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flickering-chandelier · 2 days

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I Heard Your Voice in a Dream

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Reader’s village in the Spring Court is destroyed by Hybern (F U Tampon), and she is on her own until Azriel finds her. She feels instantly connected to him, but is not sure why, until one morning when he tells her everything.

(Also my first attempt at duel POV)

Warnings: a smutty ending

Word Count: 6.4k

You were running for your life when Azriel found you.

After the High Lord of the Spring Court made a deal with the devil to bring back his love that fled from him, life looked much different for you.

Hybern had attacked your village, destroyed your home and everything you had ever known. Your High Lord was nowhere to be found. Most of the people you knew didn’t make it out. Somehow, you had, but you couldn’t help but wonder… at what cost?

You spent your time wandering the endless green spring, not sure what to do. You had missed the evacuation. Nobody knew you were injured or where you were. By the time you were well enough to walk, you were alone.

The panic was made worse by the fact that you knew what was in these lands -- monsters that you had no hope of beating should they target you.

And eventually, they did target you.

You weren’t sure what kind of creature it was -- just knew that those teeth could rip you to shreds and you wouldn’t be able to outrun it for long.

But you did run, because what other choice did you have? You ran and ran, not daring to look back. You could hear it gaining on you with every step, until you felt, more than heard, the ground shaking beneath you.

Suddenly, it was silent, the terrible feet of the monster no longer sounding behind you. You risked a glance back, and saw who must have been a warrior, with enormous black wings spread behind him, wiping off his bloody blade on the grass next to the carcass of the beast.

You stopped running, turning around slowly, studying him as he looked up at you. He was the most beautiful male you had ever seen, with dark black hair and a completely stoic face, giving away absolutely nothing about what he was thinking. The hard lines of that face terrified you as much as they intrigued you. You realized you were shaking as he walked toward you slowly, as if approaching an injured animal. He was wearing some kind of armor -- all black, with gleaming, glowing circles attached to several points of his body. There were dark tendrils of what looked like smoke circling his arms, his hands. He sheathed his gleaming black blade as he approached you.

He held his hands out, severely scarred, you noticed, palms facing you as he got closer. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you.” His deep, commanding voice seemed to echo through the now quiet woods.

You couldn’t stop trembling, couldn’t bring your voice to speak.

“What’s your name?” he said softly when he stopped a few feet from you.

You told him, your voice barely above a whisper.

The warrior repeated your name quietly, his hazel eyes softening, then said “I’m Azriel. Are you hurt?”

“I-- I don’t think so.”

Azriel nodded, his eyes scanning your body, as if to confirm it. “What are you doing out here alone?”

You couldn’t help but think that the soft, gentle voice he was now using with you was such a juxtaposition to the fierceness of his armor, his no doubt rock solid body, his massive wings. “I have nowhere to go,” you finally choked out.

His brow furrowed, his eyes swimming with emotion you couldn’t quite place. “Your family?”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it. The expression on your face seemed to say enough. His jaw tightened as he swallowed.

“Your home?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Destroyed,” you whispered.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he said, his expression softening as he studied your face. You could almost see the wheels turning in his head, but you couldn’t imagine what he was contemplating.

“Thank you,” you croaked out eventually. “For saving my life.”

You turned to go, not wanting to inconvenience him further, but his hand grasped your wrist. As you turned around, you noticed his demeanor had completely changed. He staggered back a step, still holding onto you, pulling you forward a bit. Where before he was confident and calming, his eyes were now wide, his mouth open in what could only be shock.

“What is it?” you asked.

Azriel shook his head slightly, as if trying to clear it. “Come with me.”

You didn’t try to hide your surprise. “You don’t have to do that, I’ll manage.”

He moved his grip from your wrist to your hand, holding it carefully in his, as he gazed at your face, his eyes pleading. “You won’t survive out here. My home -- it’s safe. You’ll be safe.”

Contemplating this, you tried to weigh your options. You knew he was right, that you wouldn’t make it for much longer alone out here. You could try to make it to another court, but how long would that take? And what would happen to you if you got there? But, his home, the one he claimed was safe… you had never seen anyone like him before. Never seen anyone as intimidating. Finally, you asked. “Who… are you?”

His cheeks dusted red as he seemed to grapple for the right words. “I work for the High Lord of the Night Court,” he said carefully.

Unconsciously, you took a step back, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Azriel’s eyes flared. If you didn’t know better you would think it was panic. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice steady despite his body language.

“The Night Court?” you felt your heart beating faster. Why did your savior have to be from there, of all places? The only thing worse than these woods would be the Court of Nightmares, where not just the High Lord, but the people were brutal and malicious.

“If you just saw it, you would understand,” he said, taking a careful step towards you again. “I will keep you safe, I swear it.” His eyes remained pleading in a way that you couldn’t comprehend.

“Why?” you asked, trying to make sense of this warrior before you. “Why do you care so much?”

He hesitated, his eyes searching yours. Finally, he said with all the sincerity in the world, “I couldn’t live with myself if I just left you here.”

You sighed, trying to think. As if reading your thoughts he said, “You either trust me or be eaten by something out here.”

He was right. You knew he was. Still, you couldn’t stop the fear that lodged in your throat as you turned back to him and said resignedly, “Okay. Take me with you.”

---

Azriel tried to keep his breathing steady as the two of you made it to the townhouse in Velaris. He knew he would have a lot of explaining to do.

He watched your eyes widen as you took in the sight around you. Children laughing, people walking and talking, seemingly without a care in the world. A bustling city nestled between the mountains of the Night Court.

“Where… are we?” you asked. Your voice had not yet risen to a normal volume in the short time that he had known you.

Azriel didn’t know how much to tell you. He would likely already be in hot water just for bringing you here. “The Night Court,” he said, trying to keep his voice bland. “Sort of.”

You gaped at him.

Azriel winced as you neared the front door. “I hate to do this. But, I need you to wait out here.”

Your eyes only widened. “You’re going to leave me?”

His heart cracked a bit at your words. “It should only be a few minutes. I told you, it’s safe here.”

You scowled, crossing your arms, but finally said, “Okay.”

Azriel nodded once, took a deep breath, and walked inside. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhysand were all in the living room. Rhys was laughing at something Feyre said. All eyes looked to you as you stepped into the threshold.

“You’re back early,” Rhys said.

“I need to talk to you,” Azriel said to Rhysand, his voice sounding off, even to his own ears. “Alone.”

The others looked between the two of you curiously. Rhysand rose, masking his surprise, and gestured to his study.

When they were alone, Azriel didn’t know what to say, how to start. Finally, Rhysand had to say “What’s going on, Az?”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “When I got to the Spring Court, there was a woman. Running through the woods, from a bogge.”

“Okay,” Rhys drawled.

“I saved her, obviously. But, Rhys, you should have seen her. She was terrified and alone. I think she’s from the village that Hybern attacked.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Azriel held his gaze. “She’s my mate, Rhys.”

The High Lord swore. “You brought her here, didn’t you?”

“What was I supposed to do? She would’ve died out there.”

Rhysand nodded, processing the information. “It was a risk, bringing her here.”

“I know it was,” Azriel said, unwilling to apologize, not for saving his mate’s life.

Despite the danger Azriel had put them in, Rhysand smiled at his brother. “You found your mate.”

Azriel nodded. He hadn’t really processed the information yet.

“Does she know?” Rhys asked.

“No. She’s going through enough right now.”

Rhysand nodded again. “Just be careful. You know how it went when Feyre found out before I told her.”

“I know.”

“So,” Rhys said, leaning against his desk. “I guess we let her stay in the House of Wind. She can find her own place later, if she wants.”

Azriel breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Really.”

---

True to his word, Azriel was back a few minutes later. You were still shocked, trying to make sense of the day. How could this place be a part of the Night Court?

“I can take you to your room now, if you’re ready,” he said by way of greeting.

“My room?” What, in his house?

“Unless you want a tour of the city first? I figured you’d be tired,” he said naturally, as if he were speaking about the weather.

You couldn’t help but gawk at him. “I get a room?”

“Yes,” he said, as if it were obvious.

“Okay,” you said cautiously. “Sure, let’s go to… my room.”

He cleared his throat, taking a tentative step toward you. “We’ll have to fly.”

You just blinked at him. Surely, he didn’t mean…?

He motioned toward you. “May I?”

Resolved, you said, “At this point, why not?”

The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before carefully, he swept you up in his arms, glancing at your face before flapping his mighty wings, taking the two of you up over the city, toward a large mountain.

You clung to him, your stomach twisting in knots, until he landed gently on a balcony on the top of the mountain.

“Are you okay?” he asked as he set you on the ground.

You nodded, looking past him into the formal dining room inside. “Where are we?”

“This is one of the High Lord’s residences in the city. He doesn’t really stay here with us,” he said, opening the door and leading you inside.

“Us?”

“Me and a few others that you’ll meet. His inner circle.”

Again, you felt that fear spike through your body. The High Lord of the Night Court. His inner circle. What had you gotten yourself into?

As if sensing your fear, he stopped and faced you, looking at you intently. “The stories you’ve heard… they’re not real. At least, not in the context that you think.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to form a response. But, surprisingly, you wanted to trust him, this man who saved your life.

When he realized that you weren’t going to say anything, he cocked his head, motioning for you to follow him through the house. You silently obeyed, his heavy footsteps echoing through the empty hallways.

Finally, he stopped before a room, shouldering the door open and gesturing for you to step inside first. It was more lavish than any room you’d seen in your village in the Spring Court. The four poster bed was huge in the center of the room. To the right was a sitting area with two chairs and a couch, cozy looking rugs, and through an open door you could see a washroom. It was more inviting than you had expected.

“Will this be alright?” Azriel asked as you surveyed the room.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, this should be just fine.”

He smiled faintly. “I’m just a few doors down, if you need anything.”

“You’re leaving?” you asked, for the second time that day.

Hesitating by the door, he said, “I thought you’d like some time to unwind. I imagine it’s been quite a day for you.”

You nodded, but couldn’t help the pang you felt at being left alone again. Azriel was starting to feel like all you had in the world.

After studying you for a beat, he said, “I can come back in an hour? Give you some time to settle in?”

You couldn’t stop the small smi']le that tugged at your lips. “Okay.”

---

An hour later, Azriel was knocking on your door, wondering what the hell he had gotten himself into. This morning, he was leaving for the Spring Court to check on how Tamlin had been handling things, and now his mate was staying a few doors down, with no idea where she was or anything about him.

The breath was knocked right out of him as you opened the door. You had changed into leggings and a sweater, the shape of your legs on full display, your hair, slightly damp, was falling loose in ringlets over your shoulders.

An angel, he thought. You looked like an angel.

“I’m glad you gave me that hour,” you admitted, looking up at him from beneath your lashes. Azriel felt faint. “I haven’t had a real bath in ages.”

Clarity struck his brain again at the reminder of what you had been through, how you had been living since the attack on your home. His heart ached for you. He wanted to rip Hybern apart with his bare hands.

“Do you want the tour?” he asked, dumbly, trying to stomp down his emotions,

You agreed, and he led you through the halls, the tug in his chest dazing him. He ached to reach for your hand, to bring your body into his. How had Rhys endured all that time with Feyre, feeling like this?

As you walked through the house, you started asking questions, and Azriel answered to the best of his ability. He told you about Velaris, how secret it was, why it had been kept a secret. The Court of Nightmares, the lies they had to spin. He explained that he was the Night Court’s spymaster, explained his shadows, his shadowsinger abilities, his wings. He didn’t give a ton of details, not wanting to overwhelm you, but not wanting to lie either.

You told him of your past, too. Of your life with your family before Hybern, your cottage, your friends. None of them had survived the attack. Azriel clenched his fists as you spoke, marveling at how kind and reserved you were, despite the horrors that you had been through.

Suddenly, there was a commotion in the direction of the dining room and he winced. He would have to bring you to dinner, to face the entire group. Azriel knew that Rhys had relayed the information by now about his… guest. That was why they had all insisted on coming to dinner, to scope you out.

He felt guilty about keeping you out of the loop, that everyone would know that you were his mate. But you knew how much pressure could be put on females to give into their mates. He would never do that to you, he wanted you to have a choice.

He would just have to wait until you were settled, until you knew that you were safe with him.

You looked at him questioningly, and he simply said, “Are you hungry? It’s almost time for dinner.”

“Dinner…” you trailed off, a question in your eyes.

“With everyone. Yeah.”

Your eyes widened and he couldn’t help himself. He took your hand in his like he did in the woods, what had made the bond snap into place. “It’ll be okay. They’re good people.”

You looked skeptical, but nodded, moving a bit closer to him. He swore he felt his heart miss a beat.

Azriel led you to the dining room, still holding your hand. At the threshold of the room, you dropped his hand and stood behind him, peaking around his shoulder at the loud group. He could tell you were frightened, and wanted desperately to hold you, to take the fear away.

He cleared his throat, catching the attention of everyone in the room. He looked at his friends sternly, willing them to behave, at least for tonight, before he introduced you to them.

You remained behind him, creeping out the littlest bit, placing your hand gently on his bicep. He looked back at you, trying to calm you down like he had in the woods.

“Come on,” he murmured, lightly placing his hand on your arm and guiding you to your seat. You followed, your body taut.

Azriel introduced you to Cassian, Mor, Elain, Nesta, and Amren. You stayed silent, wide eyed, no doubt realizing the power in the people around you. Finally, he gestured to Rhys and Feyre. “And this is the High Lord and Lady.”

Your eyes widened further then, taking in Feyre. “High Lady,” you murmured, in awe.

Right. The High Lady. Feyre was the one who had tore the Spring Court apart from the inside out. Azriel hadn’t even thought of that, and watched your reaction.

Feyre smiled at you kindly and Rhys looked extremely proud. “Honestly, that… that’s amazing. A High Lady,” you repeated. Azriel let out the breath he was holding.

“We sure think so,” Rhys smirked, his eyes sliding warmly to Feyre.

Azriel could feel some of the tension leave your body, and he nearly slumped with relief.

Your reaction seemed to please his friends, too. Azriel couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride.

Throughout the course of dinner, you had remained silent, your doe eyes taking in everything before you. Azriel was hyper aware of you beside him, trying to sense your every reaction.

After dinner, Azriel walked you back to your room, pausing at the door. “How are you doing?” he asked.

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “It’s not what I expected.”

Azriel nodded. “In a good way?”

You smiled lightly up at him. He nearly fell over. “Everyone seems… normal. Like a family.”

Azriel smiled faintly. “They are. We are a family.”

Studying his face, you stayed silent for a moment. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He squeezed your shoulder gently, feeling his heart constrict at your vulnerability. “Sleep well. Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

You nodded, still smiling slightly as you went inside and gently closed the door behind you.

---

Despite your exhaustion, you lay awake, staring at the unfamiliar ceiling, your mind spinning. A family. That’s what this was, all of these powerful fae in one room, the mightiest warriors, the most fearsome High Lord… talking and teasing and laughing at dinner.

You had felt Azriel’s eyes on you, gauging your reactions.

Azriel. He was what was truly keeping you up, you thought. The most beautiful man with the scarred hands and the siphons, you had learned, that helped him harness his unbelievable power, the apparently legendary blade at his side. And yet, the way he watched you, the way his voice changed when he spoke to you…

You couldn’t help but trust him, feeling safe next to him. He had saved your life, after all. It was that thought that was wisping through your mind as you finally drifted off to sleep.

---

The first night in your new bed, you had slept through the night once you were finally able to sleep, too exhausted from the events of the day to be chased by monsters in your dreams.

The second night was a different story.

You didn’t even realize you had been screaming until scarred hands were shaking you awake, hazel eyes so close to yours, full of worry and protectiveness, saying your name over and over until your eyes cleared.

Azriel’s fingers were rubbing soothing circles on your shoulders. “It’s okay, you’re safe. It was just a dream,” he said softly, cupping your cheek in his rough hand when you had stopped trembling.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked, tears springing to your eyes.

He gently wiped the tears away with his thumb, not taking his eyes off you for a second. “For what?” his voice was husky from sleep.

“Waking you,” you whispered, captivated by his hands on you, his eyes swimming with emotion.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said gently, his thumb still absently stroking your cheek. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice to be audible enough for him to hear.

