and tried to buck and roll with the motion, but it was getting painful.

"Hurts," you whimpered into his ear as he thrusted further.

"Not gonna hurt in a minute, baby," he whispered, too in heat to stop and consider much else and he clapped a hand over your mouth to stifle any more alarming noises.

"C-Can't go-go all the way in," he panted, his skin slapping yours and rocking the whole small bed.

Sure enough, the pain became more bearable though the more he worked you and pleasure eventually overturned it altogether, the bursting bloom of an orgasm that was very likely the best feeling that had ever happened to you. You sank your mouth on his shoulder to stifle a cry, careful to not bite too deeply, and then mewled into his neck, panting heavily along with him and digging your fingers into his brown scrubby sideburns and floppy hair.

"Mm, fuc-fucking good, ya likin' it, eh?" Jonathan choked out in a whisper and you couldn't respond, too taken by this incredible euphoria and the way his cock flexed inside close at your cervix. You weren't sure how long he could stay in without it becoming too uncomfortable, but he lifted up slightly, grunting softly at his own arousal and effort.

He pulled out just in time, finishing outside by squirting hot ropes of milky cum all over your vagina, stomach, and legs. The bedsheets took a few splatters as well and he heaved in relief as you laid there, utterly stunned at his sexual performance. You had squirted a little bit too and it had intermixed with his juices that you couldn't tell which was from whom. It was so intimate and gross and a big part of you absolutely loved it, having never been in such a situation before... It was exciting and playful.

He swiped two fingers through the fluids and spread it on your thighs further, encouraging you to feel it as well and you giggled at him taking your own fingers and guiding them up to his face, dotting his chin with cum.

Jonathan then sat back on his haunches and admired you, catching his breath and listening to the steady patter of rain. You rolled over onto your side and your eyes widened at a couple spots of blood on the sheets and he looked down in causal observance.

"Ah, that'd be normal, don't worry," he assured with a chuckle.

"Though, uh, maybe we'd better try to hide it case they come collect the sheets tomorrow," he realized on second thought.

"I say I been bleeding, on my cycle," you offered as an explanation.

"Yeah, that'd be good cover," he agreed and climbed off, picking up his clothing and shimmying back into the pajamas and sweater.

"Look, I'll get us some towels or somethin' from the bathroom," he said, walking quietly to the door and opening it with a peering glance out, but the coast was clear. Most patients should be in their rooms by now anyhow.

You relaxed in a post-orgasmic trance while he was gone, listening to the dripping weather outside and wondering how you'd be able to be normal around him tomorrow.

The door squeaked open softly a couple minutes later and Jonathan came back inside with a bundle of torn sheets of toilet paper clutched in his hand.

"Couldn't get towels, so I took some shit paper that'll have ta do instead," he announced with dry amusement and he used it to wipe you clean of the wet mess and you thanked him quietly, grateful to be dry again for it had become rather cold and tingly on your skin. You automatically flinched a fraction when he wiped at your folds, as you were raw and sore, but he was fairly gentle. When he finished, Jonathan moved in very close as if for a kiss, but only whispered near to your ear, tickling your earlobe with his warm breath.

"Don't tell anyone about what we did... just a little secret, m'kay? Though I guess you wouldn't be blabbin' to anyone else anyway," he chuckled darkly, but it wasn't mean.

"Maybe we can see each other again?" he proposed as he balled up the soiled toilet paper and retreated back towards the door.

"Okay, Jonathan," you whispered in reply and he flushed at the sound of his name on your lips.

"I think you'll be my new therapy, better than anything that wanker of a Freud psychiatrist can offer." He paused, shuffling his feet and then glanced up daringly, determination in his blue orbs.

"We'll find a way out soon, a safe way out, me and you and Rachel and Toby... and I'll show you how to have a good time at the pub, eh? Like the sound of that?"

You only smiled as he turned to exit, but then abruptly paused and bit his lip as he looked back at you with a yearning, like what the two of you had just done still wasn't enough.

"Abair do phaidreacha agus codhladh sámh," he spoke in Gaelic and you translated back softly with a meaningful smile.

"Say your prayers and sleep well."

With a dip of his head and smug, yet almost childlike smile, Jonathan ducked out the door and was gone for the night.

#jonathan breech #on the edge #on the edge 2001 #jonathan breech x reader #cillian murphy #jonathan breech smut #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x fem!reader #young cillian murphy #cillian murphy fanfic #on the edge movie #irish film #fictional psychiatric hospital #don't like don't read #my writing #winnie's writing

[gingerbloof]

Good Boy (sub!astarion x fem soft dom!reader)

contents: MAJOR 18+ MDNI, plotless smut, mentions of safe word however not used, slight mentions of past trauma, sensative elf ears, use of toys and lube, ass play/pegging (male receiving), dry humping, nipple play, oral (male receiving), male masturbation, orgasm denial, praise, precum, sweet fluff at the end

word count: 3,070

The thought had been drifting in his mind for a while, ever since the night he shared with you in the graveyard. Claiming back your body and growing comfortable with intimacy again was one thing, but this? This was going to take a lot of trust… And a lot of patience.

The thought and conversation of you taking control in the bedroom had come up quite a few times, not only because it intrigued you, but Astarion wanted nothing more than to experience something new with you. The only issue was his past. He was afraid taking on a more submissive role would remind him of his years with Cazador…

But, he knew he could trust you. He knew that you wouldn’t do anything to push him past his limits, unless of course he asked for it. You have even discussed a system for it; a special word he would use if he needed a break or if he changed his mind. A smile flit across his face. He felt so safe and secure with you… And he knew that he wanted to do this, as long as you were comfortable as well.

He walked into your shared bedroom to find you in a black silky night slip, long enough to reach to your mid thigh. There was a slit in one of the sides, revealing more of your beautiful, soft skin. You were curled up on the bed reading a book. The faint glow of the candles in the room illuminated you beautifully…

Gods, you were perfect.

He felt his cock harden at the sight of you. He took a small breath, nervousness starting to fill in his chest. He walked toward the bed and tried to keep his usual composure. “Hello, my sweet,” He said in his usual honeyed voice, and walked toward the bed.

You looked up and grinned at him. You always looked so happy to see him, it made his undead heart swell with delight. “Hi, my star!” As you looked at him you could notice he was nervous, despite the front he was putting on. You marked your page in your book and set it on the nightstand, sitting up. “Is something the matter?” You asked.

If he had a pulse, he knew it would be quickening right now. Not only because he was nervous to ask you, but because of how much he loved you. You always knew exactly what was wrong, even when he tried hiding it. He smiled and sat down next to you and placed his icy cold hand on your thigh. “I’ve been doing some thinking…” He started, looking into your eyes. “And I think… I would like to try that… Thing we’ve been talking about.”

You took his hand in yours and looked back into his eyes. “Really? Are you sure? Because I don’t want you to feel forced or pressured, my love,” You said, squeezing his hand gently.

He smiled as he felt a couple of small tears swell in his eyes. He couldn’t help it… This is exactly why he trusted doing this with you, because of how safe you made him feel. He took your hand in his as well and nodded. “I want you to have all of me, darling. Even my vulnerable sides. I trust you with everything in me.” You grinned as you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his. He returned the kiss happily, cupping your face in his hands, the warmth of your skin filling his entire being. He craved you, more than you could ever know.

The kiss soon turned from soft and gentle to deep and greedy. Your tongue swept across his lower lip and he allowed you access. Your tongue danced around his and you started to crawl on top of him, straddling him. He made a small moan as he felt you push against his almost painfully hard cock. He could feel beads of precum soiling his trousers as you kissed along his jaw, and eventually his neck. He put a hand on the back of your head, relaxing into you. A whimper left his lips as you gently nipped at his pale skin, leaving small love marks on his pale flesh.

You slowly lifted up his shirt looking up at him, silently asking for permission. He nodded and you lifted it over his head. He felt your eyes scan over his body, love and lust filling both of your senses. Your thumb slowly reached out to draw slow gentle circles around one of his nipples. He gasped softly and bit his lower lip, trying to hold back his moans. You noticed this and smiled sweetly at him as you leaned forward to whisper into his ear. “It’s okay, my love. Make all the sounds you want, there’s no need to hide,” Your voice was a soft purr in his ear and he grunted, not budging. You smirked and laid soft kisses along his ear, earning you another gasp and a whimper.

“Sensitive here, are we?” You asked playfully, taking the curve of his ear between your lips and sucking on it gently. You continued to tease his nipple and pressed your thigh in between his legs. He shuddered under you, gripping onto your shirt. The pleasure was absolutely insane, and you had barely even started. His cock throbbed against your thigh as he started to unconsciously buck his hips against it. You chuckled softly as you kissed your way down his body. You took one of his hardened nipples into your mouth and sucked gently, swirling your tongue against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Astarion’s breath hitched in his throat, his back arching slightly. “D-Darling, that feels… Too good,” He moaned, earning a moan of approval from you. You lifted your head up to look him hungrily in the eyes, a smirk on your face. “We’ve only just begun, my love.” You purred.

You kissed further down his body and tugged down his trousers, his cock springing free from their grip. It was standing perfectly upright and throbbing, precum trickling down the shaft. You bit your lip at the sight, feeling your own arousal growing. But that can wait, right now his pleasure was your priority.

You gently took a hold of him in your hand and pulled back the skin, revealing his pulsating tip. You locked eyes with him as you agonizingly slowly swirled your tongue around his tip, lapping up his precum. He bit his knuckle and his chest heaved, staring down at you working your magic. “P-Please, darling…” He whimpered. “Y-Your mouth… Please.”

