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just-jordie-things · 3 months

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you want to kiss me so bad! - fushiguro megumi

word count: 3k warnings: none :) summary: "ooh you just want to kiss me" "and what about it?" more info: aged up characters! everyone works as sorcerers for jujutsu tech, friends to lovers, yuji nobara and reader are besties with a gossip groupchat a/n: thank u stef for this idea, it was so much fun to write !!! (obvi i got carried away... classic me) but this one is ofc dedicated to u @delzinrowe here's the original brainrot ___

Normally, (y/n) and Megumi made a strong pair on assignments. Having worked and trained together since high school and having known each other a bit longer than that, they shared a deep understanding on how the other fights, and normally this gave them a hefty advantage. Having two capable sorcerers that could read each other like the backs of their hands was a threat to any curse. Normally.

Or in other words, as long as one of them didn’t completely abandon their plan and start improvising halfway through a fight, they were the perfect pair.

If he gave her some benefit of the doubt, Megumi could admit that (y/n) disregarding her weapon and opting to use the sheer power behind her cursed technique actually meant exorcizing the curse quicker than planned.

However, now she’s staggering on her feet, her blade retrieved and dangling loosely in her weak grip as she slowly makes her way over to him, grimacing at the heap of dead curse she had to sidle past. There’s a lazy but proud grin that takes over her features as she assesses the damage, realizing her workload for filing this one would be far less than previously expected, seeing how quickly she’d handled it.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Megumi scolds her as soon as she’s in close enough proximity to hear him.

He’s pissed. His arms are crossed, his face is twisted into a scowl, and when he pauses after his question (y/n) thinks he might actually be looking for an answer.

“Pretty quickly, I’d say” She scoffs back at him, not taking his irritation seriously for a second.

She’d say Megumi was a friend of hers, given how long they’d known each other, but she couldn’t say he ever eased up around her. He seemed to always be wound so tight that he didn’t even relax when they weren’t exorcizing curses. Over time she’d grown used to his reserved demeanor, and she didn’t mind it, so long as they were still the perfect duo on assignments, she could put up with anything.

Except his attitude. It rarely made an appearance when she was around- not nearly as much when he was paired up with Yuji- but on the off chance that Megumi got cranky, as she called it, it never rubbed her the right way, and it never went over well.

And currently, Megumi’s attitude and irritation knew no bounds.

“That was reckless and risky and you know it,” He chastised, only bristling further when (y/n) rolled her eyes back at him. “You need to take this more seriously, you can’t just go dropping your weapon in the middle of-”

“It was fine, wasn’t it?” She huffed out, already bored of the conversation. “It’s done, we’re not scuffed up all that bad, and honestly, you should be thanking me”

“Thanking you?” Megumi seethes the words back at her, and the way the corner of his snarl twitches does not go unnoticed by her.

“Mhm, you’re welcome,” She muses back at him, knowing that her little smirk was going to absolutely set him over the edge. “I’ve pretty much scored us a half day-”

“You pretty much just ignored me completely and could’ve gotten us both hurt…” He trails off, his features softening from their contorted angry expression for just a moment as something else washes over him. Something that makes his face pale and his lips curl into such a deep set frown (y/n) thinks it could form permanent wrinkles if he held it any longer. “... or worse” He finishes, a bit quieter than before.

“But we didn’t,” (y/n) shrugs back at him, and his annoyance creeps right back into it’s home under his skin.

Why couldn’t she take anything seriously, ever?

“We’re fine, it’s done, and we’re heading home. Why are you holding onto this?”

He gapes back at her, pausing long enough to give her a chance to take back her idiotic statement and actually take some responsibility for her actions, but she doesn’t. All she does is look back at him with something akin to disinterest in her eyes. It makes his nostrils flare.

“You’re ridiculous,” He huffs, eyes screwing shut with his annoyance. “Seriously, (y/n), one day your lack of critical thinking skills is going to put me in an early grave”

“Early? But you’re such an old man already,” She teases back, knowing full well she was poking a sleeping bear. “C’mon, I’ll treat you to lunch on the way back, better?”

“You can’t be serious for even a second can you?”

“Why would I?”

“Oh, I don’t know, self preservation?” He snaps back at her, stepping closer so she could get a proper look at the glare in his eyes.

“My job is self preservation,” (y/n) rolls her eyes again with the dismissive comment. “Maybe if you loosened up once in a while you wouldn’t be so cranky all the time”

“So I’m cranky for wanting us to make it out of an assignment with our heads?”

“Looks to me like we still get ‘em” She shrugs.

“That’s it. I’m not taking another assignment with you until you understand why acting on reckless abandon is stupid and going to get you killed one day,” He spits back at her, and for a second, her brows raise, and she actually looks shocked by his words. “Does that make me the bad guy, (y/n)?” Megumi hoped he was finally getting through to her, he was so close to her now that when his eyes bore into hers she could hardly see anything but angry blue oceans crashing behind them.

With another roll of her eyes and a short giggle right in her face she scrunches up her nose and gives him the greatest, wittiest line she could come up with to diffuse the rising tension.

“Ooh, ‘gumi you just want to kiss me”

What she doesn’t expect is that with all of his anger and frustration brewing, Megumi had been pushed past a brink she’d never seen him reach before.

“And what about it?” He snaps, brows furrowed with his anger, mouth still pulled into a frown. (y/n’s) eyes widen at the response

So in a moment of pure vexation and poor decision making skills, Megumi’s shifting gears and muttering, “Fuck it”

Next thing she knows his hands have seized her cheeks and they’re soft and warm but so firm as he yanks her forward while dipping his head to her height. Is he going to kiss me? Is the first stupid thought that runs through her muddled mind before his lips are slamming against hers.

Her eyes are as wide as saucers before she truly registers how soft and warm and pleasant his lips feel against hers, and she finds herself giving into the whirlwind moment sooner than expected. Her lashes flutter before falling shut, and it seems that she’s just as soon floating ten feet in the air, lifted by an invisible force. One foot pops into the air, the other extending on to the tips of her toes to better reach him, sending her hands against his chest.

He rendered her breathless in the matter of instant, which she blamed on both the surprise and the passion behind his kiss. She can vaguely make out the feeling of his hands moving from her jaw into her hair, but just as his fingertips graze the nape of her neck and she hums in delight.

That little noise was her downfall, because as soon as the sweet sound hits Megumi’s ears, he’s pulled out of his reverie and instantly pulls away from the kiss.

(y/n) has to gasp for air once they’re parted, but it takes her a minute to gather her senses and open her eyes.

Megumi’s frozen, his hands still cupped around the back of her head, his lips parted but no words or air was coming out. All he can do is stare at her with the shock of what he’d done sinking in.

No words are exchanged.

She stares at him expectantly, waiting for something, anything, but it doesn’t come. Megumi releases her before putting as large of a step of distance between. If he won’t say anything, she knows she has to… but all she can do is gape as he takes another step away and quickly pulls out his phone to check on their ride back to Jujutsu Tech.

It stays silent as they wait for their car.

Even their exchange with their assigned manager is uncomfortable.

With Megumi still choosing the silent route, she’s left no other choice.

She pulls her phone out of her pocket and rapidly begins to type.

[y/n]: S.O.S EMERGENCY !!!!!!

[yuwuji]: OMG DID U DIE ON UR MISSION D:

[y/n]: NO WORSE [y/n]: MEGUMI KISSED ME

[nocapybara]: W H A T

[yuwuji]: oh shit :D

[nocapybara]: what happened [nocapybara]: did you kiss back

[yuwuji]: was it good???

The incoming texts from her go-to groupchat for panic spamming shot up so fast she’s barely finished reading one before another appears on her screen. At least it was serving the purpose of keeping her distracted in the tense car ride.

[y/n]: he got mad at me

[yuwuji]: aww again??? :(

[y/n]: and then i said ‘you wanna kiss me so bad’ and he was all ‘so what?’ abt it and then he just…. fuckin kissed me

[nocapybara]: oh shit he actually made a move????

[yuwuji]: damn that’s actually such a good line

[nocapybara]: no it’s not, megumi’s just dumb [nocapybara]: and u didn’t answer my question (y/n/n)!!

[yuwuji]: or mine! >:3

[y/n]: i might’ve kissed back a little… [y/n]: and it might’ve been…. the best kiss of my whole life

[nocapybara]: how much is a little??

[yuwuji]: aww megumi is a good kisser <3 good 4 him

[y/n]: uhh my foot might’ve popped up like in the movies

[nocapybara]: oh shiiiiiit so it was a KISS kiss

[y/n]: yeah. it was a kiss kiss.

[yuwuji]: and u kissed back?? are u guys boyfriend girlfriend now??

[y/n]: he didn’t say anything after

[nocapybara]: WUT???

[yuwuji]: HEH???

[y/n]: I KNOW THATS WHY IM FREAKING OUT U GUYS ITS SO AWKWARD WTF DO I DO HE DIDNT SAY ANYTHING AND NOW IM STUCK IN THIS CAR WITH HIM HELP MEEEE

[nocapybara]: HES A COWARD !!!

[yuwuji]: did you say anything??

[y/n]: no!! what am i supposed to say??? he kissed me his first!! this is HIS FAULT!!!

[nocapybara]: damn right!!

[yuwuji]: no!! :( [yuwuji]: maybe he’s just shy and doesn’t know what to say

[nocapybara]: sthu he’s an adult, he can voice is widdle feelings >:/

[y/n]: i don’t think he has feelings for me. I think it was a mistake. [y/n]: idk what’s worse tbh

[yuwuji]: … r u sure ?

[noapybara]: what do you know.

[yuwuji]: no nothing i just meant he’s shy and awkward

[y/n]: VERY AWKWARD YEAH I GOT THAT

[nocapybara]: yuji ur his best friend. u definitely know something. spill. does he have the hots for (y/n/n) or not

[yuwuji]: hey i don’t spill secrets!!!!

[nocapybara]: SO THERE ARE SECRETS TO SPILL THEN????

With every new message, (y/n) felt her heart pounding in her chest a little harder. She hoped the radio was loud enough to drown out the sound of it. They were still a couple of minutes away from Jujutsu Tech, and she needed a solution by the time they got there. She had a feeling that if she didn’t come up with a plan and fast, then Megumi would continue to ignore her, and it would never be brought up again.

[yuwuji]: well… i guess it’s not a secret that he talks about her a lot…

It was easy to mistake Megumi’s silence for disinterest- and at first, he would say that he was ignoring the entire thing. He didn’t have an ounce of desire to bring it up in front of present company, but after a few minutes of riding in silence, he thought maybe ignoring it forever was his best option. It was just an accident, people caught up in the moment all the time, right? What was one little… perfect… kiss anyways?

Suddenly watching all the trees passing by the window made his stomach twist with nausea, and Megumi had to redirect his gaze to the back of the headrest in front of him.

It wasn’t right of him to kiss her, if he really thought about it. He’d never even confessed to her- and to just kiss her like that? Megumi could barely recognize himself. He was never so brazen, he was always the reserved, calculated one. He was the one that thought things through before making a final decision, he was never brash, never bold, and he would never make a move on someone without telling them properly how he felt…

His stomach lurched again. Was he getting carsick?

He’d never really considered telling (y/n) about his feelings for her before. Sure, he’d known for a while that she wasn’t like the others, she was different, special, held in a different, more secluded place in his heart away from all the others. If he was being honest with himself, he’d probably felt that way since high school. The problem was Megumi was always realistic when evaluating his options, so when his feelings for her were fully realized, he’d weighed his options and decided that the potential of losing a friend and a phenomenal partner over a confession would be pathetic.

So he packed his feelings up in a box and left it in the back of his mind. And that box would just have to stay there.

The ping of his phone drew him out of his spiraling, stomachache-inducing thoughts.

[itadori]: yo u kissed (y/n)?? hell yeah!!!

It felt like his heart imploded, and all of the air in his lungs was sucked out before he could try to gasp to preserve it. His eyes nearly bore a hole through the screen of his phone before his head shot up, peeking at the front seat where (y/n) sat, typing away on her phone. He couldn’t see who she was texting, but he didn’t need to, because the recipient of her texts just told on himself.

Now he was sure he was going to be sick. He made a mental note to pack anti-nausea for the car rides after assignments.

When they finally got back to Jujutsu Tech, (y/n) was swift in her exit of the car and stride towards the building. She not only didn’t utter a word to him, but she didn’t cast him a second glance. Her eyes were glued to her phone and her walking pace was, well, she was nearly jogging away.

He could just let her walk away, accept that the both of them would mutually forget about the whole thing.

“(y/n)!” Megumi had to call after her as he broke into a light jog in order to catch up. She glanced over her shoulder, and her speed walking slowed to a normal pace as he caught up to her.

She’s quick to lock her phone and tuck it back into her pocket.

Megumi lets out a sigh as he gives in to instinct.

“Look, I didn’t mean to do that, and I’m sorry, alright?”

She stops in her tracks then, effectively halting him too, but it doesn’t seem like it’s because she’s suddenly inclined to focus all of her attention on conversing with him.

“Are you trying to say you kissed me by accident?” She frowns.

“Well, I guess-”

“Because that’s not a thing,” She interrupts him. “You kissed me, consciously, and, like, for a good minute-”

“But I didn’t mean to, you practically dared me!” Megumi argued, only making her scoff and let out a laugh, humored by his ridiculous argument.

“Who cares? You kissed me!” She reminds him with a tilt of her head. “Are you saying if I challenged you to jump off a bridge would you do that too?”

“Well maybe the bridge isn’t that tall” Megumi refuted, before frowning and rolling his eyes at how stupid he sounded. There was no taking that one back, (y/n) was already laughing.

“Just admit it, Megumi. Some part of you wanted to kiss me, so you did”

“Not until you admit that you asked me to, technically”

“Fine! I did ask you to! Happy?”

“Delighted, because I wanted to!”

“Well if you’ve wanted to so bad then why are you yelling at me and not kissing me!?”

“I don’t know!”

With a simultaneous groan of frustration, the pair don’t waste anymore time arguing before acting. She all but throws herself against him but Megumi’s just as swift at wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her off her feet and at a height that gives him easy reach to slam his lips against hers. Every once of passion he’d poured into their last kiss is revisited in full with this one too, and (y/n) starts to get the idea that every kiss is going to sweep her off her feet all the same.

With her arms wound around his neck to better keep herself secure, she hopes that he feels every bit of electricity that she does.

And he does, he’s just a bit too preoccupied trying to balance taking in oxygen and kissing her like his life depended on it to communicate that to her now. At least in words. Wandering hands filled in the gaps for now.

It took them long enough, after all, there would be time to talk about it later. ___

a/n: i imagine the groupchat lights tf up after the second one :3

xoxo ~ jordie

#fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi imagine #megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro imagine #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine

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wndaswife · 27 days

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turn a blind eye | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Something strange is happening in Westview, and your wife is adamant about soothing your frustrations.

Word count: 2390

Tags | MDNI: smut, a bit angsty in the beginning, some fluff at the end, tiny mood switch because wv wanda is scary but also just the cutest, manipulation, implications of magic usage (this is up to your interpretation), fingering, cunnilingus, mommy kink, dom!wanda maximoff

“I spoke with Norm,” you said, nervously massaging the pads of your fingers against the handcloth that hung from the kitchen sink. Through the window ahead of you, you could see Wanda turn as she continued to clean up Tommy and Billy’s toys, a quizzical expression flickering over her face in the form of furrowed eyebrows and a skeptical look in your direction.

Casually, she replied, urging you for more details, “Oh?”

You were never one to start arguments with your wife nor cause conflict, but there was something that scratched at you from the inside, pressing you to ask her — pressing you to accuse her.

Why had she done all this?

With a bundle of nerves weighing you down within the pits of your stomach, against your chest so you were forced to take shallow breaths, and around your throat so you found it difficult to speak at all, you turned to face your wife, gripping the edges of the counter behind you. “I unearthed the man’s suppressed personality and spoke to him free of your oversight,” you forced yourself to say.

Even in uttering the words, you felt as though your breath was being pushed back into your lungs, as if your very body had been trying to unspeak the words as they were being spoken.

Wanda’s fingers froze around the toy truck and she eyed you in a way that was not exactly cold nor threatening, but calculating, as she thought over what to say next. She was careful with you, always, treating you like the delicate and sensitive thing she knew you were.

Hearing you say those words that implied accusation was a grave shock, and simultaneously, she wanted to find the proper way to respond to you.

“Honey, you don’t sound like yourself,” she spoke softly, releasing the toy truck and rounding the island counter at the center of the kitchen to stand in front of you.

As she approached, you felt as though you ought to have been frightened, but you weren’t — not of Wanda.

Not of your wife.

She placed her warm hand against your cheek, stroking her thumb against your cheekbone and meeting your eyes tenderly. “Let’s go to bed and forget all this nonsense by the morning. Come on, sweetheart,” she urged sweetly, a gentle smile on her face as if you had simply been speaking from fatigued delirium.

