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heartless-tate · 3 months

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Notice me! | Azriel X Freader

summary; Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

a/n; Heyy! Just a little fic of being courted by Azriel. And you not being very aware of it. Hope you enjoy!

content/trigger warnings; knife, food, meat?, cussing, kissing, no use y/n, hint towards lust feeling, Azriel pining, Armen being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, thunderstorm mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it! 💝

word count: 3.1k. |. Part two

A plate clattered against the table causing your attention to turn to the man in front of you.

You met his gaze as he waited for you to try his new dish, his eyes seeming to shine as the sun hit his eyes. You swear he always seemed to be effortlessly beautiful. It was angering in some ways, you had even seen him wake up looking like a god. No. Better than a god. It didn’t matter if you spent an hour in the mirror, swiping various products of different expenses on your face; the result would be the same. The same boring face you saw everyday.

A wonderful smell wafted from the plate, causing your empty stomach to growl loud enough to shake the mountains. The shadowsinger smirked, pushing the plate of food closer to you with a gentleness most men didn’t have. Your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands instinctively coming to paw at your stomach, hoping it would stop. Your eyes wandered down to the plate where a meal sat.

“I haven’t made this before. I wanted you to be the first to try it.” He spoke with every ounce of grace and elegance a god would have. His hands grasped the seat across from you, pulling it out and taking a seat. His wings shifted until finding a comfortable position in the chair. You nodded in response, picking the fork up before taking in the rather- gracious portion of food he had made for you.

A ribeye steak bigger than your hand sat on the plate. Seasoning of different kinds were smothered on it, and the smell of butter consumed your senses. Your mouth watered in response. Beside it were two sides. Your favorites.

Armen smirked from where she sat beside you, watching as you lifted the steak knife and fork. You were so oblivious. She had been watching for the last few years as Azriel desperately chased after you, and you never seemed to even notice. It was amusing. He has spent hours staring at you, and you never realized. And if she pointed it out, you just assumed you had something on your face. She knew he was growing restless. Not tired of you, but tired of your complete oblivion. These days he seemed ready to scream from the top of the roof that he loved you.

Azriel’s scarred hand clutched at your wrist. He gently took the knife and fork away from you, before grabbing your plate and proceeding to cut your steak into bite sized pieces. Armen snickered from where she sat, resulting in a glare from Azriel.

“Oh- Azriel I can do that-“ You started.

“I know you can.” He responded. He didn’t give back your plate until your steak was cut into bite sized pieces for you. He watched you place the first bite of steak into your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back and you let out a hum of approval, chewing the food. The flavor was delicious, and it was quite easily the best steak you had ever tasted in your life. It wasn’t too buttery. Or too seasoned. It was just right. The meat was tender.

Azriel’s wings rustled at your hum. His face shined with pure male pride. His eyes never left you once while you chewed and swallowed. He stood, taking the steak knife that was no longer needed into the kitchen.

Armen followed after him. He sat the knife in the sink, letting the house do its magic before turning his attention to Armen.

“You’re like a love sick puppy.”

“My love life isn’t your business.” Azriel responded, his face tight. His words were low, ensuring you couldn’t hear.

“Hm. All I’m saying is your ‘courting’ isn’t going to work.” Armen said, picking at her nail leisurely. She was like a cat. Her piercing eyes watched as Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her with a scowl. Before he could comment more, Armen spoke again.

“She’s oblivious. It doesn’t matter if you fix her food, or leave her favorite pastries everywhere so she finds them, she won’t get the hint. Literally. I’m getting seasonal allergies from the amount of flowers you’ve left for her everywhere in this house.Seriously, this place is covered in flowers. Either start professing love or drop this little crush.” She growled out, walking out of the kitchen.

Azriel stayed silent before whispering,“It’s not little.”

“Yeah, don’t let me forget to grab a few early starfall gifts.” Mor said. You groaned loudly, rubbing your temples. Even the idea of her gifts made you want to cry. Her starfall gift for you these past few years have been a collection of ridiculously fuzzy socks. Every.Year.

Of course you were grateful, but everyone knew Mor’s gifts weren’t particularly good. You now had a drawer filled with fuzzy and odd colored socks.

Velaris was bustling today. Fae of all kids roamed the streets, some tending to their shops. Kids ran through the streets playing games. Everyone was out enjoying the sunny day. You and Mor decided to go shopping to pick up a few items. Your eyes wandered back down to your list, a few more candles, a book or two, and some lotion.

“Starfall gifts? I don’t think you need to shop this early for them-“

“Nonsense! It’s never too early to do gift shopping!” Mor said, cutting you off. You sighed and shook your head knowing it was hopeless to argue with her.

After a few trips to some stores, you both ended up getting lunch at Rita’s. You ordered a milkshake- apparently a new creation of a cold drink? None less, whatever they were, everyone had been going crazy over them in Velaris. And of course you also got your favorite meal. Mor ordered practically half the menu, content to eat her heart out. You didn’t blame her- food was good.

As your plates were sat down by the waitress, Mor eyed your food with a questioning look. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. “What? You’re looking at my food weird.”

“Oh. Well I’m just surprised to see you ordering a meal here. You know Azriel is gonna harp if you don’t eat his food.” Mor responded, shoveling food into her mouth as if she’d starve.

“Huh?” You countered.

Mor finished her food before rolling her eyes. She sighed deeply as if you had troubled her. “You know..” she said, waving her hands as if that would solve your confusion. When you raised your eyebrows with a puzzled face, she put her fork down.

“You know- when you eat something someone else cooked or you’re not hungry, and he’s cooked you a meal. And you refuse it- he gets all huffy and puffy! Like a broody motherhen.” She continued.

“He doesn’t even fix me food that often-“ you argued.

“Oh please! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Full course meal on the table for you. If only someone loved me that much.” Mor said, picking her fork back up. “Those meals weren’t from the house hun. All I’m saying is maybe you should pay more attention.”

For the rest of the meal, you both sat in silence as you pondered over her words.

Cassian laughed as you entered from the hallway. His eyes shined with amusement as you waddled to the counter with your shopping bags.

The sound was enough to draw a curious Azriel to the room. He immediately grabbed all your bags despite your complaints, setting them on the table. He nodded at you in response when you thanked him.

“I thought you were only shopping for a few things.” Cassian stated. He stood casually leaned against the table with a drink in his left hand. Azriel stood to your left, his wings expanded. His eyes were keen and watchful. You doubted he ever missed a single detail. His skin glistened with sweat, a musky bourbon scent coming from him. Cassian’s skin was sweaty too, evidence of them training together earlier in the day.

“Well, the candle store had a buy two get five for free deal. So I bought four and got ten for free! Cauldron I love Velaris!” You squealed, and Azriel smirked knowingly. He had taken note of your recent obsession with buying candles. Cassian shook his head.

Cassian's face lit up with surprise as you handed him two candles. “So I got one for everyone else. This one smells like leather and the other vanilla. I figured you’d like it Cas.” You continued. He nodded in thanks. You turned to Azriel.

“I got you this candle because I know you love blueberries. And this one is supposed to smell like rainy days and lightning. And this one is books and bourbon!”

Azriel’s eyes never looked down to the candles you had shoved in his arms. His eyes stayed on your face as you happily ranted about the candles. When you finished and looked back up to his face, he had a soft look. It was one you don’t think you’ve seen him use before. His eyes were soft and looked like pools of honey, and his smile was gentle.

You watched as he sat down the candles on the table and turned back to you. “They’re perfect.” He responded. He was so memorizing. You just knew whoever he ended up with would be content. You struggled taking your eyes from him.Cassian growled playfully.

“Hey! Unfair! He got three candles! I only got-“

Cassian was cut off by Mor smacking him on the back of the head as she trotted to the kitchen. She had a lot of leftovers to put away. Azriel gave him a quick glare, silencing him.

You noticed he was wearing all his leathers, and siphons. His shadows whirled leisurely around his shoulders and wings. Azriel watched as your eyes creased in confusion. He sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a shimmer of hope at the fact you had gotten him more candles than Cassian.

“Rhysand sent me on a mission, I’ll be gone for a few days most likely. I’m going to spy on the human queens and make sure all is well there.” He admitted. He watched as your face fell. You quickly smiled again and nodded. His heart thumped like a hammer in his chest. Did you care? Would you miss him like he always missed you? He wondered if you couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t when he was away from you.

“Oh. I see. Be safe.” You responded, nodding slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the feeling in your chest. You had never felt it before. You wondered why all of a sudden you felt this way about him leaving.

His eyes softened even more. “I leave in an hour or two.” He whispered, head tilting to catch your eyes once more. Cassian had disappeared from the room all of a sudden, him and Mor talking loudly about dumb things in the kitchen. Leaving you and Azriel alone. “Let me cook you dinner before I leave.”

His eyebrows furrowed this time as you shook your head no. His smile dropped. He looked like a kicked puppy almost-

“I ate lunch with Mor.” You explained. Your explanation didn’t seem to comfort him as he shook his head in response.

“That was lunch. It’s time for dinner.” Azriel said firmly.

Your mind went back to Mor’s words. Pay more attention…what did she mean? What was there to pay attention to? Azriel cooked for everyone- right..? Your mind raced over your memories, trying to think of a single time you had seen Azriel set a plate down for one of the others.

“Alright then, fix me dinner Azriel.” You responded. Azriel smiled, pleased. His right wing flared, draping over your back. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. His wing was warm against your back, as it guided you beside him. It was much larger than you were, towering over your head. As you entered the kitchen, Cassian and Mor immediately scampered out shouting something about extra training.

You watched Azriel move around the kitchen in a graceful dance of grabbing pans and pots. He kept his wings tucked in, to keep them from banging against counters and tables. His hair was messy from training, or like he had ran his hands through it more then once. But it never failed to frame his face. You watched as a few shadows dart around, grabbing various spices and ingredients for whatever new dish he’d make tonight. He set a pan down on the stove before turning to you.

His scarred hands gently grasped your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you on an empty space on the counter. He huffed a laugh at your squeak of shock. He patted one of your thighs gently before leaving your side and returning to his pan.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. He had lifted you as if you weighed nothing, showcasing his obvious strength. Everytime he touched you with his beautiful hands, it felt like everything stopped. As if the world had slowed to let you enjoy the moment. Your hands wrapped around your stomach, wondering what this weird feeling that had overcome you meant.

He moved swiftly, chopping ingredients and throwing things in various pots and pans. You quickly realized by smell alone he was making your comfort food. You remembered the night a storm had rolled in. Usually thunder and lightning didn’t scare you- but this was different. The booms and flashes were intense, shaking the ground and keeping you from sleep. You had stumbled to the house library in an attempt to distract yourself. But you only found Azriel instead. He had scented your obvious distress and took action immediately. He helped you settle on the couch with cushions and blankets before asking what a comfort food was. A good 15 minutes later he returned with a plate.

You don’t remember much pass that, you just remember becoming tired and sleepily. You remember feeling warm all of a sudden and then you woke up in your bed that morning.

“It’s almost done.” Azriel spoke, bringing you back from your memories. His eyes were distant as if he too was remembering that same night.

You smiled and thanked him as he handed you your bowl and a spoon. He made himself a bowl too. He took your bowl from his hands and sat it down, before grabbing you and setting you back on the floor. His hands stayed on your hips until he was sure you were balanced. He guided you to the sitting room with a fire.

Azriel didn’t eat until you took your first bite, ensuring you liked it. And of course, you did. It was warm, and comforting, like a hug in your mouth. It soothed your soul in ways nothing else could, the flavors easing your body from any previous aches. Azriel had never made a bad meal before. You both ate in silence together, with the comforting crackle of the fire and warming food. But as the time passed, you knew it came time for him to leave.

Your bowls sat on the coffee table. Both finished. The house made them disappear, taking care of them on its own. You were always amazed by its magic.

Your head snapped to Azriel as he stood. He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed and he almost looked like he wanted to chain himself to the wall before even considering leaving. He turned to your sitting form. His shadows seemed to move more quickly and sharper around his shoulders.

“It’s time for me to leave.” He whispered. He watched as you nodded solemnly. You smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you for the meal.”

You watched as Cassian hugged Azriel in goodbye, and Mor nod as her own way of saying goodbye. Azriel had taken his candles to his room earlier, before joining everyone in the hallway. When one left for more then a day, you all said proper goodbyes.

Azriel turned to you, walking swiftly. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his big biceps practically squeezing the life out of you. He practically had to hold himself back from purring when your arms wrapped around his neck in return. Everything darkened as his wings cocooned you. His wings blocked out the noises of the others, leaving just you and him. His head found solace in your neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses in a good way. Before you had time to question Azriel being touchy, Cassian yelled,

“Ok! Ok! We get it, Azriel. Let go of her before you suffocate her.”

Azriel lifted his head, and his wings dropped. His eyes stayed latched on yours. A few seconds passed before he tore his eyes away and scowled at Cassian. His teeth bared in silent warning. Cassian backed down and turned to have conversation with the others. Azriel released you from his grip.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t starve. And I left some flowers on your nightstand. I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered to you, fiddling with his hands like a nervous school boy. Your eyes lit up and you smiled gently.