You felt the pool of heat in your stomach grow, molten lava burning at your core. The sight of him quivering at your touch and the sound of him begging was so arousing. Almost as arousing as when he takes control of you. You stop the movement of your tongue and he whines, bucking his hips slightly trying to fuck himself in your hand. You let go and smirked. “Be patient, my love,” You purred. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

His whines were music to your ears. The vision before you could put the finest artists of Faerún to shame. His pleading eyes, his failure at trying to hide his sounds of desperation, his rock hard throbbing cock… He was beautiful.

“I-I… I want my cock in your mouth,” He pleaded breathlessly. “Please, darling… I can’t take it anymore.” You smile as you lean back down and take his cock in your palm once more. The words you spoke next are what you’ve been wanting to say for a while, and you knew it would send Astarion over the edge.

“Good boy.”

A shocked, but aroused sound came from his mouth before you parted your lips and took his length into your mouth. He moaned loudly at the sudden sensation and threw his head back, gripping the bed sheets underneath him. You sucked gently and swirled your tongue around his length, bobbing your head, taking more and more of him into your throat.

Thankfully because of your nights together in camp, your gag reflex has decreased, so you could confidently take him all the way into your throat no problem. Your head slowly slid down the rest of the way and stayed still, letting him enjoy the warmth and wetness of your throat. You also stick out your tongue to ensure every inch of him is deep inside your throat.

He is a whimpering, pleasing mess. Watching you take his entire cock so effortlessly makes him throb inside your throat. He wants nothing more than to take back his power and grab your hair and fuck himself in your throat, but he resists, he wants you to make him feel good.

You suck around him as you bob your head up and down, a bit faster this time, making sure to take all of him in your throat at every pass. He moans loudly and grips the sheets tighter, tearing it a bit. His hips start to thrust, matching your pace. You can taste more precum flowing from his tip and his cock swells even more in your mouth. You can tell he’s about to come undone.

“F-Fuck!” He cried out. “Tav you’re gonna make me-“ You suddenly pulled off of him, leaving a thick trail of spit and precum connecting from his cock to your mouth. You smirked greedily at him as he whined pathetically. “W-Why.. Didn’t you..” He whimpered, his chest heaving with every breath. His cock looked as if one touch would make it explode. It twitched violently in the air, begging for release. You chuckle softly as you crawl atop of him once more, kissing him sweetly on the forehead.

“I’m not quite done with you yet, my heart,” You purred. You got off of him as you went to your nightstand, grabbing a bottle of lube. “You wanted to do… Everything we discussed, right, Star?” You asked, turning to him. He took a deep breath and nodded eagerly. “Yes,” He replied. You smiled. “On your hands and knees for me then,”

He quickly obeyed, getting on his hands and knees and arching his back, letting you have full access to him. You sat behind him and gripped his ass cheeks firmly, nibbling on your bottom lip. “You remember what to say if you want to stop, right, Star?” You asked, starting to get your index finger lubed. “Y-Yes, my love,” He replied. You smiled and kissed the back of one of his thighs. “Very good boy,” You purred, your praise earning you an eager moan from the beautiful vampire before you.

You made sure to get your finger very well lubricated. You were quite nervous because you’ve only ever done such a thing to yourself, but you figured it couldn’t be too different.

You slowly circled Astarion’s asshole with your finger, making sure he was nice and relaxed. It twitched under your touch and Astarion let out a long breath. “That’s it, my star, just relax,” You praised, gently rubbing his leg with your other hand. Once you felt his hole was nice and relaxed, you slowly started to ease your finger inside, only until your first knuckle. He moaned softly as he stretched around you, and quivered. You stopped to give him some time to get used to it.

“How does that feel?” You asked soothingly. His legs quivered as he stuttered. “P-Please… More,” You smirked and hummed softly. “I want to hear you beg more, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” You purred. He whined and arched his back more, trying to sink himself more into your finger. “M-My love, please… I need you… inside me,” You could tell he was embarrassed, but you could also tell how much he liked it. A fiery desire was growing in his crimson eyes and it made you hunger more and more for him.

“Of course, my love. Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?” You said sweetly as you pushed your finger inside him further, nice and slow. Soon enough your finger was all the way inside of him. He stretched so nicely around you, and you couldn’t help but wonder how much he could take… You supposed you would find out soon enough.

You reached underneath him with your free hand and took his cock in it, starting to slowly jerk him off. You moved your finger at the same pace; nice and slow. His breath quickened and he buried his face in the pillow, moaning out loudly. “Gods, yes!” He cried out. “Please, darling… More,”

Fuck…

The way he begged for more grasped something in you, a side of you that you didn’t even know you had. Your pace quickened, making sure to curl the finger inside of him to reach his special spot.

“Want another one?” You asked, reaching over to give the small of his back a small kiss, making sure not to touch the scar on his back. He nodded eagerly. “Yes, darling. Please,” He replied, frustration filling his voice. You pulled out just enough to line your middle finger up along with your index. You made sure to add some extra lube before slowly pushing the two fingers inside, once again waiting a moment to let him stretch around you.

Suddenly he let out a loud groan of frustration and started to move his hips into your fingers, fucking himself. You were slightly taken aback at this, but decided to take this moment to show who was in power here. You grabbed his hip and kept him still while you started to pump your dexterous fingers in and out of him.

He gripped the bed sheets tightly as he whimpered and shook with pleasure. He never knew he could feel anything like this before, and the fact that you were the one doing it made it that much better. Soon enough he could feel his orgasm slowly approaching.You could feel this as well, as his hole and cock were twitching violently. You slowly withdrew your fingers and got off the bed. He whined loudly in protest.

“D-Darling this is torture… Please just let me-“ His words were cut off as he saw you grab something from the nightstand; a double sided toy with a strap. It wasn’t too thick, or too long, but it was perfect to fit inside both of you easily. The strap was to keep it from slipping, which could very well easily happen since you were so wet. He bit his lip at the sight and smirked up at you. “Mmh, I’m excited for this,” He purred. You smirked back at him and gave him a hungry kiss, flipping him onto his back.

You quickly stripped your clothes and fastened the strap on, making sure it was nice and tight so it didn’t fall off. You got between his legs and generously lined the tip of the toy. You lined it up with his hole, as well as your own on the other side.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” You asked, petting his inner thigh gently with your free hand. He let out a small nervous breath and waited a moment. Soon enough he nodded, looking up at you with half hooded eyes.

“Please… Fuck me, darling.”

That was all the encouragement you needed. You slowly pushed the toy inside both of you. You both let out a loud long moan. Astarion took the toy surprisingly well, especially since he only had two fingers inside before. Regardless, you still waited to move so he could get used to the size of it, which was exactly what he did for you your first time.

His legs shook in excitement and his cock was twitching violently, leaking precum. It was truly a sight to behold… You looked into his eyes hungrily, silently asking for permission to move. He gripped your hips and pulled you into him, making you both gasp in pleasure. You placed your hands on his hips and took hold of them, slowly rolling your hips inside of him. Your side of the toy was angled just right, so every thrust pushed the toy up and against your g spot.

Astarion whimpered softly and reached down to his cock, taking a hold of it and stroking it slowly as you fucked him deeper. You knew he wouldn’t last long like this, especially after being denied his orgasm twice now.

Hmph, showed him. He does it to you all the time.

You decided to show mercy, finally, and rolled your hips faster and deeper, starting to feel your orgasm approaching too. Your core was on fire, seeing him so helpless under you set fire to your blood. You leaned down and locked him in a deep kiss. He whined helplessly into your mouth, gripping the back of your head with his free hand. He broke the kiss briefly to speak.

“M-My sweet, may I come? Please will you let me come this time?” His pleas were adorable, and it only made you pick your speed up even more, your hips now clapping against his. You moaned loudly and nodded.

“Yes, come with me. Be a good boy and come with me.”

His cries crescendoed as he came closer and closer. You lifted him slightly so you could get even deeper inside, and with one more thrust, you both came undone. Pleasure shook through you both like an earthquake. Your come covered the sheets underneath you and Astarion’s shot all the way up to his chest, some even reaching his jaw. He always was a shooter…

After you both came down from your highs you looked at each other, both of you breathing heavily. You were both stunned at how amazing that was. It was like nothing either of you have ever experienced before. It was surreal…

You were the first one to split the silence. “That was…” Astarion finished your sentence. “Amazing,” He chuckled, chest still heaving. You smiled and pressed a small kiss to his forehead. “Would you like to bathe with me, my love?” You asked, slowly pulling the toy out of both of you. He smiled and cupped your cheek. “Darling, there is nothing I’d like more.” He purred.

You grinned and leaned into his touch and reached out to run your fingers through his hair.

“Good boy.”

authors note: this is probably the hardest fic i’ve ever written… i’ve never written a submissive male before so if it’s not accurate or if some things said don’t match up to astarion’s character i’m sorry! also the tags are a bit different from my original teaser post, again sorry about that but i really really hope you all enjoyed!

taglist: @preparedfruit @my-horniness-is-okay

#astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #sub!astarion #sub!astarion x reader #18+ mdni

[olsenmyolsen]

Ever Since Natasha Saw You (18+)

master list

dark master list

Post Black Widow Dark!Natasha Romanoff (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: She was a hero. But to her, YOU were so much more.

Word Count: 6.1K

Content: Dub-Con, Obsession, Kidnapping, Stalking, Blood, Knife, Knifeplay, Mommy Kink, Feelings, Trauma, Death,

The Black Widow hid a secret.

She was in love with you. Sounds pretty innocent... right?

"Night Y/N!" Your coworker Daisy called out as you were still typing at your computer. It was Friday night, and everyone but you was already leaving. Leaving to be free of the thoughts of work for at least the weekend.

You had a marketing job in downtown Manhattan. Skyscraper. Cubicle. Long nights. That kind of job.

You liked it, honestly.

Sure, New York and the surrounding areas were dangerous. Hell, at times. But you had heroes and vigilantes to save you. You had first-hand experience in 2012 when you and your Dad were saved while out at your "I made it through University without killing myself" lunch.

