#I have so many and they are NEVER seeing the light of day
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Reflections
Azriel x Fem! Reader
Request: hello, i’ve been thinking about slight angst to fluffy filth with azriel x reader, i have this idea where reader gets az off in front of a mirror while he says nice things about himself, bc we all know his self esteem is abominable. [...]
Summary: You notice Azriel isn't feeling well and want to show him just how much he is loved.
Word Count: 6.1K
Warnings: Smut, 18! +, Fluffy smut, Soft Azriel, gentle sex, mirror sex.
A/N: This is soooo cute!! I really wanted to make this fluffy. Azriel deserves so much love and I loved writing this. Also, a friend of mine gave me a really mean idea for a very angsty second part, but that would be utter heartbreak omg...
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Azriel moved through the day with a heavier shadow than usual, both literally and figuratively. His usual quiet demeanor had deepened into something more somber, his brooding silence punctuated only by the soft whispers of his shadows that clung close, mirroring his mood. It was one of those days when the weight of his duties hung heavily upon him, laden with guilt, self-doubt, and a gnawing anxiety that he might never truly be enough. His own insecurities clawed at him relentlessly, questioning his worth even as he worked tirelessly behind the scenes, unseen and often unappreciated.
You observed him with a careful eye, noting the subtle shift in his energy, the slight hesitation in his movements. Throughout the centuries of your friendship, which had seen countless shared secrets and moments of vulnerability, you had learned to read him like one of the many books lining the shelves of his dimly-lit office. You both danced around each other in a delicate ballet of unspoken words and intermittent closeness, occasionally succumbing to the gravitational pull of mutual desire that neither of you dared to fully acknowledge or define.
Recently, something had shifted. The air between you was charged, heavy with the things left unsaid, the feelings unexplored. Despite the deep bond you shared, Azriel had begun to pull away, cloaking himself in solitude and silence. His avoidance was a clear sign of his inner turmoil—a battle you knew all too well. He was adept at seeing the good in everyone else, lifting others with his quiet strength and perceptive insights, yet he was blind to the light within himself.
Determined to breach the distance he had imposed, you resolved to confront the barriers he had erected. Catching Azriel was never easy; he was as elusive as the shadows he commanded, adept at hiding his deepest fears and desires. But love, you had decided, was not a thing to be easily relinquished or left unspoken. It was a force as formidable as the magic Azriel wielded, and you were prepared to wield it with all the determination and tenderness it demanded.
You waited for him in his bedroom, adorned in one of your finest and sheerest black lace nightgowns, draped with a silk robe that whispered with every subtle movement. Positioned on the chaise in the corner of his spacious room, you gazed intently into the floor-length mirror adjacent to the door, reflecting not only your own anxious anticipation but also the room’s dark, elegant aesthetic.
As the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, the tension and expectancy built within you. The only sound was the quiet rustle of your gown and the distant, muffled noises of the House of Wind settling for the night.
Finally, the door creaked open, and Azriel stepped through. His arrival was signaled not by a flourish, but by a weary sigh, his silhouette framed momentarily in the doorway. His shoulders were slumped, bearing the invisible yet palpable weight of his duties and doubts.
As he entered, his familiar shadows danced around him, a dark entourage that seemed to pulse with a life of its own. Interestingly, the shadows flickered towards you briefly, acknowledging your presence as if in greeting. Yet, they maintained their silence, not alerting Azriel to your presence. It was as if they, too, conspired in your plan, understanding perhaps the necessity of this confrontation.
Azriel, oblivious to your presence and caught up in his own thoughts, moved slowly into the room. He loosened the clasps of his cloak and began to shed the layers of his formal attire, each movement heavy with exhaustion. It was only as he turned to hang his cloak in the wardrobe that he caught your reflection in the mirror. His movements halted abruptly; his eyes locked onto yours in the reflected image. A complex mixture of surprise, confusion, and a flicker of something deeper played across his features. For a moment, he simply stared, as if processing the sight and its implications.
“Why are you here?” His voice, though soft, carried the weight of his weary confusion and lingering shadows of his earlier brooding.
The room felt charged, the air thick with the unsaid, as you stood gracefully, letting the silk robe fall slightly to reveal more of the delicate lace clinging to your form. “I’m here for you, Azriel,” you said, your voice a gentle yet firm declaration. “I’ve seen how you’ve been carrying your burdens, and you don’t have to bear them alone. Not anymore.”
Your words hung in the air, a soft yet undeniable challenge to the walls he had built around himself. His initial shock gave way to a resigned vulnerability, the barriers beginning to falter under the weight of your sincerity and the palpable concern in your eyes.
Azriel’s gaze lingered on you for a long, silent moment, the battle within him almost visible. Then, slowly, the shadows around him seemed to retreat slightly, as if giving him the space to breathe, to decide. It was your turn to wait, the outcome of your bold move hanging delicately in the balance.
Your movements were smooth and deliberate, each step carrying the quiet confidence of someone who knows their power. As Azriel's gaze lingered on you in the mirror, the sheer lace of your nightgown played a tantalizing dance over your skin, hinting at the promises concealed beneath. When you let the silk robe slip from your shoulders, pooling silently at your feet, his reaction was instantaneous—a low grunt of undisguised desire and perhaps, a hint of conflict.
"You've been avoiding me," you murmured, your voice as soft and enticing as the silk that had just glided off your body. "I missed you, Azriel." The words were simple, but they carried the weight of your genuine concern and longing.
His jaw tensed, a slight narrowing of his eyes betraying his inner turmoil. Muscles tight, he took in the sight of you—each curve accentuated by the delicate lace, the soft lighting casting shadows that played over your form. Doubt flickered behind his gaze, a constant companion in his thoughts. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice rough with a mix of confusion and rising heat.
Smirking slightly, you stepped closer, each movement calculated to show your appreciation of his formidable presence. His impressive wings, the strong lines of his body—every inch of him spoke of a crafted perfection that took your breath away. But beyond the physical, you saw the soul of the man who had stood by you through centuries, his loyalty unwavering, his strength a beacon. Tonight, you were determined to show Azriel just how much he was loved and adored. He deserved to feel valued, not just by those around him but by himself. If he needed a reminder, you were more than ready to provide it, to break down the barriers he had erected around his heart.
Reaching him, you placed a hand lightly on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your palm. "Let me remind you," you said, standing on tiptoes to whisper directly into his ear, your breath a warm caress. "Let me show you how much you mean to me, to all of us. You are not alone, Azriel. You never have been." The intensity of your words seemed to pierce through his defenses. For a moment, he was still, the only movement the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Then, slowly, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close against him, his embrace a silent acceptance of your offer. His forehead rested against yours, a silent acknowledgment of the connection you shared.
"Mhm," you hum softly, letting one of your hands wander down his back, feeling the tense muscles beneath his shirt as your fingers explore the broad expanse of his shoulders, tracing his tattoos. The warmth of his skin radiated through the fabric, speaking of the battles he fought both outside and within himself. "I want to make you feel good," you whispered, a promise laden with devotion and want.
Azriel's response was almost imperceptible, a slight relaxation under your touch as he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability. His eyes remained closed, focusing intently on the sensation of your hand moving over him. The muscle in his jaw worked silently, a visible sign of the tension he carried. As your scent enveloped him—sweet notes of arousal mixed with the calming lavender of your soap—it threatened to undo the control he so rigidly held over himself. He suppressed a groan, the depth of his yearning surfacing despite his best efforts to maintain composure.
Your other hand gently traced the line of his jaw, feeling the tension there and willing it to ease. "Let go with me, Az," you coaxed, your voice low and soothing. "You don't have to be strong all the time. Not with me." Your words, heartfelt and sincere, aimed to penetrate the walls he built around his emotions, to reach the man who so rarely allowed himself the luxury of being cared for.
Slowly, Azriel opened his eyes, the usual guarded hazel depths now shimmering with a mix of emotions—conflict, desire, and a dawning realization that he could perhaps find solace in your arms. His hand reached up to cover yours, pressing it against his cheek, turning his face to plant a soft kiss in the palm of your hand. It was a small gesture, yet laden with significance, an acknowledgment of his trust and his willingness to lean on you, if only for the night.
You pull him into a kiss, one that starts soft and gentle but quickly escalates into something deeper, more meaningful. Your hand, not content with merely cupping his cheek, slides to the hem of his pants, palming his hardening length through the fabric. The moment he groans softly into the kiss, you seize the opportunity to deepen it, slipping your tongue into his mouth, fully asserting your presence.
The kiss turns heated in an instant. Azriel's hands wander to your waist, his touch sending shivers through your body as he feels your heated skin through the thin fabric of your nightgown. "Fuck," he grunts as the kiss breaks, his eyes roaming over you with newfound intensity. He takes in the sight of your nipples, visibly strained against the sheer lace. "You look..." he trails off, exhaling sharply, the raw desire evident in his gaze. "Absolutely breathtaking."
Encouraged by his reaction, you begin to undress him slowly, each movement deliberate and filled with intention. As you peel away his clothing, his heart hammers in his chest, the sensation distinctly different, more intimate than any encounter before. This wasn't just about physical need—it was about connection, about exposing not just bodies but also hidden depths of emotion.
His shirt falls away, and you take a moment to trace the lines of his well-defined chest, your fingers exploring each scar and muscle, a silent testament to his battles and burdens. Each touch seems to speak words you both had held back, acknowledging his vulnerabilities and strengths without needing to articulate them verbally.
As you kneel to undo his belt, your proximity to him intensifies the atmosphere. The sound of the buckle clinking softly as you open his pants is almost deafening in the quiet room. You glance up at him, finding his eyes locked on yours, a mixture of apprehension and longing swirling within.
With his pants finally loosened, you help him step out of them, leaving him as exposed as you are, both physically and emotionally. Standing back up, you press your body against his, feeling the heat radiating from him, the rapid rise and fall of his chest synchronizing with yours.
"Let me take care of you tonight," you whisper against his lips, a promise hanging between you, as heavy and tangible as the air itself. "Let me love you, Azriel." You guide Azriel to stand before the large mirror, positioning him so that he can see both himself and your reflection. Standing just behind him, you drape your arms over his broad shoulders, allowing your hands to roam freely across the hard planes of his chest. The room's temperature seems to climb with each deliberate caress, the air charged with an electric current of anticipation and desire.
Catching his gaze in the mirror, you let a slow, confident smirk play across your lips. "I want you to watch," you murmur, locking eyes with him through the reflection. Your voice is low, a sultry command that sends a thrill through him.
Your hands move with practiced ease, tracing down his abdomen, feeling the muscles tense under your touch. "Look at how strong you are, my love," you whisper, your voice a mix of admiration and desire.
You hold Azriel's gaze in the mirror, your eyes locking with his as you let your hand slide into the waistband of his underwear, feeling the soft, silky skin of his hard cock beneath your fingertips. Your touch elicits a shiver from him, his eyes fluttering shut as he leans into your embrace, his wings twitching with anticipation.
"I want you to repeat what I say," you murmur, your voice a seductive whisper as you continue to stroke him, your movements slow and deliberate. You feel the tension in his body, the way he strains against your touch, and you revel in the power you have over him in this moment.
"Say it," you command softly, your tone firm yet loving. "Repeat after me."
His breath comes out in shallow pants as he nods, his eyes still closed, lost in the sensations you're evoking in him. "I-I'll repeat," he manages to whisper, his voice husky.
You smile, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you guide him through the words, each one a testament to his worth and your desire for him. "I am worthy," you say, your voice steady and sure. "I am strong. I am loved."
Azriel's voice trembles slightly as he echoes your words, his own affirmation mingling with yours in the air between you. "I am worthy," he repeats, his voice growing stronger with each repetition. "I am strong. I am loved."
You feel a swell of pride and affection for him as he speaks, his words a declaration of self-worth and acceptance. But you're not done yet—you want him to know just how much he means to you, how deeply you desire him.
Leaning closer, you press a kiss to the shell of his ear, your lips brushing against his skin as you murmur words of adoration and desire. "You're so fucking sexy, Az," you breathe, your voice low and sultry. "Your body, your mind, your heart—I want all of you. I need all of you."
As you continue to stroke Azriel, you feel him twitch with each movement of your hand, a visceral response to your touch that drives you both further into the realm of lust. The air between you charges with electricity, every touch and whisper amplifying the tension that wraps around you like a tangible force.
"You are incredible," you breathe out, each word laden with desire as you maintain the rhythmic motion of your hand. "Feel every stroke, every touch. This is how much you affect me, how much you are wanted."
His back arches slightly as he presses into you, his breathing deepening. The heat from his body radiates, mingling with yours, creating an enveloping warmth that makes the air around you shimmer. "I love how you respond to me," you continue, your voice a seductive whisper that sends shivers down his spine. "Every shudder, every moan. You're so beautifully responsive."
Your words of praise and the relentless motion of your hand draw deep moans from him, each one escaping his lips like a confession. His hands find yours, his fingers intertwining with yours to increase the pressure, guiding you in the silent language of lovers intimately familiar with each other’s desires.
"Look at us," you command gently, nodding towards the mirror. His eyes open slowly, heavy with arousal, and meet yours in the reflection. The sight of yourselves, wrapped in such an intimate tableau, heightens the erotic charge of the moment. "See how perfect you look, giving in to pleasure. This is you—powerful yet so open and vulnerable with me."
You press your body closer against his, your chest flush against his back, letting him feel the full length of your body, the firmness of your breasts against him. "You are so strong, Azriel, but here with me, you don’t have to be. Just feel," you whisper, accentuating your words with a firmer stroke, pushing him closer to the edge.
You continue your tender assault, spreading kisses from his neck down his shoulder, each touch light and reverent. Azriel's breath comes in heavy pants, a sign of the deep pleasure coursing through him as your thumb grazes the throbbing, sensitive head of his cock, slick with arousal. The gentle yet deliberate movements of your hand contrast with the intensity of the moment, creating a stirring blend of tenderness and heat.
"You're doing so well," you murmur, peppering his skin with soft kisses that make him shiver under your touch. "Feel every sensation, let it wash over you. You deserve this pleasure," you continue, your words dripping with affirmation and encouragement.
As he tries to savor the moment, clinging to the waves of pleasure you elicit from him, you notice the overwhelmed look in his eyes—a mix of disbelief and ecstasy at the gentleness of the encounter. His usual demeanor of control and restraint is nowhere to be seen, replaced by raw, unguarded vulnerability in the reflection of the mirror.
"Keep going, Az," you whisper, your voice a sultry command that sends a shiver down his spine. "Tell yourself how good it feels, praise yourself like I praise you."
A flush of embarrassment mixed with arousal colors his cheeks, his gaze darkening further as he meets your eyes in the mirror. The intimacy of the moment, your hands skillfully wrapped around him, heightens the erotic charge between you. His voice, when it finally emerges, is husky and hesitant, but grows in confidence with each word. "It feels... incredible. I am... strong, and I am desired."
Hearing Azriel voice his own pleasure, a rare admission from him, something coils deep within your stomach, a mix of pride and further craving. His words, reflecting both the affirmations you've given and his own acceptance of them, deepen the connection, making this moment about more than physical pleasure—it's about emotional liberation and acceptance. "Look at how powerful you are, how much control you have over your own pleasure," you guide him, your voice both soothing and seductive.
Encouraged by your words, he begins to move his hips subtly, entering into a rhythm guided by the motions of your hand. His own words become more assured, his voice stronger. "I am powerful... I am worthy of this pleasure... I deserve this."
As he articulates his own worth, his climax builds, the tension in his body winding tighter. His breathing grows erratic, and you tighten your grip just slightly, increasing the pace, pushing him closer with a loving yet firm hand.
"Let go, Azriel," you coax as he teeters on the brink, your voice soft yet commanding. Azriel's grunt resonates with a newfound confidence, his instincts beginning to surface as he takes control. His hips snap forward decisively, rutting into your hand with a series of firm, deliberate thrusts. His gaze locks onto yours in the mirror—dark, intense, filled with a fiery desire that sends a thrill of anticipation coursing through you.
"What do you want, Azriel?" you ask, your voice a soft challenge, laced with curiosity and an undercurrent of your own need for him. The question seems to unleash something within him, a torrent of pent-up longing.
With a decisive movement, he gently removes your hand from his length, confusion flickering across your face. But before you can question his actions, he swiftly pulls you around to face him. The sudden shift in dynamics catches you off guard, and you find yourself staring up into his heated eyes, your back pressed against the cool surface of the mirror.
Azriel's hands find your waist, his grip firm but not constricting, as he leans in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I want you," he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. "I want to show you just how much I need you, how deep my desire runs."
He pauses, his eyes searching yours for a moment, gauging your reaction, before continuing with a more raw, almost primal tone. "I want to see you unravel beneath me, hear you moan my name as I take you, right here, right now."
His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation bubbling within you. The audacity of his words, the explicitness of his desires—it's intoxicating.
"I want to feel your body tremble as I fill you, to watch your face in the mirror as you come undone from my touch." His fingers trail up your side, light but purposeful, drawing a line of fire along your skin.
Before you can respond, he bends down, his lips finding yours in a kiss that seals his vow, a kiss so deep and consuming that it leaves you breathless. When he pulls back slightly, his gaze is unyielding, locked onto yours with an intensity that holds the world at bay.
"This is what I want," he declares, his voice a blend of raw need and absolute certainty. "Tell me you want it too."
Caught in the whirlwind of his passion, your own desires flare to life, matching his intensity. "Yes," you breathe out, the word a surrender to the storm, an acceptance of his claim over you. "Yes, I want it, Azriel."
Satisfied with your affirmation, he smiles, a predatory, triumphant curve of his lips that promises untold pleasures. The chill causes your nipples to harden immediately, a visible reaction that doesn't escape his intense gaze. His eyes, dark and predatory, drink in every inch of your revealed skin with undisguised hunger. His scarred hand ventures lower, tracing a bold path down your abdomen until it finds the heat between your legs. You gasp, a soft moan escaping your lips, as his fingers explore your wetness, a rough groan vibrating from his throat in response to your arousal.
"Azriel," you whimper, your voice laced with need and a faint protest, "this was supposed to be about you."
He looks up at you, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips. "Believe me," he responds, his voice low and husky, pressing his fingers more insistently against you, "making you feel good is very much in my best interest." His words are punctuated by a deliberate stroke that sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, making your knees buckle slightly.
He steadies you with a firm arm around your waist, his touch both possessive and protective. "Seeing you unravel, hearing you moan my name—it’s what I need right now," he continues, his tone both commanding and coaxing. Azriel gently turns you to face the mirror, pulling you back against his chest. The heat of his body envelops you, and you feel the firm pressure of his arousal against your lower back. Instinctively, one of your hands reaches back between your bodies, grasping him firmly, feeling his length and hardness, which elicits a soft groan from both of you.