“Thank you Azriel. Goodbye.” You whispered back in response. His smile turned upside down.

“I told you, call me Az. Or whatever you want- just not my full name. We’re closer than that.” He said in a growl like tone. He watched as you nodded your head.

It was time for him to leave now. He sighed deeply. The others had gone silent watching the scene with interest. But he didn’t seem to care.

He leaned down to your height, his hands grasping at your chin. He turned your head before leaving a gentle but firm kiss on the side of your cheek. “Sleep well tonight.” He whispered before pulling away. You stood in shock at the door to the balcony, as he said his last goodbyes. He waved in an almost shy way at you before taking flight.

You stood still, flabbergasted at what had happened. Slowly your hand rose to your cheek.

Realization dawned on you- he hadn’t ever fixed food for anyone else other than you.

a/n; hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want part two! 🌙

#azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #acotar 5 #acosf #imagine #azriel x reader angst #x reader #female reader #fem reader #reader insert

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eqnoiaa · 24 days

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sunscreen. ੈ✩‧₊˚

a/n: this was lowk rusheddd dont pay any mind to the mistakes !!

warnings: slight smut?? sexual depictions, light swearing maybe

"hey jayj, can you rub some sunscreen on my back? i cant reach.." you say whine as you pick up the open sunscreen bottle on the table next to you, the dry pieces falling into the cracks of the dock and into the merky water below.

jj turns to look at you smiling, taking the sticky sunscreen bottle from you. "of course, looks like you depend on me for everything, huh?" he smirks into the end of his sentence, moving closer to you with every word.

you scoff at the cockiness hes displaying, twisting your body so he could reach your lower back where the sunscreen needed to be applied

he was loving this right now, and you could tell by the way he was beaming with glory once he realized what was happening.

you spin around and your eyes lock with his as hes about to begin the application,"jj. be serious, its just sunscreen"

he scoffs. apalled you would even think of him as unserious, i mean, when has he ever displayed immaturity?

"me? unserious? sweetheart you must be mistaken." jj shook his head as he squeezed the bottle and swiped some cream on his two fingers. you have got to admit, his hands that have been working all day, the rings that had the reflection of the sun on it, and the nickname that had fallen off the tip of his tongue were doing things to you. you werent sure if you liked it or not.

"eyes up here, pretty"

he mumbled as he begins to rub the subscreen into your back. his calloused fingers sending shivers down your spine as you held back a low groan in pleasure.

"wheres kie when you need her, am i right?" jj chuckles behind you nervously, continuing to work his magical hands into you. you just laugh in agreement, still trying to hold back sounds threatening to spill any moment

jj moves into the sides of your stomach and hit a tender spot, allowing an errupt moan to fall

"ohh shitt.."

jj smiles and flips your hair over your shoulder to the front, moving his way up your back. "might have to get you to pay me for this since 'm doing so well.." he gloats, shifting his body closer to yours

you throw your head back a little to respond to him. but it hits his shoulder. now realizing how close the two of you were, you begin to feel a redness creep upon your tan cheeks.

"do you know how you could pay me, darlin'?"

he spoke in an almost whisper, still keeping his seductice husky tone that always manages to do something to you. you dont know what to say to him right now.

your hair blows into your face, almost sticking immediately due to the humidity in the outerbanks right now. he pulls away the few strands that got caught, and pulls you closer by his chest.

you wince at the coldness of more sunscreen being rubbed into your shoulders, almost shutting your eyes completely out of pleasure.

jj makes his hands down to the front of your body, inching closer and closer to the waistline of your american apparel underwear.

" 'this okay?" he mumbles against your neck, planting wet messy love bites all over it. marking what was his.

you almost forget how to speak, realizing what was happening. you wanted to push him away because you knew it was wrong, but your body needed him.

so bad.

"yes."

with your permission he dips his hand fully into your navy blue panties, his thumb brushing across your sensitive clit, making you whimper

all of this, so unexpected, the idea of someone catching you guys on the dock of your bestfriends house made this all so much better, the riskiness of it all turned you on. it turned both of you on.

"what do you want me to do you to, darlin?" jj whispers under his breath, teasing your entrance, waiting for a response. when he doesnt get one, he dips his finger almost in your now soaking pussy.

"huh?"

"everything, anythin' jj, just please do something."

the freudian slip gave him the reassurance he was waiting for, he wasted no time in allowing your walls to surround his fingers. his cold rings inside of you.

a/n: part twooo.??? lmk !!

jj maybank, your bestfriend, has 2 fingers inside of you right now, and youre loving it.

-‐-------------------------------𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪-------------------------

#jj mayback imagine #jj maybank #jj maybank smut #jj obx #jj outer banks #jj x reader #obx #obx fic #jj obx fic #smut #jj smut #sunscreen #blurb #jj maybank blurb #fic prompt #cute

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stellariah · 22 days

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foolish heart, common tongue — Mammon x reader

⊹ word count: 1.8k ⊹ content: sfw, slightly suggestive, fluff to angst to fluff again, light marking (love bites), Mammon is a little possessive but not in a creepy way, Mammon calls you "sunshine", reader/MC is referred to as you/your. ⊹ warnings: none. ⊹ a/n: hi. I love Mammon. Sorry for making him sad here.

Mammon thought he was in love with the sun. He has been trying to convince himself that is why his heart feels so hollow.

It was the way that its rays shimmered and danced along your sleeping frame in the early morning.

Your little snores and sighs had stirred him awake. He woke up disoriented, still not entirely believing that you were really there—that he was really there. But there you both were, tangled in your soft sheets and the warmth of each others’ embraces in your bed in the Human World.

He spent a long time just watching you sleep, the sunbeams shifting from a gentle orange to pale amber to a vibrant yellow as the minutes slipped by. They paint your skin and hair like a canvas. A living, breathing work of art.

It was the way that its rays sparkled in your irises, making them glisten like tiny pools of molten gold, as you blinked away the sleep. You shined brighter than a pile of a million Grimm—more than any gem or jewel or coin he’s ever seen.

It was the way that its warmth made your skin feel beneath his lips as he made a trail from your chest to your neck, to your cheeks to your lips, to fully wake you up. He loved the way your heated skin tingled his lips.

You giggled at first, still in a sleepy stupor. But as his lips travelled higher and higher, your laughter faded to soft whimpers. When you moaned his name and thread your fingers in his hair, he thought his heart would beat out of his chest. He craved you. He was greedy for you.

“Good morning, Mamms,” you sighed, your eyes fully opened.

“Mornin’, my sunshine.”

You pulled him into a searing kiss, lips to lips, and your sun-warmed hands traced along the marks on his chest. He was so lost in your touch that he didn’t feel you flip him over. You were stunning wrapped up in your sheets, but somehow you're even more so with your smiley face above him, illuminated by the sun.

It was the way the faint pinky-reds and oranges and purples of the sunset sky illuminated the love bite he made on your neck as you made dinner that evening.

The mark itself was faint on your skin, but the sunset streaming through the kitchen window streaked the tender punctures with its inky plum, lush coral, and soft scarlet. He glided his fingers along the expanse of your neck, narrowly avoiding a swat from the spoon in your hand, feeling the tiny indents and watching the colours shift as he disturbed the rays. He lowered his head to trace it with his lips and tongue as he tugged the fabric of your shirt down to reveal more of your skin—of his marks on his human—to his greedy fingers and mouth.

“Mammon, I’m trying to cook,” you chided, trying and failing to wiggle your way out of his grasp.

“I can’t help it. I need ya.”

“You always need me.”

“Never,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to your skin between your newly exposed shoulder blades. “Enough.”

“You’re insatiable, you know that?” you laughed as you spun around in his hold, flicking the stove off as you went.

“Maybe you should stop making it so easy to love ya.”

“Mammon,” you said, as you cupped his face in your hands. He leaned into your touch, nuzzling his nose along your palm. “I want you to love me.”

It was the way that the sun was gone when his heart was ripped from his chest.

He knew that he and his brothers could not stay in the Human World forever. But, when the night of their departure came, he didn’t expect that you would be staying.

You told him it was to continue studying with Solomon and developing your magical abilities. He thought that was bullshit. You could keep studying in the Devildom. You argued. He yelled. You cried. He cried, too, because there was no way he could change your mind.

The moon shone across your face as he stepped towards the portal that would take him home. He hates the moon for making him see you so sad.

He watched as you hugged each of his brothers, exchanging whispered promises to stay in touch and make it home safely as they stepped one by one through the portal. He watched as your face crumpled when you stepped towards him. He still couldn’t believe that you were not coming with him. How was he supposed to leave you here?

“Mammon, I love you,” you cried as you wrapped him in your arms.

And like the coward he is, he pulled himself from your embrace and stepped into the portal without a word. He watched you fall to your knees, sobs wracking your body, before you disappeared.

He’s awake with a jolt—his head colliding with his textbook—and you’re not there. There’s no sun either.

He had fallen asleep in class again. It’s been months of this recurring nightmare. As he rubs his eyes, he smears fallen tears across his cheekbones. The pages he has fallen asleep on are wet and warped.

He doesn’t miss the sun. He doesn’t love the sun. It’s always been you. He loves you, but he’s ruined everything.

“Is it the same dream again?” Satan asks quietly from the desk beside him.

He just nods refusing to raise his head. He didn’t need to explain his tears anymore. His brothers all knew. Asmodeus casts a knowing look from across the classroom and Leviathan pats his shoulder as he exits. Mammon wants the ground to swallow him whole.

He manages to gather his books and exit the classroom, but his feet just won’t work the way they should. He stumbles several times as he tries to get down the hallway to his next class. After tripping again and slamming into a set of lockers, he resigns, weary frame and broken heart finally crushing him to the ground. Mammon curls himself into a ball and sobs until sleep finally takes him.

The next time he wakes, Mammon is in his room in the House of Lamentation. He doesn’t know how he got there. Honestly, he really doesn’t care. His bed is comforting and your sweater he has wrapped around his pillow still smells faintly of you.

He opens a bleary eye to quickly check his D.D.D. There’s a text from Beel letting him know that he and Lucifer found him and carried him back to his room and that Belphie was coming to check on him. He stamps out a quick “thanks” and then tucks his nose among the threads of your sweater. He tries to fall asleep again, but an incessant banging on his door disrupts him as soon as his eyes get heavy.

“Who's banging on my door?! Get lost!”

“Mammon, it’s me,” Belphie calls from the other side, the wood panel muffling him. “I think you are gonna want to come out here.”

“Oi, I said fuck off! I’m tryna sleep!”

The door splitters against the wall with the force Belphegor uses to fling it open. The sound of the wood cracking and the flood of hallway light make Mammon dizzy.

“Belphie, I ain’t telling ya again. Get out,” he warns, but his youngest brother persists, yanking him from his bed. Mammon hisses, but it does nothing to dissuade Belphegor.

“You’re coming with me. Stop being a baby,” he scolds as he carries Mammon out of his room.

“Oi, I’m not a-”

His retort dies in his throat at the sight of you down the corridor. Your hair has gotten longer and your eyes are blown wide, but it's you. His human.

He’s dreaming still—he has to be. There is no way that you’re here. Mammon pinches his arm and rubs his eyes as Belphegor sets him on his feet.

“It’s not a dream, Mammon,” Lucifer says from somewhere behind him.

There is no sun in the Devildom, but he has never felt warmer or brighter than he does right now, watching his soulmate run to reach his waiting arms. As soon as you are within reach, he grabs you, pulling you tight against his chest and nuzzling his face along your neck.

“Sunshine,” he sobs, voice broken but so full. “You’re here. You’re really here.”

“I’m sorry for being away for so long.”

“When do ya have to go back?”

“Mammon, I’m not going back.”

“What?”

“I’m not going back. At least not for any extended period of time. Being away for that long was torture.”

“You’re telling me,” he chuckles as you swat his chest playfully.

By the next breath, he has you up off your feet and in his room, slamming the fractured door behind him to muffle the cries of protest from his brothers.

“What happened to the-”

“Ah, Belphie got angry 'cause I wasn’t coming out and broke it,” he replies before dropping you unceremoniously on the bed. With a brief incantation and a swish of your wrist, the door is as good as new and the sounds from the corridor cease entirely.

“What did ya do?”

“Magic,” you laugh as you wag your fingers in the air. “So we can have some time alone, if that’s okay?”

“I love you,” Mammon blurts out, as your expression morphs from giddiness to pensiveness as you wait for him to continue. “Sunshine, I was a coward. I can’t believe I didn’t say it to ya back before I left. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’ll love ya forever.”

“Mammon, you’re not a coward. We should have talked more about my stay. It was my fault.” Mammon shakes his head and you sigh. You’re just as stubborn as he is.

“Now get your ass over here. We have months of cuddles to make up.”

He is in your embrace again in an instant. He missed the feeling of your body wrapped around him—the smell of your shampoo as he lays kiss after kiss on your forehead, along your cheeks, and down your neck. When he finally reaches your lips, you’re crying and he wipes at your tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I love you, Mammon. More than anything. And I’m not going anywhere without you again.”