Now, here you were 4 years later. Still in the city while your Dad left. But that was fine. Being on your own has been exemplary. Sure, you have some friends... coworkers, really. You went on dates! I mean, they didn't lead to much more. But you were going through life.

A cat! You have a cat. An orange tabby who only loves you for food...

Anyways! You were fine and finishing up work on your computer when a pop-up of World News showed up in the top right-hand corner of your screen.

What's New 3 Weeks After The Fall Of A Secret Organization Hiding In The Sky? Russia and the U.S. Remain Quiet.

You heard about the debris and strange things found over on that side of the world earlier this month. With that came the theories.

You rolled your eyes at most. But some were fun. Like aliens was a popular one. People online said it was a crashed group of green-shape-shifting aliens. Your coworker Lindsey swore by another that claimed it was a giant purple guy who crashed on Earth.

Yeah, that'll be the day.

You even had a friend of a friend named Darcy who said an Avenger was present to what happened, leaving you curious.

The Avengers, as far as you were concerned, were in trouble. Rumblings, sightings, and videos of two sides of the superhero group fighting at a German airport left many to speculate that this was the end. Plus, this coming weeks after what happened in Lagos and the murder of King T'Chaka made it all the more plausible.

So, if the rumor was confirmed that an Avenger was at the collapse of what many were confused about, it was... interesting.

But you couldn't dwell on that. You shook your head and closed out of the news to finish up your projected cost for the next wave of Roxxon Marketing.

_

As you walked out of your office building, you were unaware you were being followed.

It wasn't the first time you had been followed. Fuck it wasn't even the fiftieth time it had happened, but still you remained clueless. She thought it was cute at first how unaware of your surroundings you were. It always made her smile.

Because in one second, an innocent and pretty thing like you could be gone.

But she wouldn't let that happen.

Not by anyone else, at least.

You have to understand. She was your protector. Yeah.. Yeah, that's right! The one to make sure you got home safe. The one to take care of threats no matter how minuscule they might be. She also made sure no one got too close or even dared to ask you out.

You couldn't date. That would be unfair and very hurtful to the one who... watched over you...

I mean, you never wondered why suddenly Dennis never showed back up to work after asking you out to lunch, now did you?

Rumor was his family got sick, and he had to skip town. But we know about rumors now, don't we? I.E., purple aliens. Green shapeshifting ones. You get it.

Oh. Also. What happened to Dennis, you may ask?

I'll let you know when his body turns up.

However, all of this is to say that you were lucky Natasha Romanoff picked you.

She was back after being gone, having to deal with some family business. But she was back! For you! Natasha thought you should be grateful. She could be- SHOULD BE on the run right now, but here she was twenty feet behind you.

After tonight, you were going to know precisely who she was.

Natasha smiled as she followed you. She laughed as she saw how cautious you were of people even when you're on your phone like you are right now.

However, as cautious as you may be, it leaves you vulnerable. Sweet. Easy.

Natasha thinks you're too nice for your own good sometimes. Like you always see the best in people. It drives Natasha crazy the amount times she has had to stop because you stopped to help someone. A drunk. A homeless man. A- you get it.

As you and Natasha head down into the subway, she appreciates how your route hasn't changed at all since your first day of work many years ago. Yet she can't help but snicker at how you've never noticed her taking that walk with you. But then again, even with how cautious you are, you don't notice things.

You still haven't noticed the tiny cameras Natasha installed in your place. Or the amount of panties she's stolen. Or even the amount of times you've slept with her arms around your body. In addition to the hushed whispers and stolen kisses, she's left on your lips.

On top of that, you haven't noticed her feelings for you.

Natasha moves closer to you as you both are nearing your stop. With a plan in motion, The Black Widow can't help but smile.

Natasha takes another step forward and grabs onto the metal pole in front of herself to stop her movement when you look up and around the car. You stop when your eyes reach Natasha's green ones in a hoodie and jeans. You smile quickly before putting your head down, focusing back on your phone.

What you did just now was polite. You looked from your phone to stretch your neck and smiled at a cute blonde who just so happened to be looking your way.

That's what you thought.

To Natasha, you signaled her out.

With your eyes, you noticed her. After all this time, you did it! On tonight of all nights. It was a sign. It was meant to be!

Natasha smiled and stared at you, unaware.

When you finally got up to get off at your stop, you felt your arm being yanked back. When you stumbled back and turned your head to find a bald man older than your father looking at you like he won a prize, you pulled as hard as possible. But his grip was tight. "Where are you going, sweetheart?" He looked over your body, making you pull again.

How was no one stopping this man? Was no one seeing it? Did no one care?

The train car beeped, signaling the doors were going to be closing, and the man had yet to remove you from his grip. You were about to scream when the blonde woman from before grabbed your other arm, making you shriek in surprise. The woman acted fast and kicked the man in the knee hard enough to break it before rushing the two of you out of the train car just as the doors closed on three other men hitting their first against the door.

You wanted to wave them bye and flick them off, but your arm hurt. Not the one the man held.. But... but your other one. The one the woman held as she saved you.

"You, alright?" The blonde had a raspy voice as she spoke. It sounded familiar, but as you quickly scanned her face, you declared she must have that kind of face. (as if) But her eyes. Her eyes were one of a kind. Beautiful and a shimmering green you wanted to get lost in.

So lost that you almost forgot about the arm pain and the dizziness you were starting to feel...

"Yeah." You nodded to the blonde who had yet to release your arm. "I'm fine."

This was a lie, and Natasha, of course, knew that. I mean, she was the one wearing the ring that, with one turn of the gemstone, revealed a tiny needle. One that the blonde used to inject your arm with a sleeping agent.

"Are you sure?" The woman smiled as she asked you. Why was she smiling? You went to nod that you were indeed fine but found yourself more tired. Weaker even. "Oh, honey, you don't look so good."

Natasha smiled as she felt your body losing the fight. Natasha quickly looked around before wrapping your arm around her shoulder to make it appear as if you were a drunk friend who needed help getting home.

"Oh, Y/N, it looks like that guy must have really done something, huh?"

The guy in the group of men that she paid off.

Your mind was becoming black as your body went limp, and before you could ask her how she knew your name or who the hell she was, you took one last look at the blonde.

This time, you recognized who she was.

You went to speak but slurred your words as you closed your eyes, passing out in Natasha Romanoff's arms.

_

Getting you home was easy.

As Natasha unlocked your front door, she smiled, pulling you closer as you entered through the threshold between the hallway and your apartment. Natasha smiled wider as she looked around at what would become her place with you before looking at your limp, unconscious body. "We're home!"

Home was with you.

With a kick to the door, it closed behind you two as she hurried you to your room.

Once inside, Natasha was happy to find that not much, if anything, had changed since she last visited. She said hi to your cat, who purred at the sight of the blonde.

Natasha loved your cat and couldn't wait to be a good cat mom.

Natasha took you and gently placed you on the bed before looking around the room. She was looking for something. Natasha closed the bedroom door and went back, kicking the floorboard to the right of your end table, and up it flipped. She bent down and pulled out a small black backpack she stored two years ago.

Opening it up to make sure everything was still there. She knew you probably didn't even know that it existed. (You hadn't.) But Natasha had to be sure.

Dumping out the bag's contents, she was happy to see that nothing was missing. But she still took inventory. 5 Widow Bites. 1 Pistol. 12 Bullets. 1 Set of Handcuffs. 1 Knife. 3 Needles of the Sleeping Agent. 1 Burner Phone.

Finally, 2 very dry Nutri-Grain Bar.

Natasha kept the loaded gun, knife, and handcuffs out of the bag and placed it on the desk in the corner of your room. The bag moved to the edge of the bed—no point in hiding it now.

"Oh, Y/N!" Natasha sat next to your upper body, passed out on the bed. She spoke as her soft hand ran through your hair. It calmed Natasha. "You're so pretty, Y/N."

Natasha looked over your still-covered body before moving her hand down your back. "Here. Come on." She flipped you over onto your back and pulled you more onto the bed.

Natasha's eyes found your face. "Baby, I can't wait for the rest of our lives." Natasha bit her lip as she spoke to you. Hopefully, and giddy for the future. "We're going to be so happy." Natasha leaned down and planted a kiss at the top of your head. "You still smell like coconut. I still don't really like that shampoo, but I know how much you do." Natasha smiled as if this was a normal conversation before giving you another kiss. Just as one of her hands began to snake its way across your stomach before landing at your hip.

"I love you."

Natasha couldn't help herself. She smiled brightly as she said those words out loud to you for the first time.

Natasha's lips found the side of your face again and again. She always loved how soft you felt against her. Delicate. Like something Natasha wanted to cherish. Keep perfect. Forever.

But there was also that part inside of her. The side of Natasha that wanted to own you. Take that softness and fuck it out of you. Damage you. Hurt you.

Both were fighting for control.

Regardless, Natasha slid down the zipper of your unbuttoned jeans and slipped her hand over your black cotton panties. Moaning as her stomach flipped in the joys of touching you, feeling your heat on her fingers. Letting excitement wave over her, she cupped your pussy before dragging her index finger up over your growing wet-covered folds. "Oh fuck, baby!" Natasha moaned before looking at the side of your face.

Natasha smiles to herself. She leans over and kisses your cheek, and quickly removes her hand from your recently shaved pussy.

Natasha licks the little slick on her fingers off.

Natasha savored the taste before she laid flat on her back. Lifting her ass as she tore off the black jeans she was wearing along with her red panties. Choosing to keep her slightly raised pullover hoodie on, Natasha grabbed your left wrist. "I want you to feel me..." Natasha looked over and spoke to you. "I want you to feel how wet you make me, Y/N! How tight I am for you. I've been waiting."