You looked away from her and at the kitchen floor, swallowing before hesitantly uttering, “You can’t control me like you do them.”

“Baby…” Wanda whispered, her hand sliding down your cheek slightly so she could hook her pinky under the ridge of your jaw and tip your head up so you were looking at her. You met her eyes and she leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

When she pulled away, your eyes met again, her very gaze permeating your body and sending chills up your spine. But her hand was so warm against your cheek, and she laid her hand on top of the one you had gripping the kitchen counter.

With her lips brushing against yours as she spoke, she whispered, “Can’t I?”

It wasn’t a threat, or at least it didn’t feel very much like one, but rather a reminder — Wanda didn’t have to control you at all, for there wasn’t a thing in the world you wouldn’t do for her.

“I’m scared, Wanda,” you said quietly.

Her gaze softened and a brief look of hurt flashed across her features. It took one silent moment before she interlaced her fingers with yours, and a few several more before she spoke. “Do you really think I’d hurt you? Or the boys? Do you really think I’d… hurt anyone intentionally?” she asked.

She was at the mercy of your impending response, and you detected fear beyond green irises.

“No,” you answered immediately — truthfully. “I wouldn’t believe that for a second.”

Wanda smiled. “Then there’s nothing for you to be scared of, Y/N.”

“Besides…” Her eyes flickered down to the buttons on your blouse, removing her hand from your cheek and hooking a finger around them, tugging down slightly. “Haven’t I always taken care of you?” she asked, looking back up and meeting your eyes. She stepped forward so her hips were pressed against yours.

When you parted your lips to answer only to find that all you could utter was a medley of incoherent stutters, Wanda urged you further, grinding her hips gently against yours and making you throb.

“Haven’t I?” she asked again, gazing at you through her long eyelashes.

You swallowed and all but squeaked out, “Y-You have — always.” You saw a glimpse of Wanda’s grin before she dove in for your neck, pressing long, gentle kisses there. You tipped your head to the side as her hand moved between your breasts, down your stomach, to the zipper of your pants.

“Mommy’s always taken care of you, honey,” she whispered. “Isn’t that right? Mommy knows how to take care of her girl.”

You nodded and muttered, “Mommy…”

You released your hands from around the kitchen counter and found your wife's hips through the fog of your daze. Your hands ran up her gentle curves and Wanda groaned softly into your neck in approval as your fingers brushed against her ass.

Growing impatient, Wanda pulled your blouse out from beyond the waistline of your pants. She raised her head from your neck after nipping at your skin, sure to leave a mark, then took your chin in her other hand and brought you into a passionate kiss.

You whimpered into her mouth when the tip of her tongue ran over the top row of your teeth before she dove in further, running it along the roof of your mouth and across your tongue. She pulled away and gave your lips and quick peck, then tilted your head down so you could watch how she unbuttoned and unzipped you.

“Beg mommy for her fingers,” she told you. She rubbed the pad of her thumb against the corner of your mouth. “I wanna hear my girl be sweet to me.”

Tantalizingly, Wanda’s fingers danced around the waistband of your panties, her fingernails scratching ever so slightly at the area just below your stomach.

“Please, mommy,” you begged, “I want you. I want your fingers inside me.”

“Is that so?” Wanda teased, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You want me to make you feel good, honey? You want mommy’s fingers inside you?”

You nodded quickly and made Wanda smile, seeing how eager and desperate you were for her. She felt her chest flutter at seeing how you begged her with your eyes, felt how your hands gripped tenderly at her hips.

It made her own desire climb and her breath quickened at the sight of you. Even she couldn’t keep herself from you any longer.

Her fingers slipped past your waistband and Wanda kept her eyes on your face as your breath hitched in anticipation. You shuddered at the feeling of her cold fingers meeting your warm cunt.

Wanda’s lips parted to release a warm exhale that you felt against your chin as she watched your eyes squeeze shut in pleasure while her fingers rubbed carefully through your slick folds in just the way she knew you liked, over your throbbing clit, dipping in and out of your pussy when she advanced downwards, pushing her digits deeper inside of you each time she repeated and reached your opening again.

You began to release tiny whimpers as Wanda nearly reached her second knuckle with her index and middle fingers. She nipped at your jaw and placed a kiss there before she pushed her fingers’ entire lengths into your opening.

You held back a yelp lest you wake the boys and Wanda laughed at your need for self-restraint.

“Does that feel good, sweetheart?” Wanda cooed, her voice so, so gentle and sweet. Her fingers moved in and out of you in careful rhythm, her thumb drawing lazy circles against your clit.

“Mhm…” you replied languidly.

“You feel so warm around mommy’s fingers, baby,” she purred into your ear, running the tip of her tongue up the shell of your ear teasingly. “So tight.” She pressed a kiss to the corner of your jaw.

Gripping tighter at the kitchen counter when you felt yourself getting closer, a tight coil developed deep within your lower stomach. “W-Wanda, I think I’m…”

“You can come, Y/N,” she permitted with a soft whisper, and your back arched away from the sink and against your wife, to which Wanda wrapped her arm around you as you came around her fingers and whimpered into the crook of her neck and soft orange hair.

As you panted against her shoulder, Wanda carefully removed her fingers from inside you while she rubbed your back soothingly, whispering gently into your ear about how good you did, how safe you are with mommy, how taken care of you are with her.

“Shh, it’s alright now,” she cooed. “You don’t need to worry about a thing, darling. Mommy will take care of everything. You’re safe with me.” She pressed a kiss to your temple.

Wanda was right — she’d always take care of you, and you’d always be safe with her. You didn’t have to worry about anything as long as you had her.

“I’m not done with you just yet, Y/N,” Wanda whispered when your breathing steadied. She parted from you and took your hands, steadying herself as she got down on her knees. She looked up at you and you swallowed, your heart beginning to pound as she grinned seeing your expression struck with nerves.

She let go of your hands and hooked her fingers around the hem of both your pants and your panties, pulling them down torturously-slow while she kissed your thighs as they became exposed.

Once your pants and underwear pooled around your ankles, Wanda had you step one foot out of them so she could part your thighs with her hands. The way she ran her eyes over your sticky cunt made you throb. She circled her hands around to your ass, moving your hips forward to allow her access to you.

She met your eyes briefly, nearly making your breath catch in your throat had it not been for how she dove right in between your thighs just a moment after.

With her hands against your ass pulling you against her face, Wanda’s face was obscured between your thighs and the mess of her orange curls, her tongue working diligently at running through your folds. She pressed her lips to your cunt in forms of gentle, pleasurable kisses, dipped her tongue in and out of your opening, nudged her nose against your clit as she flattened her tongue against you and licked upwards.

She devoured you, moaning at your flavor and at how your pussy felt against her lips and tongue as if getting as much pleasure from eating you out as you got from being eaten out. She was making a mess of you; you could feel the inside of your thighs begin to coat with your slick as it spread across Wanda’s chin and the sides of her mouth.

You tipped your head up and tried to steady your breathing and keep yourself from making too much noise, only to find you couldn’t bear to be without the sight of your wife on her knees for you, her head between your thighs with her beautiful curls on display.

“Wanda… Feels so good,” you whimpered, reaching down to entangle your hand within her soft hair.

She groaned in response and reached up to remove your other hand from the counter and intertwine your fingers with hers. She brought her hand back to your ass, still holding yours. She gave your hand a supportive squeeze.

Her tongue picked up speed, for a few moments focusing on teasing around your sensitive opening before she shifted her attention to your clit, running a flat tongue up your cunt and applying more pressure when she came up to your sensitive bud.

You could hear every wet movement of her tongue against your sticky cunt, feel her hot breath against you, feel the vibrations of her moans against your clit.

Shivers ran up your body and you inadvertently tightened your grip around Wanda’s hair.

Wanda loved having you crumble for her. It was even better that you had to watch your volume, for you’d been a mess of whimpers and breathy sighs.

“Ah-” You squeezed your eyes together and took your bottom lip between your teeth. “A-Ah… Wanda… I’m gonna come again…” you told her.

“Come for mommy, angel,” Wanda rasped against you.

It took everything in you not to cry out, for Wanda’s tongue was relentless, lapping against your clit as you came. She moved her hands from your ass and took hold of your hips, bucking you against her and forcing you to ride her tongue as you shuddered and climaxed into her mouth.

The sheer pleasure sent a hot tear down your cheek and you swiped it away as you caught your breath.

Suddenly, the both of you could hear soft padding down the staircase, and Wanda removed herself from between your thighs to make sure she was hearing it right.

You quickly offered her your hand to help her up and she rapidly helped you put your pants back on. With your fingers, you wiped her chin, lips, and cheeks free from your orgasm, eliciting an amused smile from her which you shared when she looked up at you after zipping and buttoning you back up. She pecked your lips.

“Moms…” A drowsy bed-headed Tommy padded into the kitchen. “Can you say goodnight to me again? I had a nightmare.”

“Of course, honey,” Wanda replied, smiling at her sleepy son. “We’ll be up there in just a moment, okay?”

He quickly ran over to give both of you a sleepy hug and Wanda scratched soothingly at the back of his head before he went back upstairs to wait for the both of you.

“Wash your hands,” Wanda then ordered, turning on the tap.

You replied as you lathered your hands in soap, “Wash your face.”

She nudged at your shoulder playfully.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #elizabeth olsen

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urfavlarry · 1 month

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i love your sbg content!!!! if you’d like, could i request some ben and tyler hcs (separate) of the reader helping them calm down when they’re pissed at something? im a sucker when angry characters are soft for only certain people. bonus points for gentle hugs and kisses

Tyler & Ben (seperate) x gn!reader

summary: reader helps them calm down after they got pissed off because someone talked shit about reader behind readers back

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, violence, mentions of bl00d

A/N: hope this makes sense i wrote this at 1am so sorry if its shitty😭

Tyler Hernández

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School fights. Typical American high school movie type of shit, but today just had to be one of those days where it happened. You were walking to the front gate of the school when a crowd started to form and a series of ‘oohs’ and cheers were heard. It wouldn’t have interested you if you hadn’t caught your boyfriends name in that crowd. You run over and push through the people and see your boyfriend fighting your friend. You and some other person pull them away from each other, both of them beat up, well the other person a bit more. You pull Tyler by the arm and you hear curses aimed at you and Tyler; “Pussy!” “Booo!” You ignore them and hold Tylers hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. You walk in silence, only Tylers huffing and heavy breathing being heard. He was looking anywhere but you, too angry to even speak.

You unlock your house and drag him to the bathroom upstairs. You sit him down on the edge of the bath tub and you crouch and open the cabinet, taking out the first aid kit. You glance over at him, his leg bouncing like it was running on electricity. “So, are you going to tell me what happened?” You ask softly as you start your clean the blood from his nose and lip, making him hiss in pain. He stays silent for a while as if he was thinking or trying to find the right words to explain the situation.

You wait patiently for him to sort it out in his head and play with his hair while sitting in his lap, softly kissing the spots that were bruised. He pulls you closer and hugs you, his face buried in your chest, mumbling swears and incoherent sentences. You rub his back and hum, knowing that mostly calms him down. He looks up at you, his gaze softening. “You ready to tell me what happened baby?” He nods and you smile, kissing his forehead. He looks away and speaks in a hushed tone; “They were.. spreading shitty things about you, so I defended you.” He says and frowns, looking guilty. “But they fucking deserved it fucking hijo de puta—” You kiss his lips to stop his rambling and his shoulders relax, kissing you back. You smile into the kiss as his hands wander down to your waist, squeezing it gently. You pull away, putting your forehead against his; “Ty, I’m glad you protected me but you don’t need to beat people up for it.” He huffs, quickly snapping back; “But—” You place your finger on his soft lips, shushing him; “No buts, you shouldn’t fight people, I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He cups your cheek and smirks up at you.

“I’d kill for you princesa.” He looks at you lovingly and pulls you into another passionate kiss.

Ben Clark

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You and the group were aware of Bens “anger issues” ever since the day you saw Logan getting bullies by Barron. You were well aware of how things like bullying triggered him so you tried to keep him away from things like that along with Aiden, who was always there to calm him down. Today Aiden wasn’t there, leaving you to deal with an angry Ben. Not that you minded but you never really calmed him down. You pull him away quickly from the fight, making him thrash around and he hits you right in the nose. You hiss in pain but drag him to the schools ‘abandoned’ bathroom. You take out some bandages and tampons, wrapping his bleeding knuckles with the bandages and clean off the blood from his lip with the tampon. He huffs, breathing heavily and his legs tremble. You finish cleaning him and gently pull him into a hug, playing with his hair. He breathes in your scent and seemingly relaxes wrapping his arms around your stomach, pulling you into his lap.

You sat there for a bit, humming the tune of his favorite song and pull away, kissing his cheek, forehead and finally his soft lips. You intended it to be a quick peck on the lips but he pulled you right back, kissing you with a bit more force. You pull away for breath and he hides his face in the crook of your neck. The bells rings but you guys stay seated on the floor of the bathroom. “Can you tell me what happened my love?” You say softly and kiss his cheek. He carefully take put his phone his head still rested against your chest, typing something on his phone.He hands you the phone after he finishes and you read it, making sure to not leave out even a single detail. “Your new friend the one you met in your volleyball class, she was saying some mean shit about you and I just snapped.”

You nod and lift his head up to look at you; “I’m really glad you stood up for me but you know you shouldn’t beat people up. I know it’s harder for you and I promise to help you through it okay?” You say with a smile and kiss his nose. You rub his back soothingly and he just fiddles with his fingers, obviously nervous. You grab his hands and kiss his knuckles, making him smile and you notice just the slightest hint of blush on his cheeks. You guys talk for the rest of the class you skipped in the bathroom and after the last bell rang you went home. You board the bus and sit down next to him and let him sleep for the rest of the bus ride. You both shared headphones and listened to your shared playlist that slowly lulled you to sleep.

#ben sbg x reader #ben clark #ben clark x reader #ben clark sbg #sbg ben #sbg ben clark #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard fanfiction #tyler sbg x reader #tyler hernandez x reader #tyler hernandez #sbg tyler x reader #sbg tyler

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joelsgreys · 1 year

Text

jealous

Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You aren't together, but Joel doesn't want to see you with anyone else.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. asshole Joel, jealous Joel, he softens up a bit though. established dynamic, Joel and reader have known each other for a decade.

word count: 2k

a/n: highkey i recycled this idea from myself b/c jealous Joel is like...so hot to me. i love this trope, my favorite variant is when he gets aggressively possessive however i don't think i can top some of the amazing fics out there that have gone that direction so i took a softer, fluffier approach to it. also, happy tlou finale day everyone, we'll get through it all together 💗

Jackson, Wyoming

Winter 2024

“Before you head out for patrol, I just wanted to say that I had a great time with you last night.”

Joel’s blood boiled hot in each and every single vein in his entire body as he watched the scene that was unfolding before him just outside of the horse stables. It was late in the evening, and Tommy’s group was gearing up to head out for tonight’s patrol.

You had just finished saddling up your borrowed horse, Daisy, when Owen had sauntered up to you. Joel didn’t know the man, aside from his name. He had been placed in Owen’s patrol group once or twice in the past several months since returning to Jackson, but for the most part, he’d never spoken more than two words to him, and even when he had, it was only when he really didn’t have a choice. Though he didn’t know Owen, one thing was for damn fucking sure—he didn’t like the way that he was looking at you.

And he definitely didn’t like the way that you were looking at him, either.

In the decade that he’d known you, Joel had never seen you lay your eyes on another man before, not until this very moment.

And it was bothering the fucking shit out of him.

“Yeah, I had a really nice time too,” You replied, flashing him a warm and friendly smile. It was in your nature to be sweet and kind to just about anyone you felt you could trust, that was nothing out of the ordinary, but seeing you interact so effortlessly with him only made Joel’s anger bubble even hotter.

Owen reached out to take your hand in his and Joel angrily clenched his fists the moment he touched you. “We should do it again sometime. Maybe on a night when you’re not stuck with patrol duty?” he suggested.

You nodded, smiling once again. “Sure, I’d really like that.”

Joel couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

He was mere seconds away from losing his goddamn mind. Though he had every desire to go up to Owen, snatched his hand away from yours and give him a piece of his mind, Joel had to remind himself that the last thing he needed to do was cause any kind of trouble in the settlement—Maria wouldn’t have any of that in her community, even if he was her husband’s brother.

After taking a minute to somewhat calm himself enough to a point where he knew he wouldn’t throw a punch, he stiffly walked towards the two of you, calling your name. “Hate to interrupt,” he practically sneered, “But we’re startin’ to lose our time. Tommy’s waitin’ for us at the gate.”

Owen grinned sheepishly, squeezing your hand. “Sorry about that, Miller. I didn’t mean to keep your patrol partner, here.”

Ignoring him, Joel narrowed his dark brown eyes at you. “Get on the horse and let’s fuckin’ go. Now.”