Though the Devildom was dark and sunless, he has existed here for millennia without some burning star. He has his sunshine in his arms, and this time, he is never letting you go.

©stellariah 2024 | do not copy, repost, translate, or feed my work to AI

#obey me #obey me mammon #mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #om mammon x reader #om mammon #obey me shall we date #obey me swd #obey me swd mammon #obey me fanfic #obey me fanfiction #if you #if you've seen this fic before...no you haven't lol #i love this lil guy so fucking much it's unreal #i wanna kiss him so hard on the face #anyway...hope u enjoyed #sio writes

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tavyliasin · 2 months

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In Sickness, And An Elf - Halsin Comfort Short

Written for a dear darling who is feeling unwell, a short and sweet SFW piece of Halsin x Reader to comfort someone suffering from flu (or a similar ailment)

Short below the cut~ (Yes, the title is a pun, and yes I am proud of it~) --- ---

“My heart?” Halsin’s voice was soft, quiet, his hand already pressing to your forehead. “Too warm…” He muttered, already channeling a little magic to cool his hand. He was right, too. You could feel the fever burning in your cheeks, your head spinning every time you tried to move, your throat raw from the cough that woke you every hour. “Hal-”

“Shhh. There is no need for you to try so hard, my love. I have no intention of going far.” His hand smoothed back the stray hair that had fallen forwards, pushing it behind your ear before cupping your cheek. The kiss on your forehead felt achingly tender. “Close your eyes, wait here.” You nodded silently, earning another brief and chaste kiss to your heated skin before his presence withdrew. The sickness was dreadful, taking its toll on your whole body with the fever, the ache, the shivers that seemed to go from your skin and deep into your bones. Still…there was some comfort to know that the druid was near. Halsin’s footsteps roused you from an uneasy sleep you hadn’t even realised had crept back in, his face a blur as you blinked away to find him kneeling beside your bedroll. “Here, let me help you.” His arm slipped behind your shoulders, his other wrapping around your chest to brace your shoulders and help you sit up. More pillows had appeared behind you than were there when you lay down, providing a place to lean back a little. Your vision cleared more with a few blinks, the worry lines in his brow far clearer now. Golden eyes traced a path across your flush skin, assessing your symptoms quickly.

“Drink this first, my heart, it will help. Even if it does taste terrible.” The mug had a smell of fresh lemon, spiced ginger, and a few bitter herbs mixed into the brew. He chuckled softly. “I am not fond of it either, but it will work.”

Your nose wrinkled after the first sip. “I’m not sure how torture is a cure. Or is this poison to put me out of my misery faster?” “If you are good and finish it quickly, I may consider giving you a reward.” Halsin winked, a wry smile playing across his lips. “But that means no more complaining. Come, now, all of it.” The flavour did not improve, so you decided it would be better to just hold your nose and drain the lot in a few quick gulps. You fought the urge to gag, but true to his word your chest felt eased, your throat stinging yet strangely soothed by the spiced burn of the ginger. “There, that was not so bad, was it?”

“No, it was worse.” You managed a lopsided smile as you handed the mug back to him. “See? Empty. All gone.”

“Very good, my love.” He kissed your cheek, a distraction as he reached behind him. “Just my cheek?” You huffed with mock disappointment. “I thought you promised a reward.” “I do not think raising your temperature further is wise.” Halsin dabbed the sweat from your forehead with a cool and refreshing cloth, the slight scent of mint infused in the water it had soaked in. “We can save anything like that for when you are fully recovered.” “I hope your medicine works fast.” “You’re not the only one…” His reply was so quiet you might not have heard it, especially with your ears feeling as blocked as your nose, but you could have guessed how he felt from the way he shifted his position. “Now, your reward. Open wide.” You closed your eyes, trusting him not to feed you more poison, or medicine if that’s what it was. You were pleasantly surprised by the sweetness that hit your tongue, the slick treat melting down across your tastebuds. There was a slight sting as you swallowed, but it was warm and soothing. You should have guessed this was what he meant. “Honey?” “Yes, my love?” Halsin laughed, already pouring another trickle onto the spoon for you. “A little more, it’s good for you. Then we will see if Gale is done with the soup he has been preparing for you. Karlach has been helping with the bread to go with it, though luckily Wyll is there to ensure it does not burn. Shadowheart and Lae’zel were very insistent on gathering and hunting the fresh ingredients, too. Even Astarion offered to supervise the pot so it doesn’t boil over, though truth be told he may be picking the job that allows him to put in the least effort.”

“You’re all going to these lengths for me? Why?” You felt a few tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hadn’t known them for long, and often you worried that you were bothering them with your questions or talking to them at camp. “Does it matter?” His thumb gently dried your eyes. “Let yourself be cared for this time. You have given enough of yourself to solve all of their problems, and no doubt you will continue to leap straight into the hells for any one of them.”

You tried to find the words to respond, to tell him that it was only the shared burden that kept them with you, but even in your mind that felt sour. They were putting in an effort, they were showing their care in their own ways.

“As for me,” Halsin continued, pulling the blanket up to wrap closer around you before the chill of the night air could make you feel any worse, the energy slowly leaving you again as your eyes grew heavy. “Well, my heart, that is simple.” The whisper of his affection in your ear was barely audible, the depth of his feelings reaching you at the edge of your dreams as sleep won out once more. The druid pressed one last soft kiss to your head before standing to leave. “Rest well, my love. I hope you feel better soon.”

#halsin #halsin x reader #baldurs gate 3 #comfort fanfic #short fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #fanfic #bg3 halsin #halsin is just made of care #get well soon

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queerofthedagger · 1 year

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Inspired by this absolutely precious dreamling art by @anabimelo ! <3

The first time, Dream doesn’t do it on purpose.

He visits the New Inn as he has taken to doing a little more often than perhaps he should, and finds Hob with bruised skin beneath his eyes and a stack of unmarked exams scattered all around him.

“I can return at a better time if you are busy?” Dream offers; he would very much like Hob’s company, but he dislikes seeing him tired like this—much more, he would dislike adding to the reasons for it.

“Stay,” Hob requests, doubt flickering across his face before he nods at the bench beside him.

Dream has been finding himself increasingly incapable of denying Hob anything. He very carefully ignores the implications of said condition.

“Are you certain?” he asks. “You appear to be stressed.”

“All the more reason for a break,” Hob says, waving him off. “You could tell me about… just anything, really. News of your realm? How is the rebuilding going?”

Dream has been trying to become better about this—telling Hob his name and his purpose, all those minute implications that come with it—and so he does.

He speaks of the restoration process of the library, and Lucienne’s tireless work. He spins the stories that make up the inhabitants of the Dreaming and their various histories, while life in the pub keeps playing out around them, a comforting lull that never once disturbs their quiet bubble.

Hob listens, even as his eyes seem to grow heavier, exhaustion radiating off of him.

The first time is not on purpose, and so when Hob Gadling rests his head on Dream’s shoulder, drifting off into his realm, Dream freezes. He is painfully, viscerally aware of the warm weight of Hob’s head, the hair tickling his neck, the soft cadence of Hob’s breathing now pressed against Dream’s side.

Within his chest, something awfully close to a heart is thrashing against its bone-coloured constraints.

The implicit trust is almost overwhelming, would be too much if it wasn’t Hob; Hob, who is muttering a name in this early stage of sleep that he has learnt only months ago, pressing his nose into Dream’s neck as if to build himself a home there.

Dream can do little but breathe, can do little but wrap the magic of his realm around them so that he can carry Hob to his bed without waking him.

He lingers, for the briefest of moments, witnessing Hob’s sleep.

He ignores the blooming tenderness within his chest, too.

While the first time was an accident, the following instances are not.

Hob doesn’t mention it the next time they see each other, as their meetings spill over from the Inn to strolls through London’s early autumn streets and into Hob’s flat. They huddle up on Hob’s sofa, as Hob talks about anything and everything, and nudges Dream to do the same.

So he does; he talks about Matthew and Rose and Jed, about his siblings and his plans for the Dreaming. He lets his voice drop low, lets it drag and curl through the room and wrap around Hob like the magic of lullabies that people dream of.

When Hob’s head comes to rest on his shoulder once more, Dream forgets that he does not need to breathe. He forgets the weight of eternal responsibility that usually presses down on his spine, forgets the phantom coldness of glass and steel, and comes alive beneath the steady, never-ending rhythm of Hob’s breathing. --- So it becomes a habit. Selfishly, Dream builds himself a sanctuary between the sleeping mind and the waking form of his only friend.

He allows his voice to coax Hob into his realm and pretends not to see the knowing glint in Hob’s eyes. He talks of his past and his present and his future as if of gifts that are simple to hand out, and he offers them all up at Hob’s feet for the comfort of his warmth against Dream’s shoulder. For how, without fail, Hob’s calloused hands will find his. How, without fail, once Dream puts him to bed after taking his fill of the warmth, Hob’s fingers will still curl into the insubstantial fabric of Dream’s clothes as if asking him to stay.

It has nothing to do with him, really, and there is only so much Dream can allow himself to indulge. So he never does, no matter how much the longing is threatening to swallow him whole—to lie down beside Hob, to press his nose into the tender skin of Hob’s throat. To pull the covers over them and bask in Hob Gadling’s warmth as if he were the sun and Dream the thawing ice of early spring.

So he never does, until one night, Hob’s grip on his clothes does not loosen; instead, he blinks up at Dream with drowsy eyes that are full of fond exasperation.

He shouldn’t be, is the thing. No mere human should possess the strength to tear themselves out of the Dreaming’s grasp—not with Dream’s attention on them, with no nightmare or outside force to throw them back to waking.

Hob Gadling has not been an ordinary human in a considerable time. He is blinking up at Dream, slow but awake, awake, awake. He says, “Stay. Please.”

Dream’s throat is dry, air stuttering through insubstantial lungs; part of him is tempted to step back into his realm and the safety of its loneliness.

Hob’s fingers are still warm against the skin of his wrist. Beneath the exhaustion and the hope and the quiet confidence, Dream can read the nervous anticipation as if in bold letters.

You have been staying for months now, he seems to say. Will you let me stay with you too, finally, finally?

Dream has been finding himself increasingly incapable of denying Hob anything; Hob’s constant, gentle tenacity renders it impossible, at last.

“As you wish,” Dream murmurs, and means, please; I would stay for as long as you have me.

Hob smiles up at him as if he understands, and once Dream has stretched out beside him, Hob reaches for him. The blanket is spread over Dream, and Hob’s hand finds his wrist, unerring.

“Could’ve just done that weeks ago,” Hob says with a sigh, pulling him close with a light arm around Dream’s waist that he could slip out of if he so pleased.

He doesn’t; he stays silent instead, tension unspooling as his body melts into the warmth of the bed, the scent of Hob around him—its own kind of lullaby.

“Thank you,” Dream says, the words slipping off his tongue in a rare moment of missing deliberation. He can’t bring himself to mind.

Hob hums, a small, content sound before he presses his lips to the crown of Dream’s head. He pulls Dream a little closer yet, and then he drifts back off into Dream’s realm as if it all really is as easy as this, for him.

Dream breathes in, and lets the quiet joy seeping off of Hob’s mind fill the cold cracks within himself. He breathes out and presses his nose into the crook of Hob’s neck, feeling at home for the first time in over a century.

#the sandman #dreamling #hob x dream #the sandman fic #mona's writing #this art has been living rent free in my head since i've seen it I just HAD to write it #and considering all the things I *should* be writing instead this felt like the perfect time

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detydia · 7 months

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Imagine Dean Winchester x You

Dean comforts you after a bad dream.

In the dead of the night, your peaceful slumber was shattered by a vivid, unsettling dream. You jolted awake, breathless and disoriented, your heart racing as if trying to escape the clutches of that haunting dream.

Dean, who had been sound asleep beside you, was awakened by your sudden movement. He propped himself up on his elbow, concern etched across his face as he looked at you.

"Hey," he whispered gently, his hand reaching out to stroke your arm. "You're safe. It was just a dream."

You tried to steady your breath, the images from the dream still fresh in your mind. "It felt so real, Dean. Like I was right there, trapped."

He pulled you into a comforting embrace, letting you rest your head against his chest. "I know, but you're here with me now. You're safe," he reassured you, his voice soothing like a balm for your frayed nerves.

You clung to him, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear. Slowly, your breathing began to regulate, and the remnants of the nightmare started to fade.

"It was just a dream, Y/N," Dean repeated, his voice a gentle murmur. "You're okay."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you fought them back, not wanting to give in to the fear that the dream had left behind. You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself in the present moment.

Dean continued to hold you close, his embrace a shield against the shadows of the night. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, the gesture so tender it almost made your heart ache.

"I'm here," he whispered, his words a promise. "I'm not going anywhere."

You nodded, grateful for his presence, his unwavering support. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice barely more than a whisper.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. "Anytime, Y/N. You don't have to face these things alone."

You knew he meant it. In that moment, the depth of his care for you was palpable, and it provided a sense of comfort that eased the remnants of the nightmare.

Dean tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch gentle and reassuring. "How about we get a glass of water? Maybe that'll help clear your head."