His fingers continue their expert ministrations, circling, teasing, pushing you toward the edge with skilled precision.
The room seems to close in around you, the mirror reflecting your intertwined forms, a visual echo of the intense connection that sizzles between you. Every touch, every whisper, intensifies the electric charge in the air, pulling you deeper into the vortex of desire.
As Azriel's hand works its magic, you find yourself leaning back into his chest, seeking support as your body begins to tremble under the onslaught of pleasure. His other hand travels up to cup your breast, thumb flicking over your nipple in a rhythm that mirrors the actions of his fingers below.
"This is about us," Azriel murmurs into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "About me showing you how much you mean to me, how much I want you." Azriel’s touch becomes even more deliberate as he strokes your clit, his fingers tracing the contours of your slick folds before teasing at your entrance. All the while, he whispers sweet affirmations into your ear.
In the mirror, Azriel watches every reaction that flickers across your face—each flutter of your eyelids, every bite of your lip, the way your brows furrow slightly in concentration and pleasure. This visual feedback drives him, his actions tuned to elicit more of those beautiful responses.
"You always make me feel incredible, Azriel," you breathe out, meeting his gaze in the mirror. "No one else can make me feel like this."
His eyes, dark with his want and need, reflect a mix of pride and deep affection. "You’re mine," he affirms, the possessive words not a demand but a declaration. His fingers resume their motion, now with a renewed vigor, as if spurred on by your admissions.
You watch together in the mirror as his fingers delve deeper, exploring you, his other hand caressing your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between expert fingers. The dual sensations, coupled with the intensely erotic sight of your intertwined bodies reflected back at you, drive your arousal higher. "I want you to see how much you enjoy this, how you respond to
me," Azriel murmurs, his lips grazing the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to watch yourself come undone because of what I do to you." As the heat of your arousal intensifies, you find yourself overwhelmed by the need for more—for him. Your whispered disclosure sends a visible shudder through Azriel, and you feel his response in the twitch of his length in your grasp. His gaze softens, filled with a tumult of emotions that had shadowed him earlier, now mingling with the undeniable love and warmth radiating from your intertwined bodies.
"Earlier," he drawls, his voice thick with emotion as he thrusts one finger deep inside you, causing a sharp intake of breath. "You said you want all of me..." His words trail off as he watches your reaction, then, deliberately, he slides a second finger alongside the first, stretching and filling you, pausing to let each sensation sink in. "Not just my body, but my heart."
His fingers move rhythmically, pumping into your core as his body presses flush against yours, his breath warm against the skin of your neck. His lips gently flutter over your skin, each touch a whisper of affection and promise. "Tell me," he commands softly, his request hanging in the air, laden with deeper implications.
Meeting his gaze in the mirror, you breathe out your confession, each word laced with the depth of your feelings. "I love you, Azriel." The words hang between you, powerful and sincere. As his movements inside you pause, you continue, compelled to reassure him of his worth. "You deserve to be loved. I don't know anyone else who deserves it more than you do."
In that moment, something shifts in Azriel’s eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, a glint that might be the beginning of belief, something warm and soft. His fingers resume their motion, but now with a tenderness that mirrors the emotion swelling in the room. Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, only to replace them with the head of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. The anticipation makes your heart beat wildly, every nerve alight with the need for him.
"You deserve to be loved too," Azriel whispers back, his voice husky with emotion. "And I—I love you, more than I ever thought possible." With that confession, he pushes forward, entering you in one smooth, deliberate motion that makes you gasp both from the fullness and the profound significance of his words. As the intensity of your passion deepens, each thrust is imbued with a profound sense of connection, a merging of souls as much as bodies. Azriel's eyes, filled with a mixture of desire and adoration, remain locked on yours in the mirror, capturing every expression of pleasure that dances across your features.
You're bent forward slightly, your back arched, your body yielding to his as he continues to fill you with each delicious thrust. Wet sounds fill the air, mingling with heavy breathing and soft pleas as the rhythm of your lovemaking builds, each movement proof to the depth of your connection.
Unlike your previous encounters, which were fueled by hunger and passion, now it is suffused with something more profound—love. "My legs are about to give out," you whimper, feeling the strain of the pleasure coursing through your body.
Azriel responds by pulling you back against his chest, his hand firm yet gentle around your throat, guiding you to stand straight as he continues to grind his hips against yours. The sensation of his cock nestled deep inside you, combined with the warmth of his body pressed against yours, sends wave after wave of pleasure through you. With a soft smile and a lingering touch, he slowly withdraws from you, the air cool against your heated skin. Turning you to face him, his eyes brim with love—a look so intense, it feels as though it could completely engulf you. He seals his emotions with a kiss, tender and passionate, a perfect echo of the feelings swirling between you.
He guides you gently towards the bed, sinking back first onto the soft sheets. You climb over him, straddling his hips with graceful ease. Lowering yourself back down onto him, a mutual groan fills the space, the sensation overwhelming yet deeply right. The kiss never breaks, each movement of your lips in sync with the rolling motion of your hips.
His hands find your hips, gripping gently, guiding and meeting each movement with his own. Every thrust is a word unsaid, every connection a line in a poem of your intertwining lives. The way his body responds to yours, the way your heartbeats seem to synchronize with each thrust, it all culminates into an exquisite dance of love. As you continue to move rhythmically above him, Azriel's words flow like a soothing stream, each phrase dripping with affection and devotion, encouraging your every motion. "You're everything to me," he murmurs, his voice a gentle rumble that vibrates through your core. His hands are tender yet purposeful, one gliding to stroke your clit in slow, deliberate circles that send waves of pleasure crashing through you.
The intensity of his touch makes you gasp, your head tilting back as stars burst behind your closed eyelids. Feeling the shift, Azriel gently guides you back down, his body rising to meet yours. His lips find the delicate skin of your breasts, and his teeth graze lightly, careful not to hurt but enough to send a shiver down your spine. He marks you lovingly, each kiss and nibble a witness to his deep feelings, branding you as his in the most intimate of ways.
The room is filled with the sound of your combined sighs and the soft rustle of the sheets as you move together. Azriel's other hand anchors you, his fingers digging gently into your hips, guiding your movements to meet his upward thrusts. The dual stimulation of his fingers on your clit and his deep, steady strokes inside you draws you ever closer to the edge.
His eyes never leave your face, watching every flicker of pleasure, every shift of emotion as you ride the waves together. He sits up slightly, his arms wrapping around you to pull you closer, chest to chest, heart to heart. His breath is warm on your neck, his murmurs filled with words of love and future promises.
"Let go with me," he whispers, his voice husky with desire. "Let me feel you come undone."
Encouraged by his words and overwhelmed by the mounting pleasure, you surrender fully to the sensations. The world narrows down to the here and now, to the feel of Azriel beneath you, inside you, all around you. As you climax, your body tightens around him, a wave of euphoria washing over you in an intense, all-encompassing rush, crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Azriel follows shortly after, his own release spurred by the tightening grip of your body and the overwhelming sense of love.
In the aftermath, you collapse against him, both of you panting, sweat mingling, hearts beating in a synchronized rhythm of deep contentment. Azriel's arms hold you close, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
"We are made for each other," he breathes out, a smile in his voice, the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders. As you lie intertwined with Azriel, the tender strokes of his fingers drawing soft patterns on your back, a sense of tranquility envelops you, wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth and affection. The air is filled with a serene stillness, broken only by the steady rhythm of your breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.
You feel a surge of emotion welling up within you, a profound sense of gratitude for this man who holds you in his arms. With a soft smile playing on your lips, you nestle closer to him, your head resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. It's as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you in this bubble of love and warmth.
"Azriel," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "you deserve the world and more." Your words are imbued with sincerity, each syllable carrying the weight of your affection. "You've always been the one to give so much, to sacrifice without hesitation. And yet, you never ask for anything in return."
Tears well up in your eyes as you continue, overwhelmed by the depth of your feelings. "You're the most beautiful soul I've ever known, inside and out. And I... I love you more than words can express."
A soft gasp escapes your lips as you struggle to articulate the depth of your emotions, the magnitude of your love for him. "Sometimes," you admit, your voice barely a whisper, "it feels like the weight of the world is crushing down on me, suffocating me. But then... then you walk into the room, and suddenly, everything becomes clear. I can breathe again." Your confession hangs in the air, the silence punctuated only by the gentle rise and fall of your breaths.
As tears well up in Azriel's eyes, his gaze meets yours with a depth of emotion that takes your breath away. His brows furrow with the intensity of his feelings, and he pulls you closer to him, wrapping you in a tight embrace. With trembling hands, he gently lifts your chin, capturing your lips in a soul-crushing kiss.
In that moment, he pours every ounce of love and tenderness into the kiss, conveying with each touch the depth of his emotions. As you part, his chest heaves with emotion, and he gazes into your eyes with a vulnerability that renders you speechless.
"My love," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, "those words... they mean more to me than you could ever know." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch feather-light against your skin. "I never thought myself deserving of such affection," he confesses, his voice raw with honesty. "But you..”
He takes a deep breath, his gaze never wavering from yours. "With you by my side, I can finally sleep peacefully," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "For centuries, I wandered in darkness, haunted by my past. But with you, I've found solace, a sense of peace that I never thought possible."
You reach out, cupping his face in your hands, your thumbs gently wiping away the tears that still linger in his honey-colored eyes. "Az," you whisper, your voice filled with tenderness, "you deserve all the love in the world. You are worthy of every ounce of affection I have to give."
With a soft smile, you press a kiss to his lips, a silent promise of your unwavering devotion. "Together," you murmur against his lips, "we'll navigate through the darkness, hand in hand, until we find the light." In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of each other's embrace, you know that you've found your home in each other's arms. And as you hold each other close, you're filled with a sense of peace and contentment that you know will carry you through whatever trials lie ahead.
#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#smut#acotar#x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel#imagine#reader insert#azriel smut#azriel fluff#fluff
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Many people don't understand the difference between a paladin and an inquisitor. I mean, they're both religious warrior guys, right? What's the difference?
I mean, a lot? It's their whole motive and origin story, really.
A paladin is someone who has dedicated their life to a quest, to an oath, and they have done this out of a sense of religious devotion. They have said to their god that they believe this cause is righteous and holy and they will put their life and soul on the line for it, and their god has agreed with them, and given them boons and powers and protection in service of that mission. Paladins are deeply religious people, but you'll never see them praying: for them, their worship is in every swing of the sword, in every innocent protected, in every wrong righted. Their prayer is devotion to their cause.
Inquisitors... Are different. They didn't devote themselves to a cause so strongly it feels like dogma. They didn't take an unbreakable oath to stay on the one path for the rest of their days. They're someone who, at the end of their rope, prayed to the one thing they could still believe in and asked their god to give them a weapon that could destroy everything wrong in the world.
At their lowest moment when everything but their faith had been shattered, they used the last of their strength to ask for something, anything, to renew their purpose in this world. With nothing left to lose, they cried out to the heavens... In response, the clouds parted and glorious light shone down and God handed them a pistol.
A paladin is devoted to a cause, when can be everything from "the lich much be destroyed" to "the city's orphans need protection and food and shelter". Inquisitors are instead people who cried out "beloved god, the world is horrible and broken and full of sin!" and their god said "You're right. Take this sword and go kill the problem."
At the end of the day, a paladin is someone who is defined by an absolutely willingness to do whatever it takes to follow their oath.
An inquisitor is instead someone who has only one singular solution to every problem in the world, and it's kept very sharp.
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STEALING MIKEY'S KEYS SO HE'S LATE FOR A MEETING>>>>>
09:32 pm
I believe that intimacy is the new kind of pure love. Getting to know someone on a deeper level is something that goes beyond simple attachment, it goes beyond the simple but necessary need of validation.
Being intimate means getting on the same frequency level as a person and communicating effectively with each word, each action, and each stare.
Intimacy isn't something you only find under the sheets until sweat, tears and arousal dampen the mattress. Its true nature lies in between the actions of your everyday life, moments that don't need any kind of particular reason to happen and yet feel special because you are there, you are connected.
You have realised such a thing only briefly as the air is getting in and out of your lungs hectically, your breath coming short and irregular and the adrenaline rushing through your veins full speed with each pump of your vital muscle.
Your legs almost shake and your feet ache slightly, your eyes darting to the person in front of you with an excited and rebellious glimmer, the glint of life.
You've been running away from Mikey for the last ten minutes because you had taken the keys to his motorbike.
He has been spending every evening with Toman recently, not passing by your home to even say goodnight because the meetings always finish late at night.
You know that he always tries his best to make it up to you for the lost time with his ways of bringing your favourite sweets to school, taking you home and around the city with his bike whenever you need to, sending you a sweet message randomly throughout the day to check up on you, never missing the opportunity to hug you, kiss you or keeping you close when you pass by, and yet… You can't help but miss him more than anything.
You tried to talk to him about it but he prefers for you to not get too involved in his gang business: he fears your safety, not wanting hundreds of testosterone-filled guys to get close to his beloved.
You fear nothing when he's by your side but he still turns you down when you ask to come along with him: he has lost too many people he cared about for his good and he has no intention of putting you in danger even the slightest.
This had to change.
That's why you're preventing him from heading to the meeting of Toman until he makes up his mind.
“Y/N! I'm gonna be late, please, give me those darn keys back, goddamnit!!”
His voice spurts out desperately, short puffs of air coming out of his mouth as he tries to catch his breath: you're fast for fuck’s sake!
He is a bit pissed at you for acting this stubborn, sure, but he can't help the wide smile that plasters on his face the more he hears you laugh every time he can't catch you, every time you hide behind his motorbike and fool him by running in the opposite direction, almost tripping on your own feet.
That smile of yours, that light in your eyes is worth every spare minute of his life and the meeting can wait if that means he has the chance to see you this full of energetic playfulness.
You're both in the flowers of your youth and sometimes you forget that due to how harsh life experiences can be. Moments like these make up for the lost time.
As you raise your hand high and shake his keys, making them jingle as you do so, you can't help but feel overpowered by pride: having your super athletic boyfriend, the invincible Mikey whining out to you so he can get what he wants isn't an everyday occurrence (I mean– unless he's begging for sweets or your attention, of course). Maybe you could break him and he would finally let you come along in one of his meetings.
“Begging ain't gonna do shit, you gotta work for it, Mikey!”
Sprinting to the other side of the garden of his house, you can feel him sigh exasperatedly and follow you along as he mutters “If I catch you–" in between a breathy laugh.
The wind feels magical against your skin, the cool breeze of the night after a heated summer day gives you goosebumps and yet you feel hot all over; your blood pressure rising with each stride of your run is what keeps you going, laughing nonstop as you stare up the full moon over your head briefly, savouring such a moment that will surely become a core memory of yours.
As you hide behind his motorbike once again, Mikey stops a few feet away from you, the vehicle is the only thing separating your bodies.
“You’re a menace, y/n!”
You shrug at his words, rotating his keys on the tip of your index finger with a proud expression.
“I guess that dating a delinquent made the trick– eek!”
You can't even finish your sentence as Mikey takes a run-up and easily jumps over his CB250T and lands not so graciously on top of you, making you fall on the grass with a thud. The impact doesn't hurt that much though, not when Mikey put a hand behind your head right on time so you couldn't injure the slightest.
He couldn't resist the urge to bring you down and wipe off your face that shit-eating grin and see that cute pout your peachy lips make every time he catches you by surprise. He's a weak man, bear with him.
Pinning you down on the floor he takes away his keys from your hand and smiles toothly: his rosy cheeks and messy hair shine under the moonlight, his obsidian gems staring into your soul easily make you melt and your initial annoyance turns into an amused laugh. He's your angel, no matter what.
“Sorry, what were you saying about dating a delinquent?”
Rolling your eyes at his statement, your smile slowly fades when he gets off you and brushes some grass away from your shirt with his hand, before kissing the top of your head with the soft petals of his lips.
He was going to leave again and that thought screeches inside your brain. It doesn't sit well with you the fact that he's keeping you detached from a big aspect of his life… There's a strong gut feeling that tells you you shouldn't let it slide, you should insist on being part of this area of his life because, if you don't, something extremely bad will happen in the future.
And Mikey sees right through you, he always does, because he loves you and he is connected to your being in every way for respect and admiration.
He feels the intimate bond you two share, he can almost touch that connection, he can feel the burn of the red string that connects the two of you.
He can feel his bones ache under the weight of letting you drown away from him so sad and helpless and whenever he sees your angelic face darken out of worry and fear for him, for the both of you.
He knew why you took the keys away from him that day and he couldn't help finding it amusing and cute... but believe me when I say he's not blind and recognises the desperate attempt to have yourself near him for longer.
Mikey stands up from the ground and offers you his hand to stand up, his calloused hand brushes against your tender palm and holds in a strong and warm hold that doesn't flatter even when you're finally standing.
Staring down at your feet, your voice comes out in a whisper, a loving but pained one.
“Please, be careful Mik–”
“Hop on.”
Your head snaps up, your eyes searching for his out of confusion and then hope.
The two of you are intimate, you understand each other's worries and can feel them within your organs, you can feel each emotion run through your being and resonate like a magnetic wave from you to him and vice versa.
You two are flames that burn for love, with love: your glint should never flatter, you deserve to feel it alive and vibrating.
Mikey smiles at you as he puts his helmet on top of your head and secures it attentively.
“I'll keep you safe, pinkey promise”.
That's your man to you.
I have had this idea bouncing inside my head for a while now! I've been inspired by this post of the sweet @xsleepinggoodx.
I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it.
English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!
Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖
©GOLDENGIRLIEZ do not repost or modify on any platform.
#☁️fluff✧*。#🪻manjiro!#🪻tokrev!#manjiro sano#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers fluff#manjiro sano x reader#mikey#mikey x reader#ran haitani#tokyo revengers mikey#draken#ryuuguji ken#matsuno chifuyu#chifuyu fluff#kazutora fluff#kazutora hanemiya#baji keisuke#baji fluff#baji x reader#kazutora x reader#chifuyu x reader#draken x reader#mitsuya takashi#mitsuya x reader#mitsuya fluff#tokrev fluff#mikey smut#tokrev smut
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Do You Love?
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader
Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.
Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.
Words: 1400
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist
He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.
When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder.
It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes.
From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.
—
Reader POV
He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.
Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?
But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it.
But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?
Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.
--
Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest.
Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.
“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”
His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.
Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”
Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open.
“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him.
You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real.
Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier.
Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you.
Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.
“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes.
“In my nightmares.”
His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?”
You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”
“Why?”
“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”
Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.
“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”
Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat.
“I love you,” he tells you.
Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”
---
tag: @avidreader73
#feyd rautha x reader#feyd rautha x you#feyd rautha#dune part 2#austin butler#feyd rautha harkonnen#dune
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theodore nott. | you’re mine tonight
summary: theodore nott is always willing to be used by you. if you’re going to use somebody, just let it be him.
word count: 800
tags: headcanons that once again turned into this. i try to keep things short, apparently im physically incapable🥹 nothing crazy here other then implied fwb, slight angst, reader heartbreak kinda cuz cormac sux, theo being good with words as always, make out session at the end
Theodore Nott, who watches as you and your situationship, Cormac, argue every single day.
Theodore Nott who sees you cry constantly as a result of these arguments, tonight no unorthodox exception as you come storming back into the Slytherin common room with tears streaming down your cheeks, kicking off your heels and throwing yourself down next to him on a secluded corner couch.
Your eyes, brimming with anguish and pleading for solace, lock onto his, a look he knows all too damn well.
Theodore Nott, who doesn’t have to ask, doesn’t have to pry, who already knows exactly why you’re here, sitting next to him, when you could be literally anywhere else. He reads the story in your tear-streaked cheeks and your trembling hands. It’s a scene he’s witnessed so many times he’s lost count.
Theodore Nott, who merely closes his book, runs a hand through his tousled hair, and rests the other on your knee. PDA is off the table since you don’t want Cormac to find out—even though he’s been sneaking off with more girls than you have fingers on both hands—so Theo simply looks at you with those steady, knowing eyes and whispers, “your dorm or mine?”
You swallow, grateful gaze shifting toward the door. It’s always so fucking easy with Theo.
“Always yours,” you murmur, rising to your feet and picking up your discarded heels. Without waiting for his response, you start toward his dorm, certain he’s right behind you. He always is.
Theodore Nott, who shuts the door and locks it behind you as the two of you enter. The lights are dim, the shadows of the Black Lake ripple against the walls, and moonlight flickers throughout the room. Theodore Nott, who notices the look on your face well before you do, who can already sense the words that are about to slip past your teeth.
Theo knows well enough by now that you only come to him when you’re hurt, and you never feel good about it until he reassures you it’s okay. He sees it in the subtle shift of your gaze, the furrow of your brow, the tremble of your lips—a silent plea for forgiveness he’s already long granted you.
“I’m sorry, Theo…”
Theodore Nott, who understands you just need someone to hold you right now. Someone who will look at you with warmth, with desire, with need, someone who will give you all of himself in this moment. A shoulder to cry on, bedsheets to lie on.
“It’s okay, bella, don’t apologize…”
Theodore Nott who steps closer, his hands stern yet gentle as they cup your cheeks, drawing your gaze to his. Reverent blue eyes glisten like two oceans, drowning you in their warmth. Theodore Nott who brushes the damp from your cheeks with his thumbs before leaning down, grazing his lips over yours, feather-light.
“I’ve said it about a million times, you know I’ve already told you—“
Theodore Nott, who interrupts his own sentence by pressing his lips to yours, inhaling a sharp breath as your salty sweetness ignites in his mouth. Tears mingle with your cherry lip gloss, his hands sliding back into your hair, and he’s lost and then found again—as though you’re the only beacon in a world shrouded in darkness, the answer to all his unspoken questions.
Theodore Nott, who needs this, who wants this just as much, if not more, than you do.
“—if you’re gonna’ use somebody…use me…”
Theodore Nott who practically growls those words into your mouth as fervour takes over, as hunger roars harder and stronger with each passing second. One hand grips your hair, holding your lips to his while the other falls to your blouse, slender fingers undoing the buttons with a speed that leaves you breathless.
“…I’m so fucking willing to be somebody you need…”
His fingers deftly slip the last button free, his hand sliding beneath the fabric to feel the warmth of your skin. The touch sends shivers through you, your body responding to his every move. His lips trail down your jaw, pressing hot kisses along your neck, making you gasp. Theodore's grip on your hair tightens just enough to tilt your head back, exposing more of your throat to his eager mouth.
The room seems to shrink around you, the flickering moonlight casting shadows that dance across the walls, mirroring the wild rhythm of your hearts. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze dark and intense.
"You drive me insane…how much I fucking want you drives me insane," he admits, his breath hitching. "Every time I see you with him…every time I see what he does to you…it kills me…”
Theodore Nott whose words are like gasoline to an open flame, igniting a fierce need within you, scorching while simultaneously taming the desire to be desired. Theodore Nott who groans as you clutch at his shirt, pulling him closer, desperate to close any distance between you as he shifts you around and begins backing you up toward his bed.
"Show me, Theo," you whisper. "Show me how much you want me."
With a growl, Theodore crashes his lips back to yours, the kiss searing and urgent. He moves with you effortlessly, guiding you towards the bed, never breaking the contact. As you fall back onto the soft sheets, his body follows, covering you completely. His hands roam over your skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, each touch more intoxicating than the last.
"You're mine tonight," it’s a promise. Not a question. "No one else's. Just mine."
pretty divider made by: @saradika-graphics
#theo nott x reader#theo nott smut#theodore nott x reader#theonott#theodorenott x reader#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott x you#theodore nott fluff#theodore nottsmut#theodore nott smut#theodorenott#theodore smut#theodore#theodore nott#theo nott#theo smut#theo#nott#lorenzo zurzolo#lorenzozurzolo#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys#slytherinboys#harry potter
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RELATIONSHIP HEADCANNONS
Mondstadt Boys
Nothing sexual is explicitly mentioned in this, only vaguely suggestive for Venti. For all of the younger characters it is strictly romantic. (And before you come at me in the comments, I went to high school. I’ve seen close romantic relationships between teenagers that never even verged on sexual and would never even consider writing an underaged character in such a light.)
This is also my first time making a post like this, so please be nice. Any advice is welcome since I’m still relatively new to Tumblr.
Kaeya-
Kaeya would never in a million years consider dating someone with serious romantic intentions, even if his feelings were fully reciprocated. His past, his secrets, his ties to so many dangerous factions would put them in immediate danger at all times, and if there’s one thing we know about Kaeya it's that he would do anything to protect the people he loves. Including breaking both his and their hearts in the process. But if he was free from all of that, Kaeya would love an SO who he could just relax around. Just be Kaeya instead of everything else. They would be his safe space, his only true home outside of Dawn Winery, and the true meaning of freedom for him.
What Kaeya didn’t know he wanted in a significant other was someone who could see past his masks instinctively. They never commented on his half-truths, his bluffs, his misdirections. But through the briefest of eye contact he knew that you knew exactly what he was doing. He comes back home in the early hours of the morning with bloody knuckles and open wounds, they are still up and bandages him while talking softly about whatever gossip had been hot on the market that morning.
Kaeya is flirtatious by nature, and his playboy attitude extends to them in public so many don’t think their relationship is that serious. But behind closed doors, with his heart open and gently placed in their hands, you would think they were divine in nature. They laughed at the attempts of other people to flirt with him, because they already knew that his heart belonged to them.
Diluc-
Much like Kaeya, Diluc knows he lives too dangerous a life to consider a romantic relationship. Unlike Kaeya though, he craves that connection just a little more fiercely than Kaeya. While Kaeya is constantly surrounded by the friendly comradery of the Knights, Diluc is far more isolated. Of course he has Adeline, Elzer, and the other workers at the Dawn Winery who’ve known him since he was a child, but he doesn’t share any close friendships that goes to on a regular basis. What Diluc knows he would want in an SO more than anything else is companionship. If he could afford to, he wouldn’t care where they’re from or what their background is if they were able to make him forget about his responsibilities for just a little bit. Someone he can come home to.
What Diluc didn’t know he wanted was someone who could help him repair his stunted relationships. Someone who invites Kaeya over for tea while they know he will be home and eventually coax both of the brothers to dig up five years worth of skeletons and come to a much better understanding. Someone who helps him at the bar after long days working in the vineyard, keeping an ear out for anything people might not otherwise let slip near the intimidating man. Above all else, Diluc did not know what he wanted was a true partner who was as dedicated to his own wellbeing as he was to theirs.
Diluc would not be showy about his affection beyond what was appropriate for a gentleman. Arm hooked around yours, hand against lower back, and maybe a quick peck on the lips if they had relative privacy. Back home though, this man is so touch-starved that he will be wrapped around his SO for as much time as possible. Playing chess? Too bad, they have to move their pieces while sitting on his side of the board. Reading a book? Someone’s head is in the other person’s lap. Sleeping? They only use a thin sheet because Diluc is a heater and plasters himself to his SO’s back and tucks them under his chin like a stuffed animal.
Venti-
Wow. You thought the previous two were traumatized? Venti has watched entire civilizations be wiped from remembrance at the whims of the Heavenly Principles and does everything in his power to make Monstadt seem like less of a threat in order to prevent the same thing from happening to him. Nearly all of his significant relationships have been ended by death or time, so the thought of having an SO, especially an immortal one, would terrify him. Contrary to popular thinking, I think Venti would want an SO who is mortal. 60-70 years of bliss, forever immortalized in song, and out of reach from the claws of the Heavenly Principles.
What Venti didn’t know he wanted was an SO who was an artist themselves. He was so used to being the performer, the one expected to entertain the audience with story and song. With just a little instruction (and maybe a blessing made on a bet) they were already able to rival Venti’s prowess with a lyre. It made quite the stir in Mondsadt, as Venti had been unmatched for years, and soon fan clubs were formed. Whether they were being shipped or slandered, there was none who could deny the inherent chemistry between Venti and his rival. In fact, there was no clear confirmation on their relationship until Venti drank nearly half of the Angel Share’s stock on a dare and kissed them full on the mouth. And even then the heated debate persisted. Until one day, they climbed on top of the church and belted out a serenade for all of Monstadt to hear before proposing to their “cheeky, bird-brained, bastard who also happens to be the love of their life”. Yeah, Venti may or may not have caused a mini hurricane to knock them off their feet so he could sweep them away to Starsnatch Cliff.
Venti is flirty, but after he starts seriously courting his SO he noticeably tones it down. Creative and blush-inducing complements to his audience were still common, but nothing truly improper. In private… he shared an ungodly amount of characteristics with those cats he’s allergic to. Spoiled with kisses and cuddles, demanding when he goes without their attention for more than a few minutes, and if they’re open to it, always ready for more exciting activities. Like stated previously, Venti doesn’t want his SO to be immortal. As much as their death will hurt, at least he was able to make sure that their short life ended peacefully and with a full heart. He will sing your songs and tell the tale of the two bards who had captured each other’s hearts. Besides, even he will return to the winds one day. And then will be able to reunite with them, and all of his old friends.
Razor-
Honestly, Razor’s concept of a romantic relationship between two humans is either completely nonexistent or radically underdeveloped. He’s seen wolves court and mate (Though Andrius keeps Razor away during mating season. Young pups should not witness such things) so I think that any kind of romantic action would just come off as heavily platonic or familial. He’s never thought about finding any sort of life-partner, all he wants is to protect his family, so whatever vague idea of an SO or “mate” Razor has would involve him taking care of them and being taken care of in turn.
What Razor didn’t suspect was that his SO would be so willing to be accepted into his Lupical. While he had friends like Bennett and Klee who were nice to him whenever they saw him around, but most people still tended to avoid Razor. It hurt a bit, but as long as Razor had his Lupical and his friends, he never gave anyone else much thought. Until one day, he found an adventurer freeing a wolf cub who had gotten its paw stuck in a hunting trap. Such traps should not have been so close to the wolves’ territory, and Razor found out later that they had come on a commission from the Knights to investigate. However, Razor noticed how in the process of freeing and bandaging the pup, they had torn open their hands. He had immediately gone looking for Wolfhook, and waited until night when they had fallen asleep to sneak in and apply the berry paste. He didn’t want to frighten them, and instead opted to watch over them while they slept. He fell asleep sometime during the early morning, and only awoke to the smell of meat cooking. He opened his eyes to see the adventurer watching him from the opposite side of the fire, a plate of berries and steaming meat set near him.
Razor was quickly enamored by the lone adventurer. They were a new recruit, and had actually heard of Razor from Katheryne when they accepted the commission. Over time, the adventurer ended up taking every opportunity possible to visit Razor. The boy’s excitement whenever he caught their scent on the wind never lessened, and both of them often spent nights in the middle of Wolvendom in blissful silence. Razor never felt like he had to talk much around them, and the same could be said of them. The two were able to discern most of what they needed to from body language, facial expressions, and scent in Razor’s case at times. It didn’t take long for them to be introduced to the rest of Razor’s Lupical. The pup they had rescued recognized them immediately and spent the entire evening receiving head scratches. As midnight approached, the older wolves nudged Razor towards their slumped over form. They had passed out with most of the pups on top of them, and Razor immediately curled up behind them with his chin resting over their exposed neck protectively. Just as he had watched the wolves do with their mates.
Albedo-
Wow. Kinda a mix of Kaeya and Razor; he is flirty (His teapot voice lines startled a blush out of me the first time I heard them) but way more subtle about it. But I also don’t think he has ever seriously considered a romantic relationship with someone. While the thought had crossed his mind once or twice, who could he possibly meet who would be compatible with him? His personal identity as a homunculus and a creation of Rhinedottr means he is already a nonhuman entity, and his title as Mondstadt’s Chief Alchemist and his work keeps most of his relationships strictly professional. Even his friendships are mostly cordial, though he does enjoy the company of others at times. This man is always doing something, so entertaining romantic notions for anyone has never entered the picture. However, I think he would like a SO similar to Fanon!Traveler Lumine (And I’m not just saying this because I’m on the Albelumi ship I promise). Someone who managed to catch Albedo’s attention would need to have something inherently unique about them. Someone who manages to keep his attention on them for a significant period of time would have to have an equally appealing, lighthearted personality that practically lit up the room whenever they walked in.
What Albedo did not expect from his SO was someone who showed so much care for him. Someone who is curious about Albedo’s work, even if they don’t fully understand it. Someone who may not understand art, but recognizes the effort Albedo puts into his drawings. Someone who invites (read: coerces) Albedo out of his lab to go eat at Good Hunter or take the evening off to relax at Angels Share. Their occupation and background doesn’t mean much to him personally, the information is only relevant if it pertains to their health or behavior. Only one issue with this set up, even if feelings are completely reciprocated. Albedo has no clue what these feelings are and where they are coming from and will spend far too much time deliberating on what he should do to them. Much to the exasperation of all of the Knight and his fellow alchemists. Once Albedo does a full analysis of himself (bloodwork, brain scans, chemical analysis, a few experiments to see how he reacts to certain stimuli, this man is nothing if not thorough) he will come to the conclusion that he is in love. (Sucrose sighs when Albedo brings the test results to her.) And he immediately launches himself into a new kind of research. He asks around about the best way to confess, and eventually decides to cultivate a new species of flowers specifically for them and then just cut to the chase over a private picnic under the stars. This man already has no filter, so once he manages to correctly identify the emotions he is feeling, the length of time between then and the actual confession would be much shorter.
Those flowers Albedo cultivates in their honor would be everywhere once his SO admitted their feelings were mutual. He dedicated an entire section of the alchemists’ greenhouse to them and ordered for no one else to touch them except for him. They would find the flowers in their hair, in between books, scattered around Albedo’s workspace, and somehow in their house. Similar to Diluc, the few times Albedo and his SO were out together in public people would know that they’re dating, but beside the fact that the two were almost always holding hands and the occasional peck on the cheek, neither were overly affectionate in public. Albedo would also be incredibly flexible in private when it came to their dynamic. He likes both giving and receiving affection and doesn’t really have a preference as long as he can spend as much time as possible in their company when he’s not working. They like to follow him on his expeditions to Dragonspine, mainly for the excuse to snuggle with Albedo every night when they get cold. The rest of the Knights adjusted well to Albedo’s SO, even if Sucrose needed to take on more work at times so Albedo could spend more time with them. The Knights closest to Albedo watched with fascination as the typically workaholic alchemist actually took lunch breaks, got in late, and left the moment he was satisfied with the progress of his experiments. What they don’t see is how the way he treats his SO in private is almost reverent. They are his muse, his lover, and his eternal companion (because unlike Venti, Albedo would 100% find a way for his SO the share his lifespan if they so chose to) and in one of his dark moments, Albedo realizes just how much he would ruin if it meant they stayed safe.
Also, Alice would 100% show up for the first time in years just to help her son get ready for his first date.
Haven’t played Bennett’s hangout quest yet and don’t know enough about his character so I will probably post him with another nation once I get around to it.
I’ll get around to doing Liyue if enough people decide they like this.
#genshin impact#diluc x reader#kaeya x reader#genshin drabbles#genshin x you#relationship headcanons#venti x reader#razor x reader#albedo x reader#diluc headcanons#kaeya headcanons#venti headcanons#razor headcannons#albedo headcanons
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With you
About Mattheo, Enzo and Theo
You are depressed and struggling to talk about it, but your boyfriend notices something isn’t right and offers you comfort.
Struggles take many forms and I've had my share, but I've never been depressed. So I hope I did this right and with respect to those who’re going through or went through that struggle. However, as a writer I want to bring words to all things scary and difficult so we might find comfort. So I hope our sweet Slytherins bring you exactly that: comfort. 💛 Sending you all a lot of love!
Warning: depressed reader, but hopeful/sweet ending
– The request –
Hi bestie, im kinda in a v angsty mood and I was wondering if I could request something for Mattheo, Enzo, and Theo (my favorite boys 🥰) having a significant other who has depression and how they’d react and be there for them please?
Also, please make sure you’re taking care of yourself and drinking enough water 💞
– The writing –
Mattheo: I’ll sit with you.
Mattheo stared at you as you flipped through the pages of your book, not managing to focus on reading it, but not putting it away either. He had noticed something, but he had no clue what it was. Lately you just seemed so absent? You smiled and laughed like normal, but it faded so quickly and it saddened Mattheo. “Can I ask you something?” His soft voice makes you look with intrigued eyes. “When Pansy asked how you were earlier and you smiled and said ‘yeah, fine’ were you? Are you… alright?” His question for an honest and real answer catches you off guard and forces you to think about something you had been wondering about yourself.
“I don’t know.” You pause and there’s a heavy silence. “I don’t feel alright... Like, I’m sad, but not like sad sad more like I’m a dim light that can’t shine.” You explain. You’re surprised you finally manage to put words to the struggle that had slowly taken over your every day.
Mattheo moves closer to you, seeing your pain and wanting to fix it. "We'll find a way to fix it." Suddenly, finally the sobs fall. "Am I broken?" You ask in response to his words. A hurt look shoots through his face. "NO! You're not broken. That's not what I meant." Your tears keep on falling and the agonising sadness you've felt fills the room. Mattheo's heart squeezes in pain, he can almost physically feel your emotional pain. "You're not broken... far from it... and maybe that's the problem." You look up at Mattheo, eyes blurry with tears. "Let yourself fall apart for once. Break just for a moment, let everyone take care of you instead of you taking care of everyone else." Your chest heaves as your tears fall uncontrollably. "I can't break. I can't feel it all. It's too much. It numbs me." Mattheo wraps his arms around you and you curl up into a ball. “I love you.” He whispers as tears continue to roll down your cheeks.