Your smile faded, your mouth falling open slightly in shock at his tone.

Though you knew Joel had always been rough around the edges with other people, he’d never spoken to you like that before. For a brief moment, it almost felt like he’d just slapped you across the face.

Without waiting for your response, he whirled around on the heel of his leather boot in the snow and stalked off towards his waiting stallion, his rifle hanging over his shoulder.

Owen frowned, letting go of your hand. “Jeez. What’s his deal?”

“I don’t know.” Your voice wavered slightly. “But I’m certainly going to find out.”

After bidding a quick goodbye to Owen, you quickly walked over to Joel just before he could climb up into the saddle of his horse.

“Excuse me, but what the fucking hell was that?” You asked fiercely as you approached him.

With his back still to you, he rigidly replied, “What was what?”

“Get on the horse and let’s fucking go. Now,” You mimicked him, crossing your arms over your chest. “How dare you fucking talk to me like that! What’s your fucking problem?”

He remained silent.

“Joel?” You waited for a moment, but still, he said nothing. “Hello? Joel, I’m talking to you! Answer me!”

Slowly, he turned around to face you. His eyes had gone stone cold.

You’d seen him give those eyes to others before, but he had never given them to you.

“In case you’ve forgotten, we have a lot of work to do around here. Tommy and Maria expect both of us to pull our fuckin’ weight if we want to stay here. You understand that?”

“But Joel—”

“We don’t have time for you to stand around flirtin’ with your little boyfriend over there and wastin’ time.”

Despite being angry, you could have laughed—you almost did.

Not wanting to add fuel to the fire, you managed to hold it back.

“First of all, we’re not fucking teenagers, Joel, so cut that shit out,” You said, letting your arms drop back down to your sides. “I hardly know Owen. We met at the Tipsy Bison last night, we had a few drinks and we were just telling each other that we had a good time, that’s all.”

Joel snorted, rolling his eyes. “Well, ain’t that fuckin’ sweet.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, taken aback by his behavior.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better, Joel Miller, I would say that you were jealous or something,” You accused him. You felt a shiver go up and down the length of your spine. It was hard to tell if it was because of the frigid, negative degree temperatures outside—or was it due to the fact that there was actually a possibility that the man you had been helplessly in love with for almost ten years now was bothered by the idea of you being with someone else?

He scoffed in response. “Don’t fuckin’ flatter yourself, sweetheart. I ain’t jealous.”

“Then why the hell are you so upset?”

“I ain’t upset, either.”

“Okay, then why else would you be acting like such a damn asshole towards me?” You challenged him, causing his jaw to clench tightly. “If you’re not jealous, then why do you look like you’re fucking ready to murder Owen with your bare hands?”

Joel groaned out of frustration. “Jesus, can you just fuckin’ drop it? We have to leave before Tommy—”

You reached out and grabbed his arm. “We’re not going anywhere until we talk this out, Joel. I need to know what’s going on with you. Please. Just fucking talk to me.”

He snatched his arm out of your grasp and took a step back. “What the fuck do you want me to say? That you’re absolutely right? That I’m fuckin’ jealous? That the second I saw that prick take your hand, it took every single ounce of strength I had inside me not to walk over and knock his fuckin’ head off his shoulders?”

You exhaled the shaky breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding back. “Joel, you have no fucking right to be jealous. You know how I feel about you, you have always known how I fucking feel about you. But you were the one who told me that we couldn’t be together, that we could never be together.” Your voice began to tremble, and you paused for a brief moment, trying to collect yourself. “You’re the one who said that we’d never be anything more than smuggling partners. Even after everything that’s happened with us, what we’ve been through with Ellie—you still keep me at arm’s length, now more than ever before.”

“So you finally found somebody else,” he stated, bitterly. “That it? You tryin’ to move on from me?”

“Yes. No.” You let out a small groan, knowing that if there was one thing you could not do, it was lie to Joel. “Yes, okay? I’ve been trying to fucking move on from you.”

Joel’s stomach sank at your admission. “And he’s the guy, huh?”

“Owen is a nice guy. And I really liked spending time with him—” You looked up at him, seeing the hurt flash in his eyes. “I’ve been so fucking lonely, alright?” You continued quickly before he could say anything. “You’ve been avoiding me for months now, Joel. Ever since we came back to Jackson, things have changed. Do you think I haven’t noticed that we only ever talk when we’re sent out on patrol together? That we don’t eat our meals together anymore like we used to? That whenever I even try and approach you, you make up some excuse to leave, even when we’re in our own fucking house?” Hot, frustrated tears blurred your vision. Not wanting to cry, you furiously blinked them back. “Ellie asked me the other day if something was wrong with us. Even she notices the way you’ve been treating me these last few months, Joel. How you avoid me like I’m the fucking plague.”

Joel opened his mouth to speak, but then clamped it shut, not knowing what to say.

“You can’t be upset with me for trying to move on, not when you’re the one who’s been pushing me away—and I don’t just mean here in Jackson. For ten fucking years you’ve been pushing me away, Joel.” Your voice cracked, and a tear finally gave way and slipped down the side of your face.

His expression suddenly softened. “I had to push you away, darlin’.”

You subconsciously stepped closer to him. “But why?”

“Because, what I felt—what I’ve been feelin’ for you, it’s somethin’ that I didn’t think I could feel for someone ever again. It’s so strong and runs so fuckin’ deep that it scares the shit out of me,” Joel confessed, a trembling edge to his tone. “Before Wyoming, it was so fuckin’ easy not to think about it. We were too busy fightin’ to survive, to protect Ellie—now that we’re here and every goddamn day isn’t a fight for survival, things changed, alright? What I feel for you runs through my mind all fuckin’ day. There ain’t no avoidin’ it.”

“Joel—”

He cut you off. “I never meant to hurt you. When we got here, I thought it’d be best to put some distance between us. I thought that maybe if I spent less time with you, what I feel would just go away somehow. But I was wrong. Wrong and stupid to think that what I’ve been feelin’ for ten fuckin’ years would just disappear.”

“What do you feel for me, Joel?” You whispered, looking up at him.

Your eyes widened in a slight surprise as Joel reached up and gently cupped your cheek in the palm of his gloved hand. He put his other hand on your hip and pulled you as close as he possibly could to him. He looked deeply into your eyes as your arms wrapped themselves tightly around his neck. Joel leaned down into you, and the both of you stood absolutely still, each waiting for the other to make the final move.

Finally, it was Joel who closed the remaining distance between you and him.

He softly pressed his lips to yours. Any and all hesitation that he might have had before vanished completely as you parted your lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss.

“That,” he said breathlessly once he’d pulled away, “Is what I feel for you.”

“Never thought I’d see the fucking day,” You murmured against his lips, a tiny, joking smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Joel leaned his forehead against yours and sighed, his warm breath tickling your nose. “Look darlin’, m’real sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. It’s just that seein’ you with that prick, the thought of you with him, or with any other man that ain’t me, I just couldn’t fuckin’ handle it.” He paused briefly, taking a look around. Part of him hoped Owen was still around and watching his every move. “I’m gonna have to find a way to make sure every man in Jackson knows you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” You assured him, gently. “Believe me. You are the only man that I could ever want. I’m all yours, Joel.”

#joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller pedro pascal #the last of us imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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oomisluvr · 1 year

Text

DREAMS, FAIRYTALES, & FANTASIES (WHEN YOU'RE AROUND ME)

synopsis: sakusa thinks your confidence is sexy. give him a twirl, won't you?

warnings: flirty!sakusa, suggestive, allusions to sex but nothing graphic i promise, reader is fine as hell, sakusa is horny because reader is fine as hell, swearing probably, proof read exactly one (1) time, can someone please buy me a skims dress

SAKUSA has always been comfortable in the role of an observer. Distant. Disconnected. Always calculating. There’s so much you can learn about a person by just watching them.

“Do I look okay?” You ignore the intensity of his stare, smoothing away any wrinkles in your skintight dress with a sweaty palm, “It’s not too much for a company dinner?”

Kiyoomi’s eyes sweep up and down your figure, before flicking them up to meet yours through the mirror.

“I’m not sure,” He hums, doing a terrible job at hiding his intentions, a lazy smile on his handsome face, “C’mere for a second.”

Abandoning the array of makeup on your vanity, you skitter over to where he sits on the edge of your shared bed. Kiyoomi’s gaze almost has a physical presence; you can practically feel his eyes on you.

“Give me a twirl, pretty.”

You laugh easily, giving into his request and making a show spinning on your heels to highlight every angle of your outfit. He offers a low whistle in return.

“This dress is a little tight, no?” You can hear his smirk.

“Is that a problem?” You sass, breath catching a bit when you feel the calluses of his hand smooth over your waist and hips, dipping down to toy with the exposed skin of your thigh at the hem of your dress.

“Not at all,” He responds with a breathy chuckle, “You look beautiful, baby. I love how confident you are when you get dolled up.”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he parrots, a little breathless because you always seem to have that effect on him, “It’s unbelievably sexy.”

Like an alligator nabs its prey, Sakusa’s arms reach out to you, pulling you into his lap. He chuckles a bit when you squeal, feeling the vibrations of the sound everywhere.

“God, you look amazing.” He mumbles to the sweet skin of your neck, like it’s a secret belonging only to him, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come with you. I would love to be your accessory for the night.”

You giggle at the comment, ”Accessory?”

“Accessory might be too kind of a word, actually.” He jokes, “I’d look like hot garbage standing next to you. God, how could you settle like this?”

“Stop!” You playfully demand, not a fan of his self-deprecating sense of humor, “I happen to find you quite handsome! You look good! Sexy, even!”

“Wrong,” he hums to the shell of your ear, wrapping his arms around you and pulling tight because somehow sitting on his lap wasn’t close enough for him, “You make me look good. I love showing you off.”

“You’re a terrible flirt.” You soften at his admission, angling his head with a manicured finger and closing the space between the two of you. Slotting your lips against his, you let Kiyoomi lead, the kiss keeping a lazy rhythm. It’s all tongue and soft sucking; slow because you know he’ll miss you, even over a few hours. You pull away dissatisfied–no amount of kisses will ever be enough, “I love you.” It’s barely above a whisper.

“I love you, too.” You can see the hearts in his eyes, “Be safe tonight, okay? Call me if anything.”

You nod, wiping away flecks of red that transferred from your lips to his, “You’re still picking me up?”

“And dropping you off.” He confirms.

You frown a bit, suddenly nervous again, “Is it lame if I show up early? What time do you think we should leave?”

“Well, you have two options,” He grins, “We can leave now and get there by 7. Very much on time.”

“And the other?” He grins, equal parts flirtatious and predatory, pointed canines coming into view, “We fuck right now and you show up fashionably late.”

(jump cut to reader showing up 90 minutes late with a dopey smile and a poorly-hid hickey on her neck. the camera pans to reader also leaving early LMAOO)

#sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa smut #hq sakusa #hq x reader #haikyuu #haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#msby #msby sakusa #msby sakusa kiyoomi #masterlist

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laiiaaa · 11 months

Text

WHEN RAFE CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF YOU

Soft sounds of the waterfront waft in through the open doors to Rafe’s balcony, filling the room with a gentle breeze that flows through the loose fabric of the white button-up you snagged from the floor and leaving a chill on your skin. He lays in bed beneath you, his hips between your thighs as you smooth your hands over his warm, tanned skin and trace the love bites left over on his chest and collarbone.

His hands stay on your thighs and at your hips, fingers dancing beneath the hem of your lace panties. “You’re so beautiful,” he says, smiling up at you to drink in the sight of your messy hair and swollen lips, a terribly love-drunk smile on his face. “I wanna stay like this forever, you know?”

“Yeah?” You lean down to lay chest to chest, arching your back as one of his hands smooths over the curve of your ass and rests at the small of your back. Your hands curve gently to cup his jaw, and you take in his flushed cheeks and hazy eyes before you hum into a kiss. “You wouldn’t get sick of me?” you ask, words spilling from your lips into his.

He scoffs. “Are you kidding? I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Oh, really?”

Rafe—rough around the edges, snarky little thing that he is—doesn’t know whether anything could feel as good as seeing that giddy expression on your face when he spills his heart on the floor. So of course, he can’t help but quip back “Really” as his hands work beneath what is oh so clearly his white button up, what with the fabric pooling at your arms and swallowing your shoulders. He can’t help it when his hands hold your firmer, pressing you tighter to him like it’ll bond you together eternally (he’s sure he’d be the happier one at that, even if you begged to differ). He can’t help it when, having your fingers trace along the contours of his face, trailing from between his brows to his nose and to his lips, he nudges your hand away just to steal another smile-ridden kiss from your mouth.

He murmurs something sweet—“And if it ever were possible,” he starts, a near toothache ringing through his jaw that resonates so deep into his chest he can only call it love, “I’d cure it myself.” He almost wants to laugh the words away and clean that slate, cringing at the thought of being so…sappy, but there’s clarity in the grin you shoot back at him. The hands that were once pulling you closer relax in knowing you’re sticking around, and they soften to resume leaving invisible shapes in your skin.

“You’re such an idiot,” you giggle, tucking your head into the crook of his neck and pressing the slightest of kisses to that blessed place.

“Only for you—and I’m perfectly okay with that.”

“Even if I tell all your friends?” You drag one hand down his chest, and stop when you reach his heart. You swear it beats a little faster, a little stronger, a little louder when he’s with you. “Tell ‘em you’ve gone off the deep end?”

“You can tell the whole world whatever you want, baby—” his arms circle around you, as if trying to memorize to the finest detail what it’s like to feel the adoration flowing from his fingertips stick to your skin and leave you welded together— “It’s not gonna change how much I care about you.”

And with the way his lips press oh so gently against your temple, the care with which he pulls a blanket over your shoulders, the dedication that stays hidden in his words, you know he's honest. And with your breath against his skin, those quiet little hums of sheer comfort that reach his ears, he knows—without any words—that you believe him.

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe fanfiction #outer banks #obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #rafe x you #rafe x reader #outer banks fanfiction #box imagine #outer banks imagine #outer banks rafe #rafe fic #rafe cameron fluff #rafe fluff

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killinfate · 6 months

Note

Hellooo hii how are you? I hope you're doing amazing today! Could you do a Mike x fem!reader where Mike keeps having nightmares with what happened at the pizzeria and the reader tries to comfort him but she never succeeded. So one night she goes to the kitchen and sits on the kitchen counter while thinking about Mike and how to make him feel better but instead, Mike joins her in the kitchen for a glass of water. And they start talking a little bit and somehow Mike ends up in front of Reader's legs (while she's still on the counter, he's up yk) and they look at each other and it's just fluff and they kiss? :3 -🦡

love this thank you so much for your request!

REASSURED.

MIKE SCHMIDT X READER

— HE AWOKE, HIS BREATHING ERRATIC AND HIS HEART THUMPING OUT OF HIS CHEST. HE PULLED HIS SHIRT UP FOR ANY STAB MARKS BUT SAW NOTHING THERE.

He sighed and let his shirt drop back down over his torso.

Another nightmare.

You woke up at his suddenness and sat up slightly with a groan. Mike closed his eyes, his jaw tensing slightly. He hated when you’d wake up and see him like this, he hated it.

“Mike?” You asked, your voice tired. You’d been dating Mike for a good while now and happened to stay over frequently. Mike didn’t like you driving in the dark and thought it was a better option if you stayed the night, dismissing the fact he had the same reoccurring nightmare every single night. Not about his brother, but the pizzeria.

You reached out for his shoulder and he flinched slightly, more fragile than he liked to admit. You retracted your hand.

“I’m sorry.” You apologised. “If you’d like to talk—“ Mike cut you off. He didn’t want to talk, not at all. Keeping his emotions in check he let out a strained.

“I’m fine. Let’s just go back to sleep okay?” He told you, laying back down in bed. He lay closer to the edge this time and you noticed.

He didn’t want you to worry or feel pity for him; he was your boyfriend, not some lost cause.

The next night was the same, only more intense. He woke up in a cold sweat and sat up immediately. Mike ran a hand over his chest, once again checking for stab marks before relaxing only slightly. Something felt…strange.

Your side was lighter and Mike’s eyes averted to it. You were gone and the door was agape. Mike shot out of bed, his mind immediately racing. He called for you, running out the bedroom. He ran down the hall, his breathing unsteady as his eyes looked around frantically. He couldn’t lose you.

Finally they landed on you who approached him, going to caress his face. “Mike?” You said, clearly concerned. He took a step back.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He mumbled, walking past you. With a defeated look you sat on the counter, your legs dangling off it. Mike ran a hand over his face, going to the sink and running some water over his face. He turned it off and walked to the fridge, glancing at you.

He opened it, grabbing a bottle of water. “What are you doing up?” He asked, catching his breath and opening the bottle, taking a long thirsty sip. You looked to him and looked down at your hands slightly. You just wanted to comfort him and he wasn’t letting you.