You nodded gratefully, feeling a little more steady. Dean got out of bed and headed to the kitchen, returning with a glass of water, which you sipped slowly, the cool liquid soothing your nerves.

As the minutes ticked by, the edges of the nightmare blurred, and the warmth of Dean's presence worked its magic. You felt a sense of safety wash over you, allowing to let go of the fear that the dream had instilled.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice carrying the weight of your gratitude.

Dean smiled tenderly, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "I love you too. Always."

#dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #fluff #supernatural dean #dean fluff #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean x reader fluff #supernatural #spn

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keithsandwich · 3 months

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Seven Rooms

Pairing: Keith and Alter!Keith/OC (Maeve)

Word Count: ~4k

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags: Breastfeeding, Parenting, Past Trauma Mentions, Family Fluff, Domestic.

Prompts: Storge (Familial Love) mainly, but with hints of Pragma (Enduring Love), and a teeny tiny bit of Eros (Sensual Love) in the Seventh Room.

Summary: Series of drabbles showing Keith and Maeve putting their six children to bed before finishing the day together.

Notes: Written for the Shapes of Love Creation Challenge, hosted by the amazing @lorei-writes and @violettduchess. Thank you so much! And special thanks to Lorei for being the best beta reader!

Watch out for the little Beatrice cameo @bicayaya 💕

First Room —

It was a quiet room where a beautiful scene unfolded, one that Keith looked forward to watching every evening.

By the door, he could see their figures bathed in the dim light of the candles — Maeve rocking in the nursing chair slowly, with their youngest latched onto her breast. She was focused entirely on their baby, smiling and softly cooing, while the little one made little murmurs and stretched his round fingers as if responding to her.

It had been a while since they had a baby as shy as Cosmos. In front of others, even his siblings, he would always hide behind his parents’ legs or stretch his little arms to be picked up, curling up against their chests while avoiding eye contact with anyone. But when alone and enveloped in his mother’s warmth, he would look at her attentively, smile, babble, and move with no inhibition.

And Keith understood him. Dealing with people could be overwhelming, but Maeve possessed this comforting aura that could make anyone feel free to be themselves around her. It certainly worked its magic on him, as her husband. He could only imagine how much more magical it could be for their children, enveloped in her neverending motherly love.

Maybe this was why he enjoyed silently watching such scenes for a while before getting inside the room. The tenderness melted his heart, making all of the day’s hard work even more worth it. Granted, he loved Jade and would give all of himself to his kingdom and for the flowers of happiness to bloom all over the land. But his family were his own flowers of happiness, and witnessing his garden grow radiant and full of love was much more than he could have hoped for in this life.

He would never understand how he could be so lucky.

When Cosmos unlatched and gurgled softly, announcing his satisfaction in his own way, Maeve gently cleaned his little face before covering herself. Finally, she looked up to meet Keith’s loving gaze, offering him a welcoming smile.

“Just in time! His belly is full of milk, and now he’s ready to sleep!” Maeve said with gentle excitement, hoping to make the baby smile without causing agitation. She kissed his cheek before holding him against her shoulder. Meanwhile, Keith approached them, joining their little, perfect world with a delicate touch on Cosmos’ back.

Together with his wife, he would sing him lullabies and rock him to sleep.

Second Room —

The room belonged to a girl that was a bit demanding, nonetheless sweet.

“Dada, tell story.” Aurora squeezed the deer plush tighter in her little arms, hanging on to keep herself awake with her sluggish voice and heavy eyelids.

“But mama just told you one, flower,” Keith said softly, his fingers running soothingly through her olive curls as he gently tried to coax her to sleep. She was properly tucked underneath the blankets, the room was warm, and Maeve, standing on the other side of the crib, had already told her a little fairy tale. However, her mind remained stubbornly alert.

“Baby like story…” she murmured so heartfelt a manner that Keith felt a pang in his chest, tearing up. He blinked back his tears and looked up at Maeve. She seemed to be more prepared to handle Aurora’s pleas than he was, discreetly gesturing for him to just go on.

Trying to convince her to sleep would only make her start fussing and maybe even crying. His heart couldn’t bear to see her cry. Given her drowsiness, telling another story would certainly be more effective, and Aurora would probably drift off in the middle of it.

“Alright…” he said, trying to think of a story to tell her. “Once upon a time, in a mystical forest far, far away, there lived two tiny fairies…”

Aurora wasn’t fully focused on his gentle voice. Her eyelashes fluttered more and more as she battled to keep her eyes open, and she cutely yawned every now and then. Still, Keith continued with the story patiently until her lids finally shut, and Maeve leaned in to place a kiss on her temple.

She was asleep at last.

“Good night, little sweet,” Keith said gently and mimicked his wife, kissing her other temple. Aurora stirred a bit, worrying him for a second. However, she simply turned to her side, still hugging her plushie.

Now that the room was completely silent, Keith caressed her soft hair for a while longer. She was a lot like Mireille, not only in the way she looked but also in her demeanor. He couldn’t help but feel nostalgic for the times when he used to look after his little sister, trying to be there for her since their mother couldn’t, and their father wouldn’t. Of course, he couldn’t really replace them, and eventually, he felt like a failure, which led him to distance himself from her, despite her own opinions about it.

Thankfully, a lot had changed since he found true love. Not only the one he shared with Maeve, although it was what opened his eyes and his heart to everything else. Self-love, loving his other self, and renewing the love for his family through his children by welcoming them with open arms, caused him to no longer feel like a failure when it came to caring for and protecting his loved ones. It had been a long journey, but one that had brought his sister, and surprisingly, even his father closer again — although the former king would always be a better grandfather than a father.

It all fell into place, and everything was flourishing as peacefully as Aurora was sleeping now.

“I promise I’ll always listen to you and never push you away,” he vowed to her silently.

Keith felt Maeve’s hands on his shoulders, and they brought him back to the present. He offered her an apologetic smile before moving on with her to the next room.

Third Room —

The room was… empty.

He and Maeve looked around to find evidence that Iris had been in the room, and that the maid had put her in her pajamas, but her robe and her slippers were missing, as well as the girl. Maeve huffed, placing her hands on her hips and turning to Keith with an exasperated look.

“I bet she’s on the training grounds, again.”

She wasn’t happy, for a good reason. Although Iris developed this habit only recently and had never gone farther than the training grounds — unlike two other little rascals — they couldn’t help but worry about her. Iris had way too much confidence and energy for someone so tiny, and they knew it could put her in trouble, something that definitely gave them a headache.

“She’s been getting a little too much into it, hasn’t she?” Keith asked Maeve with an apologetic tone as they rushed to track down their little girl.

“I wish she was into the discipline part of it as well,” his wife was starting to breathe in relief as they approached the training grounds and the sounds coming from there indicated what they expected.

Iris, in her pajamas and with a wooden sword in her little hands, was sparring with her big brother Helia. During the brief seconds between finding and interrupting them, Keith could see how fiercely the girl charged against the boy twice her size. Granted, Helia was most likely going easy on her. Iris had just started learning how to use a sword — a decision made not by himself or Maeve, but by him. She was younger than her brothers when they had started, but she had always been such an unstoppable force that he assured it was for the best for her to spend her energy in fighting rather than just studying and learning manners. Although it was unusual to have princesses joining in military training, there wasn’t anything official preventing them to. Keith and Maeve didn’t concern themselves with conforming to tradition anyway.

And Keith had to admit, Iris seemed so happy sparring that it warmed his heart and made him feel proud. But too soon him and Maeve had to intervene, and he knew the part each one would take.

Or the one he would not.

“Helianthus!” Maeve surprised the children by calling Helia by his full name. She would only do it when he was in trouble. Wooden swords dropped on the floor when the protective mother stormed in towards her children. “You’re her older brother, you’re supposed to be taking care of her!”

“But I am, mama! She was sneaking out to come here anyway. It’s better if I am with her, is it not?”

By the time the boy replied to Maeve, the other Keith had already surfaced, watching the little troublemaker start running around, yelling “I don’t wanna sleep! I don’t wanna sleep!”. He chuckled. He hadn’t switched because he didn’t want to deal with Iris, but because he knew he was better suited for it.

Each one of their children was unique, but he could also see something of the three of them blooming in their personalities. And Iris was the one who carried more of his heart within her. If Keith had had a chance to enjoy childhood, he could see himself being as free and full of life as she was. This is why what could be considered a challenge was delightful to him. He had fun chasing after the little one while Maeve was busy covering Helia with her cloak and chiding him over the risks of catching a cold. Then both his wife and his son would go inside, and in a more carefree manner, Keith would catch his daughter, throw her in the air, tickle her, and play tag again if it was needed to tire her out.

Because much like Aurora, Iris would only fall asleep when there was no energy left. But while Aurora’s mind was more alert, Iris was more physically active, and getting her to lie down in her bed to sleep was almost an impossible task. In the end, Keith would have to carry her to her room, wrapped snugly in his cape and curled up in his arms, deeply asleep.

Only then could he tuck her under her blankets and kiss her lids goodnight.

Fourth Room —

In the boy’s room, Maeve had already seen that Helia was in bed and with a warm mug of milk in his hands. Despite telling him off only a while ago, she was now caressing his soft hair like the doting mother she was while he drank his milk.

Being born the way he was, Keith had been free to avoid the King and only watch his demands and demeaning insults to his other self. He had never met his mother, and there weren’t good examples of a father around. When Maeve got pregnant for the first time, all he could do was promise to himself that he would be different — he couldn’t risk his children growing up believing themselves a failure. And it got even more important when they had Luna and Helia, twins to be looked down upon by the shitty nobles who still believed that nonsense about twins being bad luck.

In this, Keith ended up being too lenient with them, even more than he and Maeve could be, which ended up causing some problems. “They can’t always ask for fun dada whenever they do something wrong,” his wife told him one day. “Kids need space and encouragement to grow, but they need boundaries too; otherwise they’ll end up hurting themselves.”

And so he understood that being a father should be both fun and boring, at the right times.

“Everything alright there, buddy?” Keith sat on the edge of Helia’s bed and poked his nose playfully, making him giggle. “Did mama explain to you why you can’t train swords with Iris late at night?”

“Mama did, but…” Maeve pursed her lips when the boy said but. Sensing his mother’s disapproval, he leaned towards his father and proceeded more quietly, as if he could keep it a secret between both of them. “Dad, you know I can protect her if anything happens, don’t you?”

“Helia…” Keith understood him, with all his heart. He himself was born to protect, after all. This is why he meant every word when he said next, “I know ya can protect your siblings if you have to, but I don’t want ya to ever need it, especially not now. You’re a kid, shouldn’t be worrying about that.”

Maeve reached out to touch Keith’s hand. Only then he realized he had been tapping the edge of the bed lightly. There was a look in her eyes he was used to seeing when she dealt with him, not him. He turned his hand over hers and squeezed her fingers reassuringly.

Meanwhile, Helia, who couldn’t understand it, frowned.

“Only Aster is older than me! And Luna by some minutes, but it doesn’t matter…” he muttered in the last part. “I’m better than him with a sword, and he’s good with swords! And I always take care of him when we…”

“When ya both are out there sticking your noses where they don’t belong,” Keith finished the sentence for him and poked his nose again to make him stop frowning. “Gotta stop that, and gotta be a good role model for ya sister. I don’t wanna see any of you gettin’ trouble, gotcha?”

“Gotcha…” the boy echoed halfheartedly.

Some things take time to sink in, and Keith could only hope he would learn this lesson smoothly. Until then, he and Maeve would keep a closer eye on the three little rebels they had.

She took the empty cup when he finished his milk, and together they kissed their son goodnight.

Fifth Room —

The room was as peaceful as the girl who lived there. Luna was sitting by the window, a colorful picture book on her knees and a lantern by her side. Her green eyes lit up when she saw her parents by the door, and she immediately closed the book, set it aside, and blew out the candle in the lantern before rushing to meet them. Keith knew she had been eagerly awaiting their arrival, and had she been more outspoken, she would have complained about their delay.

But she was too sweet to say anything. Instead, she took Maeve’s hands and asked, perfectly politely, “Mama, would you braid my hair, please?”

“Why won’t ya ask me to braid your hair?” Keith asked with a playful tone before Maeve could reply to her. He knew his oldest daughter well; she was a reflective child, and he enjoyed teasing her with sudden questions to see her little face twist while trying to find an answer.

And without failing, the girl blinked in confusion a few times, trying to think of an answer to that question. The truth was, both Keiths had done her hair multiple times before, but for some reason she couldn’t quite understand — most likely sheer habit, or the memories of the fun girl’s slumber parties she attended with her mother — Luna always turned to Maeve first.

“Well, do you want your dad to braid your hair, sweetie?” Her mother asked with a smile. Keith could see that she was finding that little interaction funny.

Luna was still hesitating when she nodded in agreement. He clicked his tongue, crouching down to meet her eye level.

“Why don't we each do a braid, and then you can decide which one is better?” Keith suggested, and she paused again to consider.

“I don’t see why not,” she spoke like a true lady, graciously moving between them so she could take both Maeve’s hand and his, and walk with them to her dresser.