With that, Natasha kept her eyes on your left hand as she moved it down her toned stomach. The tips of your fingers brushing over her skin, making her squirm in anticipation for what's to come.

Moving them further down, Natasha gasps as your hand gets pushed down onto the top of Natasha's bare pussy. "This is for you." She moans as she pushed your hand further down. Directing your middle and ring finger to her clit. "Oh fuck!" She moans and grows wetter at your unconscious touch.

"Keep going. Keep going!" Natasha directs your fingers to move in a circular motion. Before her mouth drops as your fingers get pushed over The Black Widows dripping pussy. She moans and grips your hand. "Right there." Natasha moves your fingers around her opening for you.

"It's for you, baby. Come on. I want you to fuck me!" She gives your hand one more push and bucks when your fingers easily slide into her. Natasha loudly moans while her left hand grips the comforter of the bed.

Your fingers feel perfect inside of her.

Natasha can't get over that.

She thinks you were made for her.

Slowly, Natasha starts to move herself against your fingers. Her hips working overtime. Only using her right hand to position your hand better. "Oh my God!" Natasha smiles as a shaky breath comes out. You're doing this to her. You're making her feel this good. You're fucking her right.

Natasha is rocking her hips up and down your slick fingers. You're pushing her closer and closer. "Oh god!" She grunts as she slams the back of your hand to feel you deeper, indirectly slapping her pussy and clit that, sends a wave of pain that morphs into pleasure. "Oh yes!"

Natasha does it repeatedly while her left-hand works on her clit. Her middle fingers pushes the bud of it up as she continues her circular motion. "That's it, baby! Make me cum! Make me fucking cum!" She turns her head to you and stares at your unconscious body. "You're doing so well, baby."

If you were awake right now, you'd feel Natasha's wetness run down your fingers. Into your palms. And down your wrist. You'd hear her moans and screams of pleasure as she makes herself cum with your fingers. "Oh my God!" Natasha Romanoff jolts up. "Y/N, I'm cumming! I'm cumming! Oh fuck! Oh, fuck, baby.."

Natasha rides her orgasm out and smiles when she falls back onto the bed. She turns and looks at your body. "You made me feel so good."

You're perfect.

As she catches her breath, Natasha gently pulls your fingers out and brings them up to her mouth. She marvels at the sight of you now covered in her before she takes her tongue and runs it over your fingers. Enjoying the taste of herself. "I can't wait to taste you." Now that we're together, she forgot to add.

Natasha insets your finger back into her mouth. Loudly sucking on them and moaning before shoving your fingers to the back of her throat, making herself gag on them. She repeats the action.

"Will you let me do that to you?" Natasha says after she's pulled them out and caught her breath. "Hmm?" She licks them again. "Will you gag for me?" She kisses your ring finger and twirls it around. "I wonder..."

Natasha kisses you one more time as she gently places your hand down and moves her body to lay half of it on you. "I wonder what you won't do now that you're mine." She takes your chin in her hand and moves it in her direction. "I can't wait for you to be awake. For us." Natasha deeply kisses your lips as her hand quickly pushes your boobs up. "But first." Natasha releases you and gets up from the bed. She takes off the rest of her clothes and tosses them into your now-shared laundry basket before moving to the desk where her belongings are located.

"I need to take care of a few things."

_

Slowly, your body starts to stir awake.

You go to move to your side but wince when you land on your arm. You are unsure why it hurts, but you are too stiff and tired to worry about that right now. But for some reason, since you're awakening, your body isn't going back to sleep.

Silent bells are ringing in your head, but you don't know they're there.

You groan and manage to flip your body onto its stomach. This position feels terrific, especially since you feel the coolness of the bedsheet against your body. You snuggle your face into your pillow- your eyes shoot open.

You don't remember coming home...

You open your eyes wider and take a look around the room. It's your room. You're relieved to see that but grow more worried at your nonexistent memory of getting home.

Plus, it looks like things around the room are off... you turn your tired back against the mattress and find yourself surprised to have another person in the room.

A blonde-haired woman wearing one of your college sweatshirts looking through one of your old journals... Once again, the alarm in your head is not alerting you. It's distant and faded.

"That's my shirt..?" Your groggy voice makes the woman look up with a smile.

To you, the woman's smile looks like a kid on Christmas morning.

To Natasha, she's testing out how you're gonna act.

"Hi!" The woman gets up with a glass of water from the chair at your desk. The action reveals to you that it looks like she's not wearing any bottoms, but you can't tell because of the length of her- your sweatshirt. The blonde rounds the bed and carefully gets on her knees before you on the floor. She looks kindly at you as your eyes quickly scan her face and exposed legs. "Nice to see you up." She says to you. Innocently enough. "How are you feeling?" She sweetly asks as she hands you the glass of water.

"I don't- I don't remember..." You say, making the blonde smile wider. "I was walking..." You struggle to come up with anything after that. It's like your mind went blank.

Why couldn't you remember?

You shake your head and take a few sips from the glass before the blonde takes it from you to place on your bedside table—a kind gesture on the outside. But the less you know about the pheromonal powder agent you just ingested, the better.

"Oh, honey..." The blonde lifts and places her hand on yours. The soft contact makes you feel warmer. However, the feeling of this being wrong is still unreachable to you. Natasha smiles when you don't pull away. The drugs from before and now are working. "Those men really did a number on you, huh?"

Men? You think as Natasha watches your face.

"You know you're lucky I was there," Natasha says as she rises from her kneeling position to stand in front of you. Now she towers you, and you feel her legs brush past your own. You don't stop her as she moves closer to you. She raises a hand and pushes some of your hair back. "A man grabbed you and wanted to hurt you, but I was there to stop them. But honey, I think they drugged you..."

Her touch and voice were soothing. She felt and smelled wonderful. You even did your best to not react to the pet name she gave you. "Dru-drugged me?" Once again, the bells should be going off, but Natasha knows exactly what she's doing. "Yeah, I got you off the train, but as we were walking, you started to walk funny. Your face got sleepy." She says this while looking into your eyes. She has her gaze fixated on you, and it pulls you in. "But you were smart." The blonde smiles down at you. "You made sure to tell me where you lived so I could get you home safe." Her raspy voice makes you smile, but her words are making you question if that happened... but you don't remember...

"Are you okay?" She asks as you're thinking. You look back up at her concerned face. "Yeah.. I- I was just trying to remember..." Natasha nods and moves her body in between your legs. Spreading them further apart. "What did you say your name was again?" You ask, making Natasha laugh. "I didn't. Good try, though." She places her hands on your shoulders. She's bold. "What's the matter? You don't trust me?" Something about the way she says it makes you feel sick and guilty for even thinking that you didn't trust her.

Natasha, of course, knows this.

"No- no, I trust you! I'm sorry!" You reach your hands out and place them on Natasha's covered hips. Natasha smiles at your action while faking a sad sniffle. "My name is Natasha." You look over the blonde and smile.

That's when it clicks.

"Natasha Romanoff." Natasha's frown turns into a smile. "Wow, you know who I am?" She fakes surprise and turns on the innocence. You nod with your mind, unable to think about anything else but her. "Wow! I got saved by The Black Widow."

Natasha watches as you process this faux information. Gosh, you look so cute. "I guess I was lucky, huh?" You look at her, earning a chuckle. "I just didn't want anything to happen to you," Natasha says, warming your heart. "You're too perfect." She adds in a low whisper. Something you catch that makes your brain fuzzy.

However, before you can do or say anything else, Natasha pushes her body closer to you. Carefully, she watches your eyes as she lifts one leg over yours. Placing one knee on the bed next to your hips before doing the same with the other. She smiles down at you as her bare ass finds itself sitting in your lap.

You feel her wet pussy on your tight black bike shorts.

"Is this okay?" She whispers as she brings her face close enough to yours to feel her breath on your ear. You inhale her scent and feel the butterflies in your stomach.

"More than okay, Natasha..." You find yourself saying. The alarms in your head have officially been silenced. You should be asking why she's doing this, why she's still here. You shouldn't be accepting her advances. But yet you aren't questioning her. You accept her actions with a smile.

She smiles back.

"You know..." Natasha leans down and kisses your cheek. "I'll always protect you." You feel a blush on your face when her soft lips touch your skin again. "I've loved you for so long, and now I get to show you." Natasha lifts her face away from you to look at your eyes flutter.

Natasha sees how defenseless you are now.

The drugs have all worked.

"You love me?" You question as you move your hands down from Natasha's hips to her thighs. The touch of her feels cool to your warm hands. You peer into her green eyes and see them sparkle. "For years, I've loved you." She unwraps her arms from around you and places them on your hands. She moves them up from her thighs to under what used to be your shirt. You feel the bend of her hips and the softness of the sides of her body as your fingertips brush past their way to her nipples.

She pushes your hand to grope her boobs.

"For years, I've wanted you, and now I have you. Don't I?"

Natasha slowly moves her hips back and forth, sending a wave of pleasure through her body as her wet clit brushes up and down the end seam of your bike shorts. She moans and whimpers while looking at you, waiting for an answer. "Don't I, Y/N?!" You push and pull her boobs as you look at Natasha Romanoff acting like a slut for you. "Yes. Yes, Natasha! You have me!"

"I'm yours!" You wanted to scream.

"Good girl." She whispers as she leans down and kisses you again and again. Her tongue pushing its way into your mouth. The taste of her is salvia is electrifying. The pleasure you feel makes you moan into her mouth. Natasha smirks as you push yourself deeper and closer to The Black Widow.

Natasha reaches down as you two fall onto the bed to places her hand in the middle of your bike shorts. She begins rubbing your core up and down as her hand pushes your legs open. "Come on, baby. Open up for me."

You nod with your eyes closed and feel Natasha's fingers slow down in speed as she now gently brushes her fingers past your wet clit seeping through the shorts.