“Do you want -- I can stay. If you want. Until you fall back to sleep,” he said hesitantly. You hadn’t known him long, but you imagined it was rare for him to stumble over his words like this.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said quietly, though you felt your heart swell at the offer. “I appreciate it, but… I’m sure the spymaster needs sleep.”

The corner of his mouth turned up into a faint smile as he pulled back from you, settling in the armchair against the wall. “I’m used to staying up because I’m the spymaster,” he said, humor lining his voice.

“You’ve already done so much for me--”

His voice was still soft, but added a commanding edge as he cut you off. “Sleep, my lady. I don’t mind.”

You considered protesting again, but knew it wouldn’t get you anywhere. And honestly… it did make you feel better to have his comforting presence in the room, chasing away all of your invisible demons.

---

It didn’t take long for your breathing to go steady, lost in a deep sleep. Azriel couldn’t bring himself to leave you yet, though.

The sound of your terrified shrieks ran over and over in his mind. He had been protective of people before, of course, but this. The terror he could feel radiating off of you, the tears streaming down your face, the look in your eyes before you realized where you were… his hands gripped the armrests so tightly that he worried you might not have a chair in your room tomorrow.

He focused on you now: your peaceful face, your hair draped across the pillow, your breathing even. It calmed him down slightly, but not enough.

Azriel wanted to stay. Just to be sure that you were alright, to ensure that he would be able to stop the nightmares before they escalated this time, but he did not want to invade your privacy. He knew that you probably wouldn’t be happy to find him still sitting there in the morning.

So, after you had been sleeping peacefully for quite some time, he dragged himself out of the chair and silently went to his own room, where he could not sleep at all, those screams rattling around in his mind.

---

Azriel stayed by your side for weeks after you arrived in the Night Court, only leaving, seemingly, when he absolutely had to. The two of you would relax in the library, raid the kitchen, wander around the streets in Velaris that seemed endless to you, in the best way. Despite everything that you had heard of the Night Court and its inhabitants, you were starting to feel at home there. Though you still were extremely intimidated by everyone except Azriel, and couldn’t imagine spending time with any one of them if he wasn’t present.

Though you were starting to adjust to your new life, you continued to wake Azriel so consistently with your nightmares that you wondered if you should just offer to let him sleep next to you. Of course, you knew you couldn’t possibly do that. Your cheeks flushed at just the thought. Guilt gnawed at you though, for being the reason for his lack of sleep, so much so that you offered to switch rooms, somewhere further from him, but he would hear none of it. Nearly every night he came into your room, shaking you awake, then soothing you back to sleep. You couldn’t imagine how he was functioning on so little rest.

One night was particularly bad. You dreamt of the attack on your village, the bloodshed you saw, the terror you felt. You knew Azriel could sense that it was worse than usual, as he wouldn’t take his soothing hands from your arms until you had stopped trembling, which took significantly longer than it normally did. His eyes were filled with more worry than you had seen before, and when he pulled away from you, you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out and gently grabbing his wrist.

His eyes widened a bit in surprise as he turned back to face you, but he said nothing.

“Can you come here?” Your quiet voice cracked on the last word and his jaw ticked at the sound.

He approached you slowly, like he didn’t want to do the wrong thing. “What can I do?” he murmured.

“Can you -- I mean, would it be too weird…” you flushed, unable to get the words out.

Comprehension flooded his expression and you were so embarrassed that you wanted to take it all back, but then his eyes softened with so much warmth that you wanted to cry. “You want me to lay with you for a bit?”

You bit your lip. “Would you?”

The ghost of a smile. Your heart melted.

You scooched over to the far side of the bed before he settled into next to you, agonizingly slowly. He faced you, propping his cheek on his fist. “Is this okay?”

You could only nod, concealing half your face with your sheets in an attempt to hide how red your cheeks had no doubt become. The heat radiated off his body, his shadows nowhere to be found in the dim light.

He smiled faintly as you looked at him. He murmured, “you have to close your eyes to sleep, you know.”

More heat rose to your cheeks. “You could sleep too. You don’t have to stay up and guard me.”

His smile grew. “Isn’t that literally what I’m here for?”

“You’re here for…” you contemplated how much you should tell him. “Your comforting presence,” you finally said.

“You find my presence comforting?” he said, his voice losing that teasing note he had been using moments before.

“Of course I do,” you said, slightly mesmerized by those hazel eyes that rarely left yours.

His expression was unreadable as he studied you for another moment before laying down and murmuring, “Go to sleep.”

So, you did.

---

Azriel could not sleep.

His mate. His mate, who flooded his thoughts day in and day out, whose tug on him drove him mad every waking moment, was in bed with him. And she had no idea what she was. Or what he desperately wanted to do to her.

Your comforting presence.

The words drifted around his mind ceaselessly. He was willing to bet that his mate was one of the only people who would ever feel that way. Most people feared him, or were at least wary of the near-silent shadowsinger.

But, his mate…

Azriel’s eyes whipped to you as your breathing changed, ready to wake you up again if need be. He watched the rise and fall of your chest carefully, before it evened out again and he relaxed back against the mattress.

He would have to tell you. Soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this, without having any idea how you felt about him.

He thought of you, as he always did lately, when he finally drifted off to sleep.

---

Strong arms were holding you when you awoke. Before you were fully conscious, you snuggled further into the warmth. Mother only knew how long it had been since you had felt that safe.

It wasn’t until you heard the grumble of a sleepy male behind you that your eyes sprung open and you realized where you were. You were in your bed, faint sunlight shining through the curtains. And the shadowsinger was behind you, his arms wrapped around your middle, your bodies flush together, his breath tickling your neck.

You were spooning. Azriel was spooning you.

And he wasn’t awake yet.

Mother above and Cauldron save me.

Should you pull away? You didn’t exactly want to. And it had been so long since he had gotten a good night’s rest, thanks to you.

Selfishly, you couldn’t bear to leave those arms. So, you did what any rational person would do. You pretended you were still asleep and savored the feeling of the strong warrior’s body pressed against yours.

It was a little while later when he shifted and stiffened. He was awake.

Carefully, he untangled himself from you, backing up to where he had started the night. After a moment, you turned around, to face him, feigning grogginess.

He was gazing at you, his expression more open than you had ever seen it. His eyes swimmed with something that looked like longing. Or maybe that’s just what you hoped it was.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, his voice gravelly from sleep. It made your toes curl beneath the sheets.

“I slept really well, actually,” you said, honestly. “Did you get to sleep?”

He nodded, his expression smoothing back to that unreadable blankness.

“Thank you for staying,” you said softly. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I don’t know what I would do without you, either.”

You sat up a bit, propping yourself up on one elbow. “Me? What do you mean?”

He furrowed his brow, as if he were contemplating whether to tell you something or not.

“Is something wrong?” you asked.

He swallowed, his jaw clenched slightly. “There’s something I should tell you.”

You just waited, gazing at that beautiful face.

Taking a deep breath, his eyes not wavering from yours, he said, “That day, when I touched you in the woods, I realized that you’re my mate.”

If you weren’t in your bed, you’re sure you would have fallen over. Your heart started pounding and you sat up fully, now very aware of the thin night clothes you were wearing.

Azriel sat up too, studying, trying to gauge your reaction.

“That’s why you were so adamant about bringing me with you,” you said quietly, your mind reeling.

He nodded. “To be fair, I might have done that anyway, but… yes. I couldn’t leave you there.”

You watched his hazel eyes looking back at you. You had been right before, you could see that now. He wanted you. Longed to be close to you.

“That’s why I feel so connected to you,” you whispered, noting that tug in your chest that is always leading you to him. “Why you always make me feel so safe.”

His expression flooded with emotion. “You really feel that way around me?”

“Of course I do. Since the very beginning,” you said, inching closer to him, so your legs were almost touching. You couldn’t quite believe it.

Azriel was your mate. The sweet, mysterious, strong spymaster from the Night Court who saved your life. Who had given you a home.

He was your home, you realized with a start.

“Are you…happy?” Azriel asked, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

He had been worried, you realized. Worried that you would be upset, or wouldn’t return his feelings.

Without a word, you leaned forward, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him.

You felt the relief rush through his body as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you to him. You settled on his lap, straddling him, deepening the kiss.

He moaned quietly into your mouth as he slipped his tongue inside and you tightened your grip on him, raking your nails down his back. You felt his hardness pressing against your leg, and flushed at that feeling of being wanted.

His rough hands trailed up your bare thighs, toying with the hem of your nightdress. He stopped kissing you long enough to pull back, a silent question in his eyes. You nodded, smiling, and kissed him fiercely before he slowly pulled the dress up and over your head, his eyes raking your body, now completely bare save for your underwear.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes twinkling, before he kissed sensually down your neck. Then lower and lower…

You gasped as he took your nipple in his mouth, biting gently before soothing over the peak with his tongue.

“Azriel,” you moaned, and he growled in response, tightening an arm around your waist and flipping you onto your back, pressing your body into the mattress with his.

“You never answered my question,” he said, his voice husky, desperate. He toyed with one of your breasts while he devoured your neck, biting and licking and kissing.

“What… what was the question?” you panted, your mind spinning.

He laughed into your skin, low and sensual, making your back arch. “Are you happy?”

You took your face in his hands, guiding him to look at you. His fingers stopped, his eyes open and yearning. “I’m home, Az. You’re my home. I’ve never been happier.”

His smile lit up his entire face, and he kissed you sweetly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that,” he murmured.

He continued kissing you slowly and lovingly before the two of you got heated again. You tugged at his shirt and he helped you peel it off. He leaned against you, and you reveled in the feeling of his skin against yours, the feel of his muscled back under your fingers.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as he kissed down your body while sliding your panties down your legs, eventually settling his face in between your legs, his mouth hovering an inch from where you needed him.

“Az,” you groaned, twining your fingers in his hair.

You could’ve sworn you heard a soft grunt before his mouth connected with your center and you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming.

“We’re the only ones here, you know,” he said, eyeing you mischievously, sliding a finger into you while his mouth was occupied.

“Meaning?” you panted.

He smirked, sliding another finger into you. You gasped, your back arching off the mattress. “You don’t have to be quiet,” he said, his voice velvet.

Before you could react, he ducked his head back down, sucking hard on your clit, while pumping his fingers in and out of you.

You couldn’t stop the scream that erupted from you, tugging at his hair, pulling him further into you.

Laughing into your skin, he splayed his free hand over your stomach to stop your squirming and continued devouring you.

Eventually, you needed more. “Azriel?”

“Hmm?” he hummed against you, his mouth still working.

“If you don’t take your pants off right now, I might die,” you said, your voice breathy.

He finally took his mouth off you, leaning his head back and laughing louder than you’d ever seen from him. The sound was deep, filling the room. It made your heart swell.

Sliding off the bed, his eyes laser focused on you, he said “I suppose I can’t allow that, can I?”

He held your gaze as he slowly slid his pants off. When he was naked before you, he stalked towards you, his eyes predatory.

You gulped, trying not to show how surprised you were at the size of him.

Azriel was smirking, more smug than you’d ever seen him. He placed his elbows on either side of your head, hovering over you. “Was there something you wanted?” he teased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him closer, but he wouldn’t budge.

You scowled at him and he grinned. “You know what I want,” you groaned.

He cocked his head, feigning ignorance.

“You were so much nicer before,” you mumbled, still trying and failing to pull his muscled body on top of yours.

Leaning his lips down so they were hovering just over yours, he whispered, “I want you to say it.”

Your mouth fell open. “I can’t,” you squeaked.

He smirked. “I’m your mate. You can tell me anything.”

Sighing, you looked to the ceiling, unable to look him in the eyes. “I want you.”

“You already have me,” he said, lightly nipping at your throat. “What do you want me to do?”

“Azriel.”

He laughed lightly. “Okay, fine. I’ll just have to take a guess then.”

Before you could respond, he slid into you, groaning as he did so.

He leaned his forehead against yours, forcing you to look up at him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him, saying “Did I guess correctly?”

Biting your lip, you nodded and he grinned.

“Ready for more?”

You groaned in response, unable to speak.

Slowly, he started moving in and out of you. The two of you moaned in unison.

He groaned, “You feel --”

“So good,” you finished, and he let out a breathy laugh, moving his hips faster.

Azriel was gazing at you with so much love and affection as he was moving in and out of you, you could barely breathe. You placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him into a kiss. He smiled against your mouth, his breathing ragged.

You couldn’t believe you had eternity to do this with your mate.

---

Azriel did not leave your bedroom that day. Frankly, he never wanted to leave it again.

He knew he probably could’ve kept going long into the night, but he could tell that you needed a break, so the two of you had settled against the pillows. You were now asleep, your head on his chest, your fingers lightly gripping his waist.

His heart swelled as he lightly ran his fingers through your hair, savoring the feeling of being in love and having you close to him.

He never wanted to let go.

#acotar #acotar fic #acotar one shot #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel one shot #azriel x you #azriel fluff #ACOTAR smut #ACOTAR fanfiction #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel smut

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geeks-universe · 3 days

Text

Cooper Howard x F!Reader (not to spoil it, but you know I love my crossovers so…)

The Fallen

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

Once, when the world was younger and you were still naive enough to believe in fate, you asked your father about love.

He’d laughed then- a deep, cheery kind, that spoke of a wisdom you could never hope to achieve.

“In time,” he’d promised, taking your hands into his, “You’ll learn that love comes in many forms, and the love you choose will always be the greatest.”

Even after everything, after years and years of disappointment, of cruelty and emptiness, you couldn’t forget his words.

So, in an act of rebellion, you chose love.

You chose the love of your brother, the brother who would lose everything, who would fall from Grace, just for defying fate.

You chose the human race, who turned their back on you, who hurt you over and over again.

You chose a better life, that seemed impossible most days- but sometimes, just sometimes, everybody lives.

And you chose wrong.

The world tore itself apart, and just when you wanted to believe it could find itself again, it would fall into the greatest trap in human history: greed.

The love in your soul turned to dust, like the cities you’d once roamed, crumbling until all that remained was an empty space and broken dreams. You’d held onto what you could of yourself, desperate to piece together the fragments into something that resembled the person you’d been, but there was no hope. The spark of hope you’d once kindled and raised to an inferno was doused, nothing but ashes in the ocean of your disappointment.

There were still a few things you couldn’t abide by, however, and Cooper Howard dragging an innocent woman through the desolate Wastelands was one of them.

You’d happened upon the scene by accident, just passing through, but the familiarity of the figure had you lurking longer than what was normally deemed safe.

“Coop?”

Your voice was gentle, like the beginning strums of a sweet song. Cooper wasn’t sure how the harshness that had etched itself into your demeanor never invaded your speech, but he would be eternally grateful. It was a goddamn godsend he didn’t believe he ever deserved.

“Well, now,” he drawled, careful to keep the smile that threatened to peek through hidden. “Last I heard, you were headed East.”

You had no such reservations, and even the years of guilt and pain couldn’t wipe away the upturn of your lips. For an action so small, it sure did radiate in a way the sun never could.

“I did, but it didn’t stick,” you shrugged, grabbing the straps of your backpack. Never one for subtlety, you gestured at the vault-dweller, who had been eyeing you with a keen interest.

She had been quiet, obviously, for the sake of herself and how Cooper might react to her asking for help. Now that you’d acknowledged her, though, she started speaking up, much to Cooper’s chagrin.

“I’m Lucy,” she said, tugging harshly at the restraints around her neck. “I’m looking for my father.”

You nodded, and the fluttering in Lucy’s heart slowed, fear mixing with her initial curiosity. You knew the ghoul holding her captive, the chances of you helping her were slim to none, but she tried to remain optimistic. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a good person on the surface.

“Might be hard to do with that,” your eyes flicked from her neck to Cooper, with a pointed raise of one brow.

He let out a low whistle, leaning back with the confidence of a man who’d lived long enough to not be afraid of shit. If it were anyone else, friend or not, he would’ve shot them dead and been done with it. He didn’t need to answer to anyone, but something deep in his chest forced his hands steady.

“She broke my vials,” he explained, cautiously avoiding your gaze. “Seems only fair she gets me more.”