Luna sat down and her mother took the hairbrush, parting her long black hair in two so they could each work on one side. Keith still played with her hair a bit, messing it up to try to make her laugh. When he succeeded in amusing his shy and serious daughter, those cute little giggles were enough to warm up his heart. He could keep going just to make her laugh more, but it was late, and she was supposed to go to sleep soon.

“How was your day, flower? I heard you got a letter,” Maeve asked her when she caught her breath. That moment when she was relaxed and enjoying her parents’ company was the best time for conversation.

“Indeed! From godmama. She said Lianna remembers me, can you believe that? We haven’t seen them in two months!” Luna exclaimed joyfully.

“You’re like a big sister to her too, see?” Maeve said with a smile, reaching out for a pink ribbon to tie off her braid.

“There’ll be a goodwill ball in Rhodolite in a few weeks, so we can pay a visit to ya godmama, sweetie,” Keith decided to cheer her up even more, and the gleam in her eyes were better than her giggling.

“Can I write to her to tell we’re visiting?” Luna turned to her mother to ask her.

It was Keith’s turn to fetch a ribbon to tie off the braid he had done.

“Of course, dearest! Beatrice will be so happy to know,” Maeve leaned closer to see her reflection on the mirror, and Keith followed her. “But now tell us. Which braid is the best?”

“Mine, naturally! Isn’t it a perfect braid?” he said with a smug smile.

“I don’t know… Mama’s braid is more neat, but yours got style, papa!”

Keith chuckled. She was way too sweet.

With that matter settled, they tucked her in bed where she talked a bit more about her day before starting to yawn. It was time for their goodnight kiss, and Luna, being the affectionate child she was, returned the kiss on their cheeks every night.

“Papa…” she murmured drowsily. “I wanna give the other papa a kiss too.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

He would do anything for her.

Sixth Room —

The room wasn’t as cozy as the previous ones, with too many candles lit as if the boy who lived there was still fully active, rather than getting ready to sleep. However, the truth was that Aster was deeply asleep, his head resting on open books as he sat by his desk in an uncomfortable position. He probably had dismissed his attendant earlier that night to study, but had eventually become so tired he dozed off while doing so.

Maeve silently brushed his curls away to reveal his closed lids and flushed face, confirming his slumber. She nodded at Keith, signaling that he could pick Aster up and place him in his bed.

His little boy was growing taller and heavier by the day, Keith thought as he carried him in his arms. Being his first child, he clearly remembered how it felt holding him right after he was born, when everything was new and made him so scared. He was so tiny that Keith felt safer holding him in his hands, where he fit better, rather than in his arms. Now he knew Aster would easily grow as tall as him in some years.

It was magical how a small and fragile sprout could grow to be a tall and strong tree. And Keith knew he would become really magnificent. Sure, he had his share in his parents’ headache when he joined Helia and Iris for some mischief, especially the former, when the boys’ need to explore took them too far into the woods, mobilizing searching parties just to find them. “If I am to be king, I need to know every inch of this land, papa,” he would try to explain himself. And studying how big Jade actually was never made him fret. There were no efforts he wouldn’t make to meet the expectations people had over the prince heir.

Keith placed him in his bed, and he and Maeve gently removed his shoes, belt, and vest to help him feel more comfortable through the night. As Keith tucked his son under the blankets, Aster stretched his body a bit, and his eyelids opened just slightly, revealing unfocused golden eyes that looked straight at him.

“Dad… Will you help me with politics?” His voice sounded distant, and his speech was groggy and slow. Aster wasn’t quite awake, but he echoed a request he likely had been thinking about before falling asleep. “It’s… So hard to get…”

Maeve, who was ceremoniously extinguishing the candles of his room, turned to stare at father and son with a worried look.

“Don’t worry, bud. We will study together in the morning. Now sleep tight.” Keith ruffled his hair softly and reassuringly. The boy didn’t answer, but he smiled before closing his eyes again.

“Isn’t his tutor pushing him too hard?” Maeve finally expressed her concerns in a quiet whisper, moving closer and taking Keith's arm. They watched their son sleeping together. “He’s just a kid.”

“He’s the future king of Jade, love,” he kissed her forehead and brought her a little closer. Even after all those years, he knew many things about the royal life were still new to her, or just hard to accept. “I’m ensuring that his tutor isn’t overwhelming him, and I’m assisting him in every way I can.”

Maeve sighed, but ultimately she smiled and nodded. She trusted Keith would always take the best care of their children, no matter their responsibilities as little princes and princesses. With time, he had learned to accept that he had done the best he could for Mireille and Tio — no matter how painful the memory still was to his heart. Now, he and his other self could do a lot better to nurture, protect, and work side by side with Maeve and their children as he intended to with his brother.

His family, for Keith, was a chance to start over. And together, they would ensure that the flowers of happiness were always blooming in Jade.

Seventh Room —

Every night felt like Heaven. After so much work, and so much love, Keith still could snuggle with his wife, laying his head against her breast and intertwining their legs together. He would never be able to describe that feeling. Maeve had become even warmer and softer over the years, so naturally it took a while for him to realize that all of that comfort he felt whenever they were alone in their bed, right before sleeping, emanated from her. And from the neverending love, support, and acceptance she gave him.

Keith closed his eyes and let himself dive into those delightful sensations. The flowery and herbal scents of her, mixed with the milky one on her skin, filled his mind so deeply he was sure it reached the forest in his head, and his other self was likely indulging in it too.

Maeve was his safe haven; the one who showed him what true love was in many of its shapes. She had taken them — him and his other self — as lovers, as husbands, as the fathers to her babies. She had changed her life to embrace the title of princess and of future queen out of her immense feelings towards them and their land, and she would always be the symbol of that eternal bond between Jade and the spirit of nature. The Goddess she served, he saw, felt, lived and loved in her. For there was no other word to define Maeve to him that wasn’t sacred.

“I love you…” Keith whispered against her skin, pressing their bodies together even further. He wished he could simply melt into her.

“I love you too…” She murmured so softly and earnestly in return that he felt like it could be possible.

They could melt and become one forever.

Or at least until next morning; when the sun would bring their children barging into their room and jumping on their beds so they could live it all again.

Happily, and full of love.

Tagging: @bicayaya @olivermorningstar @queengiuliettafirstlady

#shapesoflovecc #ikepri #ikemen prince #keith howell #ikepri oc #my maeve #oc children #fanfic

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ghuleh-recs · 5 months

Text

The holiday season is on its way out and I magically have the brain space for a rec list! Love that for me! Let's go read about Bone Daddy this week.

recs under the cut.

Kinktober Day 10 - @causticjuice - afab!reader

You keep doing your regular workout but your thoughts and eyes keep drifting to Secondo. His muscles straining, his chest heaving, the beads of sweat running down his forehead. You imagine you’re the reason for those, and not the weights in his hands. Fuck, you were supposed to focus on your body, not his. Stop being such a creep, you idiot. He can definitely tell. Your curiosity wins the battle with your will, though, and you look in his direction once again. And what you see nearly knocks you on your ass. His chest is completely bare, the tank top discarded somewhere to the side. His skin glitters with moisture in between the coarse hair. He seems busy enough that your blatant gawking just might go unnoticed. Unlikely, but possible.

Sliding Home - @ramblingoak - f!reader

It's Secondo's turn in the Ghaseball uniform and you can't stop ogling him.

Nave of Hearts - @leezlelatch - gn!reader

Do you believe in love at first sight? Secondo didn't, until he saw you.

Friday Nights at the Vinothek - @writingjourney - gn!reader

When the local vintner who buys his cigarettes at the kiosk you work at offers you a job you can’t believe your luck. But after moving to the vineyard where the attraction between you only grows, you soon realize that he is not quite who you thought he is – and that working for a vampire comes with unexpected dangers.

la bella luna - @ghostchems - f!reader

after a disappointing evening, you run into a mysterious man on the street.

The King - @kissingghouls - f!reader

You thought accounting would lead to a boring life. Then you started working for Mr. Emeritus.

Come Home to Me - @da-rulah - f!reader

No one ever thought to question why Papa Emeritus II was such a bitter man. People assumed it was a product of his upbringing, of the pressures being an Emeritus brought him. But they had no idea that years ago, he was a completely different man. A man that you so easily fell in love with…

Fevered Love - @zombiequeenblog - f!reader

You take care of your Papa Secondo when he's feeling unwell.

Kiss Prompt Fic - @molly-ghuleh - afab!reader

"I think this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me."

Possession - @violet-lazer - gn!reader

Perhaps it was overconfidence, then, the fact that no strings had truly meant no strings in past dalliances, that had led Secondo to forget that it’s always, always a gamble. No matter how sure you are in your ability to keep a distance, to temper feelings, to avoid threading the needle of jealousy that could so easily burrow its way into one’s chest and tug, nothing is promised. Friends with benefits is fine, easy even, until somebody starts ruminating over the quiet, tender moments before and after the deed or the kisses that linger just a little too long. The gulf is vast between ‘let’s keep this casual’ and ‘let’s try something real.’ (Or: Secondo is finding 'friends with benefits' more difficult than anticipated.)

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

Did I forget your favorite? You've got a standing invitation from me to add your own rec and reblog ♡

#fic rec friday #the band ghost fanfiction #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #the band ghost #reader insert #my fic recs #spicy tag #papa emeritus ii

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thateldribitch · 5 months

Text

To Be Tender

Yandere Floyd/Reader; Yandere Jade/Reader. Briefly mentioned Yandere Azul/Reader.

Word Count: 2114

Kind of part of a series, could be read as standalone though. Here's part one!

CW: Possessive behavior, kidnapping, yandere behavior, the tweels being grabby and creepy (but not sexual.) The ocean. Conditioning and manipulation. We're getting psychological this time bitches.

“Darling….” A warm breath makes your eyes flutter in the false dawn. The magical lights begin to tick past the faint blue of the night cycle to an early morning gray. The faux stars dim. The projected moon clicks off. A groan trickles past your lips… petering off into a whine as his limbs untwine from yours. Cold. You curl into a ball, soaking up the warmth draining from the bed. A hand strokes through your hair, tenderly. Warm lips press to your forehead. “...business trip… evening…. Back before you know it….”

Words drift in and out of your barely thawed consciousness. Too cold to go to sleep; too sleepy to fully wake. A quiet chuckle escapes Azul’s lips, as he swaddles you in a sinfully soft blanket. It’s weighted…. And that too-light feeling fades with a sigh of comfort. Sinking… back into sleep…. Hours later… the bulbs in the walls begin to burnish to a sunshine-gold… your eyes flutter open.

You scream into your goddamn pillow.

Even the fabric smells like him. The blanket is worse, though. Gods, whenever he leaves like this he swaddles you in soft blankets, weighted and covered in his cologne. The texture feels all too similar to his skin, the plush softness of his caecilian body…. It should disquiet you. It used to. And yet you’ve been Pavlov’d into relaxing beneath the false warmth and weight and scent….. Spitefully, you kick the blanket off of you and curl into a ball.

It’s worse when you remember he only gives you the blankets when he’s not in bed with you. Because why would you need anything but his body to keep you comfortable? You’re just glad he stopped using his body as the bedding. You have something akin to a mattress now. It’s. An upgrade. Sort of…. More nest-like than anything you’re used to, but it’s… comfortable, at least. But it’s still too cold without a blanket. Or Azul. Pinching your lips, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to eke out a few more minutes of very uncomfortable sleep. It’s more irritable half-awareness, though; meditative, almost.

The lights eventually warm to something akin to mid-morning light. It stirs you like clockwork. Gritting your teeth, you sigh and stumble up and out of bed. You clumsily swim into the kitchen with groggy little kicks. There’s a lovingly prepared plate waiting for you. A thick slab of meat perfumes the water with a mouth-watering marinade. It takes you a moment to realize it’s an orca’s flank. With its contrasting skin delicately flayed and its teeth artfully scattered around the plate’s edge, the cut glistens on a bed of sea-greens.

It’s fresh. And warm. Domestic, with the intimidating hint of showing off—look what I can kill for you. Look at how strong I am, how capable. But not only that, but it’s purposefully seasoned to your tastes. For a moment… you just stare at it. It’s conditioning. You know it’s conditioning. Bile rises into your throat. Hunger falls to a distant memory. Instead, desperation rises. A need. A need to get out, you need to get out before his calculated attempts at Stockholm syndrome really start to work.

You smack the plate off the counter, breathing heavily. The meat sinks. The greens float and scatter. It’s not enough. It’s not enough. The exit is clear. An open cave, a crack in the trench wall. This is your prison. But why would he need a locked door or bars to keep you where he wants you. The intimidation of the exit is so effective in the first place. The abyss stretches out before you—a yawning, frigid maw beyond the temptingly enchanted light and heat of Azul’s cavern. But your heart beats restlessly. It’s a constant tempo of your need for freedom.