Each time she touches it, you jump.

And then. Natasha pulls her hands away from you: nothing but the cool air touching the wet spot on your shorts. You feel needy and frustrated. You open your eyes to see Natasha on her knees, lifting her shirt off her body. Her blonde hair falls back into place right above her shoulder.

She smiles at you and watches as you take her in.

You feel your mouth become dry as you look up at Natasha's toned stomach. A set of abs staring at you. You move from her perfect breast and hard pink nipples to her shoulders and biceps. The definition in her arms makes you close your mouth to hold in a noise that would've been embarrassing.

You look up at her neck—a smile when you see a cute mole that was previously hidden. Finally, you bring your eyes to her face and the smirk on her lips.

"Can I take these off?" Natasha points down to your bike shorts. You nod, making Natasha internally laugh. The shorts were coming off no matter what your answer was.

You pull your head from Natasaba's gaze and watch as Natasha's left hand goes to the bottom seam of your shorts and lifts them up from your body.

Once again, her touch makes your skin flush with pleasure. It's as if you're addicted to her and her touch.

Natasha pulls her right arm from behind herself, and that's when you drop your mouth. "Na-natasha, what's that?"

"Did I say you can speak?"

You sit stunned as the knife in her hand comes closer to your body. You weren't aware that you couldn't speak unless spoken to, but... di- did Natasha expect that of you? Did she tell you, and you just forgot?

"Look at me." She sternly asks of you. "Not at the knife but at me." The movement of the knife doesn't stop when you pull your eyes to Natasha and her beautiful green ones. "What did I say earlier?" She asks. "Think real hard and then answer me, okay." Her eyes leave you as she focuses on the blade, meeting the bottom seam of your shorts. You keep your eyes on Natasha's face and hear the ripping sound of your shorts as she goes further and further up.

She stops at your hip close to the top seam when you decide to speak up.

"That you'll always protect me." Natasha smiles wide. You listened and answered her perfectly. Natasha smiles and can't help herself when she leans in and kisses you. "Good job." She says with care dripping from her lips. "What else did I say?"

"That you love me."

Natasha nods. "I do love you." She leans in and, with the knife still in her left hand, drags up the rest of the way. Her lips touch yours at the same time the blade cuts through your shorts.

Immediately, Natasha tosses the knife off the bed. It clatters on the floor, making you jump into Natasha's lips again. "Sorry." You say when she backs away. "It's okay." The blonde tells you. "As long as you know that I would never hurt you, right?"

"Right." You agree easily.

Natasha smiles as she pulls at the fabric resting on your pussy. The coating sticks to you as she pulls it further away until the string of wetness breaks mid-air. Falling back onto your thigh. "Did Mommy make you feel this way?"

She knows that she did.

But she wants to hear you say it.

"Yes." Natasha brings her fingers back to where they belong. "Yes, what?" She glides her middle finger over your pink mound. You moan and shudder.

"Yes, Mommy."

_

Natasha should've left soon after that night. But she couldn't bring herself to do it.

She knew her friends needed her help, but she couldn't leave you. She finally had you, and you had her. Why would she want to jeopardize that?

So as, the days turned into weeks to months to years. Natasha felt the pressure to run continue to build.

In contrast, as the days turned into weeks to months to years. You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper in love with the one who saved you. The Black Widow. The cute blonde hero who made you breakfast in bed. The woman who stayed with you. The one who whispered sweet nothings into your ear every night as you drifted asleep. The woman who saved the world repeatedly could now be there for you.

Natasha even let it be known that you didn't have to work anymore. She had an array of offshore accounts and wanted to spoil you, and you, in turn, let her.

You blushed when she looked your way and never got tired of seeing her smile. A goddess herself sculpted her body, and Natasha happily made sure you came for her. Only her.

"Hey, what's going on?"

You walked out of your and Natasha's bedroom after finding the bed empty to see her in the living room going over her weaponry. Something you didn't like, but you trusted Natasha with them. Knowing she would never harm you.

It was early afternoon, and after your morning trip to the farmers market, followed by some light grocery shopping, you came home to Natasha, waiting with some brunch and a board game.

You took a nap after that, and while you slept, Natasha made her decision.

"They need me."

You knew who Natasha was talking about. It wasn't a secret that you were dating Natasha Romanoff. Well, it was a secret to everyone else. But you get my point. You were dating a fugitive labeled that by the United Nations on account of the Sokovian Accords—an ex-Avenger who still wanted to help.

"What if I don't want you to go." You asked with hurt in your voice. You finally had the love of your life. Someone you weren't even looking for, and now she wanted to go?

"Baby..." She put her gun on the coffee table and made her way to you. Wrapping her arms around you as you wrapped around her body. "I don't want to go..." A white lie, considering her little weekend-avenging trips from time to time weren't enough. "But I have to. To protect us. To protect you." The truth.

"Rogers needs me. Plus, with Vision and Wanda running around trying to be a normal couple again. He really needs the help."

You nodded into Natasha's shoulder. You hated that she was right. "How long?" Natasha sighed. She really didn't know how long it would be.

"Give me two weeks, and I'll be back."

You deflated, and your heart formed cracks. You didn't want her to leave, and you didn't want her to go for that long!

Natasha started kissing your head and rubbing your back, and you didn't understand why until you felt the tears leaving your eyes. You were crying.

Natasha hated it. She hated hearing how heartbroken you were. But at the same time, she loved it. You were hers. And she was yours.

"I love you Y/N. I'll be back before you know it."

"I love you, Natty. Please be careful."

_

Natasha wasn't even gone for two weeks. In fact, her time with Captain and Birdboy lasted a mere pair of days.

On day 3, Vision turned off his transponder.

Within 48 hours, half of everything was dust.

When Natasha found the others at the corpse of the synthezoid. Two people ran through Natasha's mind.

Yelena.

And you.

_

"Y/N!"

Natasha screamed as she busted open the door to your shared space. She threw her useless phone onto the counter as she ran through the living room, still in her uniform. Passing by the TV that sat on the emergency broadcast. "Y/N!" She called out again as she stopped at the bedroom door. "Please be here. Please be alive.."

Natasha had tears in her eyes as she slowly opened the bedroom door. Her breath left her lips in a gasp before she blinked away tears that were escaping. She carefully made her way to the bed and sat down.

You turned over as you felt the bed shift. Then you opened your eyes when you felt Natasha's presence. "Natasha? Natasha!" You sprung up from the bed and collided into her body.

You both wept as the relief flooded your combined emotions. "You're alive..." Natasha whispered into your head before inhaling.

She grew to love your shampoo.

"I miss you." You said. "Don't worry, Detka. I'm here. I'm here." Natasha kissed the side of your head before leaning back and kissing your mouth.

God, she missed your lips and the softness of your cheeks as you tried to hide your blush.

"I miss you." You repeated, confusing Natasha.

"Babe?" She pulled back and held your head in her hands. Her green eyes scanned your beautiful face and saw nothing wrong until a speck of dust flew off your nose. "No.." Natasha whispered with pain. "Y/N." She kept your face in her hands as little by little. You ceased to exist. "Y/N!" Her hands started to be covered.

"I miss you."

"Y/N, please no! No! Please!"

"I miss-" "Stop it!" "Nata-"

"No!" She screamed and screamed as you vanished until she woke up thrashing in her bed at the compound. Alone. Gun drawn and ready...

"Whatever it takes..." Whispered by you... Is this the last thing Natasha always heard when she woke up from her nightmares..

Natasha looks around the room with bags under her red, dried eyes and chapped lips. She struggles every day to live. She hates herself for leaving.

She hates that the last thing you told her was, "be careful."

She is hurt. Alone. Scared.

She misses you.

Every day, she tries and uses her resources to find a way to bring everyone back. But so far, she's always coming up empty-handed.

The worst part is, is that even after three years of you being gone. Natasha never told anyone. You were a secret to everyone else.

But to Natasha, you were everything.

dividers by @/benkeibear & @/firefly-graphics

#dark natasha romanoff #dark!natasha romanoff #dark natasha x reader #dark!natasha x reader #dark!natasha x femaler reader #tw stalking #tw knife #tw knifeplay #black widow imagine #black widow x reader #post black widow #tw obsession #tw obsessive behavior #you have an orange cat #natahsa romanoff #mommy natasha #mommy k!nk #mommy k1nk #character death #dark one shot #one shot #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff smut #dark natasha romanoff smut #dark!fic

[sirenologyyy]

RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK!

neteyam x fem!metkayina reader

✧ summary : a certain sully boy can't admit he's smitten by one of the daughters of the olo'eyktan, but why would he? he's calculated and discerning and she's everything he wished he was.

✧ warnings : swearing (that's pretty much it LMAO)

✧ author's note : neteyam's 15, reader is older than tsireya by a year or so, some much needed lo'ak and neteyam brotherly bonding (after the trauma inducing hellscape that was atwow), lo'ak talking like a regular teenage boy, and in honor of it being December again, may i present to you, a neteyam fic that has been rotting in my drafts since April 🤩

A gravelly groan escapes your lips as your hands managed to shield your face, almost to hide yourself from the undisputable truth that you, along with your Tsireya, and your older brother Ao'nung had been roped into the evident mess that was to teach the children of Toruk Makto the ways of the Metkayina.

You weren't as prejudiced as Ao'nung, sneering at the Sully children whenever he'd run into them, so meticulously influenced by your mother's dislike towards Skypeople, let alone the Omaticaya.

You weren't as welcoming as your younger sister, who had greeted them with big grins that only further accentuated her dimples and her devout willingness to help Toruk Makto's family in any way she could. While you had resorted to mirthless smiles and polite nods whenever you'd come across one of them, it was unnatural, yes, Ao'nung was quite unfair with his treatment towards them, yes, but Tsireya's overall cheer and joviality was something you could not for the life of you reciprocate.