“He used me as bait!” Lucy argued indignantly, trying to take a step towards you only to be tugged back by Cooper. “I had to do something.”

“Your father,” the word is strained, a haunting in your eyes Lucy can’t place, “Where is he?”

Lucy tried, once again, to walk to you. Coop, however, was keeping her on a tight leash, refusing to let her near you. It’s for his benefit, he tells himself, even if some small part of him does it for your protection.

Over the years, he’s run into you many, many times. No matter how hard he’s tried, it’s like fate keeps bringing him back to you. At first, he’d been downright horrible to you, terrified to admit that there was something in your eyes that made him feel human again. Slowly, ever slowly, like a stubborn weed you grew on him, and it’s been impossible for him to deny the way his body reacts to you.

“Coop,” you chide, your voice like velvet, enveloping his skin in a soft warmth. Fuck, he did love it when you used his name.

You gave Lucy a half smile, and the growl that threatened to leave Cooper’s mouth got caught in his throat as he realized you weren’t walking to her, but to him.

“I’ll get you the vials, just let her find her dad.”

He stood a little taller as you approached, planting his hands on his belt as he ran his tongue along his teeth.

“Darlin’, I ain’t doing this for the hell of it,” he replied, and then paused. “Mostly.”

You reached your hands out, carefully enveloping them around where he was grasping the rope. In all his years, he hadn’t recalled a single touch ever stirring his stomach the way yours did. You’d only ever touched him once before, and it was a brief graze of his cheek. This was intentful, and it felt a hell of a lot more intimate than it had any right to be.

“Please,” you breathed, and he could see the despair in your eyes - eyes that were far too old for someone who looked so young. He could never quite piece together how you fit in this world, or how you managed to look as if you’d stepped right out of the past just to have this moment with him.

He sighed, maintaining a scowl for all he was worth. Cooper Howard would not let you see the effect you had on him.

“Thank you, Coop.”

His stubborn heart skipped a beat as he clenched his jaw, his expression emanating annoyance. You weren’t perturbed, however, turning away to free Lucy.

“I’m (Y/N),” you introduced yourself, careful not to irritate the marks on her neck further. Cooper was rough around the edges, you knew that, but you saw the man beneath the armor in the little moments, the times he couldn’t quite hide who he was.

It intrigued you, made you think about yourself and the person you’d become. Perhaps, you had been too hasty in throwing that person away. Maybe, that part of yourself was still alive too, buried underneath layers of armor.

“Thank you,” she was sincere in her gratitude, and that tiny piece of yourself flared, begging to be remembered.

“I could help you too, you know,” you offered after a delayed pause, chasing the optimism she held tightly onto.

No matter how hard you tried, your soul fought back, demanded to be whole again.

“Really?” Her surprise morphed to joy, and you found it contagious.

“Now hold on just a damn minute,” Cooper interrupted, not pleased with that development. “Your services are required elsewhere.”

“I’m capable of servicing more than just you.”

His leg twitched at the insinuation, at the way you looked at him from beneath your lashes with an innocence he doubted you possessed.

“But, since you asked so nicely cowboy,” your smile was devious, your tone far too sultry for the sweltering heat of the desert. “You first.”

Lucy’s brows were to her hairline, unsure what to make of the dynamic between the two of you. Her entertainment, however, was cut blissfully short when you threw a canteen towards her, which she caught instinctually.

“Now you’re coddling her, sweetheart?”

You took a moment to wrap the lasso Cooper carried around into a neat loop, your gaze locked with his as you approached once more. Lucy was too preoccupied with her water to notice the two of you sizing one another up.

“Don’t be jealous, Coop,” you grabbed the front of his belt roughly, forcing him a step closer to you.

He fell into the motion, tracing his eyes dangerously slow from where you gripped his belt to the soft curve of your lips.

“You’re still my favorite,” you promised on a breath as you tucked his lasso securely into his waist.

His hands snatched your wrists before you pulled away, and for a brief moment, the intermingling of your breath was all that interrupted the silence. His gaze was a challenge, and yours was far too playful.

It was damn near unfair how you could walk through the apocalypse and still look like you belonged on a fucking billboard. There was an unnatural allure around you, and he wasn’t sure if it was the twinkle in your eyes, or the smoothness of your skin, or the gentle bur of your voice- but holy fuck you looked like an angel that’d accidentally stumbled into hell.

The silence was interrupted by Lucy clearing her throat, an awkward smile as she caught your attention.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but-“

“It’s okay,” you assure her, grazing your fingers along Cooper’s palms as you step from his proximity.

“Vials first, daddy dearest after,” you reminded them, taking the lead.

Lucy was more than happy to walk beside you, while Cooper trailed a small distance behind. Where Lucy was insistent on speaking, keeping up a steady conversation through the long trek, Cooper preferred to observe.

First, he focused on the way your black jumpsuit hugged all the right areas, tight enough it could be considered a damn sin. That train of thought was dangerous though, and left him with an ache he knew he couldn’t satisfy on his own.

So, he instead focused on the way you effortlessly dodged Lucy’s line of questions, and redirected the questions to learn about her. It was curious, that. As much of a tight lipped bastard that Cooper was, you were doubly so. Through the years and the friendly encounters, he’d let some of his life slip in conversation. Nothing substantial, but you certainly knew more tidbits than anyone else.

He, however, didn’t know anything about you. He knew what he observed, but you never told him anything about your past.

It helped pass the time, sifting through your noncommittal answers to make assumptions about the life you lived.

It was difficult though.

Sometimes, you talked about things like you’d witnessed them, even though it would’ve been impossible. He didn’t know your age exactly, but if he had to guess, he’d put you at maybe mid-twenties, and that’s at the oldest. It was damn near a miracle you didn’t have any missing limbs or obvious scarring. You looked as unmarked as a damn vault dweller, and he was starting to think that perhaps you had been one.

“Have you always lived on the surface?”

He never thought he’d be thankful for the damn vault dweller, but it was nice having someone try to pry some answers out of you.

“That’s a harder question to answer than you’d think,” you laughed a little coyly, like there was a joke that only you were privy to.

When it was obvious you weren’t going to continue speaking, and Lucy had far too many manners to push any further on the subject, she asked another question.

“Why’d you help me?“

Your gaze turned toward the setting sun. It had been over half the day since you’d decided to help them both, and the sun was just now slipping below the horizon. The three of you would have to rest soon.

“It’s hard to forget the person I was,” you admitted lowly.

The symphony that was your voice turned decidedly melancholy, unnaturally so. Normally, it sounded more like a romantic string of tunes that captured the essence of life. This, however, was sad, dead.

“Maybe the world needs more people like that,” Lucy provided, and Cooper didn’t miss the flash of guilt that devastated your expression.

Curious, indeed.

“I’d reckon that’s the last place we’ll find ‘fore the sun disappears,” Coop states, pointing to a rickety, old house, somehow still standing against the desert in defiance.

“It’s as good a place as any for the night,” you shrugged, leading the small group to the rest spot.

Where Cooper was cautious, weapon drawn, you were careless, opening the door like you knew nothing was in there that could hurt you. He felt a twinge of annoyance that you would be that reckless, knowing the dangers of the Wasteland. He was many things, but a protector was certainly not one of them.

“Here,” Lucy tried to hand you back the canteen you’d gifted her earlier as you settled yourself down in a corner.

The building was definitely empty, and provided some amount of protection from both the elements and any creatures lurking about, but there wasn’t any intact furniture. You’d found a relatively comfortable pile of sand and laid your pack down, as if it were a pillow.

“Keep it,” you refused to take the offering. You were honestly a bit surprised she had even saved some for you.

“But you haven’t had anything to drink all day.”

It was an oddity that Cooper had noticed too. While both he and the vault-dweller had taken an occasional sip of water or a bite to eat, you hadn’t done either, and the brutal pace you’d set hadn’t reflected that.

“Believe me, “ you said, turning your back to your two traveling companions. “I’m okay.”

Obviously unsatisfied with leaving the conversation, Lucy frowned, but obeyed. Her probing look to the ghoul warranted no answers, and eventually she found her own patch of sand.

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

The next few days passed along in a similar manner, and the more of you that the two observed, the more confused they became. They didn’t voice their concerns, however, far more focused on the destination you had in mind.

“It’s…”

Lucy trailed off, side eyeing you with a questioning look.

“A lab,” you supplied.

“Right, a lab!” She echoed enthusiastically, deciding it best not to point out that it was very much in a state of disrepair and the likelihood of anything surviving the looting prevalent throughout the Wastelands was little to none.

“Sugar, I don’t have the time to be fucking around right now.”

It was the closest tone to anger that Cooper had spoken to you since his first year of knowing you. In the past two days specifically his coughing had grown more severe and more often.

You’d explained a generalized version of what would happen without help to Lucy after the first night, and since then she’d been a bit more apologetic to the ghoul, even if he was a dick.

“Stay out here,” you ordered, not waiting for their inevitable protest as you slipped into the decrepit building with a loud screech of the door.

At the very least, your traveling companions didn’t follow you into the descending hallway, which was more than you expected.

Whatever source had powered the underground facility had died years ago, leaving the bulk of the supplies sealed tight behind an impenetrable door. The bunker was lined with 2 feet of lead, and a door weighing many tons. It was nigh impossible to get in, and if you were anyone else, you would’ve considered it a lost cause.

Instead, you cast a glance back towards the faded light where the entrance was, ensuring that you were not followed while you grabbed hold of the door handle.

You sighed, yanking with a great deal of force until the door made a loud pop, coming unhinged and falling to the ground with a deafening thud. There was a hushed murmur from where Lucy had yelled down to you, but you didn’t bother replying, instead focused on the rows and rows of vials.

Most of the initial testing sites were still secret, a forgotten part of history that, despite their usefulness in the current state of the world, had fallen into the cracks of negligence. Luckily for you, and by extension Cooper, there was enough supply to last him damn near a year if he could ration and store it properly.

Just as you dropped the first vial into your backpack, which was in a convenient metal container, you heard a distinct whooshing noise. You didn’t need to look at the falling object to know who had decided to drop by, and with an exasperated sigh, you tilted your head toward the ceiling of the very dark, very cold bunker.

“Brother…”

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

“Do you think we should check on her?” Lucy was having trouble keeping still, straining her eyes down the dark hallway. “What if she’s hurt?“

“She ain’t hurt,” Cooper shot back, leaning back against the dingy building and crossing his arms over his chest.

“She could be de-“

“Finish that sentence and you might find yourself there, sweetheart,” He threatened, his fingers reaching down toward his holstered gun.

Maybe it’d be better to keep her mouth shut, but after a tense silence, and quite literally nothing better to do, Lucy couldn’t help herself.

“So, you and (Y/N)-“

“Do you like breathin’? ‘Cause I’m getting the distinct feeling that you certainly do not.”

“I couldn’t help but notice you look at her with this-“

“I have no qualms with blasting a hole through your head ‘nd tellin’ her you decided to run off.”

“And then there’s the way she talks to you-“

“I’m gonna stop you right there, sweetheart. If one more word comes out of your mouth, it’ll be the last.”

The two met stare for stare, the threat lingering in the hot breeze between them. Lucy had no doubt she was beginning to grate on the ghoul’s nerves, but she also didn’t really think he’d harm her, not when it was obvious you’d know it was him that did so.

He wouldn’t risk you being upset with him.

Probably.

And because Lucy really didn’t know when to stop talking, she spoke one more time.

“I know that you think I’m naive, and maybe I am, but I do know that life is unexpected and people die, like, a lot.” She dragged in a breath, envisioning her last, and only, memory with her mother, surprised that Cooper had actually let her speak for this long without interrupting.

“Especially up here, so maybe, just… keep that in mind.”

The silence stretched, and for a long moment, Lucy was sure he was going to shoot her. Or at the very least, not answer.

Ever so quietly, however, in a low grumble she heard him mutter, “I know.”

The air felt significantly less murderous after that, and she left the ghoul to contemplate his complex feelings on the subject. She might not fully understand the extent of your connection, or even why you felt that way towards him, but she could appreciate the raw emotion that sparked in the conversation between you both.

If anything good came out of her coming to the surface, besides bringing her dad home, she hopes it would be them realizing the gift they have. Idly, she thought about the knight she’d met back at Filly. That was the first real connection she’d had with anyone, as silly as it was to think about.

“I’m glad nobody’s shot,” you interrupted the quiet contemplation, the smile on your lips not quite reaching your eyes.

Whatever happened in the mysterious lab couldn’t have been good, but you seemed entirely unscathed outside the haunted, nervous look in your eyes.

“Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Cooper greeted, tipping his hat back a titch so he could inspect your person. If he took a little extra time to appreciate the curves of your body- well, who could blame him?

“It’s cleared out,” you rattled your pack in the air before you, nearly dropping some of the overstuffed vials.

Coop let out a low whistle, and Lucy commented, “That’s enough for a lifetime.”

“Not quite,” you laughed, passing along the top one to Cooper. “But it will certainly last a while.”

While the ghoul tended to his needs, Lucy and you wandered further into the Wasteland, eyeing the pipboy on her wrist with the directions to the head.

“So the head for your dad?”

There it was again. The sourness in your voice at the word “dad”. Lucy wanted to ask without being too terribly intrusive, but let the subject drop.

“Did anything happen in the lab?”

You bummed, shaking your head. It was clearly a lie, further proven by the frown that settled on your lips. There wasn’t a lot of yourself you trusted other people with, especially not when it came to your family, but your soul was burning with the desire to shed your armor.

“My brother’s name is Lucy,” you said suddenly, unprompted. “Well, his nickname.”

Lucy, at the very least knowing where the boundary was, decided not to press her luck. Despite seeming to be such a small piece of information, she could see the effort you put into sharing it nonetheless.

“Lucy?” Cooper echoed, having snuck up at some point to follow you.

You weren’t bothered that he’d overheard though. On more than one occasion you’d wanted to share pieces of yourself with Cooper.

“Lucifer,” you provided his full name, a twinge at the top of your shoulder blade, where your battered, broken wings began, ran down the length of your spine.

“Like the devil?” Lucy inquired cautiously.

A laugh crawled up your throat, and before you could stop it, you were giggling heartily, nodding your head.

“That’d be the one, yeah.”

She didn’t understand the truth you were telling her. You knew she wouldn’t, couldn’t possibly fathom the implications that ensued with that knowledge either.

Lucy casted one quick glance at Cooper, then cleared her throat and claimed she was going off the path to use the bathroom quick.

There was a tense silence that permeated the hot, desert air when she left, a new development that neither occupant knew how to navigate. Finally, Coop broke it.

“Ya know, you’ve never actually talked about… all o’ that.”

Your family.

He didn’t say it in so many words, but you could fill in the unspoken topic without much thought. You hummed, acknowledging your own secrecy regarding your past.

“Sometimes it’s better to leave the past buried.”

Coop breathed out a laugh.

“Don’t I know it.”

The smile you gave him was genuine, albeit small. Hesitantly, you reached out towards his gloved hand, grasping it lightly between your own. You didn’t have anything you really wanted to say, didn’t need to, actually. He could see it in your eyes, the gratefulness shining in your bright gaze, clearing some of the guilt that stayed stagnant on your person.

“The vaultie reminded me today,” he drawled, his voice even lower than normal. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d say he was almost flustered.

“People die.”

You waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t, you raised a brow in question.

Cooper felt his heart jump to his throat. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t bare himself- not now, maybe not ever. The world felt like it started spinning around him, and he pulled his hand from yours, cradling it to your chest.

“Just hope you’re not one of ‘em, darlin’,” he finished lamely.

You swallowed, deciding it was better not to push. Not today.

“You too, Coop.”

Words simmered between you. Dangerous, terrifying words. But Cooper couldn’t get them out, couldn’t get past the panic that played his heart like a damn fiddle.

And you, well you couldn’t let go of your guilt, couldn’t see past the pain of watching the world go to shit and not doing anything to stop it.

So those words stayed unspoke, utterances of the heart, but not of the lips. Maybe, if they were never voiced, they could freeze, and eventually crumble, like time did to all.