It takes many start-stops; many failed attempts of trying to gain the courage to brave the darkness again. Even more so to move through it. Because the trench just consumes. Life, light, everything. Even though you must not be more than a few feet out—is it only a few feet? It feels like miles. Like a current dragged you down further and you just couldn’t feel it because it’s so damn cold. You’re numb. Okay. Okay, no, calm down. Calm down. There’s not a living thing in these icy depths, nothing beyond what Azul lets into the trench. It’s as if even the most fearsome predators quake at the idea of entering such dangerous, dark waters. It’s. Fine.

Move.

You’ll never get used to swimming through pure ink. It’s directionless. No up, no down—just black. The only sound is the bubble of your breath and the pound of your heart. But the darkness swallows that too. It’s not alive. But it feels like it. A weight, a presence, a monster. Where’s the cavern? Fuck. Fuck, you went out too far, where’s the ledge, you usually use the cavern’s edge to guide yourself up. Fuck…. It’s so cold. Dark, so dark, so cold. Up. Down? Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck—

“My oh my,” a voice sings out in the dark, “Another escape attempt so soon?”

You turn towards it. From the opposite direction, a body crashes into you, sharp teeth sinking pointedly into the back of your neck. It doesn’t hurt. More like. Scruffing a kitten, really. Just with sharper teeth. Instinctively, you fall limp, gasping for breath. Floyd coos as he releases his toothy grip. He rubs his cheek against the back of your neck. He’s warm. Unfortunately warm. Wrapping around you like a living blanket, all velvet skin and soft hair. Floyd can be unfortunately gentle when he wants to be. A content few clicks escape him as he feels you curl into his warmth, nosing closer to him as the chill is burned from your skin. Another shiver—this time, in self-disgust. You hate that this is comforting. You hate that you can breathe easier at the sight of Jade’s golden eye bobbing in the dark.

“And oh so injured. Dear, you mustn’t push yourself like this…. Not when you’re hurt,” Jade lets out a put-upon sigh. Something’s running over your bandages. Pain blooms. Panic bursts like a firework, brief and bright, until your mind registers that it’s Jade’s fingers skimming over your injured ankle.

“Fuck you, Jade,” you hiss.

“If you’d like,” he responds with a small smile that barely shows the points of his teeth. They glitter in the glow of his brother’s gaze, like some monstrously illuminated, razor-sharp smirk. You glance away, glaring off into the darkness. He chuckles softly. “Come along. Let’s get you warm.”

He says that like you have a damn choice…. There’s no such thing as personal space with these two. Floyd’s iron grip constricts you to the point that you wheeze out a breath. Jade’s so damn close that you can feel him twining like a protective ribbon around you and his brother. The one benefit you’ll give to this is that it’s warming you up pretty quickly. Though, you do try and flinch away as Jade rubs at your icy fingers. Sure, it gets feeling back into them, but….

“Hey. Close your eyes, Toadfishie,” Floyd rubs his cheek against your head, mussing up your hair. You didn’t even realize your eyes were open…. “You’ve been in the dark for a minute. Don’t wanna hurt’cha.”

Begrudgingly, you squeeze them shut… even if it goes against your every instinct. Why would a prey animal want to close their eyes around a predator, after all? A shiver claws its way up your spine as the familiar heat of the cavern spills over you. A relieved breath puffs out of your lips, as you melt against the twins. You can’t… help it. The gentle fussing feels so tender. Fingers skim over your ankles.

Maybe you’re a little delirious. Maybe you just… need the comfort, need that tense feeling squeezing your heart to just ease. Just a little. But then Floyd licks at the bite mark he left on your neck—and your whole body goes stiff as a board. Struggling, you squirm out of his arms and right into Jade’s. He clucks his tongue, tucking you tightly against him as he cleans the faintly bleeding tooth marks.

“...Easy now, Pearl,” he murmurs, voice far softer than usual. “...I just don’t want this to get infected.”

“You don’t have to lick me to do that,” you point out, almost bonking your head against his chin. One of his arms cages you against his chest; the other holds your head, gentle but firm. Completely immobilized, all you can do is spit curses and kick your feet a bit. You feel his smirk against your neck.

“It’s faster,” he chuckles. His thumb swipes gently over your cheek, just barely skimming the corner of your lips. You learned a long while ago not to bite them…. But it is tempting. Not that your useless teeth could have punctured their skin anyway.

They like pointing things like that out…. Because their ‘courtship’ has a lot less to do with bribery and conditioning, and more with showing off. Look how strong they are, how capable. They like… proving themselves? They catch increasingly deadly meals. Orcas, giant squids, sharks—proving they can provide for their mate and young, they told you once. That they can protect you. It makes you shiver. At least Azul doesn’t admit things like that with a big, toothy grin. The honesty is… almost refreshing. It’s not a song and dance of subtle manipulations and calculated softness. But it’s still—

“Jaaaaaaaaade, Toadfishie spilled their food,” Floyd pouts, poking at the floating pieces of your meal.

“Have you eaten at all this morning?” Jade murmurs, eyes narrowing. In concern? Frustration? It’s so hard to tell sometimes. Their features are so alien. What you do know is that they all hate it when you don’t eat. Sharply, you inhale as you feel him trying to get you to subtly look him in the eye. You glance at him, glance away. Anywhere but that damn golden eye. “Pearl—”

“No, I didn’t, okay?” You writhe in his grip, uncomfortably screwing your eyes to the wall. “I-I—” You start, then abort the sentence. They don’t deserve an explanation. Trusting them with your fears, even if they can guess at them, makes your skin crawl. You’re not going to tell them anything more than what they demand to know.

“...What would you like to eat?” Jade murmurs, after a moment. You open your mouth, shut it. They won’t get you surface food. You’ve asked before. They don’t let you have anything that reminds you of the surface…. Except for clothes, but even those are more in the style of merfolk nobles. All clinging clothes that can’t get caught in the current; fancy embellishments over scales or skin.

“Mmmm,” Floyd’s displeased hum, bordering on a growl, is your only warning before he snatches you out of Jade’s arms. It knocks the wind out of you. Even more so as he starts swimming back to the entrance of the cavern. “Let’s go to the surface.”

His offer startles you, as you jerk your head to him in shock. It must surprise Jade too, because he immediately swims in front of his impulsive twin. “Floyd—”

“Jade, c’mon, they’re not eating. And they had a back-to-back escape attempt! Toadfishie needs to stretch a bit, they’re too cooped up. Bored!” He flails one arm out, the motion moving the water in a slight stream of bubbles. “Lookit their Toadfishie pout!” He squeezes your cheeks, then pushes his face against yours to ‘pout’ with you.

“...We can’t just take them to the surface without telling Azul.”

“Then let’s get them surface food and bring it back—”

“I really do not think—”

“He’s gonna be more mad if we can’t get ‘em to eat!”

“Mad is a strong word.”

“It’s fuckin’ accurate though!”

“He would be disappointed.”

“Disappointedly mad.”

“At us, perhaps.”

“...Yeahhhh, I can’t see him gettin’ mad at Toadfishie.”

“I still don’t think—”

“...Please?” Timidly, you glance up at them, then down. The two fall silent. Their golden eyes fall like heavy weights upon your quivering lips. Your tears are nigh invisible in the water, but one of them thumbs at your cheek regardless. The tiniest sniff escapes you, but it falls to small sobs. “I won’t try to run, I-I just— please.”

“...Alright, Pearl,” Jade softens. His forehead bumps against yours, hairlines brushing tenderly. A small hum rises in his chest, vibrates through your body. Almost soothes you.

“Just please don’t cry, ’fishie,” Floyd murmurs, almost frantically nuzzling at your neck.

…

It’s nothing but a hollow comfort.

Okay because I know some of y'all might question the nickname, Floyd calls you Toadfishie because: Reader is “slow” (compared to them anyway); likes to bite; and the sour look they give him reminds him of toadfish. Sounds unflattering but he thinks it’s cute lol.

Thanks for the kind tags and comments guys :D It really encouraged me to write this next piece!

#yandere azul ashengrotto #floyd leech/reader #jade leech/reader #yandere #divider by cafe kitsune #twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto/reader

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vividbloosom · 4 months

Text

Keep you warm

Leon S. Kennedy x Reader

Summary: You are stuck with Leon in a dead car. He wants to keep you warm.

Warning: smut, fingering, praise, pet names

I sat in the passenger seat gazing outside as more snow fell from the sky covering everything in a white blanket. The bitter winter storm, with the wind whipping against the windows made the snow slide down.

"Shit!" Leon, my mission partner cursed under his breath, sighing after another failed attempt of starting up the car. "It won't budge."

We were in the middle of nowhere and our car was dead. No sign of road assistence and no signal which made our phones as useless as the car. The two of us sat in silence for a minute as the snow started piling up on the windshield, blocking the view outside. "What do we do..." I knit my brows and look at Leon.

"Good question," Leon responded, sighing as he watched the snow pile up on the windshield. "Guess we'll just have to sit here and wait for rescue." he replied looking at me with his pretty blue eyes and leaning in his seat.

"How are you so chill? I can't feel my hands." I frown and rub my hands together for some warmth and shake from how cold I am. Leon chuckles and reaches over to grab a hold of my hands and interlocking them with his. I blush at this and my eyes meet his. "Jesus, you are freezing." He frowns and keeps holding my hands. His touch was so tender, so soft, as if he wasn't even trying. His grip was firm but gentle, and his hands felt like warm, soft pillows that you'd never want to let go of.

"You are so warm, how?" I whisper-yell and pout. "I don't know...but one thing I know for sure is that there is a blanket in the back of the car." He nods towards the back seat and lets go of my hands as he crawls to the back. He sits down on the back seat and grabs the blanket. "Come here, don't want you to freeze there, princess." He directed and smiled, patting the seat next to him. I made my way to him, shaking from the cold and sat down next to him. Leon's presence was intoxicating, and I could feel the sparks flying between us as soon as we sat in the backseat.

"You are shaking..." He frowned and didn't hesitate to grab me and lift me on his lap, his confident hands gripping me fiercely as he positioned the blanket around us, trapping me in his warm embrace. My heart was pounding in my chest, and my thoughts began to race as I let myself get swept up in his presence, sitting on his lap sideways.

"Better?" He asked looking at me, his voice a low purr that sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel my throat go dry when I felt his gaze upon me. His blue eyes were so mesmerizing, so seductive, and I felt my heart beating faster as I looked back at him. "Yes, thank you." I said quietly.

I felt his hands rub up and down my thighs and squeezing them a little. I let out a sharp intake of breath as I felt his hands running up and down my thighs, my body instantly growing warmer as his touch sent electric sparks through my body. "L-leon..." I gasped as I turned into a blushing mess. "Can I kiss you?" Leon blurted and in that moment, my brain stopped working. "Please..." I whispered and he leaned in.

Our faces were now mere inches apart, and I could feel the heat of his breath on my lips. I craved his touch, his hands caressing me softly, as if I were nothing more than a porcelain doll. Then we locked our lips and I was on cloud nine. Leon's lips were soft yet firm, his kiss so sensual and I couldn't help but moan with pleasure as his warm mouth worked its magic, making me tremble with excitement. The kiss turned into a hot make out sesaion and I tuged his hair making him groan into the kiss.

"Sweetheart, can I touch you?" He asked, his voice breathy as he pulled away from the kiss. I nod and bite my lip. "Use your words, baby." He demands and my brain turns into a liquid by this. "Please, touch me." I plead shyly and blush. "There you go..." He huskily says and his hands start trailing along my body leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch is both gentle and possessive, exploring every curve and contour of my body. His fingers dance along the waistband of my pants, teasing and testing my patience. He unzips my jeans and looks at me.

"I want to see you squirm," He murmurs, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. "I want to hear you plead for more." He tugs at the waistband of my panties, slowly sliding them down my legs, revealing my nakedness. Leon's fingers trail along my inner thighs, his touch teasing and gentle. He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers in a low, seductive tone.

"Relax, my love," He murmurs, his voice filled with desire. "Let me show you just how much pleasure I can bring you." With deliberate intent, his fingers explore my most sensitive areas, his touch skilled and attentive. He watches my reactions, his eyes filled with a mix of affection and lust, as he seeks to bring me to new heights of pleasure.

I try to keep my moans quiet but Leon curls his finger in me, hitting the spongy spot just perfectly. "Don't hide those pretty sounds." He smirks and hits the spot again making me arch my back. "Mhh, Leon..." I moan and grip his shoulders. Leon's lips curl into a satisfied smile as he hears the sweet sound of my moans, my voice laced with pleasure and desire. "What a good girl, doing so good for me." He whispers with a low tone in his voice. He massages my clit and I moan at that sensation. It only fuels his own arousal, his fingers moving with even more intent, seeking to bring me to the peak of pleasure.

"I'm so close Leon-" I whimper and feel a knot in my stomach. "Gonna cum on my fingers? Let go for me. Cum for me, pretty girl." He whispers, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and tenderness. With one final curl of his fingers, Leon pushes me over the edge. Waves of pleasure crash over me, consuming my body as he continues to pleasure me, guiding me through the intensity of my climax, his eyes locked onto mine, relishing in my release. Leon watches with a mixture of satisfaction and adoration as I succumb to the waves of pleasure, my body convulsing with ecstasy. He takes in every gasp and moan that escapes my lips. "So pretty..." He whispers and locks my lips with his in a tender kiss.