“I can’t do this anymore. I feel like there’s no light, no air or no life in me.” You manage to confess and he just squeezes you. His eyes get watery as he feels so pained, hearing you say those words breaks him as much as it relieves him to know that at least you’re not hiding it anymore. “It’s like no matter how hard I try I can’t be happy anymore.” You sob and move away from your boyfriend to dry your tears with your sleeve. Mattheo watches you for a second, giving you some space and keeping himself from holding you until all is fine again, until all pain is gone. He knows very well that he can’t magically cure the hurt you feel, he can’t save you or even know what you’re going through. He struggles to find the right words to comfort you.
“I’m sorry.” You whisper, hating the weight you put on him, feeling like instead of feeling down you’re now also spreading misery, but over Mattheo’s dead body that he’ll let you believe that. He cups your cheeks and brings his face close to yours. “Whatever you’re feeling or not feeling, fear, pain, nothing… talk to me or just come to me and sit with me. Just promise me that whatever struggle you’re going through you’ll fight and search for life in all its bright colours. And that when you need someone you’ll come to me, you’ll yell at me until I see you because I’ll do anything for you! Promise?” You nod gently and Mattheo smiles so brightly that his happiness touches you and makes you sob again.
“Love, is there anything I can do for you in this moment?” You meet your boyfriend’s eyes and let yourself drown in them for a few seconds. “Sit with me?” You whisper. “I’ll sit with you.” He simply and calmly states, like your request wasn’t that weird at all. He gives you a sweet kiss on your forehead and you both sit in silence, in peace and comfort.
Enzo: I’ll walk with you
Enzo is the light, not just in your life but in every room he enters. Recently you felt like you were bringing him down with your silence, absence and general sadness. You felt like you couldn’t keep up with his energised spirit and therefore weren’t worthy of being around him… or anyone for that matter. So you sought solitude, at least then you didn’t have to deal with the suffocating guilt of ruining everyone else’s joy. However, what you didn’t see was that everytime you excused yourself and left, your boyfriend lost the only light in the room that mattered to him. He had noticed something was going on with you but trusted you would talk when ready.
After weeks of watching you exclude yourself from every occasion, he felt like you were slipping away from him and it terrified him. Not feeling sophisticated enough to come up with the right words Enzo trusted his instincts and did what he did best, show you an abundance of love.
When he noticed you had a slow and silent morning. He had your favourite drink in your comfort mug ready for you at breakfast. That half sad, half sleepy smile was worth it.
When you forced a smile and it looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders he would bring your favourite snacks by your room.
When he saw your eyes get teary as you watched the stars he offered you a piece of chocolate.
It was like he was always stocked up with anything that could cheer you up.
You, Pansy and Enzo were walking through the hallways bantering. You laughed at her sassy comments and added some witty remarks, earning a wicked smile from your boyfriend. I love her sooo much! When Pansy announces that she’s got places to be and people to bother, Enzo sees you relax and as soon as Pansy leaves your face falls. You look less happy, but you also look more real to Enzo. That’s when it hit him. Now that Pansy is gone you're not pretending anymore. You are always so brave, being the joyful one for everyone else. What’s going on in that overcomplicated brain of yours?
A soft sigh escapes your lips, but you immediately cover it up with a smile, but Enzo sees right through it. He opens his bag and searches for something and you narrow your eyes as he makes some goofy sounds. “Almost.” He says, his tongue sticking out a little as his arm fully disappears in his bag. “Got it!” He suddenly pulls out a small plastic bag with sweets and raises his eyebrows giving you a smirky half smile. “For my sweet lady.” He says opening it and offering it to you. You shake your head and chuckle softly, while letting your eyes roll over all the different candies in the bag. “Hey Enz, why do you always have snacks or sweets or random delicious things with you? You’re turning into that trolly lady on the Hogwarts express.” Enzo laughs at that and you reach for a particular coloury one, but then Enzo falls silent for a second. “You want to know the truth?” You frown and nod, surprised that there’s some serious reason behind the seemingly innocent tasty foods.
“It’s my stupid attempt to make you happy, because I know you’re not… happy.” You’re terrified at what he just said, revealed, about you. I’m not happy…. You knew it was true but it still hurt to hear your boyfriend say it out loud. Your eyes get teary and part of you just wants to run away. “I don’t know what you’re feeling and you don’t have to explain it to me. Just let me try and make you happy or at least make your day a little less sad.” Enzo offers you the candies again, but this time your heart sinks and your stomach turns. “Is there anything I can do?” Enzo whispers and you just shake your head no. “Please?” Enzo begs just above a whisper. You stare in front of you for a moment. “Will you just walk with me?” You finally say and you lazily move your arm in the direction of your common room. A soft chuckle leaves Enzo’s lips and he slings an arm around you. “I’ll walk with you.” You walk together and in silence and that silent walk gives you hope for happiness.
Theo: I’ll go with you
Your grades had slipped up, but what your professors were mostly worried about was your lack of effort. So it was Dumbledore himself that had ordered you to go talk to a professional. The idea had been bothering you for days as the appointment approached. You were nervously fidgeting with your fingers and Pansy slapped her book on the table in front of you. “Just don’t go. What are they gonna do about it? Your grades don’t have to be perfect and talking to someone sure isn’t going to get you studying again. They should just make these subjects less boring.” Your boyfriend snorted and smiled reassuringly at you. Yeah, how was talking gonna help? You laugh with Pansy and shake off your worries like you always do when you’re with other people.
However, the day of the appointment you were lost. You didn’t want to go. You didn’t want to talk. Just thinking about what you would say almost made you cry, break down, throw up… you weren’t ready for this, but you were also in need of someone who could reassure you and help you, give you hope that this agonising feeling wouldn’t last. You didn’t know what to do but you also knew that you weren’t in a good place and needed to do something. Theo had just finished quidditch practice and decided to check up on you instead of hang with his friends. He really didn’t put any thought into it, but when he swung open your door and found your crying and pacing around he was grateful that he had decided to come see you. “What-?” He takes a step towards you and he looks so concerned that you instantly wipe away your tears. “I’m fine. Just stressed.” Your shaky body betrays you and Theodore calmly watches you, not saying a thing, just waiting for you to say something.
You don’t say anything and feel a sudden fatigue fall over you, so you sit down on your bed. Theodore follows you and gently sits down next to you. When he tries to wrap an arm around you you move away to lay down on your bed. “Is it me?” He asks and you shake no, but don’t meet his gaze. “Is it someone I can punch?” Is his next question and normally this would earn at least a faint smile, but nothing. “Is it-” You can’t bear it anymore, his painfully worried voice hurts you and you were already hurting enough. “No. No. It’s no one. It’s nothing. Everything is fine. The world isn’t falling apart. Okay.” You sound agitated, but Theo isn’t shook by your tone at all. “Sure, looks like my world is falling apart.” He states, staring intently at you. Finally you meet his eyes. “I think I should talk to someone.” You whisper utterly terrified of your own words and of your boyfriend's reaction. “Good thing Dumblredore set up this meeting right?” You offer Theo a weak smile. “I’m afraid to go.” You whisper and Theo thinks over your words, taking them very seriously. “Want me to go with you? I’ll go as far as you need me to go.” You feel fresh air rush through your lungs. With one simple suggestion he had offered you so much, but immediately worries take root in your mind. “You don’t have to. I don’t want to bother you with stuff like this.” Theo lets out a soft laugh and gets up from your bed. “You say that like I have better things to do than be with my girlfriend. Come on, get up. I’ll go with you.” You watch him as you still lay on your bed. “I love you.” You whisper as you summon all your strength and get up.
#slytherin#slytherin boys#theodore nott#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott x reader#enzo berkshire#enzo berkshire imagine#enzo berkshire x reader#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#papercorgiworldwritings
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starving
part 1 | part 2 [you're here!]
Simon x Fem!Insecure!Reader.
finally got the idea for part 2. excited?
me too
TW: Talk of ed's, negative self talk, low self esteem, bad mouthing (from reader to herself, comes with the territory) cursing, self harm. i tried not to be too descriptive with the reader, so EVERY insecure girlie who reads this feels seen.
semi proofread bc who cares
The next morning was exhausting as the last.
You got up early to go running. If you ever have the chance, you run until the sun comes up. You need to stay fit if you want a boyfriend. It was easier when you were on your meds. Almost like you had the will to live those mornings.
You were back at the house around 8 am. You weren't scheduled for work today so... You headed back to bed and really, just slept the day away
You woke up around 5 pm. 5, really? God, you are just some depressed child.
You got out of bed for the second time, and changed into a dress. It was hard seeing yourself in a dress after 2 years. You stopped going out because alcoholism and anti-depressants aren't really two peas in a pod, are they?
Well this is why you quit. You dropped your therapist and your meds because you were better, and your mom stopped helping with the payments, and now you can go back to partying.
Minus the heavy drinking.
Hopefully.
You tear your eyes off yourself. If you stare too long, you'll end up convincing yourself to stay in bed longer. You configure the rest of your outfit, and grab a small black purse. Throwing your phone in it, you leave the house quicky. If you don't, you might properly convince yourself you're just as ugly as you thought..
The drive to the bar was silent, save from the honking cars around you. Fuck, what if this is the wrong idea? I mean the looks everyone will give you, you look so bad and so ugly and god this was such a bad--
You hear a car honk behind you. The light turned green. You lower your head, sighing, and taking a left.
Once at the bar, you slip into one of the seats nearer the back, feeling uncomfortable in the seat. Adjusting your dress down, you cringe while looking around the bar. There's so many pretty women here, and comparatively you are way under them.
You order a drink, sipping on the alcohol for the first time in months. Fuck, your therapist would be losing it if she knew you not only stopped meds but started drinking again...
You rested your head in your palm, watching others interact. Pretty women just have a way with men, a way you've never had. The buzz of the alcohol was enough to make you not question why nobody has interacted with you, other than the bartender. People probably think your such a loser, I mean, who would just sit here and drink--
"Hey. You're, uh.. That girl from yesterday right?" A gruff voice appears behind you. You flinch forward, whipping your head around.
Oh. This guy.
You slowly put your drink down, your palm over the top of it.
"And who are you?" You ask, eyeing the man. He didn't have his mask on. He was... Really cute.
"A customer." He sat next to me, his eyes trained on mine. I felt sort of flushed under his gaze.
Fuckin' small world.
You spent some of the night talking with him. Still don't know his name, or why you ran into him here, but you don't care nonetheless.
You were looking for sex this night but... Is a connection so bad?
Like you could make a connection with someone who is out of your league.
thank god i finished this. 3 drafts later, and im sorry its kinda short. trust part 3 is gonna have the good stuff, this is kinda a filler so it can get to the good stuff.
ily babes...
-a661
taglist:
@i-am-hungry-24-7 @arminarlertssword @haven-1307
#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x you#simon fluff#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost fluff
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Anon: May I request Platonic Mukamis with a little sister?
Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, overprotective behavior, clinginess, delusional mindset, isolation, manipulation, threats, self-harming tendencies
Little sister
None of the Mukami brothers are related by blood yet their bond surpasses that of even siblings who are related. They have been sticking together ever since they found each other and fought for their survival in the unforgiving world. They find you when you are but a mere baby, a few months old at best, left behind in a side street as if you are disposable trash. Whilst Yuma and Ruki show some hesitation as they don't know how capable they will be to provide for you, especially since you are so young and dependent, Kou and Azusa are immediately enraptured when you look at them with innocent doe eyes. Azusa even starts crying as he begs his older brothers to take you in and ultimately Ruki gives in to his pleas. It is always difficult but they try their best to cater to your needs as good as they can and even give you a name after a lot of small arguments about what name fits you best. Your wellbeing is prioritised over even their own as your presence is like rays of sunlight, warm and welcoming. When Karlheinz offers to transform them, all of them immediately take the offer as they realise that this is their chance to give you the treatment that you deserve.
Ruki Mukami
📘Even if Ruki has expressed his doubts when the four brothers found you back when they were still humans, he has grown into the role of your oldest brother. Perhaps even a little bit too well. The fact that he didn't immediately want to take you under their care when you were still a baby is something he hides from your knowledge even so many years later and he has urged his brothers to do the same. He fears that if you were to ever find out about his initial hesitance, you would turn your back on him and favor his younger brothers over him. He takes immense pride in the fact that he is your oldest brother as he likes to treat it as if it would give him some special rights in comparison to his younger brothers. Those special rights include making most of the decisions for you as he claims that as the oldest he naturally has the most experience and knows what would be best for you in every situation of your life. If you have anything that worries you, Ruki encourages you to seek him out. He is the one who oversees your homeschooling as his brother and him have all agreed that attending school with humans is far too dangerous for you. He can teach you all you need to know.
📘From all of your brothers, Ruki is the one who places the most restrictions on you, even as you grow older. His motivations lie largely within his paranoia and his overprotective tendencies because even if you are a half-vampire just like them, he can't stop himself from still seeing that little, toothless baby in you that smiled whenever she saw his face. It is only natural for you to grow older and more independent yet Ruki finds himself despising that process as he worries that one day you may intend to leave the mansion and go on your own adventures. You are his little light and you have always been and he has always been your big brother and intends for you to continue thinking that way. He is quite adamant on family events where all Mukami siblings participate and his brothers have never once rejected that idea because it means spending precious time with their adored, little sister. The happiness you five share is not an illusion and he really wants you to realise that whenever such a family event happens. You could never get the same amount of happiness with anyone else besides them. Do you understand him? It is best and safest for you to always stay with your beloved brothers.
Kou Mukami
🎤From the very first moment your bleary eyes met his own, Kou has known that he would do everything for you and turn into anyone if it meant to keep you and protect you. You are a little princess that deserves the world yet surviving on the streets always meant that he couldn't treat you the way he wanted to. When Karlheinz transformed them and gave them capabilities and riches they could have never dreamt about before, Kou finally could do what he hadn't been able to do before. From the very first day since they started their new life to the current day, your second-oldest brother has never stopped spoiling you absolutely rotten. Whatever you have wanted throughout your life, you have always gotten from him as prices nor rarity of the object you wanted have never mattered to him. Kou is quite playful and he proudly claims that title as your favorite playmate. Whether you want him to play with your puppets with you or want to play hide and seek with him, he has always entertained you. Ruki has reprimanded him already due to the risk he sees in some of the games he plays with you but Kou has always reassured him that he would never allow you to get hurt.
🎤From the first night they took you in though, Kou has always sung for you. It always made his heart swell when you would start crying during the day or night but would slowly calm down the moment he started singing a lullaby for you. It is one memory he greatly bemoans the older you grow and lullabies start being less important to you yet he still sings for you quite often. He composes a lot of songs and many of them he has written for you during his life, soothing melodies and kind words to calm your frightened young mind as you grew up. You still love his voice and his music though and that knowledge fills him with pride and with warmth and he gladly allows you to try to write a song of your own or teaches you how to play an instrument. He finds himself playfully pouting whenever he notices that you prefer spending time with another one of his brothers, he can't help the tinge of jealous he feels whenever he witnesses that sight. He tolerates it though as he knows that Ruki, Yuma and Azusa are mindful of the time they spend with you. Such jealousy always evaporates the moment you compliment him though or tell him how much you love your big brother.
Yuma Mukami
🌱Yuma has his doubts when they initially pick you up because he knows how harsh the environment is that they live in. He has always been tall and physically very strong which allows him to protect those who are important to him. You are still a tiny and fragile baby though. How are you supposed to survive on the streets? Even when Ruki agreed to take you under their care, he still has his doubts. It is the moment he holds you for the first time and you wrap your tiny fingers around one of his that he gathers the determination to defend you till his last breath. After he has been turned into a half-vampire and gained even more physical strength, he has only strengthened that vow in his mind. His tall physical build has always led him to be exceptionally gentle with you, especially when you are still only a small child. A part of him has always been worried that you may be scared of him because of his strength and tall build yet you have never expressed once any anxiety as you always come running to him and stretch your arms out, your large eyes begging him to lift you up and twirl you around. He has never been able to deny those cute eyes of yours, even though he has always been careful.
🌱Whether lifting you up, letting you sit on his shoulders or giving you a piggyback, Yuma has always been the equivalent of a human amusement park for you and this is something he takes pride in. He has been taking you to his garden from a very young age too and you are the only person who has ever gotten away with jumping through his patch without getting chased down angrily by him. He enjoys teaching you how to cater to the needs of a plant and how to tell if the fruits and vegetables are ripe or not. Whatever of the harvest you prefer the most is what he ends up sowing and growing the most in his garden just to watch the excited glimmer in your eyes whenever he informs you that it's time to harvest your favorite fruits and vegetables. You are in general quite isolated from other people yet the few times you are taken out, Yuma is terrifyingly efficient to scare away anyone who looks like they consider to approach you. Very few have the guts to chat with you if he is always right behind you after all. All that frightening strength that could easily crush someone's skull is never shown to you though as Yuma has always been only gentle and careful with you.
Azusa Mukami
🗡️Azusa has been attached to you from the very start, his heart nearly bursting when he found your little form in a basket all alone as your mother has left you behind. He begs Ruki to let them keep you as he fears that no one else would take you in and that you would end up dying lonely and afraid without having ever experienced love and he even bursts out in tears as he pleads to his older brothers. He even volunteers to take care of you all by himself if no one from that would agree to keep you. He has stayed the most attached to you even up until now, although he has been forced to limit the time he spends with you as you grow older and require a bit more privacy. When you were a baby he would always be right next to you or hold you even himself as you fell asleep, his fingers playing with your small ones and he would read bedtime stories to you, always happy when you came running to him with a book clutched in your hands that you wanted him to read to you. The youngest brother of yours often finds himself bemoaning the time when you were so cute and tiny, even if you will forever be his baby sister for him. Sometimes he still asks you if he can read a book to you.
🗡️Whilst his older brothers care for him, Azusa has some self-harming tendencies and they have always been worried that he might set a bad example for you. They care for him and want him to stop because it saddens them to see him like that but they are also afraid that you might pick up on it or would get scared once you are old enough to realise what Azusa is doing. To all of their relief helping to raise you seems to rid Azusa of that unhealthy behavior of his for the most part as he instead dedicates much more time to protect and raise you lovingly. Yet he has some relapses at times, mostly when you have an accident or fall ill. He cares deeply for you so seeing you in any kind of pain induces him with such anxiety that he feels his throat tightening and his vision blurring. In a very twisted sense of wanting to suffer with you, he resorts to grabbing a knife and cutting himself over and over again to show solitude with you. Azusa never tells you the truth behind all the bandages and the band-aids he wears the next time you see him though as all of his brothers have warned him that he might make you feel guilty. Being the reason for your sadness is the last thing Azusa would want.