Lucy returned then, and the unlikely group continued on as before, leaving the forgotten words to decay away in the dry sand of the Wasteland

#cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #fallout x reader #cooper howard x you #cooper howard insert #i love him #i warned y’all #anyways #bye I have no regrets

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eli0004 · 2 days

Text

Rain, Rain

Sub!Levi x Gn! Reader

Synopsis: not much of a plot, just messing around with Levi in an office while it’s storming outside.

Warnings: hand job, fist-fucking, praise, very slight pain pain play, love confessions, very soft sappy shit

A/N: This was finished way sooner than i thought it would be, i got carried away 😭 also i couldn’t think of a title that wasn’t cringe, please ignore how cliche that one is.

Before everything went to shit, this kind of rain was the biggest inconvenience for the people within the walls. Closing down market stalls, turning the grass all muddy and the sky bleak and grey. You could almost hear it, the grumbling and moaning on the streets about when this dreadful weather would pass. Nowadays, however, no one bats an eye.

You’d never minded the rain, and truthfully, neither did Levi. It’s good weather for reading indoors, or lulling you both to sleep on nights when your mind is particularly active. Often, the two of you find yourselves sitting by the window, watching the storm clouds rolling in and lighting flashing, commentating to one another every now and again when a particularly loud rumble of thunder cracks through the silence. And the rain is especially lovely when it allows you to tangle up together after particularly difficult expeditions, soft touching and gentle kisses to the sound of the droplets drumming on the window panes.

Almost as if thinking of him summoned him to your door, Levi emerges with two steaming cups, placing one on the desk in front of you.

“It’s really coming down out there.” He gestures towards the window, bringing the cup to his nose and softly inhaling the fragrant aroma before taking a sip.

“It is, isn’t it. I wonder how much longer it’ll go on for.” You respond, glancing down at the black tea in front of you. “Have you got a new one?” You ask. He nods once.

“New shipment, i like this one more than the last one i got. It was dreadfully weak.”

You chuckle softly, taking a sip and nodding. “It is stronger, hm?”

There’s a moment of silence before he speaks up again, and you notice how he has subtly inched himself closer to you.

“The rain made me think of you this morning. I wish we could’ve just taken the day off.”

He doesn’t look away from the window, but you know him well enough by now to know that there is subliminal meaning behind his words. Levi has been missing you.

“I’m glad you’re here now, let’s spend some time together, forget about today.” You reach out to beckon him closer. He willfully obeys, placing a hand on the arm of your chair and leaning down to kiss you. But you pull him in closer, and he rests his weight on his knees, placing them on either side of you. Cupping his cheek gently, you brush a thumb over his lip, leaning in once more.

Your lips meet his, ever so softly, and Levi feels like he’s floating. Nimble fingers find their way, trembling slightly, to the roots of your hair as he allows himself to melt into you completely. Your arms snake around the curve of his lower spine, pulling him down so that he is no longer hovering above you, but now sitting firmly on your lap, knees straddling your thighs. At this, he lets out a soft whimper, but it’s nearly inaudible- disappearing where your lips connect.

Levi is no stranger to this, the two of you have engaged in this sort of heavy kissing in the dark many times, but at this moment he feels strangely vulnerable. Desperation is slowly chipping away at his resolve, and suddenly he’s thinking about how it feels- having you touch more of him, peeling off his clothes. He can almost feel the warmth of your palms against his bare skin. It’s in that moment that he realizes he wants all those things. Levi wants you.

You take notice in this shift in energy, if not by the eagerness with which he’s kissing you, needy and open mouthed, then by the hardness of his cock pressing into your stomach, now noticeable through his uniform pants. You don’t push, opting to see just how far he takes things on his own initiative.

You bring one hand up to the back of his head, affectionately tugging at the thick, inky-black strands of hair. His grip on your own hair tightens at this, and he groans softly against your lips, breaking the kiss only for a moment before returning again with three times the desperation. Returning your hand to his waist, you attempt to pull him impossibly closer. Close is not enough.

Levi gasps, breathing air straight from your lungs as the motion of your adjustments sends him slightly forward, his erection pressing deliciously against your lower stomach. The feeling sends his mind reeling, and he experimentally rolls his hips forward again in attempts to replicate the feeling. At the sight of him unraveling before you, so sensitive to every touch, you raise a brow, smirking against his lips.

“You ok, Levi?” You whisper, eyes meeting his in the darkness for only a moment before he casts them downward again. He hesitates, as if he’s about to make a decision that will change the course of his entire life, hands dropping from your hair and down to his lap.

“Yeah, i’m fine. Do you think…tonight would be a good night to…y’know…” he feels his cheeks burn, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on the chair-cushion as he awaits your response. You grin softly, rubbing your palms up and down his thick thighs, softly kneading at them.

“I’m not sure i do, what is it you’re asking for?”

“Tch…you do know, I’m being serious.” He scolds you, rolling his eyes. “I want to.”

Your eyes finally meet his as he absentmindedly leans in a bit closer, and you take notice of newfound vulnerability that shines through them. His gaze is soft and longing- a stark contrast to his usual laser-focused expression- and you bring a hand up to trace a finger, softly over the wrinkles it’s left behind. Over the crease between his brows, the crows feet by his eyes, the dark bags beneath them from his many nights of exhaustion. He leans into your touch, and you speak through the silence.

“I love you.”

Levi is unable to stop the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and he crashes them against yours once again before you can comment on it. His kisses are heated, almost aggressive, and for a split second you’re taken aback by it, closing your eyes and letting your grip on his thighs loosen.

His hands find your shoulders, sliding up your neck, cupping your cheeks gently before re-tangling his fingers into your hair. You hum softly against his lips, and he slips his tongue into your mouth just enough to tease. Unsatisfied, you allow one arm to pull him snugly against you again, bringing your other to grip the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and forcing your tongue past his lips. He moans softly at this, exhaling through his nose.

Levi grinds himself forward against your stomach once again, languidly rolling his hips and pressing his dick firmly against your abdomen. By now, your mind is reeling with the thought of having him do this without those god forsaken pants to get in the way. Breaking the kiss, you look down, snapping open the buckle of his belt and nearly tearing the zipper of his pants down. He lifts himself up off your lap to shimmy out of them, tearing off his shirt in the process, as you peel off your own shirt.

Once restrictive fabric is discarded, Levi re-positions himself on top of you, shivering slightly as the air nips at his bare skin. You don’t notice the chill, already busy pressing open mouthed kisses to his bare shoulders, over his collar bone, the skin of his neck. Levi tilts his head back ever so slightly, arching his back as you trail your fingers, feather-light, down his spine. How desperately you want to leave marks there on the column of his throat, not as an act of possession, but to serve as a reminder of this moment for you to look back on tomorrow morning when the two of you must get up and dressed before sunrise. To watch him anxiously adjust his collar, making sure to hide the evidence from any wandering eyes.

Breaking away from him, you drop your gaze down to observe the wet spot seeping through the front of his underwear. You take a minute to admire the product of your ministrations, before bringing a finger to trace the dampness there. He gasps, head falling forward and bangs flopping over his eyes.

“Don’t tease, damn it…please” he breathes, shakily against your ear. “I want you.”

“I can tell.” You chuckle. Deciding against waiting any longer, you hook your index finger into the waistband of his underwear, pulling it forward to let his cock spring up against his lower belly, smearing that slick wetness below his navel, before letting go and watching it snap against his length like a rubber band. He jumps, surprised at the sting. “Hah…ouch!”

“I want these off too.”

He lifts once again to kick off the final layer, leaving him fully exposed, returning to you to present himself at your mercy. His tongue is poking through his lips as he watches you curiously, as if to try and predict your next course of action.

You place a hand on his hip, smoothing a thumb over the bone and gazing up at him lovingly. Your other hand finds its way to his stomach, open palm and fingers splayed, running it all the way up to his chest and up to his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you.

“You’re so beautiful, every inch of you, I’m enamored by it all. You know that?” He rolls his eyes, and you wrap your other hand around the base of his cock, squeezing slightly.

“Hnn..ah!” He chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You know that, Levi?” He nods, frantically, and you’re unsure if he even remembers what you’re asking, his body is melting into you, hunching forward. Chuckling softly, you begin to slowly slide your hand up and down, languidly. Thumb circling his tip every so often, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft.

Levi lets his head fall against your shoulder, huffing against your neck, his rib cage expanding and contracting with every breath. You trace over his chest, over his peaked nipple, pinching and rolling it gently between your thumb and forefinger as you continue to stroke him off, and his breath catches in his throat.

“F-fuck~” he whimpers out, jaw slackening as you speed up your pace and tighten your grip. His hips lurch forward and his hands are searching for something to hold onto, settling on gripping the back of your chair with white knuckles, snaking his other arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him, almost in a hug. You can feel his abdominal muscles beginning to tense, and you slow your pace, but Levi isn’t willing to wait any longer. His hand falls from the back of your chair to grab onto your wrist.

Holding it steady, he begins thrusting his hips forward, fucking your hand like it’s sheer instinct. Any other time, you’d stop him, but seeing him so fucked out and desperately humping into your closed fist is what prevents you from doing so. This isn’t something you see often.

Levi is dangerously close, moaning against your ear long and drawn out. Holding him close, you press your mouth against his ear and whisper “good boy, so good. You need to cum? Let go for me, ok?”

His eyes roll back, lids fluttering closed as he freezes, holding his breath for a second as his hips stutter “ah-ah oh god, fuck, i love you, i love you, i love you” he rasps out, gushing thick, creamy ropes over your fist, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as it tears through him. You smile softly at his confession and it’s timing, allowing him to guide your fist over his length to milk himself of any last drops.

And as his breathing slowly returns to normal, his tired body slumps against your own. The rain outside has begun to die down, now only a soft drizzle. You hold him there, as long as he needs, tracing shapes over the skin of his bare back. In the end though, it’s Levi who breaks the silence, whispering against your skin

“let’s get to bed, we can…uh…spend more time together there.”

#attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #aot headcanons #aot smut #aot x y/n #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman headcanons #sub!levi #sub!levi ackerman #subby levi #snk levi #snk #shingeki no kyojin #levi ackerman smut

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alexxncl · 3 days

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‼️NIGHTBRINGER HDD CH. 3 SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | events | ch. 2 | ch. 4.1 | ch. 4.2

mc stop being the most important person ever: challenge impossible

damn is this how the boys acted before they got to the devildom the first time ??? i see why they love mc so much, especially lucifer. family is the most important thing to him, it's why he acts the way he does and it's why the celestial war happened in the first place. being clouded with this much tension as a family had to have been extremely emotionally strenuous for him, aside from the frustration that comes from rowdy younger siblings

and it was obviously just as bad for his little brothers. they couldnt understand why lucifer was pulling away from them so much. and caused trouble to get any kind of attention from him, to keep him from holing himself up in his room and drowning himself in paperwork

it probably especially hurt mammon to see lucifer like this. his big brother who wants afraid of anything suddenly afraid of addressing his own feelings and fears of his family falling apart

i would like to let it be known that i was not AT ALL being serious when i picked the "can't we talk it out" option...why are we talking to a clump of glass petals ??

why am i even questioning anything that happens in this game anymore ????

BYE THIS IS SO UNSERIOUS i love it here. not obey me pulling a spiderman no way home and acting like i wouldn't catch on

and mc asking "can't we just gang up on the bitch" has to be the FUNNIEST thing ever i love them 🫶🏽 just like me fr

mammon would literally never say that. not those words at least. he respects and looks up to lucifer way too much to that. and satan wouldn't say that. the old satan would say what mammon said if we're being honest...and the new him would find a more respectful and less snippy way to say it while still getting his point across

every almost negative vision is really just lucifer's nightmare. not having the love or care or mutual respect that families are built upon is like nit having a family at all. we already know how luci feels about family. like i get that it's supposed to be funny but when you think about it in context with the game's events, this is actually really sad ???

this is also SEVERELY ooc. like i'm not crazy right ??? mammon does not use his powers like that for something as petty as a lackluster insult, and satan would come up with a much better insult than that

all jokes aside, i couldn't ever see the boys acting like this. ever. under any circumstance. even early on in the 1st game, it wasn't this bad. they butted heads and were emotionally constipated, but they still acted like brothers

i feel like the flower is showing them the worst versions of themselves, not just the way things would be without mc. bc things were relatively ok without them before. they werent the best, but they survived and didn't kill each other for millenia before mc came into the picture

fighting back the urge to go on yet another big brother mammon tangent...fighting hard

...no way they used the power of friendship to fix the situation AGAIN

now i didn't trust or particularly care for raphael in the og game, but that's mainly bc of the way he was talked about by the characters well before his appearance and the fact that he seemed standoffish. i like this raphael, and i want more

but depending on where we are in the timeline and which timeline we're in, this could be michael

oh they big mad

satan being angry is a no brainer

but beel? he's the textbook definition of a gentle giant. a himbo if you will. he goes out of his way to be gentle with everyone and everything that comes his way because he knows his strength and how easy it is for him to overuse it on accident

baby don't play when it comes to his family. just like his big brothers

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zhongrin · 4 months

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honey, can you…. un-sick me please?

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette, diluc

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, fluff, crack, 'puppy' nickname used (wriothesley), you’re sick but nothing life-threatening (common cold/flu/fever), they’re all just so soggy for you

✼ a/n ┈ i did change my formatting recently, yes. i like this one better methinks hehe

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

“dear, i assure you, the ‘passing on the sickness by kissing’ method has never been proven to work... ah, please don’t give me such downtrodden eyes, you know i cannot help but give in when you look so saddened…”

zhongli was ever so patient with your whininess, clinginess, and overall annoying (your words, not his) self when you were sick with this kind of fever. he personally thought it was adorable, the way you insisted on following him around, asking to be pampered and spoiled in such a vulnerable moment…

… and boy, did he spoil you rotten.

though his mortal vessel is incapable of catching mortal diseases, he had seen the ever-evolving medical treatments throughout the millenia to know that your request to ‘kiss me so i can heal faster’ was meant to go unfulfilled. but how could he refuse you when you look so cute? he sighed fondly and ended up peppering you with kisses all over your flushed face, a gentle smile curling his lips when you giggled and clung to him even tighter in response.

anything to soothe his treasure.

“you’re delirious. go back to bed.”

your boyfriend might sound blunt and mean, yet the way he cradled your sickly self carefully and the gentleness in which he tucked you back into bed behind the blankets was everything but uncaring. al haitham was as complex as the books he read, but if you were thorough enough, you would be able to see the worried lines creasing his eyebrows and the turmoil behind his usually impassive green eyes fringed with bright terracotta lines.

al haitham became a mirror of his grandma ever since your body proceeded to shut down on you. he would make you soup and helped you eat it when you couldn’t muster the energy to do it yourself, and he fussed over you in his own way. admittedly, he had secretly sneaked in some herbs - grown with the help of his dendro vision - into said soup, which he read would aid you in your recovery… but that was a secret he shall keep to himself.

wriothesley looked torn between wanting to laugh at you or being incredibly worried if the fever was affecting you too much. he opted to shake his head with a chuckle and hoisted you up into his arms before tucking you back to bed despite your feeble protests.

“sigewinne told you to take plenty of rest, remember? you’ll get ‘un-sick’ed soon enough if you just listen to her, you silly puppy.”

your whines and pouts did nothing to convince him otherwise. your beloved seemed intent to keep you on the bed. he was very much tempted to threaten you with a promise to cuff yourself to the bed if you keep being stubborn, but he decided not to. instead, he stayed by your bedside like a loyal hound until the medicine kicked in and you fell into a deep slumber.

“let's have a picnic under the sun when you recover, yeah? but for now, let me just guard you while you're at your most vulnerable, sweetheart.”

neuvillette, the infamously aloof and diligent iudex, was anything but austere when it came to you. one might say he takes his role as your husband more seriously than his role as the chief of justice - and considering his accomplishments as the latter, it was an understatement to say that he excelled as your lover.

the day you got sick, rain fell throughout fontaine, persistent and seemingly neverending. it mattered not if it was just a common cold. you might as well be on your deathbed judging from the saddened gaze of your dearest’s sharp eyes and the way he was calling upon all doctors in fontaine to check up on you. even when you tried to lighten up his somber mood with your words, he merely grasped your hands tighter and brought them to his forehead, silently vowing to do all he could to make you healthy again.