You were fine with them being here, although you couldn't say the same for most of your people.

The only real thorn in your side was the oldest.

Neteyam.

Oh how your blood boiled whenever you'd spot him in the crowd. Always so eager to help, so eager to please, so perfect, so good, it made you want to punch the living daylights out of him... Well, only slightly, that may be an exaggeration. Your hate for him might be particularly irrational but valid in all the worst ways.

"Can't you tell them I've been bitten by something?"

"No" Tsireya snorts.

"I've slipped collecting coconuts and dislocated my ankle"

"Stop moving so much sister, or I will mess up your hair"

It was like he was so anxious about keeping up the golden boy facade, what a show off, you thought. Going out of his way to help any way he could, helping carry baskets of dried fish across the village, pushing heavy boats off to sea, weaving baskets, seeing to the ilus, even the tsuraks at one point. It infuriated you. What did he had to gain?

If there was one thing you despised, it was try-hards.

And Neteyam Sully was the bane of your existence.

"Oh!" You had exclaimed, snapping your fingers. "You can tell them I have fallen off my ilu and got ripped apart by an akula"

Tsireya laughed. "Yes, like they would believe me"

With another scoff, you stare st your sister through the mirror, so engrossed in the braiding technique you'd requested for her to do on your hair. "I don't see why you're bringing me into your affairs sister, it is clear as day you only want to help out the Forest People because you like the way that boy kept looking at you yesterday"

Tsireya tugs at your half-finished braid, making you swear and rub at your head, bringing Tsireya some amusement out of this. "Now, be quiet, be still, let me do my job"

With a sour mood, you allow Tsireya to thread the shells you requested she put in, sitting up straighter. "Your job in being an absolute bitch?"

Tsireya sighs again, feeling her slump in frustration behind you. "Do you think it is so easy a job for me to constantly deal with your attitude?"

A smirk comes to your face as Tsireya knots your braid off. "Don't worry, all your efforts will be seen by Eywa, she might even make the boy tell you your hair looks nice today"

"Enough, Y/N" Tsireya says, standing up from her seat.

You stood as well, hooking your arm around Tsireya's as you left your pod. "Oh let me have my fun"

A dozen morbid thoughts suddenly flood Tsireya's mind. "If we do that I am afraid there will be nothing left of Awa'atlu when you are finished"

When you arrive, you immediately spot both the brothers sitting on the edge of the woven platform, their long legs dangling just above the water. They looked to be so immersed in a conversation that neither of them noticed you or Tsireya approach them, only when they were about 4 feet apart was when you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

"Oh great mother, is it just the two of you?" Says you, making both the boys stand up like springs.

"No, our sisters are coming, they aren't exactly good at being early to things" says the younger one, his eyes flicking to Tsireya every now and then, making you dizzy trying to hold eye contact with the boy.

"Hey Tsireya" He finally says, nodding at her sister who laughs again. It took everything in you not to start dry-heaving in front of them.

"Why do you sound so disappointed?" Neteyam wonders, another smirk playing at his thin lips as he looks at you.

Your forehead creases. "I am nothing of the sort, what about you? What has gotten you so chipper?"

"Nothing all that special, really" He replied, not even convincing himself.

You heftily exhaled through your nose, moving away from the group and walking up on the platform, taking one of the seaweed bands on your arm to bunch your hair up just to get it out of your face. Once you'd pull your hair through the band the final time, you turned around just to see Neteyam's head turn away, almost like it was a chain reaction.

You placed your hands over the dip of your hips, facing the odd group. "Now, where has our dear brother wandered off to? It's almost noon and he is nowhere in sight"

This makes the rest of them look around for Ao'nung, even the two brothers who you'd assumed wanted nothing to do with him after your brother had showed his blatant contempt towards them after he'd ridiculed them during their arrival.

"He must still be with Rotxo and the others, we must be patient" says Tsireya.

Your mind remained closed, throwing your hands up in the air only for them to land on her hips with a thwack. "We both know Ao'nung does not move like the tide, he is too stubborn, too hard in the head " you found yourself saying, prodding a finger at your forehead.

"Patience, sister" Tsireya admonishes calmly, making her way towards you as you placed your hands on the identation of your woven skirt. "We must not rush things, we allow things to come to us at their own pace"

"Alright, alright" you tell her half-heartedly.

"Hey! Sorry, are we late?"

You turn her head to spot the two Sully sisters jogging up to the beach, the youngest out of all of them went straight for Neteyam, watching as he scooped her up with no hesitation. "Where in Eywa's name were you two?" Neteyam wonders, eyeing his sisters curiously.

The older girl rolled her eyes, pointing her chin at the youngest. "Couldn't decide on which skirt she wanted to wear"

The little girl pouts. "I didn't know which one I wanted!" She protested, her ears drooping down.

"She had two to choose from" the older sister groaned. Eyes finding yours as her grin widens, you chuckle to yourselves, having sisters was never a dull moment.

You two had bonded over that when you first helped her with her chores, although she seemed reluctant at first she accepted. Neither of you got anything done as you both found that snacking on dried seaweed and exchanging stories about your lives proved to be more fun.

"Maybe he isn't coming" says Neteyam's younger brother, subtly inching towards Tsireya while keeping everyone under the impression that he was trying to find Ao'nung just like she was, but in truth, all he wanted was to stand beside her. Tsireya didn't pick up on it at all, being the oblivious person she was, but Neteyam did, quietly chuckling to himself as he puts Tuk down, watching as she sprints towards the sand at full speed.

You shook your head at the sound of Tsireya's giggles and walks off the diving platform as well, making your way towards the beach to stretch your legs, walking along the coastline trying to kill time. That is until something tugs at your skirt, you turned around to see who it was but then looks down to see Neteyam's youngest sister, proudly holding a small conch shell in her hands, beaming up at you.

"They look just like the ones in your hair!" She exclaimed, a gigantic grin spreading across her face as you crouched to her level, taking the shell from her hands to study it. "It's a light purple, you don't have any purple shells yet"

"You're right, I don't have any purple shells in my hair yet do I?" You say in genuine amazement, holding it up against the sun, feeling the little girl scoot closer to you, but the shell had suddenly started to sprout 6 legs and you dropped it, startled by the animal and by the little girl's scream, you watch as it scurries back into the water, gone forever.

You turned back to the little girl who was visibly upset, another frown slowly forming on her face before you placed your hands on the little girl's shoulders. "Hey, we'll find another one around here somewhere, don't be upset"

She huffed, her shoulders rising and falling. "I didn't know there was something inside it, I really didn't"

You shook your head. "Neither did I, we both didn't know" you assured the younger girl, cupping her round face as her frown slowly started to shift into a smile. "Look, if we need to do this properly and find shells for my hair, I'm gunna need to know your name"

"Tuk!" She says. "My name's Tuk!"

"It's very nice to meet you Tuk"

"Really?" She giggled as you nodded. "What about you? What's your name?"

You beckoned her closer with a simple gesture of your fingers as you whispered your name into her ear.

"You've got a very pretty name" Tuk whispers as well, hiding her face behind her hands as she giggled.

"So do you" You had whispered all the same.

Tuk then looks back at the diving platform, and then back at you. "Y'know I think my brother is staring at you"

"Oh yeah? Why do you think that is so?"

The little girl scratches her head. "I don't know, he only stares at things he thinks looks nice or looks weird"

You grinned. "Does your brother think I look nice or weird?"

Tuk blinks. "I don't think you look weird"

"Would he think that?" Ka'leia emphasized.

"Probably" Tuk replies honestly, looking back at the diving platform again. "Why else does he keep staring at you?"

It made you think, it made your mind spiral into the bottomless void of memories in which you had caught a pair of warm amber eyes catch yours, and every time you did it made your heart stutter, however unfortunate it may be. "I'm not so sure either"

"Neteyam's weird" Tuk deduced.

You snort. "Yeah, he's weird"

Silence settles between you, but not for long as Tuk takes your hand and pulls you up. "Can we go and find shells now? Then we can put them in your hair! Then you'll look pretty!"

"Am I not pretty now?"

"No, not really" says Tuk, swinging your interlocked arms back and forth as her wide eyes scanned the sand.

"No?" You wonder almost scandalised, "alright " you nod.

You and Tuk spent a good couple of minutes digging holes on the beach to fish out the shells that had been buried underneath the sand, conch shells, shards of shells, fossils, rocks, bits and pieces of coral, if it was pretty enough for Tuk's standards she's adding it to her pile.

5 minutes later you're following her around with an armful of tiny shells, half the beach full of holes from Tuk and her makeshift shovel that had originally been a branch, with her screaming in delight when she's spotted another one, hurriedly running to you to add it in with the rest.

Lo'ak abruptly places his hands on Neteyam's shoulders, purposefully trying to scare him but Neteyam does not flinch at all. "Yo bro, you got a staring problem or something?" He wonders in English, stepping beside Neteyam to look out into the beach too.

"You done flirting with Tsireya?" Neteyam shot back.

Lo'ak huffed. "Pfft, me? Tsireya?"

"I know your tell, your tail's a dead giveaway"

Lo'ak laughs, punching Neteyam's shoulder, finally making the older boy turn to face him. "Yo! Shut your ass up!"

Neteyam chuckles. "No one else here understands English bro, we're fine!"

Lo'ak shook his head. "I'm not worried about the Metkayina, I'm worried about that devil right there" He says, pointing at the beach.

Neteyam looks at the direction where Lo'ak was pointing. "Who? Tuk?

"She's got spot on hearing, incredible memory," Lo'ak listed. "If I'd have known how much of a tattletail she'd be I'd have abandoned her in the forest when she was a baby"

Neteyam frowns, laughing. "Yes, and when I'd get home I'd find your extra finger in my stew"

Lo'ak grimaces, almost gagging as Neteyam wiggles one of his fingers at him. "Disgusting!"