“I went to get a drink.” She told him. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you’d—“ Mike cut you off.

“Don’t apologise.” He said quietly, closing the fridge. There was a moment of silence, a silence that allowed Mike to think about his next words.

His eyes softened as he looked at you. He loved you and all you were asking was for him to let you love him in return. Mike was so scared, the same fear he felt that very night at the pizzeria.

“I thought I’d lost you.” Mike’s voice was quiet and his eyes filled with tears. He walked over to you, slowly standing in front of you. You weren’t going to pull him into your arms, not if he didn’t want it.

His hands rested on your thighs for a moment before his hands came up to your waist, his arms embracing you and holding you tightly. He closed his eyes and buried his head in your chest, holding onto you as if you were going to disappear.

You were taken aback by Mike’s sudden need for affection but you weren’t rejecting it. You held him close to you and kissed his forehead, caressing the back of his head and holding him closely.

“You aren’t gonna lose me, alright?” You told him and he looks up. He knew you couldn’t promise that but he was going to try and do the most to protect you.

That started by letting you see his vulnerability, giving him a reason to have you close.

Mike looked to you with tired eyes before leaning in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. He kissed each corner of your mouth, then the tip of your nose and over your chin adoringly. Mike looked to you once more before leaving a kiss on your lips again, pulling away after a few moments only slightly.

“I love you.” He murmured against your lips, then you leaned in and gave him one more kiss.

“I love you too, I’m not going anywhere.” You promised; that was a promise that was never certain, but for now he was reassured by your words.

#mike schmidt imagine #five nights at freddy’s movie #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #80s #josh hutcherson imagine #josh hutcherson

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ilyuu · 11 months

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a confession.

words born from within the depths of feelings, the heart a tug to a path too intimate, too unfamiliar to a few as it navigates. at the tip of their tongue rests a string of words that can shift ties alone (or he confesses to you.)

ft. alhaitham, dainsleif, diluc, scaramouche & xiao.

warnings : bits of angst (dainsleif, diluc & scaramouche), fluff, literally fluff, confessions (surprise!) alhaitham is a menace, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n : hi 😀

alhaitham.

“i love you.”

sway of leaves, tips touching the glass. soot dusting the shelves, worn covers and pages left open. muted shades of a home a comfort. in the living room, wherein tinted shards of glass swallows the light in colors, it paints a myriad of shades onto you. and yet, it all fades into the background, a scenery, as the book in your hand weighs a bit lighter than it was a second ago; his words to the air weigh heavier than the ones in hand.

“…huh?”

his eyes turn to his side, on you, taking in any and every feature of yours to read any reaction - he didn’t need to look , with how close the two of you are, he could feel the warmth radiating from you. the quiet that you once enjoyed seemed to stretch on for what felt like an eternity.

“wait, wait. like as in like or…”

“is there another definition i should be aware of?”

the book in his hand slowly closes to a shut, a small bookmark tucked in the pages. the words printed onto there, words of one’s perspective out of the many fragments of the whole, falls for naught in this moment in particular.

“i love you, [name]. what i feel for you goes beyond the confinement of someone i see as, no less, a companion. i enjoy your company more than i expect to, i find myself thinking of you throughout points of the day despite of no reason to, among others, your voice had always stood out—”

“alhaitham.”

“—as well as wondering for your well-being whenever i have yet to see you for the day. on that note, when we do occasionally cross paths, i’d find myself in a state of tranqu—”

“stop.”

he does. the light hides little, and he sees how you try to hide yourself in your hands, not letting him see a bit of the look you’re wearing right now. but it’s obvious. if anything, it might as well be an open secret between the two of you with how his gaze subtly softens. those eyes you’ve always been drawn to, since the moment you’ve seen him, sees you and alone.

“…i love you too.”

“i thought as much.”

“would it kill you to be a bit more romantic?”

he hums. no later, he leans in and presses his lips against your temple. the surge of happiness that followed that small peck only made you to cave into yourself further. in some distant part, you’ve heard him say, “is that alright with you?”

dainsleif.

red petals swaying, akin to windmills. a draft of wind drifting in the air. a quiet aria that floats aloft aimlessly (one neither you or him can catch.) from the tower, though careful, you found yourself sitting on a jagged edge of the walkway, ivy and moss slithering among the cracks of the walls. your fingers felt the rough surface for a few moments, taking it all in alongside with him. the cold in the air isn’t the same as him - a familiar touch, there was, to him with all the time you’ve been with him.

and too much familiarity has you lulled into a state of comfort and unconsciousness. he’s noticed that as he sees you away fro and to, toppling. his hand hovers over your head, lightly pressing it against his shoulder as some sort of stability - or a pillow, whichever you prefer. there’s a tension in his fingers, nearly trembling, as it touches you, as if not used to this (and he isn’t.)

it burns. his fingertips burns.

“…there is no need for me to stay,” he murmurs, words faint in the name of the wind, “and i am aware of that as much as you are. there is nothing that roots me to this land - no relation, no matter of emotional connection… other than you.”

“time again, i am reminded how i live beyond the constant flow of time. something fleeting is but a dream. and you’ve given me a many; these moments with you… feels akin to a dream. none that asks for a endless life, a demise - simply a life with you.”

“i… i love you.” he looks at you. the air brushes your hair (in a way he yearns to as of late.)

“i love you more than i should.”

diluc.

soft shafts of sunlight rousing awake at the dot of the horizon. mahogany handrails bearing years of use. a pair of birds chirping, a string of song. the rails held you still as you stare at the skies, a melting harmony of rose and gold, always something of a sight that stole your breath away. it felt even better, framed by his presence, waves of his warmth wafting over to you. the slight wisps of wind tousled his hair, more of a mess than it already was, as he soaks in the touch of dawn once more (and yet again.)

and underneath your eyes does he slowly lose his composure, bit by bit. do

“you know,” your voice lifted the soft silence in the air, “i like watching these types of sunrises, i’ll say that… but any other reason you woke me up this early and dragged me here?”

“ah…” he shifts his gaze from yours, all curious, all seeing. he coughs into his fist, trying to clear his throat of all the tension. “i suppose my methods were a bit… unorthodox. in fact, yes, there is.”

“oh?” you lift your head up, just enough to look at him. you didn’t notice how close the two of you were together, and so you nearly touched the tip of his nose with his. “oh—”

he stays silent. his skin, as pale as it is, flared into a shade as red as his hair is, to the point that you don’t know where he starts or ends. he opens his mouth and closes it, the amount of times he did lost on you, and ended up biting his lip. there’s a bit of hesitation in every little thing he did, a stiffness, as he blows out a puff of air.

“hey, diluc?” you tilt your head, and as you stare at him with those eyes of yours, he feels as though it truly was the last straw. “do you need anyt—”

“i love you.”

your breath caught in your throat as much as his did. once again, a silence hangs, and yet, a quiet question and an unsaid answer remains in the air. he’s avoiding any contact with you, rather content in just staring at his fingers, biting into the wood of the handrails to the point of leaving marks.

“i… i— wait, what?”

he winces. so do you and you try again. “i mean… diluc, can you say that again? please?”

the seconds stretch on. it didn’t seem as though he’ll say anything, alright with the way his confession coalesces with the sun-kissed vines and barrels. and then he did. “i love you, [name]. always had, always will.”

“if it’s not too much for me to say, then… i’ve always appreciated how you stood beside, even when i’ve, on multiple occasions, attempted to push you away for your own good. a light that never yielded - the one thing that didn’t change.”

“and i’ve admired you for that. soon, that admiration turned into adoration with every single thing you do, and it had only grown from there.”

his cheeks cooled down a bit, yet still held some red in it. “of course, this is simply how i feel. whether you share this or n—”

“i do.”

he spun his head to you, and met eyes that held the same, if not more, adoration as his. the epitome of your feelings in your words as you said, “i love you too, diluc. always had, always will.”

scaramouche.

nature of the night surrounding the two of you. waves ebbing and flowing, foam rolling in. reflection of a moon rippled in the eye. he digs his hands into the sand, feeling the particles lost on his skin and, if anything, to numb the air nipping at him. he feels your eyes on his, eerily similar to the sea - calm, silent. patient. he folds his fingers, nails biting into the palm of his hands to etch in the feelings, thoughts, that kept a home in him a bit longer than he’d like.

“you know,” he says, “never in all the years have i existed did i think there was room for something futile.”

“i’m starting to wonder what isn’t futile in your eyes.”

“not the point.”

“agree to disagree.” there’s a smile in your voice - not that he has to see it, he just hears it and it’s enough for him. “but i’ll shut up. go on.”

“as i was saying,” he sighs, as if to let go of that air trapped in his throat, “you’re well aware of all the connections i’ve made, and that it all didn’t end as some happily ever after either like those stories.”

“again and again did the world tell me that i’m not worth the love of a family, a friend, let alone… someone more.”

from the corner of his eye, he sees you perk up at those last few words. like a small dollop of fire swallowed in the dark - a hope. and he looks to you, seeing you in your whole as you did just a few moments ago. he’d look at you in a particular way, maybe, as he watch your eyes widen just slightly, and that small light in you flickers to life.

you didn’t give yourself that hope though, you refuse to. this is him you’re talking about. the fact that you’re even here right now next to him because he asked you to was a miracle in and of itself. you’re as close to him as you’re alright with, and didn’t wish to cross this line that was so far away when you’ve met him - you didn’t want to feel far from him.

he opens his mouth, and with a voice dripping with hesitation, he says, “and you defy the world simply by being with me. everything you say, think, do - it’s as if you’re against fate itself, the very fate that ties us all together, whether we like it or not. that’s why i like you.”

his next words drips with a tenderness you seldom hear from him (up to this point.) “that’s why i love you.”

xiao.

lanterns lit, dotted across like stars. a bittersweet scent of incense clings to him. blades of grass crunching beneath any shift of movement. away from the life of the last few hours, the sun just shy of sleeping, the greetings of lofty shadows followed the two of you along the path to a place familiar, a step closer to home, if anything. since then, with little to o space within you and him, the times your hands grazed sending a static each and every time (the same with the slight blush touching his cheeks.)

“[name].”

a soft call of your name tugged you out of your thoughts. when you set your gaze on him, he stares back to you - feelings that you can’t put a name to coalescing. you see him open and close his mouth many times, the words at the tip of his tongue, and simply not taking form the way he wants them to. it’s cute, if anything, and as it continues, you couldn’t help the small smile that came to your lips.

there’s a small voice in the back of your head that tells you what, but it quickly quietens when his fingers brushes the back of your hand yet again. this time, he twines with yours. the cold presence of his glove sends a shiver to you - a rather pleasant one. from that, it’s as if he’s found the words.

“i… i am fond of you.” his eyes flits to yours. “more than i have intended. than i realized. at some point, in some time, your presence, your very existence, became… irreplaceable. something that i come to look forward to. and… the thought of not seeing you, even if for a day…”

his hand tightens its hold on yours.

“i am aware of how selfish this request is, and that i am not worthy for someone like you - that there is someone else that is capable of cherishing you - but… if you’ll let me have this, at the very least…”

you feel the pad of his thumb brush the back of your hand in slow, simple circles, whether to soothe you or himself. who knows? only that the touch sent a smile to you. you carried his hand to yours, and his questioning eyes widened just slightly when he feels your lips graze his knuckles in a feather-light touch.

“and i’m fond of you as well, xiao.”

he huffs, and turns his head the other way. the few streaks of sunlight held him in such softness, and coalesced along with the shade of his irises in a warm tandem.

general taglist (open!) : @zuyoo, @starz222, @haliyamori, @kazumist, @tartaglia-apologist, @mikacynth, @angelkazusstuff, @doumalove, @kpop-and-otome, @emo-mess, @mx-kaedehara . . .

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #dainsleif x reader #dainsleif x you #diluc x reader #diluc x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #xiao x reader #xiao x you

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garoujo · 2 years

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「 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 | 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍 」

feat : gojo satoru, geto suguru, fushiguro toji, fushiguro megumi, nanami kento, yuuta okkotsu + itadori yuuji

warnings : f. reader, previous breeding, aged!up characters & jujutsu tech sorcerer geto, how they take care of you after sex, softer moments.

note : i’m very deep in some brain rot with jjk men and it shows :,) my limit is normally five but i couldn’t decide who i wanted so !

・✶ ｡ﾟGOJO SATORU

— it’s almost immediate the way satoru melts into you after, his heavy cock softening inside of your still twitching walls and even though he almost collapses on top of you—it still feels intimate when he shoots you a more handsome, pink cheeked smirk, a breathless laugh falling from his lips as he gazes down at you.

“cmeer.” satoru grumbles, his biceps trembling as he falls down onto his side beside you before pulling you against his naked chest, peppering a few open mouthed kisses along your temple when you’re close enough as his slender, warm hands smooth across the dip of your spine. “you feel okay? was i too good?” the snowy haired male hums, teasing, but catching his breath and you feel his arms tighten around you at the question as he blinks down at you, leaning in again to place a few kisses against your pouty lips. “i’m good, ‘toru.” you reply and you watch his lips stretch into a grin at the sound of your voice “i’d say you’re better than just good.” satoru smiles, his hands moving to massage along the faint marks on your waist and you can’t help but melt into the featherlight touches, a stark opposite from the tight grip his hands had on your hips moments ago. “should probably clean up, huh?” you sigh, feeling the stickiness between your thighs and you hear your boyfriend groan before he flops over you slightly, caging you underneath him so he can nuzzle into the crook of your neck—leaving a few ticklish kisses behind with another airy laugh. “yeah, but you’re warm, and don’t you think i deserve a rest after that, sweetheart?” only deciding to get up when he feels like he’s stolen enough kisses from you, shooting you a wink and a smirk when your legs tremble as you stand.

・✶ ｡ﾟGETO SUGURU

— he was always a little clingy after sex and treated you like you were made of glass, wanting nothing more than to curl up into you afterwards to make sure you know how much he appreciates you—he knows he won’t be able to rest until he knows youre looked after. always pulling himself out of bed to clean you up.

“you doing okay?” suguru breathes, sweaty and panting above you as he leans over to place a gentle kiss to your temple, falling down onto the mattress beside you after while he catches his breath. “yeah, suguru—im good.” you murmur in reply, whimpering quietly at the growing stickiness between your legs and the slight discomfort on your face doesn’t get past your boyfriend as his eyes narrow, his body rolling over to the edge of the bed shortly after before he stands—pretty red scratch marks littering the pale skin of his back as he takes the hair tie out of his already messy hair. you blink up at suguru as he grabs his sweatpants, pulling them over his legs before turning to lean over you once more, pecking your lips as his thumb smoothes over your cheek affectionately “let me clean you up, baby.” he hums, shooting you a pink cheeked, lopsided grin before he leaves the room, returning with a wet cloth and your favourite shirt of his as he softly cleans the mess between your thighs, his other hand smoothing over your waist to soothe you when you wriggle in discomfort “almost there, babe—did so good for me.”

・✶ ｡ﾟ FUSHIGURO TOJI

— toji was rough, all blunt lines and sharp thrusts until you’re crumbling beneath him but despite his blunt, prickly exterior he still tried to take care of you the best he could afterwards. always trying his best to make you feel cared for, in his type of way.

you can already feel the aches in your body when toji pulls back from his place caging you against the mattress, calloused palms smoothing along the underside of your thighs when he finally allows them to fall from your chest and rest at your sides. “it hurt?” the dark haired male grunts, eyes flickering towards you and you’re not sure if it’s the fog still clouding your mind or if there’s something softer in his gaze when he looks at you, watching his well trained muscles move under the skin as he stretches, groaning deep at the relief he feels. toji turns to shoot you a lopsided, lazy sort of grin but it reminds you that he’s pretty and present, before he leaves, returning a few moments later with glass of water as he tsks, messily throwing a few pillows against the headboard before he makes a lazy attempt at fluffing them up with a few slaps—helping your sore body to rest against them after as he hands you the glass in his hands with a nod “drink. i’ll start you a shower.” feeling his fingers smooth along your leg soothingly, and you know it’s his own way of wordlessly making you feel better.

・✶ ｡ﾟ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

— he gets a little scared he’s hurt you in any way so he’s always so attentive after, everything he learned he really learned from you, making sure you’re okay as he pulls you into his arms—his fingers roaming your body affectionately to smooth out any tension.

you shudder when you feel megumi pull out, your walls suddenly feeling empty after the loss of his heavy cock and you blink up at him when his eyebrows pull into a cute frown—framed by his pink cheeks and messy hair. “is it sensitive?” he huffs, his hands smoothing practiced shapes into your skin and you’re thankful for how gentle his touch seemed to always be with you. “you’re not sore right? wasn’t too much?” megumi asks again as his eyes meet yours and you feel your heart bloom at the worry pooling in the azure staring back at you. “i’m fine, ‘gumi. i promise.” “good.” he continues his movements, allowing you to relax before he moves to the edge of the bed and you can’t help but admire the way the muscles of his back move when he stretches, earning you a gentle, blushy smile from over his shoulder after before he turns to place a peck against your lips. “we should probably clean up, you normally have to pee too, right?” megumi hums as he holds you against his chest, grabbing a few comfy clothes for you before he helps you to the bathroom.