“it is maddening that i do not have the power to heal humans, but rest assured that i will ensure that you can recover in the fastest and most efficient way possible, my love.”

the only time master diluc would be present in the kitchen is when 1) it’s a special day to you or the both of you, or 2) you’re cooking, or 3) you’re sick.

and currently, you’ve fallen ill from your recent adventure of dancing in the rain with your beloved. it was an addition into the romantic moments which the two of you would no doubt engrave in your hearts, yet while his pyro vision had subconsciously kept your lover’s body temperature from droppimg, it failed to do the same to you - hence why you were left with a bad case of flu and sore throat.

still, being sick while being diluc’s lover had its perks: for one, there were the maids who would take a good care of you, and they were always so considerate of your needs, especially when you were in this condition. but the best part would have to be your devoted red haired man doting after you like an overly attached falcon, personally taking it upon himself to nurse you back to full health. he was ever so patient with you, chuckling when you babble nonsensically, brain fogged and loose-lipped.

“yes, dear. i shall take it upon myself to ‘un-sick’ you. now, it’s time for your medicine. i’ll help you sit up... my love, don’t make that face… i promise to give you a forehead kiss if you finish the medicine.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #al haitham x reader #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #diluc x reader #zhongli #wriothesley #al haitham #neuvillette #diluc #rin writes

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drudyslut · 3 months

Text

— summary: zach is the best boyfriend you’d ever had, he loves you, cares about you, he’s gentle with you.. but his twin brother, rafe, tempts you one night, and you can’t help but fall for it.

— warnings: smut! 18+ cheating!!! drunk!reader, aggressive!rafe, throat fucking, unprotected sex, choking, smacking, praise, degrading, iii think that’s all.

— note: @rafesthroatbaby is the fucking devil for sending me this ask she got for this idea 😩🥵 as always- likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated 🩷

❥ boyfriends brother — r.c

zach. he was the sweetest, most loving man you’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

he was sexy, captain of the men’s soccer team at your college, he had a good job lined up for him after graduation, he was everything you could have ever dreamed of and more.

but his brother… oh his twin brother, rafe.

rafe was zach’s polar opposite, no interest in sports, or working, he wasn’t sweet, he wasn’t kind or loving, but he was definitely sexy.

it was something about rafe’s mean demeanor that had you soaking your panties anytime he was around, anytime he’d throw a mean remark your way, or anytime he and zach would be arguing, you couldn’t help but ache. the sight of rafe angry, veins bulging in his neck and hands as he shouted the harshest things at his twin brother, it made you feel ways you knew were wrong.

you’d swore you’d never act on your feelings for rafe, swore you’d never let him tempt you. there was no way you’d ever sleep with your boyfriends brother.

and to be fair, you’d kept that promise… until tonight.

zach was out of town for the weekend, celebrating with his team for winning the biggest soccer game of the season. you had been staying at the cameron household for weeks, and this weekend was no different, you were used to being left at their home when zach wasn’t around.

you’re sat on the couch, downing your tenth glass of wine, head buzzing from the alcohol that was coursing through your veins. you were getting ready to call it a night, standing from your spot on the couch when a familiar low and raspy voice says your name, making your muscles tense, arousal already beginning to soak your panties.

“what’re you doing? drinking all by yourself?”

you glance up, eyes meeting rafe’s bright blue ones. he was wearing nothing but a pair of baby blue sweatpants that hung low on his hips, his perfectly tanned and toned chest and abdomen on display.

you shakily move your hand to grab your wine glass and the half drank bottle from the table, stuttering out a response in the process. “uh… y-yeah. i- the alcohol helps me.. uh- it helps me sleep”

rafe takes a step toward you, his head hung low before he slowly lifts it back up, eyes scanning the length of your body. you suck in a shaky breath, rolling your head from side to side as you try and gain your composure.

“yeah? you know what helps me sleep..” he pauses, taking a few more slow steps toward you until he’s standing directly in front of you, his large hands making their way to your face and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “sex.. yeah it uh, it helps me sleep”

you tense underneath his touch, the feeling of his fingers brushing over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze to the floor beneath you, “uh, yeah.. that uh, that’s a good way to sleep too”

rafe places his index finger and thumb on your chin, lifting your head back up, forcing your eyes on him. you feel your breathing accelerate, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

he dips his head down, lips ghosting over yours. you press your palms firmly against his chest, trying to shove him back, but he grips at your wrists with his free hand, shoving them back down to your sides, “don’t try and tell me you don’t think of me in the ways i think of you, i know you want me. zach doesn’t know how to properly take care of a girl like you, a fucking whore. you need to be fucked like the whore you are”

“r-rafe. i-i can’t. i.. this is wrong, i-i love zach”

rafe chuckles darkly, his hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing tightly. he pushes you down onto your knees, his free hand shoving his sweats and boxers down his legs, his large cock springing free.

“i love zach” he mocks, “i know you don’t fucking love him, if you did, you wouldn’t give me those desperate ‘fuck me’ eyes every single fucking time you see me. now, be a good fucking girl, and suck my cock, yeah?”

you glance up at him, his normally bright blue eyes now dark, glazed over with lust. he releases his grip on your throat, his hand making its way into your hair and tugging. you swallow thickly before spitting down into your palm, slowly wrapping your hand around his thick length. you begin slowly pumping at his cock, pulling low groans from him.

you dip your head down, licking a long stripe up the underside of his shaft, leaving soft kisses to his swollen head, licking up the precum that had leaked from the tip. you hum in satisfaction when you taste him, finally wrapping your lips around his head and swirling your tongue around it. you slowly push more of his throbbing cock into your mouth, a slow and steady pace made as you bobbed your head up and down his length.

rafe tightens his grip in your hair, shoving himself fully down your throat and keeping you stuck, nose pressed against his pelvis. you begin gagging around him, his dick lodged deep in your throat pulling tears from your eyes, drool running down the sides of your mouth and his balls.

he harshly pulls your head back, his cock slipping from your mouth with a loud pop. you begin gasping for air, sucking in deep breaths. he grasps at his cock, slapping his tip against your cheek before slowly sliding himself back into your mouth, hips harshly thrusting in and out of your mouth, his swollen head beating at the back of your throat.

he continues his harsh thrusts, the sounds of your gagging and his low groans bouncing off the walls of the living room. his thrusts grow sloppy, dick pulsing in your mouth, signaling his impending release before he quickly pulls himself from your mouth.

you whine, the need of wanting to taste him strong, “raaaafe! why’d you do that? wanted to taste you” you pout.

he lands a harsh slap across your cheek, your neck snapping to the side. your hand flys to your cheek, rubbing at the spot as tears filled your eyes, “wh-what was th-” you begin to ask, but your words die, a squeal pulled from you when rafe yanks you off your knees.

his hands fly to the waistband of your silk sleep shorts, pulling them down your legs along with your panties. he grips at your thighs, giving a light tap against your ass, “jump” he demands, and you quickly obey.

your wrap your legs around his hips, his hard cock pressing firmly against your clit. rafe places one arm completely underneath your ass, keeping you upright while he free hand forces its way between the two of you, grasping his cock and sliding his head through your arousal slick entrance.

you begin whimpering, the head of his cock pushing into you slowly and then being pulled right back out. you gasp when he finally sinks himself inside of you, his tip stroking at your gspot, cock splitting you in half.

“holy fuck! rafe!”

he buries his head into the crook of your neck, mouth attacking at the skin as he starts fucking himself up into your pussy.

you’re a moaning mess, strings of curses and shouts of his name falling past your lips as he walks you toward a wall, your back being harshly pinned against it. rafe uses both hands to hold you upright, his palms tightly gripping at the plump flesh, his cock relentlessly pounding into you.

“fuck! feel s’good, tell me, who fucks you better? hmmm? me or my fucking brother?”

you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, tears pricking at your eyes as the realization of what you’re doing finally hits you. this was your boyfriends brother.. you were betraying zach, he would be heartbroken if he ever found out.

tears begin streaming down your face, a mix of pain and pleasure rushing through your body. rafe’s demanding voice and hand squishing at your cheeks has you snapping back into reality.

“fucking answer me! who fucks this pussy better?”

you whimper, “i-i.. fuck! rafe! i can’t”

rafe slows his thrusts, his mouth finding yours and leaving a hot, searing kiss to your lips. he pulls himself back, continuing his slow and sensual thrusts inside of you, “go on, fucking say it. i fuck this pussy better than zach. s’not that hard, little fucking slut loves being fucked by her boyfriends brother”

you whimper when he harshly thrusts up, your inner walls clenching around him tightly as your orgasm threatens to burst from you.

“say it!” rafe shouts, his brutal thrusts picking up in pace.

you let your head fall forward, face buried in the crook of his neck as you shout, “fuck! you fuck me better than zach! fuck rafe, ‘m gonna cum!”

rafe chuckles, “fuckin’ knew it! go on baby, soak my fucking cock, be a good fucking girl f’me and cum all over me”

the mix of his harsh thrusts and his words have you tumbling over the edge, your arousal squirting out of you and soaking rafe’s cock and thighs.

he continues fucking himself up into you, his hips stuttering and dick pulsing, “fuck, gonna fill you up with my cum, you fuckin’ want that? wanna have my cum inside your greedy little pussy?”

“y-yes! please cum inside me, rafe! i need it so badly!”

his hips stutter, his dick twitching inside you, the thick white ropes of his cum spilling inside you and painting your inner walls.

his thrusts slow, slipping his now softening cock from inside you and placing your feet back onto the ground. the room is silent, rafe turning on his heels and making his way toward his discarded sweatpants.

you awkwardly make your way toward the couch, grabbing your panties and shorts off the floor and pulling them up your legs. you watch as rafe makes his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing himself a water.

“uh… rafe-” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“you don’t want zach to know, right?”

you awkwardly chuckle, “uh.. yeah. please, zach can never find out about this.. i- i really do love him”

rafe takes a quick sip from his water, pulling the bottle from his lips and smirking at you, “that’s fine. under one condition”

you narrow your eyes in confusion, your head slightly tilted to the side as you wait on him to finish.

“i get to fuck you whenever i want”

your eyes nearly pop out of your head, was he fucking crazy? there was no way you would do this again, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“what? rafe, we can’t ever do this again!”

rafe takes two long strides toward you, his hand making its way onto your cheek, “that’s the rule baby. i get to fuck you whenever i want, and zach never finds out”

you nervously chew at the skin on your bottom lip, contemplating what to say.

“i- fine! fine, if that’s what it takes.. but rafe.. i- this isn’t right, he’s your brother!”

rafe snorts out a laugh, “and? i don’t give a fuck, you’re mine now. mine to use, mine to fuck. whenever i want. night princess, i’ll see you tomorrow”

he makes his way toward the spiral staircase, disappearing up the stairs and leaving you dumbfounded and confused. what had you gotten yourself into?

RAFE TAGLIST: @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @mel119g @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @urmyslxt @sierraluvz @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @bigslay86 @buckyisveryhot @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @urbestieboo

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #zach mclaren #zach mclaren x reader

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Note

Could I request headcanons for Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his shy gender neutral crush accidentally sitting on his lap? They get off immediately while apologising the moment they realised!

A/N - Ahhhhh this prompt idea is so adorable ;-;!!!!!

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Masterlist

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Astarion -

~ Astarion would definitely not let you forget something like this.

~ After a particularly hard day full of fighting, I can see the whole camp deciding to relax and pass around one or two (or a case) of wine.

~ The alcohol goes straight to your head and you’re tripping over your feet in no time. This isn’t a problem, that is until… you stumble and trip your way right into Astarion’s lap

~ Your cheeks get all red, your words coming out with a plethora of excuses and Astarion basks in your embarrassment with glee.

~ He’s secretly loving it for another reason, that being the closeness of you against him now. You’ve been much too shy up to this point to even look him in the eye, let alone touch him

~ You’re falling over yourself trying to get up, apologizing more times than anyone can count and of course Astarion has all the petty things anyone could ever say

~ “If you wanted a place on my lap, you need only ask, darling.”

~ He loves it even more the next morning when he notices that now you can’t even look in his general direction without turning a beautiful shade of red

Gale -

~ Gale would be all jokes if you accidentally sat on him, trying his best to ease the awkward tension

~ “You know, I always thought I looked like an awkwardly plush chair” he would tease, lending a hand to help you up

~ I think he would love the flush to your cheeks, knowing you’re absolutely mortified by the experience.

~ He wouldn’t tell a soul about it, not even in jest. He knows how shy you are and knows the accident would only embarrass you further if your other companions caught wind of it, even if part of him wanted to brag

~ Instead, he would playfully point out ever tripping hazard while with you, leaving it an inside joke between the two of you

Wyll -

~ I can definitely see you losing your balance while practicing a difficult attack, landing right into the Devil’s lap

~ Wyll would be as charming as ever about the whole situation, making a dramatic flourish as he “caught you”

~ He’d probably rave on and on about how the ‘Blade of the Frontiers’ often had to catch damsels in distress as they fell into his awaiting arms. Everyone else may think this was because he was a braggart, but you knew deep down he did it to ease your embarrassment

~He would definitely be kind enough to ignore your reddened cheeks, whispering that everything was absolutely alright as you shot up practically shouting an “I’m sorry”

~ From that moment on, though, he always made sure to be the closest one to you, making sure he’d be there if you needed a knight in shining armor’s lap to save you again

Halsin -

~ You would be immensely tired after a long day of traveling, not even looking where your feet planted as you plopped down on what you thought was a log.

~ You practically jump out of your skin when strong arms wrap around you casually, Halsin continuing on his conversation with the others as if nothing happened

~ You would feel the red hot embarrassment in every nerve of your body, hissing to Halsin to let go, apologizing for sitting on him

~ He would cling on for a few moments, letting out a deep chuckle at your blunder

~ “Think nothing of it, my heart, I simply thought you wanted to sit somewhere softer than the ground. Would you prefer to sit on me if I were a bear?”

~ You couldn’t even answer him, smacking his chest and jumping out of his arms

~ Thank goodness it was dark, you wouldn’t want anyone seeing the goofy smile on your face paired with the knowing grin on the gentle giant elf

Dammon -

~ Dammon would be so generously kind as you accidentally sat on him, helping you back up, worried he made you uncomfortable

~ He would definitely be the only one to be more embarrassed than you, his cheeks the exact same shade of red. He’d try to play it off, but the cracks in his voice gave it away immediately

~ Both of you would be an adorable mess of apologies and stutters, trying to ignore how nice it was to be that close only moments earlier.

~ He would finally clear his throat, trying to change the subject as the red in his cheeks began to even seep down to his neck.

~ You both finally relaxed a little, smiling relieved smiles

~ That is until a very loud, very obvious Astarion would gesture between the two of you, “When the hell are you two going to finally admit you like each other! Seriously, this is getting difficult to watch”

~ It would take days before the you and Dammon could make it through a conversation without sounding like a bumbling lovesick kit after that

Rolan -

~ If anyone could be more awkward than Dammon when you sat on his lap, it would absolutely be Rolan. Apparently the invisibility spell he was trying out worked a little too well.

~ You would let out a shriek as you sat down, expecting the chair to feel… well… like a chair. You spun around to an apologetic smile and hands held up in defense

~ Both of you would choke out an “im sorry” at the same time, giggling a little breathlessly

~ “What the hell were you doing as a chair?” You’d complain, trying to swallow away the embarrassment, not knowing it was written across all of your features

~ “We’ll, technically, I wasn’t a chair” He’d say defensively, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of his already crimson skin

~ Neither of you spoke of it after, but you definitely didn’t miss the way Rolan seemed extra attentive in the days after

Zevlor -

~ Zevlor would be sickly sweet about all of it, a little disappointed when you didn’t stay for more than a moment

~ You’d make up for that when your sweet quiet voice would squeak out some apologies, eyes looking anywhere but him. He so very loved when you were embarrassed like this

~ He’d brush it off quickly, pulling up your hand to kiss it gently

~ This would make you blush more but that was probably his whole goal to begin with

~ “I’m completely at your disposal.” He’d say, taking every opportunity to memorize the shy smile you gave him

#bg3 fanfiction #bg3 headcanons #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #astarion x you #bg3 astarion #gale x reader #bg3 gale #wyll x reader #bg3 wyll #halsin x reader #bg3 halsin #dammon x reader #bg3 dammon #rolan x reader #bg3 rolan

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azullumi · 3 months

Note

trying different types of kissing with scaramouche?💔 like forehead, neck kisses, hand or anything at all....