Neteyam cackles loudly, watching as Lo'ak covered his mouth. "You're overreacting!" He tells him.

"Nah bro, you don't get to fill my mind with those kinda thoughts" Lo'ak says.

Neteyam places a hand on his back. "Face it baby bro, i'm in your head"

Lo'ak pushes it away, chuckling. "Lay off!"

"Will you two ever go a day without fighting eachother?" Kiri asks, giving them a look.

"Not sure" says Lo'ak. "But I wouldn't hold my breath"

Kiri rolled her eyes and Lo'ak turns to Neteyam again. "If Ao'nung isn't coming then we might as well fetch him, if you catch my drift"

Neteyam shakes his head, his braids swishing from side to side. "No, we will do no such thing"

Lo'ak half shrugs, already moving away. "Fine, if you won't then I will"

Neteyam grabs his arm, stopping his brother in his tracks. "Hey, what did dad say?"

He pretends to think. "Not sure, something about you being the next poster boy of the clan?"

Neteyam flicks a finger on Lo'ak's forehead, making the younger boy hiss. "No, you skxawng, he wants us to be on our best behavior, and I don't want to be stopping you from pulling another shitty stunt that'll get you in trouble"

"Fine" Lo'ak says. "I'll go check up on Tuk," He tells Neteyam unconvincingly, scratching the side of his head. "What's up with you and wanting to stay on the beach?"

Neteyam's jaw tightens. "There's nothing that's keeping me here except my promise to dad"

"Uh-huh" Lo'ak nods, eyes flicking to you and Tuk. "Nothing or no one?"

"I don't know what you're talking about"

Lo'ak frowns, pretending he understood. "She's pretty hot"

Neteyam pays him no mind, only scoffing.

"She still avoiding you?" Lo'ak asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Yes, and I can't seem to find the reason why" Neteyam huffed.

Lo'ak snickers. "Maybe it's cuz you're coming off a little too strong"

"I don't know how else I can get her to talk to me without her insulting every fibre of my being or making up some excuse to leave, I've tried everything" He replies desperately, causing Lo'ak's eyes to go wide, a whistle leaving his mouth. "Damn that bad??? What the hell did you do to her to make you hate her this much?"

Neteyam rakes his face with dread. "I don't know baby bro, but you have no idea what I would do to find out the reason why"

His brother was too down-bad to be saved, Lo'ak knew that much, looking across the beach as he studies you with his little sister. Neteyam looks at his brother, his eyes seemingly trained on you as it flicks up and down, he slaps his brother's arm. "It's rude to stare"

"Yeah, go tell that to them" Says Lo'ak, pointing at a handful of Metkayin boys passing by, giving you stolen glances as they talked amongst themselves, chuckling and hooting.

Neteyam's eyes narrow into slits. "They're irrelevant, we must not let ourselves become like them"

Lo'ak glances at him, clearly unconvinced. "Yeah, okay, so stop looking"

"Fine, I won't" Neteyam replies quickly, watching Lo'ak turn around and walk to the edge of the platform. But he dosen't stop looking, he hated himself for it for it and the way that it was practically eating himself alive.

Wasn't it such a simple task? To turn his head around and look somewhere else? Well it should be, but Neteyam couldn't bring himself to pry his eyes away from you, you, oh Eywa. Your eyes were the colour of the sea, your hair shiny and black, your smile making his stomach twist itself into knots, your laugh making shivers run up his back, the way you dressed alone would make people turn heads, but your attitude was what drew Neteyam in.

You didn't feel the need to keep up this respectful facade, treat him like a guest because it was expected of you as the daughter of the Olo'eyktan, no, you treated him the way you thought of him.

You were rude, you were impolite, and you were blunt, because you didn't like him. You didn't feel inclined to tolerate him just like what was expected of you. He wished he was that brave.

"'Teyam! 'Teyam look what I got!" Tuk squealed as the pair of you walked up the diving platform carrying mountains of shells on your palms. "Y/N told me she and 'Reya could put these in my hair after diving lessons! Isn't that cool?!?"

"Oh Tuk, you didn't force her into braiding your hair did you?"

Tuk looks back at you for moral support. "But she said she would-"

"-Neteyam let her be, if she wants me to braid her hair then I'd be happy to" you had jumped in, siding with Tuk whose ears flicked upwards at her statement. "I hope it isn't too infuriating that I favour your sisters over you"

Neteyam wanted to scoff, but instead stifles it with a tight smile. "Nonsense, my sisters have that effect on everyone" He tells her, looking at Tuk. "Don't you?"

Tuk simply gives him a giggle, a swift nod, and then runs to Kiri, shouting her name over and over again before the older girl groans in acknowledgement. "Here," you say, handing him a conch shell with yellow and brown patterns ruminating on its surface.

"What's this for?" He wonders.

"Your sister practically dug up the entire beach, you deserve at least one" you chuckled.

Oh. He stares at the shell in your hands, then looks back at your face. "If I take this does this mean we'll be friends?" He asks, a sly smile breaking on his face.

"Oh you wish" You reply, smirking as you narrow your eyss at the boy. "Taking this won't change anything"

"Yes it does," He replies as a matter of factly. "this is the longest conversation we've ever had without you leaving or insulting me"

"No it dosen't" You shook your head, insistent. "I'll still hate you after this"

He hums. "I think I can live with that," He smiled. "I did get a gift from the daughter of the Olo'eyktan after all" He laughs when he hears you scoff.

You leave right after he takes it and right before he could say thank you. Walking off to find a basket to store more of Tuk's shells in.

Neteyam looks at the shell in his hands, about 2 and a half inches long, smooth, shiny, perfect, it was perfect. He loves it. He closes his fist, a smile breaking on his face before he could even relent it, a light purple tinting his cheeks as he places the shell in one of his pockets.

#avatar the way of water #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam sully x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #atwow neteyam #neteyam x metkayina!reader

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook x Reader/ Yoongi x Jimin

𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓣𝓸𝓸𝓽𝓱 [Cream] 2/2

You're just so sweet, he can't help himself.

Tags/Warnings: Human!Yoongi, Human!Jimin, Rottweiler hybrid!Jungkook, Cat hybrid!Reader, Enemies to friends to lovers, mentions of past trauma, some Yoonmin here and there oops, Main story focus are MC and Kook though, just hybrid things (scenting, grooming, biting, licking, scruffing, and more), hurt & comfort

Length: 1.7k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: I hate this chapter so much.

-> Masterlist

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

When you come out of the shower, you don't bother with clothes- even the towel around you feels too much, any fabric covering you suddenly itchy and uncomfortable. And it's not like you've got something to hide either- he's gonna see you naked at some point anyways. 

So you simply throw yourself back into bed, hair still dry since you only wanted to really rinse off the sweat from the night's fever- making Jungkook playfully smack your leg. "Don't throw yourself around like that." He scolds, but you just roll over and sigh, rolling your eyes. 

"Did you have fun?" He asks, and you know he can probably still smell your pathetic attempt at trying to release some of the tension building up for you. 

It failed- you've passed the threshold, you're no longer able to really.. get off yourself anymore. And it's frustrating. 

"No.." you mumble, as he gets up presumably to shower too. He's not leaving you- you trust in that, and from the sounds of it in the bathroom, you're right too- he's just cleaning up, he's still gonna stay. 

What you don't expect however is for him to emerge from the bathroom fully nude. 

He's entirely unbothered by it, sitting down comfortably on the bed while you're short-circuiting. "We don't have to do anything, you know that, right?" He offers, and you nod after a moment. 

"I just feel like.. I don't know." You huff, throwing yourself onto your back in frustration. "It's.. too fast." You explain. "It's.. all the.. thrill will be gone." 

"You're worried I won't be interested in you after this?" He wonders, and you shrug, before nodding towards the ceiling. "That's bullshit." He says. 

"You say that now cause you're horny." You huff, crossing your arms, cat tail swishing over the bed. 

"Nop, still flaccid." He jokes boldly, making you sit up in a scandalized manner, causing him to laugh loudly, eyes sparkling in their crescent shape, cheeks round. "Listen.. things simply work differently for you and me." He explains. "We're not human. We're not Jimin or Yoongi." He offers, and you look down at his knees to not accidentally stare at his junk. "And I'm not like whatever you think I'll be like." 

"Prove it then." You challenge, making him smile boyishly. "I'm not joking!" You scold, and he laughs, nodding. 

"I know." He agrees. "And that makes me happy." He tells you, making you smile warmly as well. 

Because he's right. He's already not what you thought he'd be like. 

And it causes your confidence to rise enough for you to move, shed your towel to present yourself bare as well, simply to offer him the same as he offers you. 

Yourself. Unfiltered. 

And despite the fact that right now, he could do anything he wants with you- 

He just reaches out to hug you, and hold you. 

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

It's funny how he adapts to your rather.. unconventional heat. 

He's not interested in sex, because you're not either- you're more so needy for physical comfort, having him close, nesting with him, and occasionally playing around, his hand catching your fluffy tail but never too hard to hurt. 

Jimin and Yoongi probably think you're currently soiling the sheets with sweat, and you are- the dog hybrid gently caring for you whenever your body falls into a fever from the confused hormones inside you raging wildly. He'll hold you, open the window so you can cool off a bit, and helps you wash as soon as your temperature regulates again. 

And it's clear to you now that, while he's not gaining any sexual gratification from this, he's still satisfying a need of his own. 

Because you want him. You like him. You trust him. 

You don't fear him, no matter what he does. 

He can growl, he can be loud, he can be wild, manhandle you around or playfight over who gets more blanket- you don't ever become scared of him. There's not a single second where you jump back from him, no instinct in your bones to shy back away from him at any point.  