・✶ ｡ﾟ NANAMI KENTO

— he always takes aftercare very seriously, there was a lot of strength behind each of his thrusts—his body well trained and brooding, so he knows you can get a little sore after which is why he’s always going to be there to make sure you’re well taken care of. he likes the moments after to bask in you, his heart thudding against his chest.

nanami shoots you a gentle look when you turn around to face him over your shoulder, his body still curled over your back as you stay bent over underneath him—his hips pushed against your ass and there’s a certain comfort in the silence that blankets the room after until he eventually moves. “are you okay? sore anywhere?” nanami grumbles, his hands warm as they smooth up the dip of your spine, kneading at your hips and sides affectionately before he moves to sit against the headboard, guiding you to rest against his broad chest as he intertwines his fingers with your own. “just a little.” you reply and nanami kisses your forehead “i’ll run you a bath when we get cleaned up, i got some of the soak you like.” his gaze is soft and assuring when he speaks, his other hand continuing to dance along your skin in such a way that has you sinking into him with a delighted sigh and a nod, earning you another kiss from the blonde haired male. “you’re so good to me, sweetheart.”

・✶ ｡ﾟYUUTA OKKOTSU

— he’s attentive after losing himself in you. his eyes still a little dazed and his hair messy but you’re still his first priority, even when his muscles are sore and fatigued he still looks at you fondly when he leans over you before getting up, walking over to flick on the bathroom light while shooting you a drowsy smile.

you hear yuuta huff as he rolls off of you, his chest rising with each shakey breath he takes beside you and he turns his head to smile at you when you inch nearer, his arm moving to rest over you—encouraging you to cuddle up closer. “you look so pretty.” he breathes, his cheeks still flushed and his dark hair is mused from your hands and his efforts, his fingers moving to trace their way up the dip of your waist as you blink up at him. “was it okay?” yuuta asks, a slight nervous edge to his voice as he bites on his bottom lip but you watch them stretch into another soft grin when you nod in reply. “was perfect.” he sighs at your words, a content sort of sound before he leans in for you both to share a kiss, a slower kind that has you melting into him, drowsiness heavy in your features when you pull away and yuuta places another against your temple before he stands, making his way over to the bathroom to start the shower. he adjusts it slightly, approaching you again after as he crouches beside the bed with a gentle look “come, let’s clean up, i’ll take care of you.”

・✶ ｡ﾟITADORI YUUJI

— he always got lost in you, putting all of his strength behind each thrust so you’re never surprised when you feel a little achy after—but yuuji was always there. not only feeling a little remorseful but also to help you whenever you needed him. immediately making sure that you’re okay and that he didn’t hurt you.

your mind is still blurry, your thighs trembling against yuuji’s palms as he gently rests them down from their place pressed against your chest—but you still feel the warmth of his hands when they smooth over the aching muscles after, a small pout on his lips as he blinks down at you. “i’m sorry, babe.” yuuji grumbles, his eyes locked on your doughy cunt before he finally pulls out with a hiss, allowing himself a few extra seconds to admire the way his cum drips from between your folds before his gaze finally meets yours. “i’m okay, yuuji.” you reply, your voice still like honey despite the slight raspiness but it makes the pink haired male perk up immediately when he hears it, leaning over you to pepper a few wet kisses across your cheeks and face. “you just feel so good.” yuuji hums again, his tone a little lighter when he smiles at you and you try to sit up before you hiss at the ache between your thighs. “oh no, baby! cmeer—i’ll take care of you, okay?” his words are followed by him climbing off the bed to gather you into his arms, helping you to the bathroom with whispered praises about how good you are to him while he runs you a bath.

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yandere-daydreams · 27 days

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Title: Unending.

Continuation of Undeterred.

Pairing: Furina x Reader (+Arlecchino) [Genshin].

Word Count: 1.1k.

TW: Mentions of Consensual Sex and Melodramatic Lesbians. Live Dove: Tender and Sweet.

[commissioned piece. donate to palestinians in gaza here.]

Furina had not been made to be loved.

It was an unfortunate truth she’d come to terms within the first decade of her being. As an archon, she’d received adoration. As a performer and a director, she knew appraise. She’d experienced things like love, things that came very close, but never love itself. Her creator had not loved her, no more than Focalors had loved any of the people she’d come so close to dooming, and even those she’d been close to as a goddess were no more able to love her than a member of the audience would be able to love a starring actress. And that was the way it should be, she was able to convince herself on her best days. There was no point yearning for things that could never be. What had she ever done to be worthy of love, in the first place?

“My lady?”

She didn’t stir at the sound of your footsteps, only leaning more of her weight onto the balcony guardrail and throwing the quickest, slightest glance over her shoulder. You were a sight – hair thoroughly tussled, discolored bruising in the shape of Lord Arlecchino’s teeth painted down either side of your throat, a robe of ivory silk pulled loose over your body – but she was sure that she was no better, herself. The insatiable exhaustion that seemed to drape itself over her perpetually was now paired with a distinct ache in her shoulders, a soreness at the base of her throat. It would be worse in the morning, although shame would’ve started to soften the night’s harsher edges, by them.

You didn’t ask before taking a seat next to her and thrusting a porcelain chalice into her lap. “More wine?” she asked, taking it up reflexively.

“Water,” you corrected, settling into place beside her. “I thought you might want to start chipping away at tomorrow’s burden.”

Only half-consciously, Furina found herself smiling. She’d always been fond of that side of the human mind – always so considerate, even when the slanted angle of your posture and the slight limp in your step made it clear you’d rather still be in bed. Gods, like her, were rarely so selfless.

Only, she wasn’t a god anymore. She’d never been, really – only an actress preforming the role of one.

She stopped herself before could spiral any further.

You’d rather be in bed, she retreated back to, instead. Furina was sure of it. That was where she’d left you – Arlecchino’s face still buried between your thighs, your hands balling at her silk sheets in pleasure. It was a good match – you and Arlecchino, two brilliant minds hidden behind cruel tongues and beautiful faces. She could only hope that, once you took your rightful place at the Harbinger’s side, you’d remember to write her a letter every now and then. “You really should start packing,” she muttered, absent-mindedly. “I think I remember Lord Arlecchino mentioning that her ship leaves at dawn.”

You hummed. “And where would I be sailing away to, my lady?”

“…Snezhnaya? That is, unless she has obligations elsewhere.”

Another hum, a quick shake of your head. “Snezhnaya’s far too cold at this time of year. If it were Mondstadt, maybe, but for Snezhnaya, I’m afraid I’d never be able to force myself off the boat. Fontaine’s climate is much more agreeable.”

Her lips quirked downward. “Don’t patronize me, I—” Her voice cut out, abruptly. It was a fight to summon it again, but she soldiered on. “I know her interest in you is genuine. You’d be a fool not to leave with her.” You opened your mouth, but she only raised her voice. “If you’re afraid of leaving me alone, don’t be. I—I can manage on my own, and—”

She grit her teeth, clenching her eyes shut. In an instant, your hand was on her shoulder, your side pressed into her arm, but she refused to let herself fall back into the familiar haven of your comfort. “And,” she managed, eventually, even if her voice was weak, her tone dangerously close to tipping into something suitably pathetic. “It’s not as if I’m an archon, anymore. You don’t have to keep pretending you like being around me.”

You let a moment pass by in silence, then another.

Finally, you said, “It’s true that Lord Arlecchino is very charming.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, just—”

“And her prowess on the battlefield and at the war-table can’t be overstated.”

“Well, it’s unfair to compare—”

“And I’m sure her salary as a Harbinger would make it so that I never had to lift a finger for as long as I choose to stay with her.”

“Alright, I never asked to you to do all that—”

“But,” you went on, your hand falling onto her own and squeezing, gently. “I’m afraid I’ve already sent her away. I doubt it’ll last, but for the moment, she seems assured of my total and utter inability to reciprocate her affection.”

Furina couldn’t help but blanch. “You sent her—Why? She’s so handsome, and tall, and—”

“And I’m not in love with her.” You slumped against her, your exhaustion shining through your low-brewing mirth. “It’s awful, honestly. It’s a terrible waste, honestly. I’m afraid the girl who’s truly stolen my heart is far too oblivious to ever notice me.”

Her eyes widened. It was in turn to take your hand, now, to snap towards you – her fatigue instantly replaced with curiosity. “You’re in love with someone? Who? Why haven’t you told me?”

Your only response was a slight smile, an airy laugh. Your eyes darted up to meet hers, and Furina felt her cheeks start to burn. “Oh.”

“I know,” you said, with another breathy chuckle. “Like I said, it’s terrible.”

Oh.

It felt like a stupid thing to ask. It was a stupid thing to ask, but her hand was shaking by the time it found your cheek and her throat felt dry and it was all she could do to make herself say anything at all. “Can I…?”

She couldn’t finish, but she didn’t have to. Your mouth was already crashing into hers, the kiss more tender than any other form of intimacy she’d experienced that night, any other form of affection her immortality had ever seen fit to afford her. She felt tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes, something dry and choking begin to swell at the base of her throat, but she choked it down, melting against you.

Furina, the archon, had not been meant to be loved.

And yet, there was still a chance that Furina, the human, might turn out differently.

#woman loving wednesday #on saturday #(i know i'm late i'm sorry)#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact imagines #furina #furina x reader #furina x you #genshin furina

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paper-crab · 5 months

Text

It’s cold

summary: it’s late and it’s cold outside and matt is avoiding your questions

warnings: unintentionally a bit suggestive

wc: 998

“What are you doing up?” Matt asks you. He’s visibly shaking from the chilly Boston weather, but he’s wrapped in a hoodie and a blanket. He lifts the blanket up, creating a spot for you on the little outdoor loveseat.

“I could ask you the same question,” You roll your eyes at him, taking a seat.

“I’m enjoying the night.”

“Yeah because you enjoy oh-so much.”

“Well, aren’t you just a little bundle of sunshine tonight.” He says, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Despite his lingering words, he scoots closer to you. “What can I say?” You shrug, leaning into his body in an attempt to conserve some warmth. The chill is beginning to seep through the blanket, and you understand why Matt was shivering earlier.

“It’s not every day you get to freeze to death with a stinky guy.” You tease, chuckling at his bemused expression.

“Hey! Where did that come from?” Matt yawns, leaning his head on your shoulder. His teeth are still chattering, cold nipping at both of your covered skin.

“If you’re so cold, why don’t you go inside?”

“Why don’t you?”

“Who said I was that cold?” He lifts his head from your shoulder, giving you a knowing glance. Your body is shaking too. “Okay, maybe I am a little cold.” You say, trying to remain a facade of indifference despite the chill.

“What are you doing out here anyway?”

“I told you, I’m enjoying the night.”

“None of that bullshit Matt, what’s going on?”

“You first, what’s running through that pretty little head of yours?” He says, pulling the blanket up to his chin and snuggling up more.

“I asked first.”

“I asked second,” Matt softly murmurs, giving you a challenging look. “Guess neither of us are getting answers.”

You sigh at his difficulty, leaning into him even more. Huddling together is doing wonders for your collective warmth. You feel like penguins, getting so close together.

“I’ve just been… thinking.”

“Wow, that’s a first.” He grins. You maneuver to punch his arm.

“Hey, it happens! Occasionally…” You whisper the last part, shaking your head at his antics. “But seriously, just needed some fresh air and quiet. You know how loud Chris plays his music at night. I thought the cold would help clear my head.”

“Has it?”

“What?”

“Has it cleared your head?”

You clear your throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know,”

“I would.”

“Well, I’d like to know why you’re out here.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He smiles, proud of himself for using your jokes against you. “Yes, actually. That’s why I asked. Now get on with it or I’m going to leave you to freeze by yourself.”

As they huddle together, the tension rises. Matt hums, seemingly trying to formulate sentences and get out what he wants to say.

“You know,” He starts, his tone edged with curiosity and a hint of frustration. “Sometimes I wonder what you’re hiding.”

“What I’m hiding?” You retort, laughing in his face. “Yeah, I’m the one doing a lot of hiding right now.” Your face stiffens under his gaze. You are hiding something, but right now, it seems like Matt is hiding more.

“Maybe not right now,” Matt counters, his voice softer, “But I’ve seen it before. You deflect.”

“Like you’re doing right now?”

“Touché.”

The accusation lingers in the air, making you feel slightly uncomfortable. Matt can tell, a mix of defense and vulnerability appear in your eyes; like you’re putting your guard up. Despite knowing he’s right, you feel like you’re being too exposed to him of all people. “You can't expect me to open up if you won’t do the same.” You say, turning away from him. You’re prepared to stand and leave, but you feel him grab you, weighing you down.

“I was thinking about you when I came down.” His gaze softens and his grip loosens, letting you know you’re free to go.

You don’t.

“You were thinking about me?” Matt lets out a puff of air, white coming out of his mouth because of the cold. His gaze remains steady, hesitation in his voice. “Yeah, I just… wanted to check on you.”

“Why?” You’re unable to hide the confusion you feel from his words, and as the admission sinks in, your chest feels a bit lighter.

“Because… I care about you,” He nervously smiles, voice barely above a whisper. His stare shifts, hopping from star to star. In that quiet moment, there’s a million thoughts running through your mind, the most prominent one being ‘I want to kiss him’.

For a brief moment, the world around you seems to fade away. The soft glow of the moonlight shines between you two, no sounds around able to take away from the ambience. Even though you’ve had this revelation, you don’t move.

“I care about you too, more than you know.”

“I might have an idea.” He replies softly, a gentle understanding written over his face. While he might have hesitated earlier, he refused to let this moment slip from his grasp. “Can I kiss you?” He’s mere centimeters from your face, breaths mingling in the nippy night air. Your chest tightens in anticipation as you lean even closer to him, whispering “Yes.” against his lips.

In quiet understanding, he leans forward. Refusing to take a peck, he deepens the kiss, effectively stealing your breath.

There’s almost a magnetic pull guiding you together, an almost imperceptible sensation courses through you. Matt refuses to let any of that slip away, so the second he can breathe again, he’s right back to kissing you.

The chilly air fades into insignificance. Matt is the only thing that matters right now.

“Can we go inside?” He mutters, shuddering. “Yeah it’s cold dumbass, why would you come outside in the first place?” You say, pressing another kiss to his lips.

“Why would you follow me?” He picks up the blanket, extending a hand to pull you up from the loveseat.

“I’d follow you anywhere.”

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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tadpolesonalgae · 6 months

Text

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You - Part 8

Pairing: Azriel x third-oldest-Archeron-sister!Reader

A/N: Writing Nesta post-acosf is so confusing so I apologise if she’s a little ooc!

Word Count: 5,552

-Part 7- -🌌🌠- -Part 9-

It’s been while since you last ate with all of them.

Even so, the atmosphere is familiar. Jovial. Pleasant enough you can allow yourself to slip into spectation, vanishing in your mind’s eyes, becoming an observer without presence. Shadows flicker at the corner of your vision, and you’re brought back down to reality.

The restaurant lights are warm and yellowy, a magic barrier constructed at the room’s border to keep the temperature pleasantly mild, inky darkness swirling just beyond the threshold. Candles flicker, almost in time with his shadows. It’s hard to tell when natural darkness ends and his begins. But he doesn’t really like it when people stare at them, so you avert your eyes. Scratch the backs of your hands beneath the table, softened a little by cream.

By what you can only assume was a stroke of bad luck—or good, depending how you want to feel for the rest of the night—everyone had already settled into the dinner by the time you arrived, leaving a single seat open. Yes, you could’ve pulled over a chair, or requested one to be magically summoned, but that would be drawing attention to the issue, which would undoubtedly make the ineffable off-ness of your relationship with him that much more blatant.

So there he is, a steady presence to your left, situated at one end of the table. Elain to your right. How unfortunate. Or lucky, depending on the angle.

Take a sip of your water, unsticking your tongue from the roof of your mouth. Lean slightly over to your sister. “Have I missed anything?” Cocoa flick to you, warm and soft in the mellow light, a little tired. Half-circles beneath her eyes. “Nothing much. I was planning on visiting Lucien again—hopefully within the week.” She answers mildly, a faint smile in her eyes. “There’s also a possibility of Nesta going over to have a look at the libraries in the Day Court.”

“Woah,” you mumble. “Looking for anything in particular, or simply for recreation?”

Elain shrugs, eyes flicking across the table. “Ask her,” she says simply.

Spine stiffens.

With fae hearing, plus the close proximity, there’s a high chance everyone heard that exchange. Refusing to do so will only draw more attention. You shoot Elain a reproachful look for putting you in this situation but she smiles encouragingly.