"Leon...I need more." I whine as I pull away. "Tell me, sweethwart...What do you need, hm?" He smirks and grins at me. "Please, I need your cock in me." I plead and sit on top of him, my legs on both sides of him. Leon's eyes darken with desire as he hears my plea, feeling a surge of arousal course through his veins. He swiftly removes his jeans, freeing his hardened length, eager to fulfill my desires.

He positions himself, his eyes locked onto mine, seeking permission. With a nod of affirmation he grips my hips and I lower myself onto him, a gasp of pleasure escapes my lips and he groans. "You are too big, Leon..." I whimper and he gives me a minute to adjust to his size. "Shh, don't worry, sweetheart...Doing so good, baby...so thigh." He says, his voice husky and I start to move my hips. Leon's hands help me find a rhythm that satisfies both of our desires and the room is soon filled with the sounds of our erotic moans and sounds of our bodies moving together.

His eyes narrow with concern as he notices my movements becoming sloppy, the sensation of his size overwhelming me. With a tender touch, he reaches up to cup my face, his eyes filled with care and affection. "Easy, love," he murmurs softly, his voice laced with reassurance. "Let me take care of you. Just relax..."

With a gentle but firm grip on my hips, he lays me down on the back seat and takes control of the rhythm with a steady pace. He ensures that each thrust is deep and deliberate, allowing me to feel the fullness without overwhelming me. I wrap my legs around him and moan. "Leon...you feel so good." I whimper under him and he pounds into me ensuring that every thrust brings me closer to the peak of pleasure.

Leon's hands move with purpose, skillfully unclasping my bra and slipping a hand beneath my shirt, eager to feel the softness of my skin. His touch is both gentle and possessive, his fingers tracing along the curve of my breast and my hard nipple eliciting a gasp of pleasure from me. His thrusts grow more deeper and he teases my clit, making me moan as we both chase the heights of pleasure. My walls clench around him, making him groan. "I-I'm gonna cum, Leon-" I cry out as he keeps hitting my g-spot, my body tremblimg. "I can't get enough of you." he breathes, his voice filled with admiration and desire. "Cum for me, princess..."

He maintains the steady rhythm, his hips meeting mine with precision, each movement designed to bring me closer to the brink. His eyes lock onto mine, filled with a mixture of anticipation and adoration, as he watches my pleasure unfold. "Cum inside me, please." I plead and dig my nails into his back, making him groan. "Let go, my love," he whispers, his voice low and filled with encouragement. "Cum for me." We reach our peak and I moan loudly as we both cum together. He moans and captures my mouth with his into a hot kiss.

"Are you still cold?"

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #smut #resident evil #reading

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filmofhybe · 5 months

Text

Christmas ballerina

🗯️ pairing : Yang jungwon x oc 💌 Genre: fluff, parent x parent smau (kinda) 1k words

warnings : jungwon is older here (27-28) while reader is (24-25) , kissing , panicking

Masterlist to my other works

As I delicately comb through Heeji's soft, dark hair, the anticipation for her ballet performance tonight fills the room. The living room is scattered with ballet tutus, ribbons, and a tiny pair of pink ballet shoes. My heart swells with pride as I think about our little ballerina, but the task at hand is proving more challenging than I anticipated.

"Heeji, sweetheart, you need to sit still..” I gently plead, trying to control the unruly strands that seem to have a life of their own. She squirms in her seat, her eyes darting around the room, trying to reach for another barbie doll that’s hair is probably the exact same craziness as Heeji’s hair right now.

"Where's Appa?" she asks, her voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of impatience. "He's finishing up some work, my love. He'll be here soon.” I reassure her, I can sense her rolling her eyes as she continues to steal a glance at the clock ticking away on the wall. The minutes are slipping away, and Heeji's ballet performance is fast approaching.

"But I want him to help with my hair," she insists, her temper slowly getting to her. The familiar pang of panic creeps into my chest. She really taken over my temper..no wonder why my family was damn fed up with me.. I take a deep breath, realizing I need to get creative.

"Tell you what, baby. How about we surprise appa by having the most beautiful hair at the ballet performance? Won't that be fun?" I coax as i give her a smile, attempting to divert her attention from the impending meltdown.

Her eyes light up, momentarily distracted by the idea of surprising jungwon.I seize the opportunity to continue braiding her hair, but Heeji can't resist the urge to fidget. It's a dance of its own, as I try to keep up with her restless energy from the yogurt she has taken.

Suddenly, the familiar sound of the keypad sound echoes through the house. Heeji's face lights up with joy as she exclaims, "Appa’s home!" Her hair comes loose from my hand as her excitement takes over, running towards jungwon. I sighed as i cover my face in the paws of my coat.

Jungwon enters the room, wearing a warm smile that instantly eases my tension. Still looking perfect with the suit I picked out for him from this morning. He crosses the room in a few long strides, and before I can react, he showers me with multiple kisses on my lips. It's a brief but sweet moment that brings a smile to my face. "Hey, my beautiful ladies. What's going on in here?" Jungwon asks, glancing between Heeji and me.

"Keeps asking for you to do her hair for ballet that’s what’s going on.” I sighed as Heeji nods her hee with excitement.

Jungwon grins, clearly delighted by the request. He scoops Heeji into his arms, settling her on his lap. "Alright, princess. I’m not as good as doing your hair as Eomma, so let’s let her do it so we can make sure you have the most beautiful hair for your big performance."

I watch with a mix of relief and gratitude as Jungwon distracts Heeji with tales of magical hair fairies while I finally manage to weave her hair into an elegant bun. Heeji sits still, captivated by her dad's storytelling and the gentle strokes of the brush. Jungwon admires y/n from time to time, remembering those days where she would do his hair before performing, and still will before going to work.

As I finish the last touches, spraying it with hair spray and securing the ballet ribbon in place, Jungwon looks at Heeji with a twinkle in his eye. "You've been such a good girl. How about a special award for the most beautiful ballerina hair?"

Heeji's eyes widen with excitement, nodding at the fact she got reward. The three of us share a tender moment, surrounded by the paraphernalia of ballet dreams and the warmth of our family bond.

As we head to the ballet performance, jungwon holding a flower of bouquet for Heeji. I can't help but marvel at the beauty of these fleeting moments, realizing that it's the shared love and laughter that truly make our family complete. Heeji is truely a daddy’s girl.

taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @skepvids @amymyli @in-somnias-world

#kflixnet #k lables #k films #k neighborhood #🥥 하이브의 영화 #⛸️*.❅·🧣⋆ 24 days of christmas with filmofhybe #yang jungwon x y/n #yang jungwon #enhypen jungwon #jungwon fluff #jungwon imagines #jungwon x reader #jungwon #jungwon smau

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rainbowrelyea · 7 months

Text

Supercorptober Days 29 & 30: "Stars/Magic"

Kara is seeing stars, and not the good kind. As she struggles unsuccessfully to pick herself up out of the rubble from the wall she was just blasted through again, she takes stock of her condition. Her head is spinning, there’s a sharp pain shooting down her left side, and she’s pretty sure she tastes blood. She’s having trouble focusing, but even if her blurry vision makes it hard to see the telltale green coloring her veins, the agonizing burn of the kryptonite currently coursing through her body is an all too familiar sensation.

Where did they even get kryptonite? Kara still can’t figure it out. With the resources of the new DEO behind them, the team had been able to thoroughly scour all of Lex’s old hideouts for any remnants, and Brainy had run signature traces for any they may have missed. And as far as she knew, Lena was the only person left alive who knew how to make synthetic kryptonite - unless someone else had finally figured it out.

Lena. Where was Lena? Kara squinted her eyes through the spots dancing in front of her and tried to find the brunette. She never would have let Lena come if she knew there was going to be kryptonite. How is Kara supposed to protect her if she’s incapacitated? (Much like she is now, unfortunately). Not that Lena necessarily needs Kara’s protection as much as she used to, not now that she has gotten so much more comfortable with her magic, and can definitely hold her own in a fight. But still, it’s Lena.

Kara is just barely able to make out the distant movements of J’onn’s blurry green, black and red form. Nia’s bright blue dream energy streaks across her view, then a flash of yellowish orange in her peripheral she knows is from Alex’s favorite blaster (her favorite one this month, anyways). Suddenly two concerned jade eyes swim into her vision.

“Supergirl, are you okay?” Lena’s voice is a balm to her ringing ears, the comforting familiarity of it soothing her ever so slightly. Kara maintains eye contact as best she can and manages a small nod, even as her features involuntary contort into a grimace. There’s a hand pressed firmly to her chest, followed by a faint whirring sound as Lena activates Kara’s anti-kryptonite suit. “God I need to upgrade your suit, this really should be a standard feature,” she hears Lena mutter with a hint of exasperation in her voice. Then a gentle command - “Just stay put while the suit does its job. We’ve got you covered.”

Lena quickly turns around and casts a protection spell to shield her from any further kryptonite blasts. Kara marvels at the wall of shimmering golden energy that materializes in front of her. Rao, this woman is amazing. As she feels the suit beginning to combat the effects of the green poison still weakening her body, she thinks about the many times that Lena has protected her or saved her life. Even though Kara is supposed to be the one doing the protecting. Has Kara saved Lena as many times? Honestly, she’s lost count of both tallies at this point. What she does know, with no uncertainty, is how lucky she is that her harrowing journey through the stars all those years ago somehow led her to this life, to this incredible woman now fighting by her side.

After what feels like forever, the superhero is finally able to stumble to her feet as the pain of the kryptonite subsides and her strength and other abilities slowly start to return. Just as she’s trying to get a read on the situation so she can rejoin the battle, she watches Lena’s protective wall of magic dissipate into the air. She realizes that while she was still down, the team had managed to subdue the criminals, and now J’onn and Alex are working on securing the hostile weapons while Nia dashes off to do a perimeter sweep. Still a little weak, Kara wobbles shakily when she starts to walk, and then Lena is by her side in an instant, arm wrapped around her waist to steady her.

“Hey you,” she says with a tender smile. “You had me worried for a minute there.”

Kara smiles back, even though Lena can’t see her face through the dark visor of her helmet. “I’m going to be just fine, thanks to you :zhao.”

“Khap :zhao rrip vahdhah.” Lena leans in and plants a light kiss on the front of Kara’s helmet, as the swirling blues and purples of a portal appear next to them. “Come on darling, let’s go home.”

———

Kryptonian Translations:

:zhao = love (used as a term of endearment) Khap :zhao rrip vahdhah = I love you too

#supercorp #supercorptober #supercorptober2023 #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl #kryptonite #lena uses her magic #even superheroes need help sometimes #jonn jonzz #alex danvers #nia nal

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mouschiwrites · 6 months

Note

hi can you do zane/ gn ninja reader oneshot where they get hurt and zane is patching them up? and reader is always jumping into battle first and zane is there to help them. if you want to ofc!!

Can do!

Word count: 673

Ninjago - Zane Patches You Up

Vines and branches whipped at your limbs as you barreled through the brush, but luckily your gi was thick enough to prevent you from sustaining any scratches. You were in hot pursuit of a gang of thieves. They had just stolen a valuable magic artifact from its tomb, an artifact that you would prefer to have in your own hands.

“Don’t they know how dangerous that thing is?” You panted, frustration obvious in your tone.

“If they did, I doubt they’d have stolen it,” Zane replied from behind you. You managed a sardonic laugh.

You nearly fell flat on your face when the thick vegetation opened up suddenly to an angled river bank composed of rocks. Your foot slipped a few inches as a rock tumbled away from under it, but you caught yourself easily and continued running.

The thieves were hauling themselves into a boat when you pounced on them. You seized an oar and swung, knocking out the one who held the artifact. It fell into the boat with his unconscious body.

You lunged for the artifact, tumbling into the boat desperately with arms outstretched. You leapt up with the artifact—a little gold statuette—held high above your head. “Guys! I got it!”

“Excellent work, Y/n!” Zane appraised you, clapping his hands together.

Your cheeks went flushed pink as you beamed at him. For one crucial moment you forgot about the other two thieves in the boat with you.

One of them tackled you from behind, sending you sprawling onto the rocky bank.

“Y/n!” You heard several voices cry out.

You felt a sharp pain shoot up your arm as a particularly jagged rock sliced your skin. The artifact was no longer in your hands.

You felt woozy. You had also hit your head when you fell. Trying to stand up but failing, you fell again. Suddenly you felt a strong body next to your own, helping you limp along to the tree line, out of the way of the ongoing tussle.

The world stopped spinning at last, and you looked to your side to see Zane hunched over your wounded arm. Zane. Of course. He was never far, even when you were in the midst of a battle.

“Is it bad?”

As if in response, a horrible pain shot through you at the slightest touch. Even Zane winced as he watched you recoil.

“You’ll live,” he said after spending a moment staring at the wound. He reached for his first aid kit.

“I can do it,” you offer, holding out your hand. Zane shook his head with a little smile.

“Please. Let me.”

You sighed, reclining a little against the tree and letting him get to work.