#yandere diabolik lovers#yandere dl#yandere ruki#yandere ruki mukami#yandere kou#yandere kou mukami#yandere yuma#yandere yuma mukami#yandere azusa#yandere azusa mukami#platonic yandere#yandere x reader#diabolik lovers x reader
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💍 Preparing for a proposal 💍
Something short and sweet to finally update here again properly. ❤️
Grim/Casper x GN!Reader
Casper was planning this for awhile now, but he was as nervous as the day the idea even crossed his mind. Thanks to you and your silly teasing...
He worked on getting everything in order, what he'll say, what he'll do the day he finally drops the question. As well of course getting ahold of the thing needed to make this even possible...The ring.
He could of easily just bought one already made, but was determined to get you one unique and worth wearing always...
You were his sunshine, so naturally he worked with someone to get a sun themed designed ring made for you.
It looked perfect to him, how he imagined it to look, even better now that it was made into reality. But he wondered if you would like it...If you didn't, you both could always go out buy another one together but...He hopes you do like it, or keep it.
Also he hopes you actually say yes to this all, of course...You teased him too many times about this to back out now. How cruel would it be if you said you didn't want to marry him after all, but...He feels confident you'll say yes.
Is that bad?
He feels it is, but...He's the damn Grim Reaper. Whatever he wants, he gets, so naturally he's going to have you as his bride. He won't take no for a answer now! You are his after all!
"...Damn it." He mutters under his breath as he covers his face with hands. Leaning back on the couch, before letting his hands drop to stare up at the ceiling.
He loves you too much to force such a thing on you. So of course he wouldn't make you say yes or force you into marrying him now.
Though if you were to say no to marrying him...He'd be upset, but wouldn't give up on you. He'll try again next time, many times over if he must...He is persistent like that after all, you knew him to be after all.
He lets out a small sigh. As he continues to look up at the ceiling, getting lost in thought.
He never experienced such a mix of intense emotions before until you came around. He should make you pay for making him suffer this much he feels...Though he wouldn't dare ask for it to stop, or for you to leave his side ever now.
He's grown too attached to you, too in love with you...Spending the rest of immortal life with you. Spending it with someone who drives him absolutely crazy now.
Yeah...That sounds like the best thing ever to him now. Especially because it was you.
He can't help but smile a little just from the thought of spending forever with you. The idea of officially calling you his now, and you calling him yours.
His smile grows more, as his heart starts to dance over the idea alone.
Then his heart skips a beat when he hears the front door unlocking and opening. Snapping him back to reality.
You're home.
He started to feel nervous again, but he took a deep breath in and slowly out. Building himself up for this moment.
"You got this, Casper...Just as we planned."
Once he felt ready to see you, he finally moved in to greet you back home with a hug and kiss. A ritual of yours now whenever you got back from work, or anywhere in fact now.
Though already you could tell something was wrong or different today. The light blush on Casper's face said it all.
"Welcome home, Sunshine. Listen...I know you just got back from work and you're tired I'm sure. But..."
He took your hands in his, too shy to make direct eye contact with you in the moment, but he did his best to sound and act brave. Even though his heart was pounding hard already from this all alone.
"Can we go out for a moment together? There's somewhere I want to take you to."
#a date with death#a date with death casper#a date with death grim#grim x mc#casper x mc#casper x reader#casper x y/n#casper x you#grim x reader
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Remember that little mid-Pusher fic I wrote a few days ago?
It's still haunting me. So bad.
All I can think about his Mulder's thumb lingering on the corner of her mouth and I feel like I will suffocate if I don't get it out, so have a taste of what I am now compelled to write.
———
She doesn't want to kiss him like this is the last time she will ever get to see his face, but her lips part, her body arches into his, and he leans against her more and more. Even when Mulder moves his thumb from the corner of her mouth to stroke her cheek, a gesture as familiar as it is calming, she cannot forget about the dawning reality that he might be about to die.
His mouth tastes like the spearmint chewing gum she keeps in her purse with a faint trace of salted sunflower seeds, and she runs her tongue over his teeth in an effort to map it out—just in case, just in case.
Just in case he walks into that hospital and leaves strapped to a gurney, cold and lifeless. Right now, he is warmer than the blood running through her veins and the blush spreading across her cheeks; his grasp on her is both gentle and desperate, willingly taking and swallowing the silent pleas streaming from her mouth.
"Scully."
It's a breathless whisper lost in the panic blooming in her chest, a fear so cold it burns away any rational thought, reducing her to screaming instincts and pure, unfiltered want.
"Scully," Mulder tries again, her name pressed against her own lips so she feels it more than she hears it, but she can't listen to him, not yet. When he creates a tiny pocket of space between their bodies, one of her hands leaves his hair and fists his shirt with white knuckles and scratching nails. Mulder's mouth wanders, and so does hers, still refusing to part.
It's stupid, it's childish, it's borderline immature—it's everything she hates being, a completely new kind of vulnerability leaving her confused and off-balance. Tethering her to the ground beneath their feet is not the force of gravity but Mulder, who never leaves her orbit. No matter how many miles might separate them, she can always sense his presence: in the air, the lights blanketing the city, in the black ink pressed into the paper of their files, deep within her body buried in the marrow.
"Dana, please," he says softly, an exhale ghosting over her skin, and she finally breaks away with a gasp.
#alex watches x files#txf#the x files#x files#dana scully#fox mulder#scully x mulder#mulder x scully#msr#it's midnight and my meds are kicking in so if anything sounds rough thats why
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GymRat!Miguel Part 9.2 | full chapter without breaks on AO3
content warning: more fluff, more laughs, a little bit of insecurity from Miguel and reader, underage drinking (all of the characters are aged 18-20 so by USA standards, that's underaged. but college kids will be college kids. and so will high school graduates.), a mention of an edible like once, Hobie is here! (fr this time), Pavitr too, even more jealous Miguel, 18+ so MNDI, wet wet relations, fellatio, cunnilingus, Miguel is a munch (his fantasies are unraveling finally), cum play if you squint, partially public indecency???, I think that's it
word count: 9.3k, halfway proofread (I split it really weirdly so I apologize for that lol)
Some of the links used in this part are just to give you an idea of what's going on! Enjoy! 🩵
Prev (Part 9.1) | Next ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist
GymRat!Miguel who texts Tyler while you’re in the shower.
Dad…Tyler:
“She really loved it. Thank you so much for helping me out with this, Dad.”
“Any time, son! I’m glad everything went well! I can have my people send over the video form of the animation if you would like.”
“Sure, I can have it on hand.”
“And I take it, you like the yacht?”
“It’s extremely nice! Captain Barrett is pretty cool.”
“Don’t tell him you said that or it’ll go to that funny mustache.”
“Ok 😭”
“I did have a question though.”
“Ask away.”
“What did Kron do to his other boat?”
“What didn’t he do to that boat? He had too many friends on that thing all with a mix of substances I could never dream of combining. Their parents had to come drag them out lest the police get involved. I’ve never helped Kron with any event or party since then. He hasn’t earned it and he embarrassed me greatly.”
“Would you be more comfortable if we held off on the drinks?”
“See son, the difference between you and Kron is that you understand the legal ramifications of doing something so idiotic as having illegal items on a property that isn’t yours as a minor. You also have integrity and respect, something that Kron has lost sight of. I trust that neither you nor your friends will do anything too drastic.”
“Yeah, there’s no crazy stuff happening this weekend.”
“I believe it.”
“Get back to your girlfriend now. Thank you for checking up on your old man. Tell her I said hello.”
“For sure. Good night.”
“Good night!”
GymRat!Miguel who opens his arms up to you as you come out of the bathroom. You hurried to lay in his arms, skin warm from your shower.
You snuggle up under his chin, “Today was really fun.”
“Yeah?” he rubs your head slowly.
“Mm hm. Now, we should sleep.”
A yawn racks through Miguel’s body, the day of driving settling in his bones.
You keep your ear on his chest. The steady tempo of his heart and his breaths lulling you to sleep.
GymRat!Miguel who is still asleep by the time you wake up. You both ended up at opposite ends of the giant bed with just your legs intertwining.
You look over to Miguel and watch his chest rise and fall, his snores crescendoing at each breath.
You lay your head back on the pillow, eyes tracing the shape of his face in this morning light. The water was calm, giving the boat a slight rock. Some seagulls flew by, their sounds fading in and out.
You scoot closer to get a better look, your hand lightly following the line of his face.
His eyes flutter open at your touch, a brown sea welcoming you.
“G’morning,” his voice is terribly deep like this. The timbre shoots straight to your core.
“Morning. I didn’t mean to wake you up,” you whisper.
Miguel moves to lay his head on your chest, taking a deep breath. “It’s fine. The sight made me feel like I went to heaven.”
He pulled you closer by the waist, “Ten more minutes?”
“Rest up all you need, bear-bear.”
GymRat!Miguel who is just as excited as Gabriel when he gets to the deck that morning. The agenda was swimming with the dolphins before everyone else got here.
Miguel and Gabriel were practically buzzing in their matching wetsuits. Dana snuck in a video laughing at the twin looks on their faces.
GymRat!Miguel who sneaks glances at your form on the way to the dolphin center. You’re leaning over the edge of the smaller boat, the wind against your face. The wetsuit was doing wonders for the curve of your figure.
GymRat!Miguel who ends up going into a nerd session about dolphins with Gabriel. Both of them are spitting out dolphin facts at the speed of light.
“I just think that if you were to be any dolphin, it’s so obvious that you would be an orca.”
“But why, though? Because I’m big? That’s a new low, even for you, Gabri.”
“No, it’s because you’re mixed, obviously. Killer whale aka orca aka dolphin. Duh, Miguelito.”
“Don’t ‘duh’ me because that doesn’t even make sense. Orcas are still classified as dolphins even though they look like whales.”
“Just like you-”
“I’m going to smack you off the side of this boat if you finish that sentence.”
“Resulting to violence just like a killer whale, what a shame.”
“You’re so annoying. Orcas are smart, they speak different languages based on their pod, and the name was actually ‘whale killers,’ not ‘killer whales.’ That would make me an orca, but I would not be one because I would never take care of my family but abandon my children.”
“A lot of male dolphins abandon their families. A lot of them hang out with the bros and come back.”
“Female dolphins can do the hard work of carrying babies from ten to eighteen months, so enlighten me, Gabri. What are the male dolphins doing with the bros?”
Gabriel squinted his eyes and put his finger up weakly, “This is a trick question.”
“No it’s not! Don’t you know the answer?” Miguel put his hands out, as if waiting for a physical object to be presented.
“I do know the answer, which is why I don’t want to give you the satisfaction.”
“Well, now I want to know because you two nerds wouldn’t shut up about bottlenose dolphins just five minutes ago,” Dana scoffs as she takes off her shades, the morning sun too much for her.
“That’s not the same energy you had last night when I-”
“No one wants to hear that.”
“Shut up, Miguel,” Gabriel snaps back. “They take care of other dolphin babies. And sometimes become friends with benefits with their homies.”
Dana makes a disgusted face, “And you’re defending that? Wow. So when I have your kid you’re going to leave me and go do fuck all with Pavitr?”
“No, Dana, I would never do that! We discussed this! Miguel is going to study seahorses, make me a safe mutation, and I’ll carry them for you!”
“I don’t even study genetics so I have no clue what you’re talking about.”
“So you wouldn’t carry her babies?” Gabriel gestures towards you in a panic.
Miguel looks towards you at the front of the boat, watching the water go by.
He thought of you as a mom, carrying his kid, holding their hand in the park, picking decor for the nursery.
He thought of you under him, taking everything he could give you and more. You screaming his name as the bed creaks loud enough to fill the hallway.
“I would, but that’s not the question right now.”
“Why did it take you so long to answer that?” Gabriel’s tone was high.
“Oh my god, he was thinking of getting her pregnant,” Dana says in horror.
“Oh, so I have to listen to your escapades, but I can’t even daydream in silence?”
GymRat!Miguel who listens intently to the staff. No harm shall come to any dolphin on his behalf.
GymRat!Miguel who makes friends with one of the cute dolphins. Her name is Dotty because of the few spots she has on her body.
She immediately gravitates towards Miguel. Her blowhole squeals constantly whenever Miguel talks to her.
“Well I think Dotty is in love!” the instructor yells from across the enclosed water.
GymRat!Miguel who laughs at Dana who keeps getting splashed on by the baby dolphins.
GymRat!Miguel who looks so cute with his nose touching Dotty’s rostrum. They’re spinning in circles with Dotty clicking away like a cat purring.
GymRat!Miguel who watches you interact with one of the bigger dolphins whose name is Mon.
“Mon and Dotty are a couple, but he’s a little sad today because Dotty isn't giving him any attention,” the instructor says with a giant pout on her face.
Even Mon’s clicks sounded sad and Miguel didn’t know how that was possible.
Mon places his chin on your shoulder and you’re immediately in love, rubbing his body and consoling him and his broken heart.
“It’s ok, Mon. You can hang out with me,” you say in a sweet voice. Mon’s fins squeezed you even tighter.
A sweater, some random guys, Dana, Blake, and now a dolphin. Miguel can’t win.
GymRat!Miguel who watches Mon click and spin happily when you feed him fish for doing a trick.
“That was so good, Monie!” you pat his head, and he leans into your hands.
GymRat!Miguel who thinks Dotty and Mon are a bit like you and him. They’re twirling in the water together, rubbing their bodies close.
GymRat!Miguel who sits with you on the boat ride back, watching the dolphins race with the boat halfway to the yacht.
GymRat!Miguel whose eyebrows raise when he sees one of your friends as you guys step off the boat.
“Hobie!” you squeal, running to hug the lanky figure.
“My girl! How have you been, love?” he asks, a deep London accent lining his words.
Love?
“I’m so happy you made it! How’s the apprenticeship? Any new techniques to share?”
“A lot more than techniques, if you know what I mean?” Hobie leaned on you as he snickered away.
Miguel might pop a fuse.
GymRat!Miguel who lingers by as you chat away with Hobie. The two of you are catching up for a while and Miguel wants to walk back to the room with you so you can help him take off this tight wetsuit.
He’s lightly kicking at a puddle with his arms crossed when you call his name.
“This is my boyfriend, Miguel,” you say, coming up to him and wrapping an arm around his.
“He’s a big one, innit?” Hobie says, holding his hand out. “Hobie Brown.”
Miguel shook it with a sturdy hand, “Miguel O’Hara. Nice to meet you.”
“How long have you known this firecracker for?” Hobie gestured to you with a smile.
“It’ll be a year once August hits. The best ten months of my life, honestly,” Miguel says, leaning down to kiss your temple.
“She’s got you wrapped ‘round her finger, yeah?” Hobie smirked at the love drunk look on Miguel’s face. “Yeah, you’re a goner. That’s just how she is. One encounter and it’s hard to let go.”
Hobie went to pick up his one backpack, a master at light travel from how much he’s moving.
“Don’t let me stop yous two from partying. See ya in an hour, love,” Hobie said walking away.
You look up at Miguel, “The best ten months?”
“Yep. Love?”
“It’s a British thing. He’s friendly!”
“Hm.”
“And definitely demisexual.”
“Hmph.”
“You’re very territorial.”
“For good reason.”
GymRat!Miguel who makes it to the boardwalk after he’s changed to greet their friends and guide them to the yacht.
There’s a lot of you, especially from Gabriel and Dana’s graduating class. Miguel greets everyone warmly.
It feels good to unite his old friends and newer friends together.
GymRat!Miguel who makes a plan to be the best at every activity on the agenda today. Yeah, he wanted to have fun, but for some reason, he felt like he had something to prove.
He walks back out to the top deck to see Hobie laying out on the flat slats under the shade. His arms are crossed and his shades are hiding his full expression.
From here, Miguel can hear Blake chatting it up with some of the girls that are hanging out near the on-deck pool. He looks over the edge and sees him grinning from ear to ear as the girls giggle. He clicks his teeth at the scene.
“Big Migs, c’mere for a sec, will ya?” Hobie said.
“He’s a bit chatty, that one. An overachiever if I’ve ever seen it.”
On second thought, Miguel might like Hobie a lot.
“All morning, he’s been spitting nothing but rubbish. Going on and on about the boat and the city and his socials. Nothing of substance, just straight air.”
Miguel snickered, “It feels like that’s all he’s got going for himself. His daddy’s boat, his daddy’s money, and his face.”
Miguel recounts the events from last afternoon. How he lacked respect for not only him but for you and your personal space.
“Not gonna lie, I’d smash his head in,” Hobie replied calmly.
Miguel let out a hearty laugh, “I wanted to and honestly, I could, but there are several circumstances stopping me. Such as the fact that we’re on his dad’s property.”
“But deep it, when’s the next time you’ll need to be on this thing?”
Miguel is about to respond in agreement when you round the corner from the stairs.
“There you two are!”
You smile at the two of them, “Are you guys getting along? Has Hobie convinced you to join him on some scheme across the country?”
Miguel took a deep breath before responding. He knew what outfits you brought with you, a lot of them matched his own, but it was still like new whenever you put them on.
He didn’t have enough time in the world to cherish your beauty.
“They’re not schemes, baby, they’re elaborate plans,” Miguel responds.
“Man like, Migs!” Hobie hops up and drags his arm around Miguel’s shoulders.
You shake your head with a warm smile on your face, laughing at Hobie’s antics.
“And you look stunning. Though, I’m not too sure if it’s fit for hoverboarding.”
“That’s because I’m jet skiing and shaking ass, Hobie. You guys can have fun flipping in the air.”
“Right on, then. Migs and I have important business to attend to.”
Miguel nods, “Extremely important.”
You eyed them both, “Uh huh.” They left in a controlled frenzy, Hobie pulling his wicks up with a giant band and Miguel cracking his neck.
You didn’t even want to know.
GymRat!Miguel who is a bit peeved that Blake has to give the water hoverboard demonstration. He’s staying up there longer than necessary, grabbing girls to balance them in the middle of his board while he flips them around.
You’re standing next to Miguel during it all, waiting for Miguel’s turn so you can get a video.
“Hey!” Blake yells out in your direction. “Wanna take it for a spin?”
You shake your head and yell back, “No, I’m good!”
“Just three minutes! Don’t be scared! I won’t drop you.”
“No thanks,” you bite back, voice irritated.
Blake smiles with a hand on his hip, ready to convince you, when Hobie pipes up, “The lady said no. Can we move on?”
Blake’s face cracked a bit as he told one of the crew members to kill the power in the waterboard.