You find the elegant shape of your eldest sister a little further down the table—across and two over. Opposite Cassian who is beside Elain. Sharp eyes flit to your own a second after you’ve sought her out—she definitely heard. At least you didn’t vocalise any dismay over the forced interaction.

“Day Court?” You inquire, raising your brows in interest. She nods, lips parting in a smile, “quite the trip, isn’t it.” You laugh—trying to remember where the Day Court is in conjunction with Night. Come up short. “Already read through all the books here?” You reply, trying to keep the conversation fluid. Gaze absently flicks over the various plates and trays of food, picking out the things you’d like to try. A waft of something delicious floats down the table—a covered bowl sits between Rhys and Feyre. Soup, most likely. It has your mouth watering from the scent alone. Would be divine with some buttered bread.

“Nowhere near,” she responds, still smiling. “But there’s a particular author we’re after, and I’d like to see if I can find more of his books in those libraries.” You hum, nodding your head in acknowledgement. “Different from The Runaway?” She blinks, then nods, “you’ve read it already?”

“Yeah. Finished it last week,” you answer, peering at the dishes closer to you, wonder what you can pick. It’s mostly meat. Some roast potatoes, poultry next along covered in an orange-red sauce that smells spicy.

“What did you think?” She asks, carefully ladling gravy to the edge of her own plate. It’s your turn to blink, recalling the story to the forefront of your mind. Exhale heavily, leaning back into the chair. “I don’t know, really,” you admit honestly, “there was a lot in it, I suppose. I’m still digesting it, in a way. Do you know what I mean?” She nods, eyes softening at the edges—you’ve said the right thing. “I think there’s a lot in it; a lot happened to him, and I think it did a good job on highlighting how perspective can be manipulated. I also like how the creature was only alluded to in earlier chapters while the first part of the plot was unfolding so you end up overlooking it?”

She gracefully cuts through a potato, dipping it in the gravy before neatly depositing it in her mouth. Elegant and refined. “Yes, I thought that was an interesting way of telling his story. The complications between Yvette and Hans helped with the initial distraction, I think.” Lips twists into a slight frown. “The section—I think around chapter seventeen? Eighteen…?” You pause, picturing how far through the book it was, then shake your head. “Around there, anyway. The section about those lights in the sky?— I had to put the book down for a bit.” You admit, smiling as you recall the passage.

Nesta nods her head. “I couldn’t believe it, either. I think I actually had to stand up and get myself another cup of tea to calm down when he connected the dots.” A grin parts your lips wider, skin warming at the memory. “Anyway,” you say, redirecting the conversation, “a different author.”

She nods in confirmation, “a different author.”

“Romance?” You ask, remembering her appreciation for the genre.

Something passes through the room, hairs slowly raising at the back of your neck. Eyes slide to Elain, but she’s conversing with Cassian, attention shifted away from you. Gaze flicks back to Nesta who has a tight smile on her lips—it’s still odd to see her smiling so openly and frequently.

“No, actually,” she begins slowly, cutlery lowering to her plate. Her fingers remain pressed tight to the metal. “It’s a spell-book,” she says, silvery-blue eyes gleaming like moonlight despite the warm glow about the private space. Brow furrows a little as you peer at her across the table, “a spell-book?” You ask. “What do you need a spell-book for?” Her spine straightens, attention moving to her meal as she slices into some meat, mouth opening to continue.

“The baby warrior’s been having doubts about his wingspan, I’ll bet,” Amren croons from across the table, snatching your attention. Your brow dips further, eyes now shifting to find Cassian further down the table—the other side of Elain. He seems fine, laughing brightly. “Is there a problem with them?” You ask Nesta, remembering how torn up they’d been after the mess with Hybern and the cauldron.

She shakes her head, lips lifting into a grin as she meets Amren’s steel-coloured eyes. “She’s just jealous,” Nesta returns, “Varian not treating you well?” Sharp eyes flash with challenge. “Maybe they should compare notes. I’m sure your mate could learn a thing or two,” she taunts, effectively ending your conversation with Nesta. A part of you wants to learn more—your natural inclination—but Amren’s whisked her away into conversation, Mor stuck between them.

Attention again flits to Elain, but she’s still contained in conversation with Cassian, leaving only the keen pair of eyes on your left to entertain yourself with. Raise the glass to your lips, forcing down a mouthful of the alcohol, ignoring the light pulsing in the forefront of your head. Skin prickles beneath his attention, fingers shifting over your cutlery as you move to take food to your plate.

It seems rude to interrupt Elain’s conversation—you always go to her first. She speaks to people other than you, and probably enjoys doing so. You should leave her to enjoy the night. Take another drink of the clear liquid, shadows flickering in your peripherals as you set your sights on Nesta. Wait for an opening.

“What do you want the spell-book for?” You ask, feigning ignorance to their conversation. As if the question just appeared on your tongue, falling out before you could stop it. Two sets of sharp eyes cut to you, a single set of caramel flicking to steel warily. “A containment spell,” Nesta answers, slicing up some vegetables on her plate. “To bind.”

Amren’s lip curls into a distinctly predatory grin, almost warning. “Needing to spice things up so early in your relationship?” She croons. “I would have given it at least another few months before you two were in need of a bonding activity.” A fourth pair of eyes joins the discussion though he’s still wrapped in his own exchange. The hazel to your left has probably been observing for some time, too.

Nesta offers the petite female a tight smile, equally warning. Mor claps her hands, hastily breaking up the exchange. “Will you pass that down? Cass, be a dear and— no, next to it— the other side—yes! Thank you!” You watch slightly enviously as she ladles soup into a bowl, taking a slice of fluffy bread and slathering butter over its surface. Trace the soup as it’s returned to its place at the far end of the table, between Rhys and Feyre, one seat down from Nesta and Cassian.

And just like that, dialogue ebbs and flows around, leaving you with no way in. You’re quite glad for the reprieve. These dinners generally leave you in need of a weeks sleep to recover, by which point the next one is already scheduled. Exhausting. You don’t know how they manage it. Attention is still weighing on you as you raise your cutlery, poised to begin slicing into the meat upon your plate.

Elain is still preoccupied—to your steadily growing dismay. Nesta and Amren are locked in a verbal sparring match, while Mor chimes in here and there, occasionally attempting to rope Cassian in, too. Just to stir things up. Shadows flicker in the background.

His attention is becoming difficult to ignore. Clear your throat softly, focusing on cutting through the meat, slicing it into bitesized chunks. “Is something the matter, Azriel?” Shift the cutlery in your hands, easing up the pressure on your knuckles from the effort of cutting. He watches silently, his own plate clean and empty.

“Not at all,” he replies quietly, voice unliltling and void of inflection. Your brow twitches toward the centre, neatly spearing a chunk of flesh. Swallow in preparation. “Nothing?” You question, equally softly, biting down on the dead animal. It comes apart easily on your tongue, softened in a skillet somewhere, bathed in oils and rosemary, sprinkled with salts and spices. Force yourself to chew and swallow. “Nothing,” he repeats back, hazel eyes resting on your jaw, flicking to meet your gaze.

Finish your mouthful, move to the next sliver. Spike it on your fork. Half raise it from the plate then stop, lowering it quietly. “What are you watching?” You ask, eyes flicking down to your plate, skipping away from his. “Many things,” he answers vaguely. Shadows flicker at his back, wreathing his wings, tucking behind them. “I’d rather not be part of those things,” you murmur, finally biting down on the tender flesh. Chew enough so it’s digestible, then swallow. Think about nice things, like the books at the house, golden eyes, and dried flowers. “You’re in public,” he replies, tone still without inflection. “That’s an impossible request.”

Three pieces left, and it’ll be done.

“You can look elsewhere instead of staring a hole in my head,” you murmur. “Maybe,” you add hastily, softening the sharp suggestion. These situations always put you a little on edge. So many people.

He’s quiet for a bit, but his attention doesn’t shift, despite his gaze moving to be further down the table. You manage another chunk of meat, teeth dully masticating as you grind the flesh down, focusing on the herbs and spices in place of the ashen, earthy flavour of the animal carcass.

Azriel’s attention weighs into you, skin prickling, hairs raising at the back of your neck as you try to ignore it. It’s probably being exacerbated by your imagination. Raise the fifth and final piece to your mouth, thinking about rotating planets and cocoa, of whiskey and caramel as your teeth bite and chew absently. He’s still observing; you shift in your chair, swallowing the mouthful. Reach for your glass, gulp down the clear liquid.

Nearly choke, the alcohol burning your throat. Nose scrunches before you can help it, covering your mouth with the napkin while you cough as quietly as possible. Elain pats you on the back making you smile as you overcome the initial shock. “Something go down the wrong way?” She asks, lips curving in a grin she’s clearly attempting to suppress in favour of a more sympathetic expression. Puts those attempts to rest when you laugh quietly, nodding to the liquid. “Too eager,” you whisper, refolding the napkin. Elain covers her own mouth, shoulders shaking with muffled mirth; you shoot her a playful glare.

Mor, sitting opposite Elain; beside Nesta, breaks from her conversation with the two, attention flitting to you, as if she had been lying in wait for her chance. “So!” She says, golden hair shining resplendent beneath the glow, like a flame encased in honey. “When shall we go shopping?” Her hands clap together, red lips parting in a friendly smile.

Oh.

You’d blessedly forgotten that promise of hers.

Swallow uneasily. “It’s fine… The polish and lip tint were lovely,” you smile, hoping she’ll leave it be. “Nonsense,” she chirps, collecting a few more roast potatoes onto her plate, Amren gingerly taking a few after her, nose almost wrinkling with suspicion. “You love books, and I apparently need a reason to spend time with you, so a shopping trip is perfect!” You offer her what you hope is a steady smile, one that disguises the strain you’re feeling, “I don’t want to be a bother—it’s fine, really. There are plenty of books in the library, anyway, and I’ve barely made it through the first two levels.”

Brows shoot up to her hairline. “Every book? You’ve been reading all of them?” You blink at her surprise, then hesitantly dip your head. Anxiety bubbles in your stomach, hands gripping one another as tension slices through your shoulders. “Are they— Am I not supposed to?”

“Oh, no! Nothing like that. Read away!” She laughs, raising her hands in a calming gesture. “I hadn’t expected your interests to be so different, is all,” she smiles. “I tried to read a couple from the library when I was younger and nearly bored myself to tears.” You smile faintly, relaxing back into your chair. “I guess they’re not for everyone,” you reply, posture softening against the back of your seat.

Mor laughs, the sound like wind chimes caught on a stray breeze, golden hair glinting in the warm light. You have to look away. It feels wrong to even look at her—to try and place her individual beauties. Peer down at your empty plate, hunger gnawing at your stomach lining. You should have remembered to eat before coming along.

“So what about tomorrow?” She asks, dipping buttered bread into her bowl. Raise your head to look at her, confusion lining your brows. She smiles easily, “for a shopping trip, of course.”

“Not every creature enjoys being put through your endless chatter, Mor,” Amren snipes from her side. The blonde female pouts, throwing a glare to the petite Fae on her right.

Warm toffee eyes flick to cocoa, brightening with an idea, “Elain could come along too!” Spine goes rigid, every ounce of willpower straining to keep from glancing to your left, wondering what he’s thinking. Swallow heavily, stiffening as your older sister is brought into the discussion. Mor smiles eagerly, “what do you say, Elain? Fancy a shopping trip tomorrow?”

Nails slice into your palms, piercing small crescent shapes into your skin—you’ve been trying not to bite them. Press further back into your seat, muscles coiling with anxiety. Not both of them.

You can practically feel the moment steely silver eyes pick up on your reluctance, like she has a sixth sense for picking at scabs. But Elain sighs apologetically, “that would be lovely, but I’m afraid I’ll have to decline this time.” Relief washes over your skin, bathed in a cool breeze. “I told you so,” Amren snickers to the blonde female.

Mor’s brows dip together, “oh, piss off Amren. I know you like picking out clothes to wear for Varian with me.” The cunning female raises her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she replies smoothly, Mor’s lips twitching at the obvious denial.

Turn to Elain, taking in the natural glow of her features. “Have plans?” You ask quietly, hand absently resting over your stomach. Involuntarily glance at the soup further up the table, tongue flicking out over your lips. She shakes her head, softly curled silky hair cascading over her slim shoulders. In your peripherals, you can make out how shadows stretch across the table, reaching. “I’ve been dreadfully tired lately,” she admits, equally hushed.

Brow furrows in concern, about to ask further, but Mor’s on you again. “Guess it’ll just be us tomorrow!” She smiles genuinely, excited for the plans. When you glance sidelong at your sister, she’s already settled back into conversation with Cassian, your youngest sister and her mate joining in. You nod in surrender, accepting it’s something that has to happen. It would be overtly rude to decline her invitation now.

“Great! We can squeeze in a lunch, too,” she grins, washing down the soup with a glassful of wine. “Maybe you can direct me to some of the more interesting library books,” she suggests, eyes sparking with excitement. You nod again, fatigue beginning to weigh on your shoulders. It’s nice watching them, but you frequently forget how draining it is to be involved.

Lean back into your chair, pulling your stomach in as you feel pressure grow—you’d die of embarrassment if it started growling. Hastily drink some more in attempts to fill it up. Hungrily eye the plates of food. Maybe the poultry wouldn’t be too bad with the sauce—chicken was hard to come by all those years ago.

A delicious scent catches your attention, shadows skittering away as he silently ladles soup into his bowl. Nobody asks about the shuffling round of plates. Stomach rumbles and you flush, hands clamping over your stomach as humiliation burns along your skin. Mouth almost watering, but you force yourself to wait; appear only mildly interested in the food. An appropriate amount of attention for a dinner.

His hand knocks into the bowl, pushing it aside to make room for another dish, so it’s to his right. Almost subtle enough to appear accidental.

Still, you finally help yourself to the soup, equal parts affection and shame weighing in your gut.

————

The night air is crisp and cool, soothing the warmth of your skin as you follow quietly a way behind the group.

Feyre and Rhys have already made their way home, not liking to spend too long away from Nyx, despite knowing he’s well cared for. There seems to be discussion ahead of taking things further for the night, perhaps more drinking.

After having left the restaurant, Nesta had sought you out. You’d been surprised to say the least—a little on edge—but it had been nothing to worry about. She’d merely extended an invitation for you to join her on their trip to the Day Court. Perhaps to seek out some books you’d been interested in, she’d suggested.

You’d politely declined.

Now you turn to Elain, the darkness bringing out the slight dip below her eyes. “You okay?” You ask, the chatter of the streets soothing background noise. Fading to a constant hum in the back of your mind, falling into the empty recesses. She nods, sighing heavily. “I’ve been having some trouble sleeping,” she replies quietly. “And, I’ve…” shakes her head. “Maybe I’m coming down with something,” she sighs again. “You always were more prone to sickness than the rest of us,” you reply, nudging her shoulder playfully.

She smiles gently, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Maybe I’ll come and cough on you so you get ill for once,” she grins.

Nose wrinkles as you smile, “gross.” She laughs at that, then the two of you fall quiet, walking together in companionable silence. Trudging your way back to the River House, keeping fairly close to the main group who are still deciding whether or not to turn in for the evening.

You know you’ll be heading back to the House of Wind for the night.

Curious to see if a response has been written.

————

The House is quiet. Halls empty and silent as you pad down the corridor to your room.

Maybe you should check with Nesta whether she wants you to move out of here—switch to the River House. Anxiety slices at your gut, fatigue weighing your eyelids at the thought. You’re sure she’ll say something if she wants you out. You aren’t keen to initiate conversation with her unless necessary.

When you enter your room, candles are already lit, courtesy of the House. A few clothes lay on the floor, but it’s mostly clear. Almost tidy.

Parchment rests across your desk, and you eagerly hurry over.

Nothing has been added.

Excitement dies away, scratching at the backs of your hands absently.

Wearily take a seat, playing with the pen between your fingers, chewing on your lower lip. Debating the merits of bothering him when he’s taken no interest in your last comment.

Toss the thoughts out your window, throwing all caution to the wind.

Long day?

Bite down on your tongue, pulling at the top most layer of skin until you bleed. Wait for the paper to disappear. Seconds tick by, counting as they drain away. Steadily turning into minutes. Lean your cheek on the table, slumping forward as boredom creeps in, the pendant clunking as it hits the wooden surface of the table.

Do you remember your twenty-first birthday?

You aren’t particularly sure where the question comes from. Maybe the still-boxed jigsaw puzzle sitting atop a dusty stack of books has something to do with it.

Paper vanishes, and you perk up, straightening in your chair, fingers flexing. Excitement stirring in your chest. Absently reach for a pot of cream, unscrewing the lid as you trace the desiccated skin of your knuckles. Slowly soothe it in, rub the dips between your fingers, pretending your hands are someone else’s.

Parchment reappears, having you eagerly lean forward.

No.

You scowl at the curt response, twiddling the pen in your hands.