“This will sting,” he warned you, wetting a cotton ball with disinfectant. You gritted your teeth as the cold ball dabbed against your tender skin, and you hissed audibly when it suddenly began to burn.

“Sorry,” Zane murmured, trying to move quickly to prolong the pain no longer than needed.

“It’s okay,” you said in a strained voice. You relaxed a bit when he finally discarded the cotton ball. “My fault for getting banged up in the first place. Guess I’m just facing the consequences.” You laughed dryly.

Zane cocked his head. “Was the pain of getting hurt in the first place not the ‘consequence’?”

You shrugged. He had a point, but you were really just trying to cope here. Even with the sting of the disinfectant gone, the wound still hurt like a cow.

The pain eased a little when Zane tenderly wrapped soft gauze around it, fastening the dressing in a little bow. He patted your arm comfortingly. “All patched up, my love.”

“Great,” you grinned, springing to your feet. “Back to battle!”

Zane tried to protest, but you were halfway down the bank already, seamlessly inserting yourself into a struggle between Kai and one of the thieves. With a little sigh he watched you go, an unusual smile making its way onto his lips.

“Y/n, you wild creature.”

Thank you for your request, and thank you for reading! Have a good one lovelies <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #zane julien #zane julien x reader #zane x reader

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dairy-farmer · 1 month

Note

Okay... but imagine my time loop prompt? If both Tim AND Bruce tried to catch the Idol as it got knocked over, failed by accidentally getting in each other's way, and both managed to JUST grab it as it broke? Thus both getting Time Looped.

BUT!

>:Dc Seperately~☆

It's the same layered, Learn A Lesson But Delayed type loop. But! Now Tim is stuck in metaphorical Room A, while Bruce is stuck in metaphorical Room B. Both thinking THEY must have touched it first, thus got cursed and spared the other.

Tim's plan remains the same. Bruce? Experienced with this sort of thing. But ALSO Constantine Bane. And has to chase the fucker down. (Get BACK HERE YOU GLOWING, MAGICAL TWINK!!)

Still gonna take a while.

Still time for Bored Thoughts to turn to Bad Ideas.

Contemplating the Forbidden.

Tim realizing he should PROBABLY address the elephant in the room, when all the porn he ends up invested in most, during "Research", has men that look VERY... Bruce-like.

Bruce, trying and slowing failing to beat of the phrase "timeloops are consequences free" from bouncing around the inside of his skull like a screen saver, as he stares as Tim. His SON.

But... he WANTS.

Obsessively, covetously, WANTS. Surely just a taste? Whispers temptation. That won't ADDICT! It lies.

And it shouldn't be as easy as it is. Tim surprised but sinking into his warmth. Probably thinking exposure to any number of things. Bruce doesn't care. He'll lie if he has too.

Dragging him off to bed like some impatient newlywed. Hands not gentle enough for a virgin, so he uses his tounge, to drag an orgasm out of him so hard his back bows. Drowns pretty little toys in lube to work him open, fucking them in and deep. Not rough or calloused like his fingers.

He knows damn well its brutal on a virgin to take some as big as him. Would work him open, little by little over days, if he could. Plugs and toys. Fingers, round after round. Getting him used to it. But he has today.

Just. Today.

So all he can do is work himself in slow. Press kisses to gasping, teary cheeks, and tell him how good he's being. How brave. Press vibrating little beads to his clit, to drag out some pleasure in all this. Help him adapt. And listen to him whine pitifully in overwhelmed sensation.

Rock into that magnificent heat. God, it feels so GOOD. Work himself in and out, til it's less of a vice. Drenched in lube. Crushed to the mattress and trapped in his arms. Impaled on him. Good for him.

Working up the speed of his hips as he snaps them deep. Buries himself inside that hot, perfect body. Tim gorgeous and incoherently undone beneath him. His. He did this.

Bruce gives in to that desire to stuff him full. Like he's trying to BREED him. Gives in to the desire to whisper filthy praises and tender, emotional things. The sort Tim can't bear, but now can't escape. Impaled on his cock as he is.

Midnight hits too soon.

He does get addicted. How can he not? But he manages to focus. Wants to take his time. Do it right. Which he CAN'T in only 24hours.

And with Tim? His matra of "I will not climb Batman like a tree" has failed him. Curse you, sexy, sexy, Batman! He has learned a lot! But mostly, that unless he is dosed on Pollen? That glorious dick barely fits and does NOT FEEL GREAT, until like? Orgasm three! Which is a lot to ask!

Doesn't STOP him. He just figured out he has to pre-game. Loosen HIMSELF up. Make a morning of it. Get his bits destroyed deliciously all afternoon.

But both Bat can agree? Fuuuuuuck, John Constantine and his escape artist house.

It's ultimately Tim who finds him. Frees them. Bruce is in the cave when Memories Hit. And.... oh. Oh? Oooooooooh.

WELL then~

Meanwhile Tim is just standing there like :O Bruce you KINKY ME FUCKER.

-🐼🐼🐼

and bruce can't possibly deny it at all 😭😭😭!!!

#answered asks #asks #anonymous

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miguelswifey04 · 10 months

Text

chocolate aphrodisiac (miguel o’hara x spider!reader)

summary: miguel and you decided to take up a challenge to consume an aphrodisiac at HQ and see who can`t keep their hands off each other first..

warning: smut w/out much plot, p i v! literally sex <3

“migs!” you tap on his shoulder as you pull out a black box of ‘chocolate aphrodisiacs’. you’ve been pestering him all week long about wanting to try out those chocolate aphrodisiacs you’ve seen go viral on the internet. miguel gave in to your demands as he wanted to test out how’d they taste and see if he could handle the effects. he turns around looking slightly down on you taking note of the black boxes of chocolates—not any ordinary chocolates.

miguel raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he looked at you. the challenge intrigued him, as it was something he had never experienced before. he loved pushing boundaries, especially when it came to exploring his own desires.

“well, well," he purred, his voice laced with excitement and anticipation. "looks like we're up for a little game, huh? a chocolate aphrodisiac, you say? you know i’m always up for a challenge."

without waiting for a response, miguel sauntered over to you with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. his hands reached out to delicately touch your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were almost touching. he could feel the warmth radiating off you, stirring a growing fire within him.

he leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over your ear, his voice dropping into a husky whisper. "but, hun, you should know that I have quite the appetite. are you sure you're ready for what's about to come?"

miguel’s fingers traced teasing circles along your lower back as he waited, his heart racing with excitement, eager to taste the sweet chaos that was about to unfold. you both ate the chocolate aphrodisiacs and went on your merry way to go back to work. you both wanted to test the limits and not give in so easily. as time ticked by, the atmosphere in the Spider Society's headquarters became charged with a mix of nervous energy and growing desire. miguel could feel the effects of the aphrodisiac gradually taking hold, a subtle heat spreading through his body. his senses heightened, every sound, every movement seeming more intense, more sensual.

he looked over at you, noticing a slight flush on your cheeks and a hint of restlessness in your gaze. the chocolate aphrodisiac was working its magic, and he could sense the desire building between you two. this game had unleashed a raw hunger that both thrilled and excited him.

unable to resist the temptation any longer, miguel stood up from his chair, making his way toward you. his steps were deliberate, a confident stride that spoke of his intent. he stopped just a breath away, catching your gaze with a smoldering intensity.

without uttering a single word, miguel closed the distance between you, his body radiating an aura of intensity. he pressed you against the office door, his palms firmly planted on either side of your head. your eyes locked, a silent agreement passing between them. it was an unspoken thing but you both knew miguel lost the bet.

with a surge of raw, primal energy, miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. his movements were forceful yet intoxicatingly tender, his lips exploring yours with a hunger that mirrored his submissive desires. his tongue delved into a dance of dominance and submission, intertwining with yours in a sinful tango.

as you both kissed, miguel’s hands began to roam. he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric of your clothing, tracing the curves of your body. his touch was assertive, igniting sparks of pleasure with every caress. his fingertips glided over your skin, leaving a trail of shivers and tingles in their wake.

a low growl escaped miguel’s lips as he broke the kiss, his breath hot against your ear. "you’ve awakened something wild in me, love," he rasped, his voice laced with a mix of surrender and hunger. "and I intend to make you mine." prior to this he had made sure no one would interrupt the both of you as miguel was always two steps ahead.

with a swift, calculated motion, he lifted you off your feet, his strength effortlessly supporting your weight. he carried you to his desk, laying you down amidst the scattered papers and unfinished work. miguel’s hands worked with precision, deftly undressing you until your nakedness was exposed to his hungry gaze. he carefully went on his knees in front of you as he gripped onto your inner thighs and pushed them apart, giving him the beautiful sight of your perfect pussy. he savored your intoxicating taste, relishing in your desperate moans that filled the room. with each flick of his tongue, he sought to unravel you further, to bring you closer to the precipice of pure ecstasy.

his hands gripped your hips, holding you firmly in place as he delved deeper into your desire. his tongue traced intricate patterns, alternating between slow and fast licks. he suckled on your clit softly and harshly to elicit your moans and heighten your sensitivity. “you taste so fucking good,” he moaned out against your pussy as he french kissed it. the vibrations of his moans against your clit drove you wild. when knowing that it was enough he stood up and aligned himself against your soaking wet pussy. he took in the sight of your flushed body. it was perfect to him even if you sometimes weren’t confident in the way that you looked he made sure to appreciate every inch of you. he then teased you till you begged him to fuck you. he loved when you begged for him and he obliged whenever you did. he proceeded to push himself fully into you. his cock stretched you out as you clamped around his cock that was now coated in your juices. your moans were so pretty that he moaned from hearing how good you sounded, and how well you invited him in.

with a steady pressure, he guided his length into the tight heat, slowly pushing past resistance until you were fully seated within your depths. the sensation was intense, a mixture of pleasure and slight discomfort that only heighten the pleasure you both sought. as his cock plunged into your pussy, stretching and filling you with each forceful thrust his movements became fast and relentless. he lifted your hips off the desk to angle himself better to hit all your sweet spots. “that’s right, be good, i know you can take it.” his hips meeting yours with an urgency that bordered on primal. with every stroke, he could feel you opening up, accommodating his size and yearning for more. his cock stretching you to your limits and beyond. the burn of pleasure mingled with the delicious friction, the intense sensation driving you further into a state of euphoria. your cries filled the room, your voice a symphony of pleasure and need. “please…” you moaned out as miguel pinched one of your nipples and brought his lips to suck on your other nipple teasingly. wanting to further pleasure you he had bent you over the desk and aligned himself at your dripping hole that clenched around nothing. he teased you as he just put the tip around your opening but not yet indulging in your pleas. you cried out loudly as he entered you in one swift motion as you clenched over his fat cock. “fuck m—miguel..”he snaked one hand on your neck as he gripped the sides of it while his other hand dug into the fat of your hips. he showed you no mercy as he pounded into you the sounds of skin slapping and each other’s moans lingered in the air of the control room. you both we drunk from the chocolate aphrodisiacs that you both had consumed earlier. it made the experience out of this world and you thought you were having an out-of-body experience. you were in a daze all you could think about is miguel taking you from behind as you squirted multiple times around his cock. he loved the warm feeling of you gushing around him. he was so drunk from it, he’d fuck you till you couldn’t squirt anymore. “god—miguel, pleaseee…” the way you sounded just pushed miguel to fuck you ferociously. the desk was now rocking loudly as miguel absentmindedly railed you to oblivion. he fucked you as if it was the last time he’d ever be buried deep inside of you. you’re all that he wanted and needed at the very moment.

your walls trembled, your senses heightened by the stretch and depth you craved. each thrust brought your closer to the pinnacle of pleasure, your bodies becoming a conduit of desire and longing. miguel continued to fuck you senseless chasing the peak of gratification. he knew you were close the way your body twitched and how your walls pulsed and squeezed his cock. “that’s it pretty, just let go. o got you.” an orgasmic bliss rippled through your bodies, your release intermingling in a breathtaking symphony. the room became filled with their moans of ecstasy, the scent of sex lingering in the air. miguel emptied himself inside of you and pulled out slowly. he used his fingers to push the remaining cum from going to waste. you writhed at the feeling of his long fingers going in you as you were pretty sensitive.

deep down miguel wanted to continue a second round but seeing the way you were shaking and almost gave out right there and then, he didn’t ask. “you’re so precious to me.” he teased as he helped you on your feet. you nodded, you couldn’t speak or formulate words as you were just fucked out of your mind. “we should probably do this more often.” you only nodded and giggled and went to put your clothes, and miguel was very helpful at that. he helped clean up the mess and dress you up. he also redid your hair for you and he held you in his arms as he peppered kisses on your face and made sure you were sated. “how about we got get some food and drinks from the cafeteria?”

———

tags 🏷️: @innergardentoadpony @crazedcoffeecup @miggyyyyohara @thel0velykey190 @rqdior @dnysclouds @mamamiriamxo @refridgerators @sabcandoit @kairiscorner

#spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #miguel spiderman #atsv x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #spider person #spidersona #ao3 works #atsv smut #miguel smut #🌱 lin writes

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