“say yes to heaven” ; wanderer/scaramouche

summary — ultimately, he really does just want to be loved, behind the many layers of him to hide all that yearning and longing. but how can he say it when love, for him, was a synonym to forgiveness; alternatively, different kisses with him, with each one signifying a progressing relationship.

pairing — scaramouche/wanderer (w/ gender-neutral reader) ; could imagine this with either but i wrote this with wanderer in mind

tags — established relationship, fluff, a little bit of angst, not proofread, 1.1k ; ficlet

note — i needed an excuse to write a fic that is just all about kissing him and also comforting him (but still, i hope u like this nonnieee!!)

i. hand

You hold his hand and press small kisses on his knuckles, a little bit ticklish it was for him but he doesn’t retract. The feeling of it makes something in his chest ache with an unfamiliar sensation, and he knows it’s not his heart because he never had any.

You kiss the back of his hand, an intimate gesture, like devotion, like he was something—or someone—that should be adored.

“I am no god.” He was no deity to be worshiped so why are you so gentle to him? He wasn’t made of glass nor is he fragile; he was born from ashes of a burned home, he was carved out of war and winter storms and everything that you could ever pray against, he was a symphony composed of nothing but bad luck and conflicting melodies—he was not the kind people would choose to be around, much less adore.

And as if you bear a part of him in your mind, you understood what he was trying to say, could hear the questions that tormented him, could see the conflicted look on him as he looks at you with a gaze that seems to scrutinize your being when only he is looking for an answer. He tries to look for a crack, a gap in your expression, so that he can look through it and see what you’re really thinking.

“You don’t have to be one to be loved.” You press one last kiss on his hand just as you finished speaking, looking up to him. Indigo blue orbs met yours in a gentle gaze, eyes filled with affection only for the other to drown in. If he could put all that he was feeling, all that he was asking and seeking an answer to, into a simple word, it all condenses to: why?

“Do you still have doubts?” You ask, despite knowing the answer. He opens his mouth only to close it again, looking for the words that he should say but chose to be silent instead. And you smile—not a beaming grin nor a subtle paint on your features, but something gentle and comforting as if you’re assuring him: it’s okay, I understand you. I know you.

“You’re not unloveable.”

Loving him wasn’t the hardest thing to do, it came to you naturally as if breathing but the man thinks otherwise. A burnt child who loves the fire will only hear the fact that he is loveable, people just choose not to.

“How do you know that?” You know him well enough to hear the way his voice trembles at the effort to allow himself to be vulnerable. Long was the fall of the tall and formidable walls that he built around him.

“You’re not unloveable.” You repeat, taking hold of his fingers to kiss his hand once more. “Am I not enough proof of that?”

ii. forehead and cheeks

You cupped his cheeks and kissed his forehead, an unspoken language of tenderness in which he took a long time to understand. When love and affection has finally been given to him after decades of yearning, he’s unsure of how to hold it in his hands—does he gently hold it with both? Every bit overwhelms him to the bone, the gratifying yet intense feeling seeps through his being and settles inside of him in a way that it slowly consumes the crevices of his mind, until all that is left of him is nothing but a starved man who only longs for the feeling of your skin against his own.

There was a flicker of warmth in his expression and he closed his eyes as he relished in your kindness, your hands cradling his cheeks with warmth that coaxed his entire existence, your lips pressing against his forehead softly. Then, you started to pepper his face with small kisses and the man could only surrender to your touch, a dance of vulnerability and intimacy as he crumbled into your hold.

No one has ever come this close to him (a closeness that was a stranger to the pages of his past, a tender note composed solely for him), no one and nothing.

You spoke, murmuring against his skin and close to his lips: “Sunshine.” Humor weaves through your tone, teasing the absurdity of the mismatched title and the man who wears it with subtle grace.

“Don’t call me that.” He snarks yet no bite. It’s ironically funny how you use that nickname on him despite him being the complete contrast of it; he stands as the living paradox of the word itself.

The sound of laughter bubbles up in your throat and you answer, “Why not? It suits you perfectly, don’t you think?”

What else should you call the man who grasps the warmth and tender light in his chest only the sun could give? To be with him was to sit in the autumn sunlight, to sleep in the comfort of your sheets when the rain patters against your window, to walk barefoot on the sand even if it feels like shards of glasses against your sole, to be with him was to simply exist; you’ve never met anyone who had the sun for a soul and he has never met anyone who had the stars in their eyes, and while you had the universe etched on the palm of your hands, he has your name engraved on his.

iii. lips

Your lips ghost against his own, albeit in a tantalizing manner, teasing and quite slow—but he wasn’t a patient man.

“Are you going to kiss me or what?” He whispers and you don't waver at his straightforwardness, having been used to this note. There was no hostility in his tone, just pure and raw desperation and desire to feel you.

You could imagine the eye roll he would give you had he not had his eyes closed at the moment, could imagine the frown on his expression while he spoke and could imagine it faltering soon when you finally kissed him, slow as if to savor the softness of his lips and how it reminds you of spring; he could not properly express the warmth on his chest at the thought of how you love him when he still tasted of heartache and war.

You part from him but remained close, foreheads pressed against one another, breathing heavily, and looking into each other’s eyes. You wanted to tell him that you will find him in every lifetime, but the silence between you two was enough to convey such strong affections that you could hear him respond: And I will love you in each one.

(And he somehow finds himself thinking at the same, this is what he deserves. He’d do these, these vulnerable moments where he lays himself bare for you to touch and hold even if you’ll see the scars and cracks on his skin, the falling and getting hurt despite the fear, the burning and constant searching for something, he’ll do it all over again—if it’s you.)

If someone were to ask him what forgiveness tastes like, he would utter your name—everything that he has ever longed for came in the form of you. And he fears that this longing will last forever even while you’re here, that this longing will grow even when he crumbles to dust, that this longing will outlive this body and weave life into the earth that swallows your existence.

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche x you #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche x reader #wanderer scaramouche #genshin wanderer #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer x reader #wanderer fluff #wanderer genshin #azul.writes

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classicalchan · 5 months

Text

liar

pairing: bangchan x f! reader

rating: sfw

tags: sharing a bed, just pure softness, cuddling, best friends to lovers, pining, confessions, tired chan

wc: i'm too lazy to count but idk it's probably 2k 😭(I'm definitely wrong)

your doorbell rings when it's close to midnight, its sound reverberating through every corner of your little apartment. your socked feet carry you from bed to the door on autopilot. you weren't sleeping, but you were nearly there.

you open up your front door and off-white light from the hallway spills shamelessly into your dark living space. Chan stands there, bag slung lazily across his shoulder, eyes droopy with sleep.

"they borrowed my place for a party i don't wanna be at," he declares. "I'm sleeping here."

he walks in without waiting for an answer, wrapping you in a quick, one-armed hug for a greeting on his way. his bag finds its place on your couch. he switches a couple of lamps on here and there and fixes a photo frame on his way to your bathroom with a towel and some clothes in hand.

you kind of like how it's so natural for him to be at your place. like he belongs here. like he could live here.

you wished he would.

you lay back in bed, shifting to a side, leaving the rest of the space for Chan. ever since you first cuddled up with him a few months ago, it became an unspoken rule between you to always sleep cuddled up when alone.

it was one of the best parts of your friendship with him. you could abandon every care in the world when he was around and just be. He was always there- gentle, warm, protective, kind. everything you wished for in a man.

everything you can't have.

it had been weeks since you had gone to bed without thinking of him. even in the face of extreme exhaustion and no contact, Chan never failed to slip into your thoughts. he needed to compensate you for all the nights you couldn't sleep just because he did something adorable during the day and you wouldn't stop thinking about it.

he needed to apologize for every time you accidentally called one of your friends by his name, just because he wouldn't leave your head.

and he needed to desperately make up for nights like these. nights when he would touch you and let you touch him, but never enough. there was always a weighted, invisible boundary you hated with all your guts. a burning line you couldn't cross.

so, over the days, you had learned to make peace with what you got, no matter how little. you had learned to make the most of his arms around you, the firmness of his torso pressed to your back, the warmth of his breathing behind your ear, his occasional sleepy rambling.

sometimes he said your name.

before you knew it, the mattress dips beside you, the familiar scent of Chan's shampoo filling up your senses. you came alive a little.

his arm slips across your middle, pulling you as close as humanly possible into the abyss that was his warmth. you could spend an eternity here without a syllable of protest falling from your lips.

“i don’t have a shirt on, is that okay?” he mumbles into your hair.

more than okay, you wanted to say but for the sake of the friendship you had spent years building, you resorted to a small hum. he usually slept barely clothed, but when with you, he always asked. he made sure never to cross any lines. he was cautious, reserved. too far.

“is everything okay?” you ask. “you usually do not turn down a chance to party.”

you feel him move behind you, long fingers fiddling with the thin fabric of your t-shirt. he yawns like a puppy.

“i’d had a busy day,” he begins. “i needed some sleep and you know how bad i am at getting to sleep alone...”

his knuckle accidentally brushes your navel. you shiver.

“…besides you weren’t there. i’ve missed having you around y/n, now that i see it.”

your skin flushes hot, lips involuntarily swelling into a smile. you turn your face into your pillow, determined to bury your happiness into the fluff.

“i’ve missed you too,” you confess.

his blunt nails graze against your flesh again, and you wonder how much of it was accidental anymore. could Chan tell? did he know how down bad you were for him?

“liar,” he whispers, squeezing your body lightly into his own.

he liked to do that, you had noticed. almost as if finding a way to inch closer, as if making up for the fact that there would always be some molecular distance between you no matter what.

or maybe you were just reading too much into it.

you place a hand over his own, fingertips drawing subtle lines into his pale skin, tracing the veins you stared at shamelessly in broad daylight.

“you really think i’d lie to you?”

“you wouldn’t?” he asks.

you turned around, facing him. your hand settles on his bare chest. you could feel his heart beat beneath your touch.

“no,” you confirm. “never.”

he smiles, his hair getting into his eyes as he puts his forehead against yours.

“okayyy,” he giggles. “tell me something then, since you claim to not lie.”

your heart picks up pace, hammering beneath your chest, and you were half afraid Chan might hear it. you swallow thickly, a small lump forming in your throat.

“yeah?”

his gaze wraps over you like a veil, clouding everything else just enough that he is all you can see.

"do you like me?" he whispers.

the question drops in your heart and sinks into your gut. you've been caught, red-handed. but you were so careful, so vigilant, looking but never for too long, complimenting him but being careful not to flirt, telling him you love him when he needed to hear it but taking care to conceal the love you felt.

you want to play it cool. you're scared of how it's going to go.

"duh," you say. "of course i like you, why else would we be friends?"

he clicks his tongue, a soft laugh escaping his lips. he drops a light kiss on your forehead and you sigh.

"you're not that naive," he states. "come on, I'll wait for you."

you feel your cheeks heat up. it gets harder by the second to stay still, not with chan's fingers rubbing warmth into your back, his face so close you could steal a kiss. he was no fool. he never had been. who did you think you were hiding from?

"i..." you begin, your mouth drying up. "yeah."

you feel his marble fingers slip under your chin. pressure, soft but commanding, forced you to look at him.

"you what, sweetheart?"

the endearment sent you spiraling. you squeeze his muscled shoulder, fingers digging into flesh.

"don't be an ass," you say. "i'm not gonna say it."

he chuckles. you watch his gaze move across your face, settle on your lips, and then back to your eyes again. you didn't want to think ahead of yourself.

you didn't want to break your heart.

he leaned in, his arm circling around your waist, his mouth leaving a soft kiss to your temple. you could die like this and it wouldn't be so bad.

"please," he whispers. "you said you'd be honest."

and who were you to turn down chan with his gentle voice and sturdy hands and body warmth and huge heart and ---? you could go on forever.

you grind your teeth together unconsciously, draw in a deep breath, and sigh. he knows you're giving in.

"i do like you," you admit finally. "so much more than a friend."

his palm slides up your back and finds your hair, long fingers gripping them and pulling you in. he smiles when he kisses you- mouth tasting of cinnamon and longing and want.

"fucking finally," he breathes. "you've got no idea how long i've waited for this."

you melt into a caramel puddle in his hands. you lean in again, pressing your lips onto his like he'd disappear, like this is all you've got.

taglist: @tinysoftie

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join the taglist <3

#bangchan #bangchan x reader #bangchan fluff #bangchan skz #chan skz #chan x you #bangchan fic #bangchan headcanons #bangchan stray kids #chan fic #stray kids #skz #chan fluff #cuddling #best friends to lovers #bang chan #skz fluff #skz x reader #skz imagines

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nsharks · 1 year

Note

can we see more of dad ghost ♥︎ im obsessedLMAO

“soft around the edges”

aka when ghost’s son runs up to him in front of the team (a little part 2 to this fic. part 3 here.)

Soap doesn't share the Lieutenant's secret with the rest of the force.

Things go back to normal after that brief, bizarre encounter with you. When their break is over, Ghost carries on the typical dry humor and sharp orders, pretending that Soap never had dinner at his cozy home and met his pregnant wife.

Though, MacTavish does notice little differences in his stoic superior turned new dad. Ghost is shockingly, and ever-so-slightly, nicer. His language is still foul. But he's a little less rough around the edges: compliments Soap a bit more, tells him to shut the fuck up a little bit less.

It's not something that any of the others notice, of course, which is why they are all so baffled when they finally do figure out about Ghost's secret family.

It's two years later when they are disbanding at a base in the UK that you accidentally reveal yourself.

It's truly an accident.

Whenever you pick him up from the military base, Simon instructs you to wait outside. Says he doesn't want to put you at any risk. But you have a knack for not listening to him. You missed him so much during the past four months, and the two-year-old in your arms was old enough to start asking where his dad was, so you figured you could wait for him inside this time, hidden away in a corner.

Your plan might have worked if it weren't for the swell of your belly making it difficult for you to hold the squirming toddler.

He recognizes his dad even with the skull mask on.

Immediately starts to yelp for him, kicking his little feet around, and giving you no choice but to set the toddler down for a second. But your son is growing so much, and he's got his father's determination.

It's definitely riveting for Soap and the team to witness the whole thing unfold.

At first sight, the waddling two-year-old boy doesn't faze them. There were usually family members and little ones waiting at the gate. Gaz and Price are saying their goodbyes when they both notice that the toddler running around is coming in their direction. Or more specifically, in Ghost's direction.

Soap knows right away what's happening.

Watches with raised brows.

For the rest of the team, this is the first time they witness Ghost's demeanor shift to something so soft and peculiar. His mannerisms give everything away before the kid even reaches him: a typically-unfazed Ghost looks around frantically, probably wondering how the hell his son even got here, until he spots you waddling sheepishly after him.

Oh, fuckin' hell.

You give your husband an apologetic look that says I'm sorry and help me at the same time.

“Can’t believe what I’m seeing," Gaz mutters, watching as Ghost bends down to pick up the small child.

Tell me 'bout it, Soap wants to say. But he's already gone through the initial disbelief two years ago, so now, he simply watches with knowing eyes.

He can't say he didn't spend some time the past two years wondering what kind of parents you and Ghost had become. He knew bits and pieces of his past and hesitantly wondered if Ghost had carried on that behavior.

But now he witnesses the Lieutenant scoop the toddler in his arms, making him look so small against his broad chest. “I’ve got ya, kid.” And he is tucking the boy's head underneath his chin and pressing his masked nose to the top of his hair.

Then, the toddler reaches a small hand to his mask and pats it, perhaps harder than he realizes, but Ghost simply shakes his head and patiently wraps his much larger hand around the curious little one’s.

Ghost is soft and gentle and anything but angry, even though you worried that he might have been.

Everything seems to sink in for the team when they see you finally reach your husband. Your mouth moving to rush out apologies:

"I'm sorry, Simon, I know you said to wait outside. We just really wanted to see you and I tried to hold him and-"

And Ghost might have been frustrated on another day. But on this day, he’s just relieved to see you again. It's apparent to all of the eyes watching that this brooding man, with his deadpan eyes and a trademark mask, is utterly and unabashedly in love with you and the little family you have gifted him. Finally able to fully relax as he wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles your neck, something you could never imagine him doing in public like this a few years ago.