Sour and miserable indeed. Were my earlier questions not interesting enough to deign a response?

Letter vanishes, your feet tapping against the floor, fidgeting with the writing instrument. Turn to the anthology as you usually end up doing while waiting for his reply. Flip to the page you’d bookmarked, removing the silver embossed fabric. Lips quirk when you spot the title: Explosions: Rapid Division.

Shift the book so it’s in the centre of your desk, reading the introductory passage, instinctively scanning the diagrams with intrigue. Paper reappears atop the pages.

You forget I am a high-ranking individual with a multitude of tasks to attend to. I don’t get to spend my days simply lying around to pester the only person who’ll give me a scrap of attention.

Cheeks heat with embarrassment, yet you find yourself smiling at the familiar sharpness of his tongue. Ease out a deep breath, relaxing into your chair, flicking the pen in your dry fingers before lowering it to the parchment.

I think if you truly felt pestered, you wouldn’t be responding at all. Feeling lonely over there, Eris?

The paper vanishes, and you treat yourself to an image of his brows narrowing, lip curling as ire blazes in caramel eyes. Mouth widens into a smile as your feet tip-tap on the floor-boards, absently dipping your finger tips into the pot of cream again, putting more over the roughness of your skin as you wait patiently.

Parchment reappears, heartbeat picking up with excitement.

And what about yourself? The hell-cat is leaving for quite a while, isn’t she?

Lips part on a sharp exhale, spine straightening as your eyes flick about the room anxiously. How does he know that? Should you tell someone? Brow narrows in concentration, mind scrambling to think up a response that won’t give anything away, without sounding so vague he knows you’re avoiding the question. Swallow heavily, rubbing in the last of the cream, reaching for your pen. Lower it to the desk, and falter. What do you say? Is feigning ignorance too obvious?

The letter vanishes before you’ve had a chance to even put a speck of ink upon it, and it dawns on you that the question was timed. Picture the way his lips part is a slow smile as he sees the blank paper.

Manipulative bastard.

I suppose she’ll be taking the brute with her, too?

Fingers tighten on the pen, teeth grinding. Is this why he warned you about Eris? Because of how quickly he can extract information through carefully assembling pieces? Jaw tenses, but more silence will be confirmation.

How do you know any of that?

Chew on your lower lip as you await his reply, heart pounding. Azriel would be furious. Swallow down the nausea, teeth sliding beneath your nails—toeing the line of biting down, but restraining yourself.

Really, how do you think Court politics works? Of course we keep tabs on one another. I’m sure your shadowsinger has plenty of spies littered throughout Prythian. Possibly further, too.

Blood ices, peering down at your necklace and the map contained within. Imagining how wide his net must be to thread throughout it all. How much work it must take to keep everything running. Ruthless discipline. How tiring it must be. The weight, the pressure to keep it all maintained.

Head beginnings swimming at the thought of it. Would you even be able to keep up with him?

Why are you telling me this?

The pen scratches over the parchment, struggling to keep lines clean through the slight tremor in your hands. You can’t even begin to comprehend how much work must regularly go into sustaining such a network.

It’s a little embarrassing that you don’t already know. What are they teaching you over there? How to be an emotional burden?

The words hit sharp in your chest, hooks latching into the soft, vascular muscle of your heart. Poised to shred in an instant. Awaiting for the split second of weakness to rip. Rupture the organ in a clean tear.

Fear spikes.

I understand why your brother wants nothing to do with you if that’s how you speak with people.

The words are stamped into the page before you have time to reason it out. Blood rushes round your ears, wincing as your fingertips burn with the faint embers of power that have begun sparking up every now and again. Preemptively reach for the hand cream, preparing to soothe the itch once it fully manifests.

He’ll read into that comment. You know he will. Read between the lines to figure out just how much that one stung.

Parchment reappears and you warily lean forward, eyes skimming the clean script.

I’d been wondering where you kept your lovely claws, cygnet.

I didn’t mean to write that.

Wipe hands on your skirts, anxiety kicking up in the pit of your stomach. Roiling with worry.

You knew perfectly well what you were doing. You simply despise the way you are.

Has anyone else commented on how similar you are to Nesta Archeron?

Heart sinks to your stomach, biting on your tongue until you taste copper. Dislike how deep he’s wormed his way already. How did things go from light-hearted sparring matches to full scale battle in so few conversations?

And what about you? You write, mimicking his earlier diversion. Do your brothers share your affinity for poisoned words?

The parchment vanishes for a while this time, though you don’t even try to distract yourself with the anthology. Leg taps anxiously, trying to rub cream into your hands, hoping if it’s done tonight, they won’t ache tomorrow. The last thing you need right now is another flare up. Try to focus on the scent—light and sweet. Like gardenias and sugar.

Your attempts to redirect are as graceful as the first steps of a freshly birthed hound. Perhaps once you settle into your skin you’ll become more skilled at deflecting uncomfortable topics.

Skin prickles, hairs standing on end as you again raise the pen in hand. Considering routes to return to earlier discussions that weren’t so intrusive.

Alternatively, you could choose lighter conversation starters. For example, why did you send the anthology?

Certainly not the most succinct switch in direction, but better than continuing down that path. Ease a breath into your lungs once the paper vanishes, reminding yourself you don’t have to reply to him. At any point, you’re free to leave. Lean back in your chair, stretching out your limbs, muscles spasming and aching in your shoulders, fingers trembling as bones click in your spine. Deflate into the seat, muscles relaxing all at once.

You haven’t noticed anything yet?

Brows furrow, peering at the volume. Close it and flip it over—nothing on the back. Reopen it to the contents page, peering at the compilation of titles, authors, and page numbers. Scan the introductory section again, searching for anything to give you a hint at what he’s talking about.

(Writing about.)

I’m mildly concerned to ask? You write, keeping the conversation light, steering away from the earlier topics. Hoping he’ll keep away from family-related chatter.

Then read away.

Heart spikes at the ominous reply. What the hell is he talking about?

Eris, are you serious?

Paper vanishes, reappearing moments later.

Nothing but.

Roll your eyes at the response, but again set pen to paper.

If you were a human, you’d be riddled in various worry-marks by now. Does that thought upset you?

Lips quirk faintly, hoping it irritates him sufficiently.

Is this how you cope with discomfort? Pretending it away? Making light of it?

Damn him.

Instead of…?

Instead of hiding like a coward. Your blithe little act is growing dreadfully monotonous.

Straighten in your chair, shifting uncomfortably. Are you boring? Is that it? Is that the whole reason he…

Do fae have milestone dates like humans do? You said you don’t remember your twenty-first.

Paper disappears, and you become aware of the tension coiling in your shoulders. Maybe you should turn in for the night. Writing to him is supposed to be fun, not make you feel so…

Squirm uncomfortably, slouching in the seat. Crick your neck, releasing built up pressure, stretching your toes. Move to blow out the candles, but the letter reappears.

You really are turning out to be quite dull.

Brows scrunch with hurt, then even out. It’s ridiculous to be upset over behaviour he’s made no effort to hide. You shouldn’t be surprised he’s not changing, yet you had hoped…

Swallow, then sigh, the pen feeling heavy in your hand.

And you’re unnecessarily barbed.

(Who taught you to be that way, Eris?)

(Am I going to grow up to be like you?)

Paper vanishes, but you find yourself awaiting a reply. Marinating in your room while your lids grow heavier, shoulders slumping with fatigue, the base of your spine beginning to ache.

Stand from your desk, eyes flicking unwillingly to your nightstand, a small, royal blue gift box sat neatly atop it. The tule bow as resplendent as ever—shifting between vivid purples, reds, and pinks. Azriel’s gift.

(Sometimes, when it gets particularly bad, I like to look at it before I go to sleep. Fantasise about being the female he likes, instead of the one I am.)

(Sometimes, when I want to indulge in misery, I like to imagine dressing up for him. Imagine him telling me how pretty I am, imagine him sliding the golden hooks into pointed ears.)

(Sometimes I imagine.)

(Sometimes I imagine, because it’s the closest to reality I’ll ever get.)

Hear the distinct sound of paper on the table, and you still. End up turning anyway. Move over to your desk, reading the message.

You can do better.

Write again when you’re ready to show your claws.

Slump into the seat, head tipping back, staring up at the ceiling. Arms fall dully to your sides, too tired to feel anything.

Sigh heavily, forcing yourself to stand in favour of pulling away your clothes. Rid yourself of every constraint, pendant clunking on the bedside table.

The same-old, off-white cotton night gown swallows you, falling to your ankles as you settle into the mattress.

And to think, you’d been considering asking what things were like in his court.

How nice it might have been to make a trip of your own.

General Taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @amygdtjhddzvb @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks

Az Taglist: @azrielshadows1nger @jurdanpotter @positivewitch

CBMTHY Taglist: @impossibelle @naturakaashi @sakurafrost3-blog @ficienjoyedrbspot @azriels-shadowsinger @marina468 @misstea12 @going-through-shit @fussel9913 @minakay @i-am-infinite @wannabewolf @thegirlintheshadows101 @kennedy-brooke @esposadomd @horneybeach1 @jeannineee @harrystylesfan2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @abysshaven @starlight-hope @stupidwingboy @nastynesta @luvmoo @furiousbooklover @kuraikei @kemillyfreitas @chasing-autumns-chill @marvelpotter @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nightcourt-daydreaming @vanderlinde @fall-myriad

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x yn #azriel angst #azriel acotar #CBMTHY #azriel x reader angst #CBMTHY Chapter 8

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nyrandrea · 7 months

Note

hiii I’d like to request (again if that’s ok, it’s me the one who asked for the injured ) but if so then may I ask for this time so what if everyone’s at camp all asleep when a few people sneak in and kidnap reader but Astarion wakes up hearing something wasn’t right seein what’s going on watches as reader disappears then ofc hunting them down to see them being used in an ritual all tied up and weak dndeueududid ( sorry it’s like 1:18am I’m laid awake thinking about random things 💀 )

Helloooo again! I enjoyed your last request and certainly had fun with this one too so thanks again! (1:18am is the best time for random thoughts :D )

Warnings for canon typical violence, kidnapping, rituals (kinda), blood and swears

Word Count - 2.9k

Enjoy!

xxx

Under the silvery embrace of the crescent moon, nestled within the heart of a tranquil forest, you and your companions had surrendered to the gentle clutches of slumber, a collective of soft snoring weaving its way through the rustling leaves and whispering trees.

A clearing in the woods served as your base for the night after a long, grueling day of travelling. The grass beneath you was like a plush carpet, and a delicate blanket of dew kissed the blades, glistening like diamonds. The air was crisp, yet tender, cradling you in its nocturnal embrace.

Your team had all gathered in a sort of semi-circle, heads pillowed upon hands or nestled into makeshift cushions fashioned from backpacks and rolled-up cloaks. You weren’t sure how or when, but throughout your sleep you had unconsciously rolled over and inched yourself closer to where Astarion lay, his delicious scent drawing you in.

One could observe the group and note the serene expressions etched upon their faces. They appeared as though they were sculpted by dreams, their features softened by the embrace of rest. Your eyes fluttered beneath closed lids as you chased the remnants of recent adventures.

Unfortunately for you, you were being observed.

You flinched as the corner of your vision registered a goblin kneeling beside you, the tip of his dagger against your throat before you could even scramble for your own weapon.

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you," he purrs, smiling smugly down at you. “Not if you want your friends to keep their innards intact.”

Your eyes widen and dart over to where the rest of the group lay, completely oblivious to the goblins that threatened their very lives. You were even surprised to see Astarion still in a deep trance of meditation; he was usually so much more alert at night.

“What do you want?” you whisper.

“For you to come with us, true soul,” the goblin answered. “We are in desperate need of your... assistance.”

‘Great,’ you thought. ‘Just what I need, more Absolute nutjobs.’

“Look, I don’t think I can help you.”

“Oh, but you are the only one who can,” he retorts, slowly pulling the knife away from your throat. “It’s our leader, you see. She is gravely ill and only a true soul like yourself can cure her.”

Your face scrunches up in disbelief. “If she’s ill, then it’s a healer you need, not me.”

The goblin frowns. “It’s you she needs, she said so herself.” His blade edges closer to you once again, signaling for you to get up. “Now, if you’ll be so kind as to come with us. Or am I going to have to resort to a bit of… persuasion?”

He exchanges a glance with one of his men, who seemed all too giddy to slash Astarion’s neck.

“No…!” You almost shout but restrain yourself so as to not alert the others and incur a massacre. “I-I’ll come with you, just... leave them be.”

The goblin grinned up at you, and you had to force down the bile that was rising in your throat.

“Now that’s what I like to hear,” he crooned, gesturing for you to follow.

You hesitate for a moment, your gaze darting between your weapon and the goblin, his eyes are trained on you, almost as if he was daring you to try. Ultimately, you were outnumbered, and they held the element of surprise over your companions. No matter which way you tried to cut it, there were going to be casualties if you didn’t do what you were told.

So, you begrudgingly allowed yourself to be led into whatever hellish fate this cult of the Absolute had in store for you. A plan of escape would have to come later, when you were far enough away from your friends.

Unbeknownst to you, one of them was already on your trail.

xxx

Amidst the shroud of night, when the moon hid its luminous face behind a thick blanket of heavy clouds, you and your merry little band of kidnappers ventured into a meadow cloaked in long, swaying grass. The air had an eerie stillness about it, broken only by the distant whispers of nocturnal creatures.

As you traversed the meadow, moving with cautious steps, your feet sinking into the cool earth with each stride, you silently weighed up your options. The grass was like a sea of shadows, their whispers brushing against your legs like ghostly fingers; it would be so easy just to blend in and disappear.

You would have considered it, if it were not for the worgs.

The air was imbued with the scent of dew-drenched grass, but those beasts would still be able to track you down within seconds. Only... there were most certainly four of them the last time you checked. But looking around now, you only noticed two.

It appeared the goblins had noticed too; their hushed conversations were like faint echoes in the vast expanse, mixing with the symphony of crickets and the occasional haunting call of a night owl. You couldn’t make out a damn word they were saying, but they looked nervous.

“It would seem that we have a stalker in our midst,” the leader of the group growled, holding up a hand for everyone to come to a halt before he grabbed your wrist, forcing you down to his level. “Sod it, change of plan. You’re with me,” he commanded one of his men before turning to the rest. “You lot deal with the bastard while we take our friend here back to base.”

“Hey!” You grabbed his wrist and tried to wrench yourself free. “Let go!”

“With pleasure,” he grinned as he simultaneously released his grip and struck the back of your head with a blunt weapon, rendering you unconscious just as the ambusher seized the opportune moment. With lightning speed and calculated precision, he pounced from the grass, launching himself like a shadowy wraith. Long grass bent and swirled in his wake, mimicking the dance of phantoms.

In that fleeting moment, you caught the glint of a blade unsheathed, reflecting a cold, silver streak in the night. Chaos ensued, and the long grass became a battleground, hiding the combatants in its tangled embrace.

The clash of steel rang through the night, intermingling with the desperate cries of your name as you slipped away into darkness.

The ambusher moved with ruthless determination; his scarlet eyes ablaze with a wild, unholy fervor. In the end, silence fell upon the meadow, broken only by the ragged breaths of the victorious, standing amidst the long grass, a solitary figure bathed in the haunting glow of the moon, his cloak billowing like a specter as he followed the trail of broken grass the other goblins had made as they carried your prone form away.

xxx

The first thing you could feel was a pounding in your head. You try to sit up, to pull your knees up so you can curl up and settle the turning in your stomach. Slowly, your eyes opened as your breath sped up.

You were lying on the dirty floor in the middle of some sort of temple, hardly able to move due to your wrists and ankles being bound by chains. You struggle to draw in shallow gasps as you blinked through the blurriness of tears that clung to your eyelashes.

“What?” you whisper to yourself, wiggling to try and find an opening in the chains, trying not to hyperventilate as the bindings dug painfully into your skin the more you tried to move.

You bite your lip as your mind races with ideas to escape, to get away from this place, to kill these people for having the audacity to kidnap you, to threaten your friends.

Different scenarios play out repeatedly in your head, but the reality was that you were powerless to do anything.

“Comfortable, are we?”

A goblin slinked her way over to you from the shadows, she was unlike the crude and menacing stereotypes that often plagued her kind. She possessed an eerie, captivating beauty and moved with an uncanny grace; as sinuous as a serpent. Her skin, the color of moss, bore intricate tattoos that seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy.

Your skin tingled, hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as the goblin prowled behind your back to watch over your shoulder, her warm breath brushing behind your ear.

“I do hope so - it is truly an unimaginable honor to have a true soul like yourself amongst us, especially one with such... soft, tender flesh.”

A soft whimper pressed from your throat as warm hands slithered over your shoulders, kneading gently into tensed muscles. It sent a shudder down your spine, pressing your entire body in on itself.

“No need to be so coy, dear,” she said. “We’ll be getting to know one another, after all. For what is to come.”