“What is up with him?” you mumble to yourself.
“I think he likes you,” Pavitr remarked. “He wouldn’t stop asking Gabriel questions about you.”
“He’s really pushing it,” Miguel scoffed. Not only was he being overly flirty to every girl on board, he was adamant about getting your attention. “No wonder he gets along with Kron.”
You sported a twisted lip as you watched him strap up one of Gabriel’s friends. “I don’t know. Even if I was single, he’s a bit too…tiny. Communal.”
The laugh that left Miguel wiped the scowl right off of his face.
GymRat!Miguel who gets the hang of the hoverboard after one try. You’re recording him with a big smile on your face as he tries to spell “love” in the air.
GymRat!Miguel who dies laughing at Gabriel’s horrible attempts at staying in the air. His body keeps shaking like a baby deer and he’s steady yelling in garbled Spanish.
By the time his turn is over, Miguel is laid out on the boardwalk with tears down his face.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Miguel,” Gabriel cries out.
Miguel just rolls and laughs some more.
GymRat!Miguel who watches you expertly drive a jet ski from the edge of the yacht. You’re shouting with one arm in the air as you race Dana and some of her friends.
Miguel leans his head on his hand as he watches you zoom across the ocean. Your skin is glowing, your smile is sparkling, and your laugh is bright.
GymRat!Miguel whose bubble of thoughts involving you, him, the water, some fruit, and a floatie is popped when Blake’s voice pierces through.
“She’s pretty good at that.”
“Yep.” Maybe if Miguel ignored him enough, he’d go away.
“Looks like a dream, too.”
“Are you dumb or something?” Miguel turns his body, gripping the rail to not get in Blake’s face, but extending his height to cower over him.
“Woah,” Blake holds his hands up. “It was a compliment, dude, chill out. You’re not mad at me for finding her beautiful, are you?”
“That’s not what the fuck you’re doing and you know it.”
Blake makes a confused face, laughing off Miguel’s statement, “Kron said you guys were open.”
“Does it look like we’re fucking open?”
“Well, at first-”
“Keep talking and you’ll end up just like him. Knocked out. Do you want that?” Miguel edged closer to him. “Huh?”
Blake bristles, ready to defend himself when his head is knocked to the side.
He looks next to him to see a gaggle of girls all with waterballoons and nerf guns. They yell at him to come on and pick a side.
Blake scrambles to join them.
Miguel is about to follow when Hobie sweeps in front of him, “Cool it.”
GymRat!Miguel who almost takes an edible from Hobie but decides against it.
“The offer is open all weekend.”
“Noted.”
GymRat!Miguel who gets roped into playing some games to start off the night, one of which is Never Have I Ever with shots.
It started off innocently with things like peeing in a pool and cheating on a test to which everyone looked in shock at Miguel when he put a finger down.
“I’m smart but if there’s a group effort to get the right answers, I’m not going to say no.”
Then it went left field and personal with things like threesomes, drunkenly fighting with others, and streaking.
“Never have I ever…received head from a partner!”
A few of the guys put a finger down, groaning out and snickering as they had to take another shot.
Miguel was trying not to dwell on how many experiences he lacked compared to the group, a lot of them younger than him.
He rubbed his tongue across his teeth. He didn’t want to show his irritation on his face.
Looking across the circle, he could see Gabriel’s eyes get wide, staring off beside you.
Miguel followed his line of sight landing on you with a finger down and a shot in your hand.
What the fuck.
Who the fuck beat him to it? Where the fuck did it happen? When the fuck did it happen? How the fuck did he not know?
He’s ready for the game to be over.
“Miguel is putting in work!” one guy pushes his elbow against Miguel’s side, laughing and patting his shoulders.
Well, if people think he did it, it’s not so bad.
“Oh my god, girl, how was it?” Dana’s friend asked you.
Miguel tried his best not to scream bloody murder.
“It was,” you pause, looking up to ponder. “It was something! Not particularly fun or good. My ex wasn’t the best at listening so he just poked at me. I faked everything that night.”
Miguel smirked. There were no big shoes to fill because they were never taken out of the box. Or even out of the store.
“That sucks. I bet he thought you were in heaven.”
You laugh with the girls, joking in a way similar to the women that flooded Miguel’s for-you page.
Miguel stepped away to get a breather. If he stayed any longer, he might do something drastic.
GymRat!Miguel who is leaning on the boat when Gabriel comes to check up on him.
“You ok, Miguelito?”
“Yeah, I’m alright. A little overwhelmed so I need to reset,” Miguel wrung his wrists while he let the sea breeze cool him down.
“Is it the game? Don’t feel so bad,” Gabriel leans closer to Miguel and speaks in a stage whisper. “Some of them are a little too fast for their own good.”
Miguel snickered. Gabriel was definitely tipsy.
“Thanks, Gabri.”
“Anytime. Don’t let them bring you down. You’re my perfect Miguelito. My pure baby!” Gabriel kissed him on the cheek.
“Ugh,” Miguel laughed and wiped at his wet cheek.
“Don’t wipe away at my love, broski.”
GymRat!Miguel who is guided by you in a dance. You’re a little tipsy and giggly, holding onto him as you dance to the music.
Miguel just holds onto your hips and smiles with you.
GymRat!Miguel who is locked in on your body as you grind against him. You’re arching your back and looking at him with a sparkle in your eye and Miguel feels like a wild animal.
When you lean back against him, he whispers in your ear about a private party just for the two of you. You bite your lip and turn to look at him. His eyes are tracing your lips and his hands are groping you.
GymRat!Miguel who laughs at you as you wish everyone a good night quickly.
“I’ll see you guys in the morning!” you shout to your friends as you pull Miguel behind you to the room.
GymRat!Miguel who waits for you on the bed while you use the bathroom.
He’s excited for an intimate night with just you. Parties were fun but it really couldn’t beat the serenity of smaller groups. It especially couldn’t beat talking all night with you.
Everyone else was chilling out in other parts of the yacht, back in their hotel rooms, or night paddle boarding.
You’re in the bathroom staring at the thin fabric in your hand.
Miguel told you that there was a pool involved.
You bought a micro bikini during a surge of confidence. It looked so cute on the model and you wanted to feel the same way.
Now you’re standing in the bathroom freaking out, worried to death over the flimsy material. You were excited about Miguel seeing it, but you couldn’t shake your own nerves about how everything would play out.
A knock at the door makes you jump.
You crack the door and peer up at Miguel.
“You ok in there?” he asked, eyebrows pinched.
“Yeah, I’m ok! I’ll be out in just a sec!”
You bite the bullet and place the bikini on.
You didn’t account for your areolas to poke out beyond the triangles. You bit your lip as you turned to check out your backside.
At least your ass looked great.
In a nervous motion, you pull your coverup over you and pull your hair up so that it doesn’t get too ruined by the water. It was now or never.
GymRat!Miguel who holds your hand as he guides you to the private area. You’re squeezing his hand so tight.
One of the stewardesses smiles as she sees you two coming. She stands next to a rope cutting off the area.
“Good evening to you both! I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay so far,” her voice is polite and even. “Tonight, it’ll be just you two enjoying the Galaxy. If you need anything, just press the call button on the wall and I’ll be right down.”
She unlatches the rope and holds her arm out in the direction of the stairs.
You both slowly descend, careful not to slip on the trippy-looking wood.
Taking a step into the room, Miguel stares in awe at the glowing pool.
There’s petals fluttering about, small fairy lights surround the corners to add extra light. Looking up, you both can see the night sky with the stars adorning it.
“This is beautiful,” you say, the lights surrounding you glittering in your eyes.
You were staring at the stars and the lights but Miguel couldn’t help but to think that you were the most beautiful part of the room.
He said this much to you, watching as you bent your head down hiding the smile on your face. Miguel lifted it back up and kissed you under the light of the stars.
“Ready?”
“Yeah, let me just go take this off.”
You walk towards a chair with folded towels placed on it.
“Miguel, these have our names on them!” you say with shock, running your fingers over the embroidered letters. Hearts surrounded the names and you felt fuzzy from the implication of the stewardess preparing this.
“Yeah, I heard it was a part of the couple’s bundle,” he shouts from the pool. It wasn’t really a part of the bundle, but Miguel suggested it way before the trip.
His back was turned to you, trying to set up a speaker by the pool.
The moment was perfect, so you opened a champagne bottle and poured two glasses. You took a huge gulp of one and removed your slip.
GymRat!Miguel who hears you entering the water, so he hurries to pick out a song.
The mood needs to be right.
He turns to you and nearly drowns at the sight. (Art is not affiliated with this fic, but I couldn't find any plus-size women in real life on Pinterest with this type of bikini! Please give this artist some love, I love their art!)
You’re coming down the stairs with two glasses in your hand and your skin on full display. The strings are digging tight into your skin and your breasts are practically spilling out from every side.
Miguel is stunned.
“Come grab your drink, Miguel,” your voice is like butter in his ears.
His eyes don’t leave you as he swims across the pool. The only sounds that could be heard are the water moving around him and the music playing. When he gets closer, he stands up, water dripping down his body. He’s breathing hard and is laser-focused on your frame.
You feel an array of emotions. You feel like running, jumping, maybe hiding. His gaze is too heavy and he hasn’t spoken a word yet.
You don’t know how long you two stare at each other before Miguel breaks the tension, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
He takes the glasses from your hand with one hand and picks you up in the other. You cling to him as he goes to the edge of the pool, places one glass down and chugs the other.
In a flash, you’re sitting on the edge and he’s holding his body out of the water in order to kiss you.
He pushes your mouth open, pulling at your lip with his teeth. He was desperate, wanting more.
Your hands find your way to his hair, the tips wet from his swim. You card your fingers through his locks, opening your mouth wider as Miguel groans onto your tongue.
He can’t stop, body moving forward the deeper the kisses get. Your legs open wider and your hands fall down Miguel’s back. You go lower than usual, pushing your hands under his swimsuit, fingertips grazing over the skin of his ass.
Miguel parts, spit-ridden mouth red and messy.
“You’re making this so hard for me,” he says against your lips. You’re both panting into each other’s mouths.
Your body feels like jelly. The way that he’s looking at you fills you with desire, “Making what hard?” You’re quivering and clenching as his eyes seem to get darker.
“Baby,” Miguel kisses the corner of your lips then your jaw. He moves to where your jaw and neck connect, licking “Amor. I can’t.”
You move your head, encouraging him to continue, “You can if you want to.”
“No, I’m supposed to take this slow,” his mouth moved to your collarbone, sucking at the skin as you squeezed your thighs around him. “I need to take this slow.”
He gets to your breasts, pressing your nipples through the material and watching as your areolas poked out more. “Mierda.”
You try to talk as Miguel takes one breast into his mouth, “It’s ok to want more. I want, ugh, I want you to take more.” He pulls at your nipple, watching as it rises more through the fabric. His thumb traces it, causing you to twitch in his hold.
He continues to rub over the fabric as he kisses down your stomach. The string is wrapping around your stomach like a gift just for him.
“Tomorrow, baby,” he says into your skin. “I’ll take more tomorrow.”
He needed to stop before he broke the promise he made to himself.
He hears you whine as he gets eerily close to your sex before jerking his body straight.
“Why?” you sound so needy and broken.
“Because,” he kisses your pout away. “Tomorrow, I’m going to take all I need. You just need to trust me. Please.”
You nod your head, heart pounding with his words.
GymRat!Miguel who lets you persuade him into swapping places. All it took was a few blinks of your eyes and Miguel was swooning.
“I saw you walk away during the game today. I wanted to make sure that the next time you play, you’re able to put a finger down.”
That’s what you told him with a sweet smile on your face.
Now you’re rubbing up his thighs and Miguel is about to pass out from the view of you peering up at him. Your eyes were foggy and the slope of your neck to your chest was glistening. From this angle, Miguel could see the curve of your ass with the bikini barely covering it.
You run your hands down his chest, fingers dancing along the slopes and planes, leaving a wet trail in your wake. Miguel’s stomach tightens as you make it below his belly button, the sensation of your fingertips across his happy trail building a fury in his core.
You kiss him through his swimsuit causing him to jump.
You hold his thighs and tilt your head to lean on one, “Are you nervous, Miggy?” Your knuckles rake against his groin, lingering in spots that made his inner thighs clench the most.
“I,” Miguel is trembling like a leaf. He can barely get the words out from how much energy he's using to hold himself up. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” You lift your body from the water a little, pressing your tits closer to his clothed sex. “Baby, I need you to know. I can’t go further without your permission.”
Miguel feels like he could cum right now.
“I’m really nervous, but I want to experience this.”
You hum as you start to pull at his waistband. His eyes scrunch closed as his dick springs up.
You’re met with a sight you had missed. The size is still as intimidating as the last time.
You rub his thighs and give yourself a quiet pep talk. You were determined to make your boyfriend feel good.
Miguel looks back down at you and swallows dryly, anxious at the look in your eyes and your silence, “If it’s too much, w-we can stop here-”
“No.”
The first lick of his tip has Miguel rising off of the pool edge, pre-cum escaping him.
He whines, embarrassed at his lack of control, but his dick is twitching from the sensation.
“Miguel,” your hands are back on his hips at a flimsy attempt to hold him down. “You need to be careful, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby right now.” Miguel’s voice is winded like he’s been running a marathon.
You look up at him. His mouth is twisted up and his eyebrows are furrowed. His stomach keeps shaking and his elbows don’t know if they want to bend or extend. When he looks down at you, he lets out a whimper, dick jerking against his will.
You hold your lips right above the head, the heat of it making you excited, “Baby.”
Miguel jerks again as you take his tip into your mouth, more of his pre-cum slipping out. His body is wound tight and he’s losing sense of it. Your mouth is so warm and he’s crying out from just you suckling along the head. He would be grateful with just this alone.
You push yourself lower, mouth adjusting to the widening girth. You don’t know if it’s the champagne combined with the other drinks you’ve had today, but the taste is making your mind fuzzy.
You hum as you move your tongue along the underside of his length, his essence melting into your mouth. Miguel continues to twitch against your lips.
You look up and he just groans when his eyes connect with yours.
“P-pretty,” he stutters out, brain-to-mouth filter completely disintegrating. One of his arms covers his mouth as he fights to quiet down. There’s no telling what the stewardess could hear from above.
You decided to go deeper, wanting to hear him some more. You make it halfway down before you grip his shaft and give it a few semi-dry pumps.
Miguel just about shouts at the sensation, legs jerking enough to splash the water around you.
Satisfied with the reaction, you release him with a pop and slide your tongue down to the base, trying to get him as wet as possible for what you’re about to attempt to do. You pucker your lips to leave wet kisses all over his shaft, sucking occasionally.
All Miguel can do is whimper and shake.
You hold him, sliding your hand up and down, applying pressure whenever you glide over the top, “You can hold on to me.”
Miguel shakes his head and releases his bottom lip from his teeth to speak, but his words are jumbled up in a heated mess.
“Say it again, Miguel. I don’t understand,” you bring your mouth to the head again, this time, cupping his balls as you slide back down.
Early spurts of cum land in your mouth as Miguel uselessly grips at the flat ground. He’s moaning out your name and if you weren’t sliding him down your throat, you would think he’s crying for you.
“I-I don’t wanna hurt you,” Miguel takes heavy breaths in the middle of his sentence.
Even like this he was oh so sweet. You don’t push it and continue on.
As you reach the hilt, you force yourself to relax, thumb pressed against your fisted palm. He was heavy on your tongue and you needed to find the right pace.
You slowly move your head up and down, lips wet with spit and slick. You build a steady tempo that has Miguel involuntarily moving his hips and moaning in a senseless manner.
He was conflicted, core heated at the sound of your throat barely taking him, but wanting to pull you off so you don’t choke all because of him. Hot tears ran down his face as you didn’t let up.
He chooses the latter, foggy mind coming to a decision. His shaky hands reach towards your face, your cheeks hallowed and eyes closed. His hands make it to your cheeks when you reach the hilt again and swallow around his head.
Miguel scares himself with the moan he lets out.
You panic as you swallow his load, mouth completely full.
Miguel hurries to pull you off, “Shit! Baby, I’m so sorry!”
“It’s ok,” you cough as you try to catch your breath. Drips of him that you didn’t swallow falling to your chest. “I wish you would have told me you were about cum, though.”
“I didn’t know!” he’s red in the face. “God, I’m so sorry!”
“Was it good, though?” You look up at him with lips and sparkling eyes. You’re holding your tits up so that his cum wouldn’t get in the pool.
Miguel’s dick twitches like it’s trying to wake back up again. You notice it and a grin plants itself right onto your face.
“Do you really have to ask me that?”
“Yes, Miggy.”
“I think my embarrassing finish was enough but yes, you made me feel good. It was way more than good. Now come out of the pool before you get any more ideas.”
“It wasn’t embarrassing!” you reply as Miguel picks you up from the water and on his stomach while lays back. “‘Was kinda hot. You felt so good that you couldn’t wait.”
You slide your finger over your cleavage to pick up the leftover essence and plop right in your mouth.
Miguel grips your thighs as he looks up at you, “No, stop that, you vixen.”
You’re going to be the death of him for sure.
GymRat!Miguel whose legs are like jelly when you help him up from the ground. His thighs haven’t shaken this much since his first leg day almost five years ago.
“Do you need to lie down on the beach chair for a minute?” you ask with genuine concern.
“Yeah, I think I need a second,” Miguel says, trying his best not to put his entire weight onto you.
GymRat!Miguel who watches you watch him from the pool. You’re at the edge, leaning over and smiling at him while you let your body float.
“Next time, I want to get, like, really hoarse. We should work on your resistance and my tolerance. Oh! And maybe we can do that thing where I hold your-”
“Amor, please. Let’s talk about this when I’m not halfway dying,” Miguel groans, dick half hard. “How are you so good at this anyway?”
“Practice! With my ex and like one other fling. They weren’t nearly as responsive as you, though.”
Miguel squints at your figure.
“Or fun. Or satisfying. Or tasty. Or big. Can I do it one more time, Miggy?”
Miguel stares at you for a minute or two then groans, “Come on.”
You leave the water and walk over to him with glee.
GymRat!Miguel who grabs lightly onto your head this time, fingers twitching occasionally. His legs are parted and you’re laid out on the horizontal part of the beach chair. Miguel is constantly looking from your face to your ass, experiencing a sensation overload. You take it easy on him this time, saving some of your tricks and things you wanted to try for a later date.
The room is filled once again with Miguel’s grunts and whimpers plus your mouth and throat molding unto him.
GymRat!Miguel who warns you this time. You let go with a pop and let him paint your open mouth. He shudders as you look at him through it all, pumping him slowly until he can't take anymore. A lonely tear escaped him, eyes heavy and chest heaving.