“S’okay, love,” he tells you. “Can’t be mad, can I? Not when I get to see you two.”

You’re carrying his second child and he hasn't seen you in months and he simply doesn't give a fuck at the moment.

To his team watching, the Lieutenant seems like another person.

They're watching Simon, not Ghost.

"That's his girl, then?" Alejandro finally asks, as they have been frozen in place. Watching in curiosity and bewilderment.

“Wife seems like,” Gaz says. Shooting Soap a curious look, he adds, “Did you know anything about this?”

“Hell,” Soap shrugs to feign innocence. “Didn’t know a thing-“

But, of course, you’re soon waving over at him and smiling before your husband can stop you. “Hi, Johnny!”

Guilty and caught, Soap offers a small wave in return before shaking his head. “Christ, alright. May have ran into them awhile back.”

“And you didn’t tell us, MacTavish?” Gaz scoffs.

“Not my secret to tell,” Soap shrugs again and watches as Ghost caresses your pregnant stomach. He leans down to whisper something in your ear and you smile coyly at him, planting a little kiss to the cheek of his hard mask. Ghost is somehow able to hold you and your son firmly against his chest and still have more room. Must be what had the two of you realizing that a fourth family member was needed.

Soap hears the snide remarks as your family leaves and is out of earshot.

Looks like Ghost keeps himself busy on leave.

You think he helps with the diapers?

The kid’s even got his eyes.

Reckon he takes the mask off during sex?

Finally, Soap groans out, “Haud yer wheesht. That’s enough.”

“Sergeant’s right,” Price, whose own surprise has faded into something more stern, quiets the members of the team who are still lingering. “That’s your superior you’re gosspin’ about. Show some respect and bugger off.”

But once the Captain is gone, Soap allows himself this one quip (because, he’d been so good at not sharing what he’d seen for two years).

It’s a quiet one that he mentions only to Kyle.

“He takes her shopping an’ carries all the bags. Saw it myself.”

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod #call of duty #fanfiction #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost #fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #fem!reader #dad ghost

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mistiell · 7 months

Note

If you’re doing requests and it’s not too much trouble what about Astarion and getting patched up and taken care of by mc

Here you go babes <33 (Also, if he's a little out of character, I apoligize, I really did try my best lol) WC: 1k

---

“Ow! Gods, could you at least try to be gentle?” Astarion hisses at the sting of the salve you’ve concocted, startling you into jerking the cloth you’re using away.

You huff and drop your hands into your lap, brows furrowed in very clear annoyance, “I am trying. If you’d stop squirming, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Well, if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming, would I?” He quips. You roll your eyes.

Taking his wrist ever so gently, you turn it so you can see the gash on his forearm, fingers deft and kind even despite his whining. He’s being difficult; unreasonable. You’d be justified in being cruel with him.

You’re careful not to press so hard as you swipe the cloth over the jagged edge of his wound, blood seeping into the fabric and staining the off-white linen a dark crimson. Mouth quirked down, your face is drawn tight with a frustration he’s never seen on you before.

He hates it.

The fabric catches with a jolt of pain and he flinches more than he would normally, startling you away again.

You tut at him, stern, “Astarion.”

Sighing, he returns his arm to you wordlessly and glances away with a small, “Sorry.”

“You should have been more careful.” You chastise as you press the cloth against his wound; firm, but not harsh. Never harsh.

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, “So you're saying this is my fault.”

He wasn’t being serious, but it seems you take it as such. Your nose scrunches, and for a split second, you look properly upset with him. He’s expecting you to snap at him, maybe shout and finally leave him to tend to his wounds alone as he usually would.

You don’t. Instead, you take a breath and sigh, looking rather disappointed.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Contrary to what you may believe, I do actually care about you and your wellbeing.” Your voice is void of any sort of humour as you look back at his arm. Swapping the soiled cloth for a smaller, cleaner one, you fold it in half and press it to his arm, not sparing him a glance as you instruct him, “Hold this.”

He does as you’ve asked, and a stifling silence engulfs his tent. As you rifle through some healing supplies, he tries to come up with a way to get you talking again.

“Why-,” His voice doesn’t come out right and he clears his throat to fix it. It comes out wrong anyway, “Why are you helping me? This wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve dressed a wound on my own, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” You reply as you begin securing the cloth to his arm with bandages, “No one deserves to suffer alone.”

The sentiment makes his stomach twist. “No one?” He huffs a wry puff of laughter, “Not even someone like Cazador?”

Your face contorts in abhorrence, “I meant good people don’t deserve to suffer alone. That bastard deserves every bit of suffering he has coming to him.”

He barely even registers the second part of what you’ve said, too busy reeling from the first.

Good people don’t deserve to suffer alone.

Good people.

“You... think I’m good?” He asks far too softly.

Finally looking back up at him, you look utterly confused as you nod, “Of course I do.”

He opens his mouth only to find he’s seemingly lost his voice. His gaze flits over just about every inch of your face, searching for any sign that you’re lying; a glance away, a twitch of your mouth. Anything.

He doesn’t find one. His heart sinks and sings simultaneously and suddenly, he can barely breathe.

“Why?” He murmurs. Part of him thinks he’s not equipped to cope with your answer.

There’s a moment where you just... look at him. He’d say staring, but he doesn’t think that’s quite what this is. What you’re doing would be better described as seeing him; all of him. His heart, his soul. Everything.

“Good people can do bad things and still be good, Astarion. And being good doesn’t always mean being a saint.” Your voice is kind; tender. Maybe a little joking towards the end. He guesses you’ve seen the apprehension on his face when your hands slide down his arm to cradle his own. Dipping to catch his gaze, your own is suddenly serious; unwavering, “What happened to you, the things you did. None of that was your fault. You told me what Cazador did to you when you disobeyed him. I’d be just as terrible to deem you a monster for going along with it knowing what would have happened to you if you didn’t.”

Your words strike him like a hard blow to the chest. Perhaps he’s not all that concerned with being a good person, but he’s never truly wanted to be evil, either.

Eyes stinging, he lets out a shaky breath through his nose as he cups the nape of your neck to guide your forehead to his lips. He lingers there for a moment before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, mumbling against your hairline, “Thank you.”

Snaking your arms around his waist, you squeeze him just as fiercely, “Of course, my love.”

The laugh that escapes him comes out too watery for his liking, but he finds he doesn’t mind quite as much when its only you around to hear, “‘My love’? Isn’t that my line?”

You snort, and he feels you smile against his collar, “Perhaps.” “You do know that reusing material that isn’t yours is in poor taste, don’t you, darling?”

“Hush.” You pull back smiling, shaking your head as you ask in faux exasperation, “Now, will you please let me finish bandaging this?”

He follows your gaze to his arm and huffs dramatically, “I suppose.” “Oh, you suppose, do you?” You sass as you take hold of his wrist again, careful not to wrap the bandages too tight, “Do you also suppose you’ll sit still for me this time?”

“I do.” He grins.

And he does.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x mc #hurt/comfort

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talaok · 4 months

Text

A gentleman

This is my gift to @lucyeyelesbarrow for the Pedrostories Secret Santa event💖

Pairing: bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend is a good guy, but he's not so good at sex, but thankfully, his dad makes up for it

Warnings: smut| Cheating, kinda exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), a bit of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n just overuse of pet names, no use of Joel either, just Mr. Miller and sir (so naturally we've got a bit of a sir kink).

a/n: babe you said slut by Taylor and i ran with it. also, this didn't turn out as good as I wanted, but nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. And huge thanks to @decembermidnight cause this idea is basically (completely) hers so give her some love or smth.

Jason was a good guy,

he was such a good guy, always so kind, always gentle and respectful... everything any girl could ever dream of, right?

wrong

He should have been, he really should have been the perfect man, but he wasn't.

He wasn't a man, he was just a boy

A really nice, sweet, cute boy that had just one, little, big problem... he fucked like one.

He fucked like he was scared of breaking you, actually, no he didn't fuck at all... he made love, which would have been fine... if it wasn't for the fact that he wasn't any good at it.

Every time you had sex he lasted no more than a few minutes (on his good days) and it was always just the same, always missionary, always slow and breathy and just not... right.

And it's not like you hadn't tried, god knows how many times you had, you tried changing positions, switching up his thrusting method, or even asking him to go down on you, but the outcome was always the same... you were left unsatisfied, every. single time.

You had even gone as far as starting to wonder if perhaps the problem was you, but then again every time you were alone everything worked just fine.

And as perfect as he was, there's only as much a girl can take.

You needed sex, the real kind, you needed to get fucked good, by a man who didn't need instructions, by someone who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted, by a man, you needed a real man.

And perhaps you'd always had one in mind.

You were in the kitchen, the fridge open, the cool air hardening your nipples, just a tiny white tank top on you, no bra, only a pair of panties.

You came down here to get a drink, but your focus had shifted to your fingers beneath your panties, drawing fast circles on your clit.

And yes it was pathetic, masturbating in a kitchen that wasn't even yours, but your body was desperate for that orgasm your boyfriend had deprived you of not even 10 minutes ago.

You were caging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to make a sound, but as all your emphasis went there, you must have stopped listening for anyone coming and missed the footsteps stomping down the stairs.

"I thought you'd be aslee-"

his eyes widened as he finally took you in

"shit I'm sorry darlin'-" he apologized, his eyes diverting a moment too late, only after they had taken you in completely, only after they had taken a good glimpse of your tits, and of the hand in your underwear.

To say you were red was an understatement.

He was there, the man you were just thinking of (although you had tried to refrain) was there, right in front of you, in all his broadness and glory, looking every bit of hot as ever,

him, your boyfriend's dad,

Mr. Miller had just caught you masturbating while standing in his kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't-I was just-I needed water and I-"

You finally rushed your trembling fingers out of your panties, your chest heaving and your voice breaking.

"No need to apologize sweetheart" he shook his head, his gaze finding yours "'s alright"

And although you were half naked, his eyes remained on yours.

Because that's how he was, that's how Mr. Miller was,

He was a gentleman,

In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.

Just like that time he caught you just out of the shower, just as every time he wouldn't let you open your own door, not on his watch, just as every dinner, every expense, every single thing, was his treat, and he didn't need a thank you, he did it because that's simply how he did things, how he'd been taught to treat women.

You watched each other for a moment, you panicking, him as calm as ever, and only after a good minute, did you finally feel brave enough to say something,

"I-I think I'll go-"

He frowned, "didn't you come here to get a drink?"

You swallowed, realizing your hands were empty "I-I did, you're right"

You opened the fridge again, and to the demise of your heart, he stepped closer, watching you like a hawk from above, and stealing all the air out of your lungs.

"What were you doing sweetheart?"

You swore you could have started crying right there and then.

Did he really just ask that?

Why the fuck would he ever ask that?

"I-I wasn't- I wasn't doing anything, Mr. Miller"

He tried to hide the smirk crawling on his lips, but a shadow of it still appeared

"now we both know that ain't true, darlin'" he smiled, as you took a bottle of water and closed the fridge to try and keep your brain occupied by something else other than this fucking man.

You took a deep breath, looking up at him.

Your bottom lip was between your front teeth, and with his thumb, he freed it, his hand lingering on your chin.

"there's no need to be shy" he murmured, his voice as sweet as honey "I just wanna help"

And as always, as always his touch melted you completely, like ice in the August sun.

"M-Mr. Miller-"

"yes, doll?"

only hearing him call you that made your breathing hitch.

"I..."

"just tell me," his voice was as low and hot as it could be "I won't judge"

And then, for some reason, you did, You told him the truth.

maybe he had put a spell on you, or maybe, just maybe, you would have done anything this man asked for.

"I was- I was touching myself"

But of course he knew, you could see it all over his face as he nodded, his eyes now a shade darker.

"and why's that?" he asked, stepping an inch closer,

you took a step back to get out of his penetrating aura, just to realize he had confined you between the table and his body with nowhere else to go.

"my son's just upstairs" he continued, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of your face "Couldn't he have helped with that?"

You gulped as his fingers gently moved some hair out of your face, making you shiver altogether

"I know if I were him, I would want nothing more than to do just that" he murmured "I would want to pleasure you in any way I could" and then, as if he'd gotten back to himself, to the respectful gentleman you'd always known, he dropped his hand, "so why were you touching yourself, sweetheart?"

What were you supposed to say?

That his son couldn't do it?

That in 3 months of dating, he'd made you come a total of 0 times?

Now that's not really a conversation you wanted to have with his father, was it?

"I was just- I- I don't know Mr. Miller" you lied

But he saw right through you, his head shaking in disapproval

"but you do know, doll" he urged "There's gotta be a reason"

And then it clicked.

He knew. Somehow he fucking knew.

"I-I-" you stuttered "It's just that Jason... he- he can't-"

but you couldn't end that sentence, how could you ever?

So of course, he did it for you.

"He can't make you come"

And the darkness was back again, the gentleman long gone.

"ain't that right?"

You could only offer a shy nod

"a pretty thing like you..." he murmured, his breath tickling your skin as he leaned closer, "and he's not taking care of you..." he tsked "Now that's a shame"

his hands were on your waist, holding you in place.

"I thought I'd taught him how to treat a woman... guess I was wrong" he shook his head "I mean look at you," he murmured "he should be making you come until you can't take it anymore"

"Mr. Miller-" you whimpered

"yes sugar"

"please" you begged, not exactly knowing for what

"Please what?" he asked, his right hand stroking your sides "you want somethin' from me?"

"I-I" you stumbled over your own words, not knowing how to get them out "Could you- could you please do it?"

He smirked properly at that, his left hand lowering down your belly

"do what?"

"you know" you breathed "You know what"

He inhaled your scent, his eyes still focused on yours "Say it" he ordered "Say it and I'll do it"

And what could you have done, if not exactly what he'd just said

"Please Mr. Miller" you pleaded "please make me come"

His fingers were beneath your panties before you could get another word out.

"Ah-" you gasped

"shhh" he shushed you, "Don't worry darlin'" he murmured "I'm here, I'll take care of you" he said, his big hand cupping your whole pussy

"look at that" he grinned, his mouth ghosting yours "she's already wet f'me”

A gasp fled your throat again as his finger seeped between your folds, gathering your slick and teasing your hole just to travel up to your clit

“Mmm” he hummed “so wet doll” he shook his head, smiling devilishly “are you always like this for me?” he asked, “For your boyfriend’s father?“

And although the fact that you could feel his hard cock against your thighs made that taunt more than a little hypocritical, you still couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed.

“Answer me” he urged, his lips now grazing yours

“Yes” you confessed, your voice nothing more than a whisper “I-I am Mr. Miller”

He groaned at that

He knew it was wrong, that everything about this was wrong, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, if he said hearing you call him Mr. Miller with that sweet voice of yours every day didn't make his cock half hard, if he said that from the moment he met you, he hadn't been jealous of his own son.

"here's how this is gonna work sweetheart" he breathed, his fingers gripping the edge of your panties "I'm gonna taste you now... because fuck me, but I need to-" he explained, slowly lowering your underwear "And you..." he smiled, your panties suddenly on the ground "you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet"

His lips lowered from right next to your ear, onto your pulse point

"Can you do that f'me?"

A little squeak left your mouth, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest

"Can you be a good girl f'me, doll?"

You didn't trust yourself with words, so all you did was nod

"good" he hummed, his lips on your clavicle "Now get on the table"

And so you did, you hopped on the table, and he kneeled before you, his hands on your thighs.

"Spread your legs sugar" he said, having you obliging immediately

A soft appreciative sound erupted from his throat.

"prettiest pussy I've ever seen" he purred, leaning closer to it "on the prettiest girl I've ever seen"

Your belly was moving up and down in sync with your erratic breathing, but he didn't seem to care, his only focus was between your legs.

he looked as if he did this every day, as if fucking his son's girlfriend was an everyday thing.

He started off slow, his lips meeting the inside of your thighs, then your mound, then your lips, and then, just when you felt a moment away from bursting, his tongue came to play, as he licked between your folds without care, groaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"Delicious" he hummed "You're fucking delicious doll" he looked at you, continuing to do so even when his hands gripped your thighs, and his talented muscle teased your hole, making you gasp and forcing your right hand to his hair.