Your lips pressed tight together as you swallowed down a knot in your throat, but your chin was forced up so that your eyes locked with hers. The symbol of the Absolute flashed on her face like a dazzling light, but no matter how much the tadpole wriggled and pulsed inside your head, nothing was happening.

You held no authority here.

“Those little mind tricks won’t work with me,” she sneered, pointing a clawed finger to her temple. “For I too, am a true soul. In fact, I am the one and only true soul!”

“W-w-what do you mea-?”

You were silenced with a hard slap.

“You may not speak in my presence, worm,” the goblin growled. “Speaking of, I’ve got so many of the little buggers up there, I may as well be as powerful as the Absolute themselves!” She barked a laugh and grinned maniacally down at you. “And your parasite will make a fine addition to my collection.”

‘Gods, this bitch is fucking crazy,’ you thought, but your mind immediately seized up and burned as she pried her way into it, and she was not too happy with your choice of words.

“You haven’t even seen crazy yet,” she growled as she traced a claw down the side of your face, drawing a thin line of blood. “I think I’ll pry your worm out myself with my bare hands and make you watch as I consume it before we gut you and roast you on the spit with the rest of the pigs.”

Strong hands took hold of your arms and legs and dragged you onto a slab of stone that had markings etched along the edges. You could just make out they were in Infernal—akin to the ones on Astarion’s back—but like his, you couldn’t decipher their meaning.

You kicked, flailed and screamed in desperation, but you were soon silenced by the goblin as she wrapped her hands around your throat while the others formed a circle around you and started muttering some sort of ritualistic prayer.

Your senses were dulling further by the second and a part of you wanted to give in to the pain, to just let yourself black out and fade away, but something within you pulsated with the will to live. To fight to your very last breath. Was this the parasite’s doing? Or was it something else?

“Just give in to the Absolute, dear, "the goblin said, her tone almost sickeningly gentle. “You’ll be all the better for it.”

“F...f...”

“Aw, your last, dying words,” she purrs, leaning in closer to listen. “I will permit it.”

“...Fuck you,” you spat.

The goblin’s smug expression warps into one of pure fury, and she bares her teeth at you as she grabs a hold of your face with one hand, using the other to slowly inch her claws towards your left eye. Her hiss garbles into a shrill wheeze as a dagger is plunged into her back and through her chest several times, relentlessly. A stray drop of blood trails down her mouth as she screams silently before she is rolled away from you, her body plopping onto the ground with an unceremonious thump.

You try to catch your breath, thanking whatever Gods were out there that they decided to spare you today.

“Don’t thank them, darling, thank me,” a familiar voice teased, though his shaking voice betrayed his light tone. “They would have done bugger all, anyway.”

A tiny, joyful laugh escapes from your raw throat as your eyes fall onto the welcome sight of Astarion, who seems just as relieved to see you.

“Are you alright?” he asks, quickly approaching with what appeared to be a pair of bolt cutters.

You nodded desperately, holding out your wrists.

Astarion took a moment to get the teeth of the bolt cutters properly in place where they wouldn’t bite through the skin but snapped them together fairly easily.

You shuddered a soft sob, relief dripping from your eyes as you rubbed at your wrists. Astarion didn’t wait for further instructions, you needed to move.

He knelt by your feet, slotting one link of the chain between the thick metal teeth, then braced one handle against his thigh. It bruised and dug into the flesh of his leg, but he didn’t stop.

The metal didn’t relent, but neither would he.

“Astarion-”

“Just... hold on, darling!” he says, pausing only briefly to give you a reassuring smile. “I’m no Lae’zel or Karlach; strength isn’t exactly my forte but I’ve... almost got it...!”

Teeth grit, fueled by fear and desperation, Astarion pulled harder and harder, feeling the bruise work against the bone and listening to his back crackle at the strain. He shifted, readjusting – maybe one half of the link would be enough? It was dented – that was a good sign.

You rested both hands on Astarion’s shoulders, steadying you both as he groaned under the effort. He jerked the handle to and fro, desperately trying to force the iron link to submit to iron teeth.

With one final effort, the metal finally crunched, and you were free.

Astarion’s arms encircled you with a strength that made you feel safe and cherished, while you nestled your head against his chest.

“You... how did you...?”

“I knew from the moment they took you,” Astarion said, smoothing down your arms, the motion was slow and helped calm you down a little. “I was, let’s say, aware of their presence in camp. But like you, I wanted to avoid a messy fight and so I tracked you down myself and... thank the gods I did.”

“Guess they helped out a little, after all,” you weakly joked.

“Oh shush,” he softly retorted. “It was fairly easy, what with that awful stench those creatures' reek of.”

“So, it was you... in the meadow.”

“It was,” he smiled, but it was tinged with bitterness. “I almost had you, if only I’d been quicker, or less sloppy, you wouldn’t have...”

His eyes, pools of worry and tenderness, never left your face. He reached out with a hand that trembled, his fingers brushing away strands of your disheveled hair. His touch was feather-light, as if he feared causing you any more discomfort.

With a voice softer than a whisper, he asked, “Did… did they…?” The words carried the weight of a thousand unspoken emotions.

“It’s okay,” you said, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I’m okay.”

He nodded, his lips curling into a tender smile as he leaned into your touch. Gently, he began to inspect your injuries. His fingers traced the contours of your throat, seeking out any sign of any permanent damage. With each touch, he was meticulous, ensuring that he didn’t aggravate the forming bruise.

"Does it hurt much?" he inquires softly, his expression unreadable, almost dazed.

You wince slightly but shake your head. "It's bearable.”

He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're so, so strong, my dear," he whispers, his words a soothing balm to your wounded soul.

His soft gaze hardens as he glares down at the goblins' bodies that littered the room. “Death is too good for them. I’m almost tempted to have them revived so I can make them suffer just a little longer.”

“How did you even manage to kill so many?” you ask, you knew he was a dab hand at killing but even he couldn’t take on a whole horde by himself.

“They were all so engrossed in their little ritual, they didn’t even see me coming,” Astarion said with a shrug. “That’s what you get for blind faith, I suppose.”

You wanted to laugh, but your throat hurt too much.

“Come on, darling,” Astarion gently looped your arm around his shoulder and guided you, going as slow as your aching legs would allow. “Let’s get you home.”

Your eyes met his in a gaze that transcended words, a silent conversation of empathy and understanding. In that moment, the world ceased to exist beyond the contours of your bodies, and the only reality was the sensation of skin against skin, the intoxicating scent of each other's presence, and the unspoken promise that he would never allow this to happen to you again.

xxx

Links to my other Astarion works

Everything's Fine

Restless

Request - Astarion kills everyone in his path to get to you

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #my writing #fanfiction #tw kidnapping #request

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jaywonjuice · 7 months

Text

📄🖇️ — reaction to you feeling insecure ~ p.sh

pairing bf!sunghoon x gn reader (feat. jay & a very drunk jake)

genre non idol au, angst (??), fluff, drabble

request: ✉️ “HIII can i request prompt 4 and 17 (w insecurity abt either their appearance/relationship/both..up to you!) with sunghoon pls??”; prompt #4 rough kisses; prompt #17 them reassuring you when you’re insecure.

warnings sfw intimacy, kissing, sexual innuendo, alcohol consumption

wc 713

it was saturday evening, and sunghoon was going out for drinks with jay and jake. as your boyfriend busied himself with getting ready, you watched from the bed, hugging a pillow tightly to your chest.

‘where are you going again?’ you asked him quietly.

‘oh, just the pub down on the corner as you turn left from the station, same as last time.’ sunghoon gave his reply as he ran his fingers through his dark hair, checking himself in the full length mirror. he straightened his jacket a little. ‘why d’you ask?’

‘those girls are going to be there again, aren’t they?’ you mumbled into your pillow, your mind wandering back to the last pub outing the boys had gone on the weekend prior.

jay and sunghoon had had to carry jake all the way back to yours after he’d had considerably too much to drink, and you had agreed to let him crash on the sofa. you’d been struggling to get what jake said that night out of your head all week.

‘you were definitely their favourite of the three of us ssunghoon,’ he’d grinned like a madman as his friends let him down onto the sofa. ‘ “oh sunghooon, hoonie darling, which one of us are you going to take home tonight?” ’ he crooned mockingly, slurring his words and making some rather inappropriate gestures with his hands.

‘he has a girlfriend, idiot,’ jay chided his drunken friend. ‘more than can be said for you.’ jake ignored him and said nothing, continuing to grin ear-to-ear sat slouched on the sofa, until he spotted you standing in the doorway, and leaned forwards to speak eagerly.

‘oh y/n! you know something, your man is very popular. it’s probably because he’s just “such a great kisser” apparently, you should keep an eye on him, becaus-’

jay shoved his friend down firmly by the shoulders, forcing him to lie down. ‘ok goodnight now jake, shut up til you’ve sobered up. you’re being a bad guest.’ jake giggled and mumbled incoherently into the sofa cushion.

sunghoon caught your eye as you left the room to see jay out. you hadn’t really been sure what the look in his eyes had meant. ‘i’m sorry’ ? if so, then sorry for what?

now, in the bedroom mirror, sunghoon caught your eye again, noticing you staring at him. he paused what he was doing momentarily. ‘yeah, maybe. maybe not. can’t say it makes much difference to me.’

‘did you kiss someone?’ you blurted out, much more abruptly than you’d meant to. ‘someone else, i mean.’

sunghoon stopped what he was doing completely and stared at you incredulously. ‘what? jesus no. you think i’d do that?’

you gave a small sigh. ‘no, i- i’m sorry.’ you bit your lip, fiddling with the edge of the pillowcase. ‘it’s just… i’m sorry but look at you hoon. you’re literally perfect. and i’m… gross.’ you kept your eyes glued on the pillow, not daring to meet his eyes.

sunghoon’s gaze softened, and he made his way over to you on the bed.

‘angel,’ he started gently, sitting down next to you. ‘you’re absolutely gorgeous. you’re perfect.’

you scoffed lightly. ‘not next to you.’

suddenly and without warning, sunghoon grabbed the pillow from you and tossed it aside, leaning right into you in its place. especially next to me, angel,’ he breathed.

you felt the hairs on the back of your neck raise at his closeness. his eyes flickered down to your lips and hovered there. ‘you always deserve to feel beautiful.’ with that his lips were crashing down onto yours. the force of the kiss knocked you back on the bed, so that now he was leaning down over you, the way he moved with you impassioned and urgent; verging on desperate. his hands found yours, and he interlaced your fingers.

when you pulled away finally, you were gasping in air. sunghoon lingered over you, his breaths ragged. ‘you’re unreal, love. i can’t believe i get to call you mine,’ he planted a kiss softly on the top of your head. ‘just promise me you’re not going to think like that from now on.’

your cheeks flushed and you nodded, giving him a small smile, and before you knew it his lips were on yours once more.

TAGLIST ೃ⁀➷ @thejakeslayla

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iwritefandomimagines · 1 month

Text

NOT A GAME — JESS MARIANO

based on a request

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: the playful banter was fun at first, but the line had blurred so long ago that you were starting to get sick of wondering how jess really felt. luckily for you, he’s been thinking the same thing.

warnings: angst into fluff, jess being annoying in a way that makes me love him more lol, swearing ofc,

author’s note: thank you so much for this request, i hope it does jess justice for you— i love writing him so much. i hope you enjoy — sorry it’s quite short i just wanted to keep it short n sweet

———

“Well that’s two hours of my life I’m never getting back, huh,” Jess took a final sip of the drink he’d been cradling for the whole film and threw it dramatically in the trash, his arm slung around your shoulder, “Think I aged like fifteen years in the time they took to wrap up that fuckin’ terrible plot.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling away from him and discarding your own empty cup as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and eyed you curiously, “What, don’t tell me you actually enjoyed that?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” you shrugged, “You’re just being pretentious.”

His brows furrowed at that — he hated when you of all people called him pretentious, and he knew you only ever did it to wind him up.

“Okay, what have I done?” Jess huffed, “You so didn’t enjoy that film, you’re just trying to piss me off. What did I do?”

You looked down at your feet with a grunt, “Nothing.”

“Despite my sweet baby face, I wasn’t born yesterday Y/N. It’s not nothing.”

The truth was that he had done something.

In fact, he was always doing the exact thing that had just tipped you over the edge.

“Fine, Jess,” you drew in a sharp breath, “I just— I don’t want to play this game anymore.”

“Have I missed something or was that movie just so dull that it corroded your brain?” Jess kicked a stone as he watched the frown on your face, “‘Cause I don’t remember playing any games. Not even footsie. What are you talking about?”

You scoffed, “That, Jess. Exactly that!”

“Woah, woah, c’mon Y/N. You’re going to have to give me more than just snapping at me. What the hell have I done?” Jess was growing increasingly frustrated now, but so were you.

You pressed a palm to your forehead, “I’m— What was that in there?”

“I was asking the same question,” Jess’ perplexed expression made your own angered one soften a little.

“What is this? Me and you?” you looked down at the floor as you posed this question, not wanting to argue any longer and too afraid wanting to see his reaction, “Because I’m sick of playing games and not knowing. You put your arm around me at the cinema, you share your popcorn with me when you’d like—literally snarl at anyone else if they asked, we kind of flirt like all of the time but we’re just friends.”

“Just friends, huh?”

You almost felt silly when you looked up at him and saw a smug smile on his face — almost.

But you were trying to open up to him and he was being just as irritating about your relationship as he always was.

“Jess…”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, taking your hand and pulling you around the corner to a park bench where he tugged you to sit down beside him.

“Do you seriously think we’re just friends, Y/N?” he was so close to you that you were sure he could hear your heart palpitations and see the goosebumps springing up on your skin.

“Well we’re not enemies, we spent a fuck ton of time together, and we’re not dating. So yeah, I’d like to think we’re friends,” you huffed, still avoiding his gaze.

He shook his head, “Why the hell do you think I invited you to see a fuckin’ romcom I’d never want to watch? Why do you think I asked to share popcorn? I know I’m the intellectually superior one here,” he paused to nudge your side as if to ensure you understood he was teasing, “But I didn’t think you were dumb enough to miss that I was obviously trying to make this a date.”

You bit your lip, finally returning his eye contact as his soft eyes stared intently into yours.

You drew in another deep breath, “Sure. Jess Mariano, Mr. Always Speaks His Mind, failed to tell me it was apparently a date so I’m dumb for not reading his mind?”

Neither of you had noticed that he was still holding your hand until that moment, and so he pulled it to the corner of his mouth and gave the back of your hand a gentle kiss.

Despite the unfamiliarity of this small but romantic gesture, your heart swelled in your chest and it almost felt natural.

“Y/N, I’ve liked you for fuckin’ ages. Everyone knows that. We flirt and we act like there’s nothing going on when people ask, but I thought at the very least you knew how I really felt,” Jess shrugged, not releasing your hand and instead now rubbing his thumb over the back of it.

You didn’t retreat from his touch, but used your interlocked hands to shove his chest gently, “You’re an asshole, you know that right?”

The small smile tugging at your lips eased the anxiety that had begun to set in. He’d almost started to fear that you didn’t actually feel the same, but your unsteady breathing and the glint in your eye confirmed the opposite.

“I know, I know,” he rolled his eyes, “But that’s all just part of the elusive charm that made you fall madly in love with me, isn’t it?”

You shook your head, “Cocky, aren’t you?”

“Well in my defence, the prettiest girl in Stars Hollow has, like, totally got the hots for me,” your heart fluttered at the smirk still gracing his features, “Hard not to have an ego.”

You just chuckled softly in reply, your heartbeat still racing as he watched you carefully. His own gaze softened now, and he reached his free hand up to cup your cheek.

“Look, in all seriousness I’m sorry this has been so— well, just that I haven’t been more direct about this stuff. But you know me, you know I’m bad at—,”

You squeezed the hand that was still in yours, “I know, Jess. It’s alright. I really like you, and to be honest I’ve been happy enough with any excuse to be close to you.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning forward a little, “Can I kiss you, then? Make up for a shitty first date?”

You blushed crimson at the fact he’d asked, your cheek growing hot beneath his touch, “Of course.”

His lips met yours gently, as though testing the waters. You met his kiss with the same softness at first, but quickly the kiss grew more urgent — as though making up for lost time.

When you finally pulled away, your face was still bright red, and you felt almost embarrassed by how overcome with emotions you were.

“So, uh, about the film?”

He laughed, the loud affectionate laugh he reserved only for you, warming your heart as he sent you a teasing grin and licked his lips.

“And here I was thinking I’d be the one to ruin the moment, huh?”

———

thanks sooo much for reading — i hope this was okay! sorry for the radio silence for a while, i’ve had a lot going on and a LOT of unfinished drafts.

if you wanna read more of my stuff — here’s my masterlist!

#jess mariano #jess mariano imagines #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x y/n #gilmore girls #gilmore girls imagine #gilmore girls imagines

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