GymRat!Miguel who barely makes it back up the stairs. He gives the stewardess a polite smile but you can barely look at her for longer than a second.
“It was really lovely,” you say leaning into Miguel’s side, voice a little gone.
“Yeah, amazing,” Miguel snickers. You nudge him at the back of his leg causing him to stagger a bit.
The stewardess just laughs and wishes you both a good night.
GymRat!Miguel who sleeps like a log that night. His soul needed to rejuvenate.
GymRat!Miguel who wakes up a new man. He feels like he can conquer the world. As of now, the world is a new set of water activities with their friends.
He kisses you on the cheek in your sleeping state makes his way out to the deck, wanting to do some morning stretches and yoga if he could fit it in.
He walked out to see Dana talking to Blake, an indifferent look on her face.
“I just can’t believe he would lie to me like that, you know? Like that’s fucked up. Here I was, ready to get something and he set me up.”
“Yeah, no. That really sucks,” Dana replies with a big yawn.
“I mean, I thought we were bros. I thought-”
“Miguel! My knight in shining armor,” Dana practically screams when she spots Miguel.
Blake tenses up so that if he mimics a timid raccoon.
“Morning,” Miguel walks up to them.
Blake breaks out into a sweat, “Hey man, I’m sorry about last night. I would have never done that stuff if I knew. I don’t know why Kron told me you guys were open.”
“I think you need some new friends and better social cues,” Miguel brushed Blake off and walked with Dana onto the boardwalk.
“Thank god you got here. That was his fourth iteration of ‘bro code should be respected.’ I was going to start screaming if he kept talking.”
GymRat!Miguel who lets Dana guide him in a mini yoga class on the beach. It’s pretty nice with the waves crashing and the birds squawking occasionally.
GymRat!Miguel whose downward dog pose is almost disrupted by you whistling from a spot in the sand.
You and Gabriel had snuck up on Miguel and Dana, cackling like hyenas.
“Baby, I think you can go deeper,” you shout over the waves, encouraging Miguel to stretch.
“Gross,” Gabriel shudders.
GymRat!Miguel who wants to use you for a flying pose but you refuse.
“I’m not walking back with sand up my back.”
“Can we try it later, though?” Miguel pouted.
“On safe carpet, yes.”
GymRat!Miguel who settles for a forward fold with you. You stretch your body across his back as he reaches down to touch his toes.
It’s nice until you both switch positions.
“I think I’m dying,” you gasp out. You sound like an old man on his last breath.
“No, you’re not. You just need more practice,” Miguel chides from above.
“When will I ever need this pose in life?”
“Flexibility is good for you!” Miguel replies after a while.
“Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“I didn’t do anything!”
GymRat!Miguel who tilts his head at your breakfast plate piled with pineapples.
“You don’t want an omelet?”
“Maybe later.”
GymRat!Miguel who joined any group activity he could.
From the inflatable water obstacle course,
which Gabriel cheated on by the way,
To the boat tour, he got so many pictures for you for his rotating home screen,
To the banana boat rides that he almost lost his life on. It took you, Gabriel, and Dana to hold onto him.
GymRat!Miguel who surprises you with a “rooftop” dinner on the horizon on the highest part of the yacht. You’re wearing that same green dress that made him go crazy in the dressing room.
“This is so gorgeous, Miguel,” you sigh as you take in the small scene.
From up here, you could see the breathtaking view of the ocean and the city. The sun was close to setting, people were out and about, and the group was partaking in last-minute activities like parasailing and water walking with bubble balls but you could only focus on the glow around Miguel.
“Did you enjoy this weekend?”
You nod your head, shy with attention, “I really did. I had so much fun.”
“Even with boys that don’t understand the word ‘no’?”
“When I have my strong boyfriend there to defend me, what is there to be afraid of?” you smile at him.
Miguel sits up straighter at that, chest puffing out.
You laugh at his state, “Seriously, though. This was one of the best summers ever. I’m really glad Mr. Stone arranged this and I’m even more glad that you brought me along.”
“Of course I did. You’re my girl. Mi amor, mi luz,” Miguel reached out to run your hand. “I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”
Like a flower unfurled, your heart took in his words. You leaned across the table until you could brush your lips with his, only the sun peeking through the two of you.
You let go and lean back a little. “I’m not letting go of you either. I want you by my side,” you say, eyes panning back and forth between his.
“And that’s where I’ll stay.”
GymRat!Miguel who covers your eyes on the way back to the room.
You’re whining because you don’t have nearly as much planned for him as he always does for you.
“Amor, you could just text me an emoji and I would be happy. You deserve good things. Don’t worry about me.”
GymRat!Miguel who wraps his arm around you as you open your eyes to the room.
It’s lit with soft lights, decorated lightly with rose petals in the shape of a heart on the ground, and a banner full of pictures with the two of you. Pictures from outside of lab, pictures of you with oil paint on your face, pictures of him piled with notes in the study lab.
Pictures of you both on your early dates, pictures of you looking at him in the car, pictures where he’s kissing your face off.
You gasp at the scene, feet stuck in the entryway.
“Surprise,” Miguel says into your ear, kissing the top of it.
“I don’t think I have any tears left,” your voice is watery enough to dispute that lie.
GymRat!Miguel who kisses you deeply in the middle of the rose heart. You’re cradling his face with one hand and rubbing your thumb across his sideburn with another.
You’re so wrapped up in his arms and his presence that you miss his question.
“Can you do what?”
Miguel’s hands find their way to your ass, pulling you even closer, “Can I please eat you out?”
When you stare at him with your eyebrows raised, it only pushes him to continue.
“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I’ve dreamed about it, researched how to do it, studied it, daydreamed about it. I need to do it before I go crazy.”
He bent down to get on his knees, hands never letting go of your body.
“Please, baby. If you’ll allow me, I really want to make you feel good.”
At first, all you could think was that Dana was right and definitely a girl’s girl. Then, you looked down at Miguel whose head was pressed up against your torso, eyes pleading with you.
You ran your hand through his hair, “You need to do it?”
“Uh huh,” he nodded, nuzzling into your body through your dress.
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to fake my reactions for you.” You didn’t have the heart to lie to him like that, especially when he’s looking at you like that.
“You won’t have to,” Miguel mumbles into your skin. “I’m confident, but if something is weird, stop me immediately.”
GymRat!Miguel who doesn’t give you time to think when you whisper out an “ok.” He’s picking you up by the legs and plopping you on the bed.
Like a switch, he’s kissing down your body, pulling at the stretchy green fabric to expose your skin. He’s crowding your space in the most desired way possible, a fire building within him.
“Miguel, the dress isn’t going to come off like that,” you say, internally laughing at Miguel tugging to no avail.
He starts to pull so hard that you can hear threads ripping. Before you can stop him, there’s a makeshift slit up your thigh.
You lean up on your elbows and give Miguel a look. He just stares sheepishly and lets you stand up to pull the dress off.
“You gotta be more patient baby,” you purred, bending down to kiss his lips.
When you lean back, you move backwards to sit on the bed. It’s just you, your black panties, and a hungry Miguel at your feet.
The further you inch up the bed, the more Miguel crawls to be closer to you.
“Can I kiss you?” he breathes into your mouth, eyes never leaving yours.
“Please.”
Miguel melts into your skin, mouth molding to a familiar shape. His breaths are heavy and sporadic, too excited to finally know what you feel like on his tongue.
You reach to pull his shirt off, wanting to feel his chest against yours, wanting to feel the expanse of his back while he pressed up against you. Miguel follows your movements without letting up.
He sighed into your lips with pleasure as he let his hand flow down your body, grabbing a breast to massage. You hummed into his mouth, legs parting to bring him closer. Eager to please, Miguel slipped his shorts below his bulged, grinding against you.
You start to wrap your legs around his waist before Miguel interrupts you with a sturdy hand under your knee, and a promise to devour you to your neck.
GymRat!Miguel who groans when he slides your panties down your legs. The slope of your thick thighs to your ass has Miguel ready to burst.
He gets on his knees to maneuver your legs up into your arms. You peek up at him over your knees, your wet cunt kissing the air.
He licks his lips at the sight, taking a tentative touch at your wet lips.
You jump at the sensation, the feeling of Miguel seeing you this vulnerable new.
He bends down to kiss them, hands on the back of your thighs for extra support. Your core flutters as he takes a few more kisses to your sex, tongue reaching out to trace from the bottom to the top. At the first taste, Miguel is groaning into you, sending vibrations through your body.
You sigh out in bliss as your grip loosens on your legs. Miguel flattens his body on the bed and spreads your legs wide, tongue continuing to savor the taste of you.
At this angle, Miguel pushes his tongue in between your folds, feeling your warmth around him. He laps at your entrance slowly causing you to flutter around him and reach for his hair.
He slurps up the juices that try to escape him causing you to moan out his name. He just hums in response, breaching further inside. The more noises he makes, the wetter you get. The room is full of the sound of him lapping everything he gave you and your quiet moans.
“Miguel,” your breath hitched as he swiped over a particular spot. You look down at Miguel whose eyes are closed and hands are tight on your thighs. You feel a building heat seeing how much of a trance he’s in.
Just when you feel a bud sprouting within you, he directs his attention towards your clit, searching until he finds it. At the first skim across it, your hips are bucking up off the bed. Miguel is quick to hold you down, placing his weight on your thighs and lapping continuously at the pearl.
“Fuck!” you shout, hitting the mattress. You’re writhing beneath him, unable to control your body. “Don’t stop, Miguel, please.”
Miguel groans through it all, lapping up every drop.
“Baby, I’m gonna-” a scream pushes through you as your body shakes with pleasure. Miguel takes it like a champ, slurping like you were his last meal.
As you twitch with aftershocks, Miguel barely gives you time to recover before he’s diving back into your entrance. You let out a sob, still sensitive and quivering as your legs move too close before Miguel growls and wraps his arms around your thighs to keep them open.
He’s sinking into you, moving his tongue at a steady pace and sucking in between. Your moans were a pool of words from his name to begging to profanities crescendoing across the air.
Miguel would rarely part for air, adamant on bringing you to the hilt again. Your thighs were tensing up as Miguel kept going, fire building as you grabbed his hair and jerked your hips in time with his movements.
Your climax comes in waves, your hands tighter in his hair and an arch in your back. When you clench over his tongue and your release hits his mouth, Miguel’s eyes start to roll and he’s rubbing his nose against your clit. You yell even louder as Miguel pushes his face incredibly deep into your pussy. He’s rutting into the bed at the sound of your voice, moaning with you.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
The captain swore that the VIP suite was soundproof, but your voice was practically carrying across the yacht.
“She’s getting it good! Just like I promised,” Dana smiles to herself.
“What did you promise? I was the one that gave Miguel tips.” Gabriel moved his headphones aside.
“Oh yeah? And what tips did you give him?” She had her eyebrow raised and a silly smirk on her face.
There was a pause of silence between them, only your voice filling up the space occasionally. Gabriel stared at Dana with a goofy grin.
He reached over and connected his phone to his speaker, putting on his special playlist. “Want to find out?”
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
GymRat!Miguel who has to be pulled off your sex with both of your hands. His eyes are glazed over and his chin is soaked. Every chance you came after the first two times, your body would move up the bed and Miguel was sure to follow.
“Ok, ok, baby,” you heave. Your legs are spasming, a result of the position and Miguel’s willingness to have you cum over and over again.
You were tapping out, body sore and tired.
Miguel left a final long kiss to your clit, a trail of essence following his lips. He kissed up one of your thighs with a hungry look still in his eyes.
“¿Lo hice bien, cariño?” (Did I do it well, baby/darling?)
You trembled at his touch, limbs still heavy and mind in the clouds.
Still, this was the best you’ve felt in a while.
You open your mouth to whisper, “Lo hiciste muy bien.” (You did so good.)
GymRat!Miguel who has to calm down internally at your answer. You don’t talk to him in Spanish often, but when you do, he’s over the moon.
GymRat!Miguel who carries you to the bathroom to clean you off.
“Baby, I can’t walk. You’ll have to carry me for the rest of your life.”
“I’m totally fine with that.”
GymRat!Miguel who shocks you when he says that you don’t need to worry about bringing him relief.
“Amor, I came when you came. After that, it was really all about you.”
“Oh!”
GymRat!Miguel who pats his past self on the back for asking the crew for extra sheets. He had no clue how the evening would go, but something in him told him to be overprepared.
Those old sheets were beyond ruined.
GymRat!Miguel who rubs your legs and stomach with aloe vera lotion after the shower. Not only did he stretch you a little further than you’re used to, but his bite marks left a big impression.
GymRat!Miguel who cuddles you to sleep. If you wore him out the other night, he definitely put you through the ringer. You were gone after three rubs to your back.
GymRat!Miguel who wakes up early with you to send off all of your friends. You’re yawning constantly, tears sticking to the corners of your eyes.
“Someone had a time last night,” Hobie snickers as he walks past with his backpack.
“Shut up, Hobie,” you say, already flustered.
“What? It’s true! If I didn’t know Migs' name before, I sure do now.”
“I’m going to backflip off of this boat.”
GymRat!Miguel who grants Captain Barrett a goodbye, thanking him for letting them use his boat.
“It was a pleasure to host you, Miguel. If you and your girlfriend ever need to, my superyacht is available for any future formal events!” he elbows Miguel with a giant grin, curled mustache moving like it was paid to do so.
“I’ll keep that in mind, Cap.”
For Miguel, the man with the plan, he would grant Mission A: Eat You Out, a huge success and the start of the summer one to remember.
divider by: @iwonbin 🩵
Part 9.1 here!
a/n: And with that, the yacht chapter is finished! I hope you guys enjoyed it and got your life. 🤭 It was both challenging and rewarding to write this GIANT chapter. I hope that you guys have fun with it like I did! I have no idea how the next chapter OR Miguel's Mission B: Virgin No More plan will go, but!!! Hopefully, it will be pleasant regardless! 🤠
ALSO! I have decided to give this drabble that's basically a fic a proper name (mostly for AO3). Do you all have any suggestions?
As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵
If you want to be on the taglist, sign up here! Make sure to have your age in the bio or somewhere on your blog!
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#love lab drabbles 💊#GymRat!Miguel 💪🏾#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara smut#miguel fanfic#miguel o'hara x chubby reader#miguel o'hara x chubby!reader#miguel o’hara x chubby reader#x chubby reader#chubby reader#miguel o’hara x plus size reader#miguel o’hara x plussize!reader#miguel o'hara x plus size reader#plus size reader#x plus size reader#miguel o'hara x fem!reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara x fem!reader#miguel ohara x reader#miguel x you#atsv x reader#spiderman 2099 x reader#spiderman 2099#spiderverse fanart#spiderman 2099 smut#miguel o’hara smut#miguel smut
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Whispering To The Stars
A Charles Leclerc Journal Entry
500 Follower Special!!!
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WC: 650
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Ever since I first saw you at the Monaco Grand Prix, leaning against the pit wall with that eager glint in your eyes, I knew there was something ineffably special about you. You wore excitement like a second skin, draped over your shoulders more naturally than the azure Mediterranean hugged the shores of Monte Carlo. I was drawn to you; inexplicably, irrevocably. In that crowd, amidst the roar of engines and the fervor of the fans, there was a tranquil certainty in your eyes that spoke directly to me.
We flourished in an ephemeral world of speed where every second counted double, both on track and in life. Time was always chasing us, and yet, it seemed we outran it often, stealing moments that were as vivid as the principality's night lights. Our love, much like racing, was intense, passionate, and invariably edged with inherent risks. You understood the stakes, the late nights, the constant travel, but you never complained. Instead, you became my solace, turning our fleeting moments into eternities.
But time, as much as it was our ally in those stolen moments, became our foe. Your dreams didn't merely dance around the peripheries of racetracks; they soared far beyond, into realms where I couldn't always follow. I watched you struggle with choices, torn between your ambitions and what we had. It pained me to see you wrestle with possibilities, and I wished then that time would be kinder to you, would slow down and allow you the breath you so desperately needed.
The season I clinched the championship, the very pinnacle of my career, was ironically when our worlds began to drift apart. My obligations increased, your studies took you to distant shores, and the time zones between us stretched wider than the Atlantic. Calls became sporadic; texts went unanswered. The silence was louder than any engine I had ever tuned.
The last time we were together was under the stars in Barcelona. You had flown in to surprise me, and the night was ours. We talked about the constellations, about your research in astrophysics, and somewhat hesitantly, about us. There was so much I wanted to tell you then, about how I envisioned our future, about how every victory was hollow if not shared with you. But I held back, shackled by an inexplicable fear that voicing these thoughts might jinx what little we were clinging to.
Weeks later, when the call came, I was testing at Fiorano. It was a crisp morning, and I could still taste the remnants of victory from the previous race. My phone rang, an unknown number, and I almost didn’t answer. But I did. The voice on the other end, somber and heavy, told me about the accident. A sudden, cruel twist of fate and just like that, you were gone.
I wish time had been kinder to you, Y/N.
Now, I find myself at many a finish line, but the thrill of victory is muted, the champagne less sweet. The podium no longer a peak, but a plateau. Every star I gaze upon, I hope you're there, watching, perhaps proud. The words I never said now slip quietly into the cool night air, hoping they find you amongst the stars. "I love you," I whisper, "and I miss you."
Every race I win, every trophy I lift, I dedicate to you. For in those fleeting moments of triumph, I am closest to you, suspended in the ephemeral joy we once shared. And as I stand there, amidst the confetti and applause, I tell the stars about my day, about the race, about the world without you. I hope, in some celestial way, they carry my words to you.
I wish I had told you all this when I had the chance. Now, all I have is the hope that wherever you are, time is finally being kind to you.
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Charles Leclerc Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @asparklysoul, @dhanihamidi
F1 Taglist: @hiireadstuff, @donteventry-itdude, @spookystitchery
#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc imagine#cl16 fluff#cl16 fic#cl16#cl16 x reader#cl16 imagine#cl16 x you#cl16 one shot#charles leclerc#f1 charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smut#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#ferrari formula one#ferrari formula 1#formula 1#formula one#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 x female reader#f1 x black!reader#x black fem reader#x black!fem!reader#x reader#x black!reader
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XII. Rooftop Tea
Author: @firelordsfirelady
Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess?
Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader
Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal
Word Count: 1783
Destined to be Yin and Yang
I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.
Author’s Notes
The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16
Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.
See Y/N’s inspiration here.
Standing alone in my bedroom, I grabbed a change of clothes then wrapped them in a towel and tucked it under my arm before I grabbed the handle of the bucket next to my bed. As I opened the door, I was surprised to find Zuko with his hand posed to knock on my door. His face reflected my shock as he looked at me with my supplies.
“Zuko?”