You're currently purring, rolling around in nothing but a shirt and panties, while he wears even less, only his underwear covering his most private parts. 

Right now, even though you're not actually actively trying to mate, Jungkook would not let neither his owner, nor Jimin anywhere near you. You need to be protected right now, and that's his job- one he takes very seriously. 

Especially now that you're both no longer talking at all, no words needed as he runs his hands over your skin, simply offering romantic affection with no underlying goals in mind. And you clearly enjoy it, holding onto his hand as it runs over your cheek, nuzzling into his touch as he moves to hold you again.  

He worries, a little. Your waves of fever have become worse and worse every time they happen- and he wonders if he might have to go against his instincts after all, and get help from the other two humans in the neighbouring house. 

He doesn't want you to suffer- and if he can't help you, he needs to find someone who can. 

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

You’re shed your shirt you wore earlier, leaving him will full access to your bare body- the only thing the two of you are wearing being standard underwear.  

He was definitely right about you owning the probably most cute and yet arousing underwear he could’ve imagined- lace rimmed panties decorated by a little bow and sparkling little charm in the middle. And he also has to admit that your bed is extremely comfortable- already making him a little excited about how to ruin the sheets one day if you’re up for that at any point in the future.  

But right now, none of his or your touch has any sexual intentions at all. There’s no heat in your affections- just the need to be close, just the desire to be offered something physical.  

You’re slowly easing out of your panicked state too, body apparently deciding that he’s no longer any kind of threat or danger- in fact, you’re actively seeking him now, clinging to him, hands kneading on his body occasionally, while he himself has become a little more bold as well, moving to pull you closer to him, face hiding in the crook of your neck where your scent is strongest. “How’re you feeling?” He asks quietly, and you instantly start to purr at the sound of his voice alone, causing him to laugh.  

“I don’t.. Want this to end yet..” You mumble, pulling his arm over your waist to hold you- something he happily does, hand on the small of your pack feeling your soft skin.  

“Doesn’t have to.” He shrugs, opening his eyes to look at you. “We can cuddle like this whenever you want.” He offers, and at that, your tail curls, legs caging his in.  

“Whenever I want?” You ask, and he smiles, nodding. “What if I always want to?” You wonder. “As soon as you come home from work.. Or when we go to bed.. What if I wanna sleep in the same bed every night?” You demand, and he can’t help but laugh.  

“I guess we can swap around every now and then.” He offers. “You can sleep in my bed over at Yoongi’s with me.. And I can sleep here in your bed with you from time to time..” He explains, and you nod.  

“But you need more pillows.” You instantly argue. “You almost have none.” You huff, rolling a little onto your back now, his hand reaching out to squeeze one of your tits playfully, making you laugh and turn over entirely to hide from him.  

But that’s not how it works for him, as he instantly takes the invitation to sit up and pull you back towards him, playfully biting at your neck, making you laugh loudly as you try and wiggle out of his grip. But he’s got a good hold on you-  

And you also don’t really want to get away from him either.  

“How about we take a nice long bath now?” He wonders into your neck. “Put the sheets in the wash, put on some clothes. I bet you Jimin is probably worried about you by now.” He tells you, and you shrug.  

“He’s got Yoongi.” You huff. “And I got you now.” You turn to look over your shoulder at him. “And you’ll only need me, right?” You ask, and he smiles.  

“Of course.” He agrees. “What else could I need other than a true princess?” 

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

“There you are!” Jimin beams, instantly hugging you- making you cringe slightly, though you don’t actively pull away from him. “Everything okay now? Are you sure?” He rambles, while Yoongi puts a hand on his partner’s shoulder to calm him down.  

“She’s fine, a little drowsy.” Jungkook teases, making your tail swipe from side to side. It’s clear to everyone that you’ve bonded over the almost week you’ve spent together- something having clicked into place it seems like, as you jump towards the kitchen with Jungkook in tow closing the fridge just to scold you playfully for ‘acting like you own the place’.  

“She’s.. Really happy.” Jimin hums almost to himself, Yoongi patting his back gently. 

“Not a bad thing.” He shrugs. “Get used to it. After all, looks like we’ll have to adjust the housing situation soon.” 

“Why?” Jimin asks, almost offended.  

“I mean-” Yoongi says, before looking towards the kitchen where you’re currently busy jumping behind Jungkook with your hands on his shoulders while he puts a pot on the stove. “-I personally would like to not accidentally listen in on whatever they’re up to in the future.” He laughs, making Jimin blush a deep red, never having thought about that.  

“Oh.” He simply says- 

Feeling a bit odd at the realization of slowly having to let you go. ♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥ 

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x you

[xo-cod]

fluff w simon <33 :') so obsessed w him, lmk if you'd like this w the others 🤍

cw: mentions of his abusive past, babies. also probably ooc/rushed LMAO 🫣

simon riley ♡ who swore to himself that love simply wasn't meant to be in his life after the traumatic past he had to bear now grew to enjoy baking with you, frowning and tutting playfully when your fingers hover over the chocolate chips and placing them on top of the fridge when you keep eating them all. he sighs after a few minutes and gives them back to you, your pout too cute to resist but you make up for it with kisses. they taste sweeter to him anyway <33

simon riley ♡ who worked to the bone as an escape from his personal life, finds himself becoming anxious when he's delayed and suddenly working overtime. he has to try to resist the temptation to become frustrated since he was the second in command and and this was technically the job he had signed up for but the fact that you're waiting for him at home is enough for him to risk everything run straight into your arms. he tries to reign in his impatience but it's hard when every precious minute that ticks by, he could be bundled up in your arms and watching a movie together. he doesn't care which one, so long as it makes you happy. and when he finally does rush back home, the very first thing he does is take you in his arms, ripping away his balaclava to kiss your sleepy face with such tenderness it warms your whole body <33

simon riley ♡ who used to spend the nights alone in his bed, hating to go to sleep because he wouldn't have any restful dreams now looked forwards to the snuggles you'd give him curled up in the bed. needing your body weight on him as if a weighted blanket to help him and keep him calm throughout the night. it's the way your body molds so perfectly to his, your hands interlaced, he can overcome anything like this. such a love wasn't allowed especially in his dangerous line of work. admittedly it was difficult finding the line between work and pleasure. it was hard at first to find the line between simon and ghost but you gave him patience and understanding. something he wasn't used to, something he didn't even think he deserved. you were the first to actually listen and understand his situation. the first to be sympathetic and knowing at how delicate the line had to be. he didn't like lying to you but you never put him in that position to ever do so. his dreams are much sweeter with you now <33

simon riley ♡ who walked around the base with a blank stare, stoic expression now breaks into a small smile whenever he sees you near. there's a lightness around him, the team have noticed. many a times has soap and gaz teased him when he's leaning against his chair risking a slap to the head when they catch the lieutenant deep in thought with crinkled eyes and a soft smile hidden under his mask. he doesn't have the energy to hide it anymore. he rolls his eyes when they make comments but he knows deep down they're true. he's happier with you, he's become better with you. you've got him wrapped your pretty lil finger and don't he know it <33

simon riley ♡ who grew to hate the world around him slowly learnt there was light even in darkness. who carried so much trauma, never experiencing the love of a family held back his own emotions when your parents and siblings accepted him with open arms. getting along with your father, complimenting your mom, all the small kids adoring how funny he was. he found himself looking forwards to next family gathering with your family that now considered him as their own, your mom giving him a gentle hug everytime and him biting his tongue to not cry because he can't remember what his own mothers hug had felt like. but it was similar to this warm feeling he got when he hugged your mom. he could only stand there as the warmness creeps through his heart like a ray of sun, that maybe perhaps this world wasn't as cruel as it once was <33

simon riley ♡ who was always fine doing things himself since he didn't have anyone to rely on now had separation anxiety when you were gone too long. he calms himself down, he's a trained sas soldier but when it's been a while and you're not in close contact, he's prone to becoming anxious. he doesn't want to be clingy or unbearable but you're his anchor in this treacherous world. keeping him grounded when his world has tilted on his axis. his calmness when there's trouble and his relief when the hardships are there. suddenly all the boring and menial tasks such as cooking and shopping are so much fun with you as you both playfully argue over what to buy. he always picks you up a treat no matter what, you're just his love <33

simon riley ♡ who thought his world ended when his mother and tommy died found renewed comfort in a new world waiting for him with you, teary eyed at the end of the aisle. trying to hold back the tears because you look like an angel, an angel he didn't even know if he deserved to have. you always reassure him but as you walk closer and closer, he just wants to take you in his arms and never let you go. the second your hands touch his, a shiver of delight runs through his body and calms his mind. you were his and he was yours, certainly no doubt about it. the years may not have been kind to him but you were a beacon of light throughout it all, this time you were his knight in shining armour. you saved him, even when he didn't realise it <33

and finally, simon riley ♡ who thought it would be him alone in this world now had you and a baby girl. his eyes shining with tears, kissing your forehead as he looks to small little baby sleeping in his huge arms. she was so incredibly small, barely even taking space in one arm. god he was so emotional, the walls that he spent years building around his guarded heart all but melted and crumbled into so many pieces. he looked at you with adoration while you slept in the hospital bed, looking back in his arms and noting all the similarities she bore between the two of you. how he noticed she even shared the same dimple placement just like his mother did, how her eyes crinkled in the same place tommy's did. she was so beautiful, all the parts of his past that he thought he'd lost forever lived on with her. simon sniffled softly, his eyes shining under the hospital lights while his thumb caressed her small forehead gently. he cradled her close to his chest, his heartbeat a soothing lullaby for his little one. his family before may have been snatched cruelly from his fingers but here he made an oath to protect you and his baby until his very last breath.

finally thanking the universe for his rock and now, his baby <33

#simon riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader fluff #simon riley x you