"Does he do this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking "Does he eat this pretty pussy sweetheart?"

"n-no" you managed to whisper as he continued his work, now savoring you entirely while deliberately avoiding your clit.

"Now that's just wrong," he said, his eyes unfocusing from yours and lowering to your heat for a moment "look at that" he murmured, watching mesmerized as your juices drenched his mouth "I could eat this pussy for every meal"

And that was it, he was done with teasing all of a sudden, his lips were on your clit, sucking it deliciously as fingers you didn't even notice having gone from your leg thrust into you with ease.

"O-Oh s-shit" you moaned, although trying not to do so.

"quiet sweetheart" he shushed you, going back to his work in a moment

His fingers were now curling upwards, finding that spot that made you see stars like he knew your body better than yourself, or certainly, better than his son.

His tongue was alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, and he expected you to not make a sound? now that was just impossible.

"oh my god" you gripped his hair, his fingers speeding up "o-oh my god-Mr. Miller- i-it feels so good"

"I know it does" he answered "I can feel it, sweetheart"

And then he was back at work, and as you watched enchanted how perfect he looked between your thighs, his hair a mess, his eyes so dark they didn't even seem brown anymore... you felt it, you felt the orgasm approach faster than it ever had, embarrassingly fast one could say, but then again, it certainly wasn't your fault, Mr. Miller knew what he was doing.

"I-I think-" you cried

"I know" he didn't need you to finish "Let go f'me, doll"

And so you did, you bit your lip and threw your head back as an orgasm powerful enough to kill you took over your body, leaving you a whimpering, wobbly mess.

"fucking delicious" he groaned, selfishly licking your core once again before he was back up to you, watching as you breathed heavily into the air.

"felt good?"

"yeah," you smiled mindlessly "felt amazing Mr. Miller"

"good enough to want another one?"

You didn't need to think twice

"yes" you breathed, one of your arms going between his neck as you begged him, while the other found the bulge in his boxers "please" you swallowed "Please fuck me"

"you want my cock?" he asked, already freeing it from his briefs "is that it?"

"yes," you whimpered,

"how much?"

"a lot" you promised "I want it so much Mr. Miller, please"

"yeah?" he taunted, positioning it at your entrance

"yeah-" you managed before he had pushed into you, making such a feeling erupt in you that you forgot all about your boyfriend upstairs and cried loudly because fuck it, but he was so fucking big.

His hand covered your mouth before you had even realized what had happened.

"I thought you said you were gonna be good"

Your eyes widened as your pussy still tried to accommodate the importance of him

A muffled "I'm sorry" made it to his ears

"I wouldn't wanna have to stop"

"no" you begged immediately "no please don't stop" You shook your head, so desperate you would have felt pathetic if it wasn't that you weren't thinking about anything anymore besides your pleasure, besides him, besides this, whatever it was.

"if I take this off you you'll be quiet?" he asked, nodding to his hand

"yes," you nodded "yes, sir, please"

Sir?

Fuck

If his cock could have gotten harder it would have.

"alright then" he conceded, taking his hand away "Can I move sweetheart?"

"mh-mh" you hummed, nodding eagerly

a soft grin spread over his face at that, but before you could fully take in the beauty of it, of him, of his patchy salt and pepper beard and pink lips, he had done as you asked, and started moving

"fuck" you whimpered "y-you're so big"

The implication behind your words hit you only after having pronounced them, but he was kind enough not to comment on it.

"and yet you're taking me all like a good girl" he groaned "taking all of my cock inside this tight little pussy of yours"

His right hand got rid of your tank top, pulling it down until your boobs spilled from it so he could grab and grope at them freely while his thrusts got faster, and somehow, somehow even fucking deeper, and you were just- god you were in another universe, and right when you shut your eyes, your forehead falling to his in bliss, another moan escaped you, and his hand found your lips again

"What did I tell you sweetheart?" he grunted, his pace not slowing down "I need you to stay quiet" he explained again "I need you to be good and not make a sound so I can fuck you like you nee-"

"Babe?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

It was his voice, your boyfriend's voice, coming from upstairs

"babe, is everything alright?"

Your eyes widened and his movements stopped as you stared into each other's eyes for a moment

What do I do? What do I do? what the fuck do I do?

"answer him," Joel said, freeing your mouth without any further explanation.

"I-" you mumbled

"do it sweetheart, or he's gonna come down here, and I don't think either of us want that"

And so of course, you did

"I-I'm fine!" you yelled

"are you sure?"

And just when you were about to answer, his fingers materialized on your clit, circling it.

You gasped, widening your eyes at him

"answer" he commanded, not stopping, the opposite actually, starting his thrusts again "Answer him doll"

"b-but"

"just do it" he murmured "Tell him you're sure"

You gulped, breathing heavily,

"I'm sure!"

"Ok"

And just like that, as if it were a miracle, Jason stopped his questioning, and you hid your face into the crook of Joel's neck, biting his skin as his pace fastened again, making that fucking feeling his son couldn't create take over your whole belly again.

"Mr Miller- oh my god" you cried, actual tears threatening to spill your eyes at the feeling

"shh" he cooed "I know sweetheart I know" he felt your walls tighten around him as the fingers in your hair gripped his locks harder "there we go," he grunted, his cock so deep inside of you you could feel it in your belly "that's all you needed wasn't it?" he asked " for someone to abuse this little pussy" he groaned, "for me, for me to fuck you like you deserve"

his lips were just before yours, not even an inch distancing you from a kiss, and yet, you weren't gonna cross that line, not today.

"yes" you moaned lowly "yes sir, yes"

"fuck" he groaned "you feel so good sweetheart, squeezing me so good... such a good girl"

"oh" you moaned, back into his neck "s-shit"

"'s ok" he purred, his fingers and hips working relentlessly to destroy you completely "'s ok sweetheart just-"

"Babe, can you bring me some water too?"

And if before Joel had stopped, it wasn't even remotely in his plans now. There you were, on the verge of an orgasm, and he was supposed to stop? no fucking way

He did the opposite, he started going harder, the table shifting on the floor.

You gasped and moaned before you finally freed your mouth from your neck, clinging to him as you answered

"Yes!" you screamed, hoping the pure pleasure behind your words wouldn't be hearable "Yes! I-I'm c-coming!"

"Yeah" he groaned into your ear "Yeah you are sweetheart" he purred, completely drowning out whatever response Jason gave you "Now give it to me, come all over my cock like a good girl"

And just like that, white pure bliss washed over you, and for a moment you were somewhere else, heaven, or hell more probably, but another universe for sure.

And you only came back when Joel's grunts sounded in your ears, when his thrusts got more sloppy, when you answered the words "Where do you want it?" with a simple "inside", and then finally, you fully came back to earth when he did, when he filled you up to the brim, remaining still deep inside you so none of it went to waste.

"fuck" he groaned after a while, finally pulling out of you to meet your eyes.

"Mr. Miller-"

You were waiting for the guilt to take over you, but somehow, for whatever reason, it still hadn't, and he felt exactly the same

"Babe?"

"shit" you gasped, getting off the table to put your panties back on.

"you need to go doll" Joel murmured, helping you put your tank top back into place

"Mr. Miller..." you murmured, your voice as shaky as your legs "I've got your come running down my thighs"

A soft smirk pulled at his lips

"should have thought of that before you said you wanted it inside" he taunted, his hands on your waist "or before you decided to touch yourself in my kitchen, sweetheart"

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pucksandpower · 7 months

Text

Inked

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: Charles goes feral whenever he sees you wearing merch with his number so you decide to go one step further

Warnings: 18+ content heavily implied

“Did you see my overtake at turn 10?” Charles asks as he steps into his driver’s room, drenched in champagne and sweat from celebrating his win.

You smile, the kind of genuine, radiant smile that you reserve only for him. “You were incredible. Congratulations, my love.”

“I always race harder knowing you’re watching.” He confesses, peeling off his gloves and moving closer. His gaze fixates on you like you’re the trophy he has yet to claim.

“That’s quite a lot of pressure for me then, isn’t it?” You tease, tilting your head slightly.

He reaches for you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “It’s the best kind of pressure.” He whispers, lips hovering above yours.

“Speaking of …” you trail off, pulling away just slightly to dance your fingers over the fabric of your dress. “I have something for you. A surprise.”

Charles raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards. “You know how much I love surprises.”

You take a deep breath. “Remember that spot on my thigh you’re so fond of?”

“How could I ever forget?” His voice drops an octave, his eyes darkening with memories of intimate moments shared. “It leads to my favorite place on earth.”

Taking another steadying breath, you slowly hike up your dress, revealing the fresh tattoo of the number “16” inked delicately on that very place. Charles’ eyes widen, a look of astonishment overtaking his features.

“You didn’t …” he breathes, reaching out to trace the tattoo with his fingertips.

“I did. For you.”

A choked laugh escapes him as you watch the bottom of his race suit suddenly become too tight. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you murmur, leaning into his touch. “I just wanted to show you how much you mean to me.”

Charles cups your face, his eyes searching yours for a long moment. “I love you so much. Do you know that?”

“I do. And I love you too.”

For a while, the two of you simply stand there, wrapped up in each other. The world outside seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the connection you share.

After what feels like an eternity, Charles finally breaks the silence. “Let’s get out of here,” his voice is husky with desire. “I would take you to bed right now but I promised Fred not to break the couch again after last time.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

***

Charles scoops you into his arms effortlessly as soon as you enter your suite, making you squeal in delight. “You have this unique ability,” Charles starts, laying you down gently on the plush bed, “to make everything more special.” He begins to place soft kisses along your collarbone, working his way up to your ear, whispering each word with deliberate intent.

“And you have this uncanny ability to always surprise me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his damp hair. “Just when I think I have you all figured out.”

“Isn’t that what keeps things interesting?” He pulls back to gaze deep into your eyes. “Your tattoo. It means the world to me. And I think, perhaps, I should thank you sixteen times for it.”

You bite your lip, heartbeat quickening. “Sixteen times?”

He nods, a smirk dancing on his lips. “For the number you’ve etched onto your skin for me.”

“You always are one to go above and beyond,” you note, trailing a finger down his chest and feeling his own heart race beneath your touch.

Charles chuckles, capturing your hand and placing a gentle kiss on your fingertips. “Only for you,” he admits. “Because you deserve nothing but the best.”

You smile, “And what makes you think I’m counting?”

His grin sends shivers down your spine. “Oh, believe me, you will be.”

***

The curtains barely keep the sun at bay when you wake up the next morning. You try to move but your legs refuse, reminding you of how thoroughly Charles thanked you … all … night … long. A soft, contented sigh escapes your lips as the memories flood back.

Behind you, Charles stirs, his arm pulling you closer. “Morning,” he mumbles, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder.

“Morning,” you echo, attempting to shift and sit up. But your legs wobble as they struggle to move after the intense night you had.

“Seems like I did a good job,” he teases, helping you sit up. The smug satisfaction in his voice is undeniable.

You shoot him a playful glare. “You’re far too pleased with yourself.”

He grins, “Can you blame me?” His fingers dance lightly over your skin, tracing patterns that threaten to make you pull him back under the covers. “You’re irresistible and knowing I’m the reason for that ... well it makes me want to go again for round seventeen.”

Your response is cut off by a sharp twinge in your lower half. Charles notices immediately, concern replacing his teasing. “You okay?”

“Just a bit sore,” you say with a sheepish smile.

He raises an eyebrow, that familiar playful glint returning. “Only a bit? I’ll have to fix that.”

Rolling your eyes, you give a mock huff. “Alright, maybe more than a bit.”

Charles stands up and stretches, immediately drawing your eyes to his delicious chest and abs. The smirk that stretches across his face tells you that he knows exactly what he does to you.

He reaches across the bed and scoops you up, carrying you effortlessly towards the bathroom. “Then let’s get you relaxed.”

The bathtub is already filled, steam rising in gentle tendrils. Charles must have gotten up early to prepare it and the thought sends warmth throughout your body.

He eases both of you into the warm water, settling you between his legs, his chest pressed against your back. The sensation of the water coupled with his touch immediately begins to soothe your aching muscles.

Charles reaches for a bottle of bath oil, pouring it into the water. The rich scent of lavender fills the air, adding to the calming atmosphere. He begins to massage your shoulders, working his way down your back, releasing any residual tension.

As his hands wander, the heat and his touch begin to reignite the flame from the previous night. The line between relaxation and arousal becomes increasingly blurred.

Charles senses the change, his breath hot against your ear. “Feeling better?”

You nod, leaning back against him, surrendering to the sensations he’s stirring. “Much better,” you whisper, turning your head to capture his lips in a languid kiss.

The bath sloshes around you as the two of you explore each other anew, proving that the passion between you knows no bounds. Time becomes irrelevant as you lose yourselves in each other once again, the world outside ceasing to exist.

There’s no water left in the bathtub by the time you’re done. You make sure to leave an extra heavy tip as an apology to the poor housekeeper who will have to clean the wet bathroom floor.

***

As you and Charles walk — or in your case, try to walk — towards the private jet, the afternoon sun glints off the sleek metal of the aircraft. Pierre Gasly, along with some members of the Ferrari team, are already waiting on the tarmac.

You try to maintain your dignity, but with each step, there’s a subtle wince on your face and your pace is undeniably slower than usual. Pierre raises an eyebrow when he notices your gait while the rest of the team exchange amused glances.

“Late-night celebrations?” Pierre quips, a knowing smirk on his face.

Charles slides an arm around your waist. “Just making the most of our time.”

You shoot Charles a playful glare with burning cheeks. “Stop being so smug,” you mutter under your breath.

He leans down, lips brushing against your ear. “Can’t help that I’m proud of my achievements. Both on and off the track.”

Charles’ protective and doting nature is at full force as he assists you with every step up to the jet, ensuring you’re comfortably seated next to him.

The hum of engines fills the cabin and you settle into your plush seat, snuggling under the soft blanket that Charles laid over both of you. He sits beside you, his fingers brushing against yours, eyes dark with that all-too-familiar desire.

The close quarters and presence of the team should have served as a deterrent, but with Charles, the line between boldness and recklessness was always blurred.

His hand, concealed by the blanket, slides up your thigh. You shoot him a warning look but his mischievous grin shows he’s not deterred. His fingers tease and explore, pushing boundaries while you bite your lip, trying to maintain your composure.

Every movement of his fingers sends a jolt of electricity through you, the thrill of potential discovery only making every sense feel heightened.

A sudden burst of turbulence rocks the plane and you grip the armrests, focus momentarily pulled away from Charles’ teasing. He takes the opportunity to press closer, his whispers in your ear almost drowned out by the engines.

“We’ll continue this later,” he promises, pulling his hand away and discretely licking his fingers before settling back in his seat, looking far more innocent than he has any right to.

***

“Close your eyes,” Charles commands gently as you both walk into your shared bedroom a few weeks later.

A smile touches your lips. “Again with the surprises?”

“Just trust me.”

You oblige without hesitation.

All you hear is the soft rustle of fabric and then his voice, “Okay, open them.”

Your eyes flutter open to find Charles shirtless. You take a moment to admire the beautiful man you get to call your own before your eyes make their way to his chest … where he is proudly showing off a fresh tattoo, the skin still raw, right above his heart. It takes a moment for you to recognize the series of numbers — the exact date that the two of you first met.

“You didn’t,” you breathe, stepping closer and allowing your fingertips to hover over the ink.

Charles captures your hand, pressing it against the tattoo. “Every beat of my heart is for you. I wanted a permanent reminder.”

Your eyes start to glisten with tears. “This is ... I don’t even have words.”

He grins, pulling you close. “We seem to be leaving each other speechless a lot lately.”

You laugh, “I think it’s your turn to be speechless.”

“Oh?” He challenges, raising an eyebrow.

Without warning, you push him gently onto the bed, straddling him. “I know a thing or two about surprises,” you whisper against his lips.

His hands find your hips. “Show me.”

You don’t hold back.

“Remember,” he murmurs between heated kisses, “this is forever.”

You nod, brushing your lips against his once more before making your way down his body. “Forever.”

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