“Where--” Zuko said at the same time as I spoke his name. I closed my mouth as I looked at the Prince standing before me in his Agni Kai attire. It was an impossible task to keep my eyes trained on the golden eyes looking at me when Zuko was standing there wearing only two armbands, pants, and shoes.
Don’t you have someone back home dear Prince? My heart scolded my brain as the thought crossed my mind.
“Where are you going?” Zuko’s question helped to focus my attention on the task at hand. I cleared my throat before I held up my supplies for the Prince to see.
“I’m not going to bed after sweating this much and not taking a bath.” My words were light as I moved to lower the bucket, but Zuko gently grabbed the bucket from me. My eyes widened in embarrassment as my cheeks grew red. “Hey, that’s my bucket.”
“I know.” Zuko’s cheeks were red as he turned to walk away. “Let me prepare the water for you. The water buckets are heavy to carry.” My heart clenched in my chest as the warmth spread from my cheeks to my ears.
“I am capable of doing--”
“I know,” Zuko interrupted me as he started to walk away from me. “Just let me do this for you.”
This feels wrong. I didn’t get to stop Zuko as he walked away. There was a battle raging within between my head and my heart. I wanted to respect it if Zuko had someone waiting for him to return from the banishment, but the way Zuko was acting was confusing. I knew the Prince was a man whose honor meant the world to him. Sighing, I began the walk to the bathroom, and I leaned against the doorway as I watched the Prince dump one last bucket of water into the wooden tub. He looked up at me with bewilderment as he noticed my presence. His cheeks were red as he set the bucket down.
“Thank you, Prince--”
“Zuko.” He looked down as he interrupted me. “Just call me Zuko, and it was nothing.” The Prince lightly moved me out of the way as he left the room.
Is it just nothing? I thought to myself as I bathed in the perfectly hot water. Am I just wanting to believe there’s more?
I dressed quickly after my bath and felt a hundred times better as I walked back to my room, but I paused as I noticed a note taped to my door. Gently detaching it from its place, I opened it to find one sentence written in neat handwriting.
Meet me on the rooftop. -Z
My heart raced as I read the words again to make sure I understood what was written. I ran a brush through my hair and quickly braided it into two side braids, and the bangs I had fell out of the braids in rebellion. I left my clothes in a small pile on the chair before I went to meet Zuko.
Climbing up the ladder, I was surprised to find Zuko sitting down with a blanket over his shoulders. His back was facing toward me and I couldn’t see much else until I walked closer. He turned to look at me as he held up a dark object that went limp--a blanket. I didn’t fight the soft smile as I grabbed the blanket from him.
“Thank you.” Sitting down, I wrapped the blankets around my shoulders. As I settled into my spot, Zuko offered me a cup of tea. Grabbing the cup, I noticed that Zuko had found a slightly flatten part of the roof to perch a small tea tray on. The sweet smell of jasmine tea teased my nose as I brought the cup to my lips. I smiled from the scent of the tea as I looked at Zuko as he took a sip of tea from the cup in his hands.
“Did you really mean what you said?” Zuko’s quiet voice made the smile slowly fade from my lips. “After the Agni Kai.” Zuko stared at the cup of tea in his hands before he shifted his intense gaze to me. My breath caught in my chest as I tried not to be captivated by him.
He’s got a General’s girl back home…right? I forced myself to take rhythmic breaths as I nodded. Zuko’s eyes stared at me as his gaze looked over my appearance. Before I could register the movement, the Prince reached out and lightly ghosted over the end of my braid closest to him. I felt a rush of chills across my body as goosebumps raced down my arms.
“I’ve never seen your hair like that.” His cheeks were slightly tinted in the dim light of the moon. “It looks good like that.”
“What are you doing?” The question left my mouth the second it came to my head as my heart raced with anxiety. My heart just couldn’t take it anymore. Zuko’s lips pulled down slightly as my eyes gave away that something was bothering me.
“I’m giving you a compliment.” Zuko slowly said as he looked away for a second. “What’s wrong?”
Too many questions. I bit the inside of my cheek and looked down before I let the words roll off my tongue.
“There’s a lot of things wrong.” Zuko’s eyebrows furrowed as hurt flashed in his eyes, but I continued to speak. “But the biggest thing that’s bothering me is you.” I put my hand up to stop Zuko from talking.
If I didn’t say it now then I’ll never have the courage again.
“You say horrible things to me that make me feel like I’m a burden or thorn in your side while there are times you say things that sound like you care.” I swallowed to moisten my dry mouth. “The other day you said something about marrying a General’s daughter, but tonight you’re drawing my bath water. Do you know what that does to a person’s feelings?” Taking a deep breath, I continued. “Zuko, I need you to answer one question for me.”
“What do you need to know?” His voice sounded like he was trying to hide how my words made him feel, but his golden orbs gave away the way my words made him feel. My heart was beating so fast that it was threatening to stop as adrenaline fueled my audacity.
“Do you have someone waiting for you back home?” Zuko looked shocked by the bluntness of my next words. “You said something the other day about your father arranging you to marry a General’s daughter, so I just need to know if someone else is waiting for you.” The silence that followed was almost enough to make me pass out, but Zuko’s laughter brought my attention back to him. I felt the tears threatening to pool in my eyes as I went to stand up, but Zuko’s words stopped me.
“No.” He said in a bitter voice before he looked down at his shoes. “Do you have someone waiting for you?”
“No.” I let out a light laugh. “I had the weight of the whole village looming over me, so I wasn’t too interested in dating back home.” I made the mistake of looking at Zuko, who was staring at me with an intense emotion in his eyes. Silence greeted the air between us as I felt a knot in my throat.
“Can I say something too?” Zuko’s question piqued my curiosity, so I nodded. “You’re a problem for me too.”
Now I know how much it hurts to hear that.
“At first, I thought you were a test from my father to see if I wanted to find the Avatar. A distraction from the mission, or a test of some kind.” A bitter laugh left the young Firebender’s lips as he continued. “It didn’t help that you didn’t act like someone with a mission should act--you cooked, cleaned, laughed, and smiled. I thought you were irresponsible and irrational. At first, it bothered me, I complained about it.” I looked down briefly before looking back up at him as he continued. “Then I found out how much I missed it when you weren’t around.” His soft words drew all of my attention as my heart raced in my chest.
“I missed your wittiness, your laugh,” He looked away briefly before he continued. “I was angry when I realized that.”
“Why?” I asked as confusion danced across my features, but Zuko closed his eyes and sighed
“I feared the pain of my father declaring that you were just that—a test.” He slowly opened his eyes to look at me, and I forgot how to breathe for a brief moment. “That once he realized I had feelings for you, he’d take it away and arrange someone else for me to marry.” He let out a sad laugh. “He’s cruel like that, so I tried to put a barrier between us.”
“Then I watched when Zhao hit you--” He took a sip of his tea before he continued. “--I hated the disrespect Zhao had for you. You are to be my bride, and any disrespect towards you is disrespect towards me.” My heart paused as the world seemed to go quiet around us as Zuko dropped the level of his voice.
“Zuko--” I said before the prince finished his cup of tea and changed the subject.
“It’s getting late.” He stood up before he offered his hands to help me up. “I fear I needed to tell you something tonight.” I took his offered hands, but he hesitated to let go of my hands as he held my attention. “I will honor my agreement to marry you once we return with the Avatar.” Zuko let go of my hands, but I reached up to gently touch the left side of his face.
“I promise to aid in regaining your honor.” I gave him a soft smile, but I was surprised as he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on my lips. He pulled back and turned away from me.
“Come on, Princess,” He teased as he smiled at me. “We must rest if we are to find the Avatar.”
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Shine A Light Into The Wreckage
Chapter Eight - Save Me
Bob Floyd was many things. He was an instructor at Top Gun, a lover of Tolkien books and a huge fan of coffee. But Bob was also clumsy. That was how he bumped into the table, knocking her drink onto her notebook. He felt bad about it. Bad enough to come back time and time again, in the hopes that she would be there. And, every time, she is. Each time looking a little worse for wear. It doesn't take Bob long to realise he has to save her.
Warnings: Abusive relationship! Abusive hair pulling! Abusive choking! Forceful sex! Domestic abuse! Seriously don't read if you're affect by stuff like this! Talks of stalking (but in a non serious manner), talks of non consensual groping. she gets called a whore, choking, SA, 'missing' birth control, blood
Series Masterlist
Worried wasn't the word Bob wanted to use. He didn't know her plans, didn't know what she was going to do. He'd desperately hoped that she'd break up with Ken, that she'd call him to help her move out.
But it had been three days and he hadn't heard anything. He'd called and texted, but nothing, no response. Alarm bells would have been ringing if she hadn't at least been looking at his texts.
God, he hated how much he missed. All it took was seeing her in his house, in that old Star Wars shirt one time, and he was hooked. It was a sight Bob would never get enough of. And, after not hearing from her in a week, he couldn't think of anything worse than never seeing her in his house, in his clothes, again.
A week and a half after he'd dropped her at her apartment, a week and a half since he'd heard her soft, melodic voice calling out his name, Bob was given a distraction. A welcome distraction in the form of Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw.
How long had it been since Bradley visited? Bob wasn't entirely sure, too caught up with other things. But, if Bradley was here, it was because Maverick was also here.
They almost had all of the Squad back together. As much as Bob loved Jake and Natasha, Rooster and Maverick made a welcome change. Having them down at The Hard Deck while Slow Ride by Foghat, of all songs, played brought back too many good memories, Bob could hardly grasp them all.
They didn't even never to ask about her. It might have been one offhand comment about Bob's dating life and there he was, telling everyone about the girl he had fallen in love with. His cheeks were pink the entire time.
It wasn't his place to detail the abuse, so he didn't. But he made it clear that Ken was an asshole, something that Phoenix and Hangman confirmed. Bradley's fighting spirit immediately came out to play. "Why don't we go jump the guy, get Baby Bob's dream girl back?"
But they all knew they couldn't.
Until the next Saturday at The Hard Deck. Bob stared desperately at his phone as he waited for any sign of her. It had been two whole weeks since he'd last heard from her, abd he'd done nothing but mope around. It really was pathetic, wasn't it? But he couldn't help it. His dream girl seemed to be gone.
And then Bob's phone rang. His breath hitched as her name appeared on the screen and he rushed outside to answer it. "Hey Doll," he said, holding the phone up to his ear.
There was a noise, a noise like she wanted to say something, and then nothing.
Muffled voices, that was all Bob could hear. He pressed his phone tighter to his ear like that would make any sort of difference. The voices muffled, but he could just about make out what was being said. "Barbie, there's still blood on the counter!" Roared a male voice. Kens voice.
When she spoke, Bob could hear it a lot clearer. "I'm getting to it, Ken! I swear!" Her voice was hoarse, terror wrapped around her every word.
The reply was muffled. There was so much happening in that apartment, and Bob didn't know what. It was so fuckibg terrifying.
The next sound he heard was a pained whimper. Natasha had come out to check on him, pausing and listening when she saw the look on Bob's face. Her eyes widened a the next noise, like something hitting the floor or the wall.
Fuck, Bob couldn’t listen to this anymore. He said her name gently. "If you can hear me, lock yourself in the bathroom. I'm coming to get you."
There was no reply, the call just ending.
Now, Bob wasn't stupid. He knew there was no way he could get in there and get her out without causing more harm. That was why he went up to Rooster, Hangman, and Phoenix. "I need your help."
That was all it took to get them into Bob's truck. He drove, knuckles white against the steering wheel as he headed to her apartment. The others found out what Bob wanted them to know, what he wanted them to do.
It was a plan of sorts, but the word plan made it sound cartoon-y. Natasha was gonna keep the car running while they somehow got into the apartment. Bob was gonna get her while Jake and Bradley dealt with Ken. They didn't know what dealing with Ken meant, but they were prepared for anything.
When they arrived at the apartment Natasha climbed into the driver's seat and Bob, Jake and Bradley climbed out. Bob led the way. He pushed into the entryway, but then he stopped. Which one was her apartment? Fuck, he should have asked on the phone.
But then he heard shouting, loud and clear from the apartment on the top floor.
Bob took off running, the others behind him. He took the stairs two at a time. At the very top of the stairs, he threw his shoulder against the door.
When they met him at the top of the stairs, Bradley and Jake joined him, forcing the door open. It didn't take long before it gave and they were bursting in.
"What the fuck!" Came the not so familiar voice of Ken. "Get out of my apartment!"
Bob ignored him as he looked around. "Where is she?" He asked in a low voice, one the others hadn't heard from him before.
Ken straightened up. "Oh. It's you."
Before he could say more, Rooster strode forward. In an instant he had Ken up against the wall, holding him by the collar of his shirt. "Where is she?" He roared, spit flying into Ken's face.
Bob left Jake and Bradley deal with Ken as he walked through the apartment. He ignored the broken glass on the kitchen floor and continued on.
The first room he got to was the bedroom. It was a mess, sheets everywhere, broken photo frames and a smashed up phone on the floor. Paper everywhere, filled with writing but ripped up. But no her. Swallowing the lump in hid throat, Bob continued on.
There was just one other room. Bob tried pushing on the door, but it was locked. Knocking, he called her name. "Are you in there?"
Pressing his ear to the door, he heard a muffled sob. "I'm here," he tried, pushing at the door handle again. "I'm gonna get you out of here. Can you let me in?"
He heard the door unlock so he pushed his way in. He was slow, giving her time to move away from the door before he threw it open.
And there she was, knees pulled up against her chest as she sat under the sink. The tears freely fell, but she didn't bother to wipe them. Didn't even bother to look up at Bob.
His breath caught in his throat as he looked down at her. When he held his hand out towards her, she flinched away. His heart snapped in two.
"C'mon," he said softly. She finally looked up at him. "I'm getting you out of here."
As soon as she placed her hand in his, Bob pulled her to her feet. Immediately she was against him, holding onto him, arms thrown around his neck. "I got you," he whispered again and again and again.
He held her against him as he walked her out of the apartment. She had nothing besides herself, but that was more than she ever thought she'd make it out with. Her hand was against his chest, feeling the way his heart was beating in his chest.
It didn't stop the tears as he took her down the stairs. He didn't know what Hangman and Rooster were doing, just hoping they were following. And, on the stairs, she slipped. She would have fallen to her knees and all the way down if it wasn't for Bob holding her. "I got you," he kept saying as he got her to the bottom of the stairs and out to the truck.
Bob was a gentleman. He would have helped her in no matter what. But there was no way she would have been able to do it on her own, not in that moment.
"What now?" Natasha asked as Bradley and Jake climbed in. (Jake climbed into the back with her and Bob, but Bob kept himself between the two of them).
"Drop me back at mine," Bob said quietly. She was holding his shirt so tight, it was almost like she was never gonna let go. "I'll pick up the truck tomorrow.”
The drive back to Bob's was silent. His arm stayed around her, large hand comforting against her back. It was only a short drive, Bob kept a hold of her the entire way.
When they pulled up, Bob helped her out. The others were silent, only exchanging looks with him as he opened the door and helped her in.
He heard the truck pull out of the driveway, but the wasn't what he was concerned about as he sat her down. She furiously wiped at her eyes with bruised hands. Hands that Bob gently took into his own and laid them on his lap.
"What happened?"
She looked so tired, so goddamn tired as she looked up at him. There were bruises all over her skin, lip split open. She looked terrible. But she kept her mouth shut, didn't answer him.
He could have begged, could have demanded that she answer him, but what good would that do? Instead, he stood, walked into the kitchen, and got her something to drink.
When he came back with a steaming hot tea and a glass of water, she was already sleeping, face pressed pressed against the arm of the sofa. Bob lifted her ever so slightly, slipped a cushion beneath her head and threw a blanket over her body.
He left her there, sleeping on the sofa. Now, don't get me wrong, Bob would have carried her to the bed. But he'd never seen her so scared before, didn't want to do anything would would scare her more than she already was.
He kept his door open, though. Any noise that she made had Bob in the doorway, checking on her. But she slept right through, Frodo curled up against her.
Taglist: @nurse-sainz
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#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd x you#robert floyd#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd fluff#robert floyd x you#robert bob floyd#top gun#top gun fanfiction#top gun maverick#tgm fic#tgm#bob top gun
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New world, New beginnings
I really really hope we have a flashback or nod of some kind to how they met. Or even getting their apartment together.
I made a small fic to go along with it, it's decently edited not the best I made it last night before heading to bed!
Arin should leave the bench. His parents would show up eventually to find him. Three months ago he got lost in a big supermarket, his parents arrived right after rush hour and most people were leaving.
Once he got the okay, he rushed over to the toy aisle. There were rows of plushies, off-brand action figures, and brick sets. He didn't care for anything other than the ninja.
The plushies, the low-quality mask, and the action figures with very bad paint on the low-quality molds. He reached up with all his might to grab a green ninja action figure. He looked to the back and beamed being greeted with a big green 7$ sticker.
He rushed back to meet his parents at the front of the store only to stop in the middle of the bigger aisle. He turned left, then another right only to end up near the clothing department. Tears bundled up in his eyes then rushed back to the toys aisle.
He only remembered a little but the one thing he remembered was what to do if he got lost. 'Stay where you are, so me and daddy can find you' and just like that he was found. His parents probably knew where he was already, but the memory and idea still comforted him.
"Don't think about being lost. Think about something else." He said to himself. The grass was pretty green. It was scattered around like puddles on a rainy day. It seemed like whatever happened transported him to a desert.
He knew about the desert far from Ninjago City but never traveled with his parents to see it. He stretched the fabric of the green ninja's mask, removed the light green fabric, and wrapped it around his forward like the ninjas' jungle gi's.
"Hey." Another voice called out "Hello!"
Arin perked up, he bounced off the bench and whirled around to look for the person calling out. They sounded young and confused like he was when the merge happened. Arin spun around twice before seeing her.
A girl in a white top and black pants and shoes was trudging through the sand. Her hair was styled into twin buns like many girls in his school and colored pink he'd only seen for crayons.
Arin slipped the hood over his head and rushed over to greet her. "Hi!" he yelled halfway.
This time the girl perked up, relief washed over her face when she saw Arin. She stumbled over to greet him in the middle. She halted however once she came near a grassy patch.
"Hi," Arin exclaimed somewhat out of breath "I'm Arin."
"I'm..." the girl trailed off for a moment, she was ready to speak before letting a small wince of the pain out instead. "I'm a little hurt. I twist my ankle while running."
Arin took her hand and helped her back to the bench.
"What were you running from? A monster?" Asked arin
"No. I was just running for fun."
"Fun?"
"Yeah. At first, I was running to get away. Then I started running because it was nice, the wind felt nice.” The girl smiled, “ My name’s Sora.”
#ninjago#rans art#ninjago arin#ninjago sora#ninjago dragons rising#they were just the cuest kids who deserve better
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