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yandere-3-sagau · 8 months

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Yandere!SAGAU x Secret!Creator!Reader Part 3

Short Summary: You’re on the Crux and want to test the limits of your new abilities. While you’re on your way to Inazuma, more and more people become aware of your existence. characters: Venti, Xiao, Zhongli, Beidou, Kazuha warning(s): none word count: 2221

(Sorry i’ve been inactive. I stopped playing genshin but i’ve come back for my bby Neuvillette. i’m including him soon to this series hehe)

─── ･｡ﾟ✧: *.☽ .* : ✧.───

The Anemo Archon may be inactive, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t listening. As they always say, the wind carries words… even those meant to be kept secret.

Despite being a god that hasn’t shown himself to his people in ages, Venti is a lot more informed about his nation than most would think. And it’s not just his nation, but other nations as well.

So, when the wind carries the latest rumor to his ears, Venti drops the wine bottle he’s drinking. The glass shatters to the ground, the red liquid seeping into the wooden floors of Angel’s Share. Diluc groans, putting down the wine glass he was cleaning with a tired look on his face.

“Maybe it’s time you head home, Venti. It seems you’ve had too much to drink.”

Diluc’s words don’t seem to reach him as Venti’s aqua green eyes are widened in shock, his face unmoving. The red haired swordsman snaps his fingers in front of Venti’s face.

“You alright there?”

Venti snaps out of it, shaking his head. There’s a large smile on his face that he’s unable to wipe off.

“Yeah… it’s seems you’re right. I’ll be off, now.” He rushes out of Angel’s Share leaving Diluc bewildered at his speed.

“But you haven’t paid…” Diluc sighs, the words dying in his throat. He shakes his head at the Anemo Archon’s erratic behavior, red locks swaying.

As Venti exits the tavern, he jumps into the air and allows the wind to carry him, not caring who sees it.

His small frame is shaking with excitement over the new rumor… but he had to confirm it.

There have been countless times where the words he hears are false…but on the off chance that this new rumor is proven true, it would be groundbreaking.

So, Venti rides the current of the wind, directing it towards the neighboring nation of Liyue where the subject of the rumor was last spotted.

─── ･｡ﾟ✧: *.☽ .* : ✧.───

You’re shocked, seeing the almost love stricken gaze of the vigilant yaksha.

The curse word slips from your mouth but Xiao doesn’t bat an eye, too dazed.

When you finally regain your senses, you have no time to think about Xiao or how he even knows you’re the creator. All you know is that you’ve been discovered and that you need to get back on the Crux before Grandpa Fuyi wakes up and discovers you’re missing.

With that goal in mind, you close your eyes and try to concentrate, thinking of the lower deck of the Crux and Grandpa Fuyi.

Slowly, you open your eyes but immediately jump back, startled. Instead of the lower deck of the Crux, you’re faced with Xiao who has moved disrespectfully close to you.

Xiao’s body is moving on autopilot, subconsciously bringing himself closer as his mind is only filled with thoughts of you. He wanted in engrain the image of you so deep into his brain that he’d remember every detail even when he closed his eyes.

Your presence is so warm it feels like all of the pain he’s suffered has disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Even just the scent of you is so addicting that he’s unable to remain composed. No matter how disrespectful Xiao may seem for invading the creator’s personal space, the need to be near you overcomes any sense of shame he may have. When he notices your shock, he immediately bows his head down.

He can’t stop the tremble of his hands as he stands so close to you, his heart racing. If he just lifted an arm, he’d be able to touch you. He fights the urge with every bone in his body before speaking so quietly that you almost couldn’t hear him.

“I-I’m sorry! I just… I’ve only ever dreamed of meeting you… to think that you’re really here…”

You don’t notice the internal conflict Xiao is having, only feeling your anxiety rising. If Xiao is already aware of you, who knows who else has been informed of your “descension”.

“Listen, Xiao…” he shivers, hearing you call out his name. You’re heading to the exit, determined to find a hidden spot where you can try again to teleport.

“You may have confused me for someone else. I would love to stay and chat but I have some really serious business I need to attend to-“

“Your grace…”

The deep voice that cuts you off fills you with panic as you slowly turn your head and come face to face with the Geo Archon and the sole reason from your departure from Liyue. His tall stature blocks the only exit, hands twitching as his eyes rake all over you.

Zhongli’s long legs make wide strides over to you. He seems to have lost all reason now that he’s finally found you. That face… so filled with joy that it’s almost insane… it makes you shudder.

With deep fear and desperation, you squeeze your eyes shut.

The Crux, The Crux, The Crux…

Finally, you feel that familiar energy surge through you and you know you’ve succeeded. Zhongli and Xiao watch you disappear before their eyes, the Geo Archon’s hand stretched out to touch you before you vanish completely.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of a tea cup clashing against a table. When you open them again, you’re met with two sets of eyes that stare at you in shock.

In front of you, Kazuha and Beidou sit at a round table, the steam from a freshly made teapot slowly rising in the air as the room is filled with silence.

At least you made it to the Crux.

“Well, hello stranger. That’s quite the entrance you’ve made,” Beidou drawls. Her cheek rests upon her hands as she stares at you with interest.

You’re thinking of excuses to make when Kazuha decides to speak after staring at you for a while.

“You’re bleeding,” he says. Panicked, you look at your clothes for any indication of blood but you’re unable to see anything from the dark color of your clothes.

“N-No, I’m not…” you lie, trying to play it off.

“You are… and it must be a lot since I’m able to smell it all the way from here.”

Of course, you know he’s right. The pain is still there since it hasn’t been that long since you were shot and you’re not exactly an expert at patching wounds.

“Why don’t I help you,” Beidou says. “In exchange for the secret on that little entrance you made.” The leader of the Crux steps closer to you causing you to take a step back.

“No, that’s fine! I’m just passing by. My grandpa is on the lower deck and he’s recovering from a heart attack so I really need to-“

With speed faster than you could even comprehend, Kazuha’s hand grips your wrist tightly, preventing you from leaving.

“You’re too suspicious to let go… state your purpose or we’ll have no choice but to treat you as an enemy.”

Beidou sighs, walking over and patting his shoulder as if telling him relax.

“Give them a break, Kazuha. Can’t you see they’re injured? At least patch them up before you start your interrogations.”

You have half the mind to teleport but their movements are so fast, you’re unable fight back. Within the blink of an eye, your hands are bound and you’re seated on a stool as Beidou lifts your shirt to inspect the wound on your back.

Her eyes widen, seeing the messy cloth stained with golden blood. Her hands pull back so fast it’s as if she was burned. Her ruby red eyes snap to look up at the back of your head.

“The creator…”

Kazuha studies you, his face blank but you can see the surprise in his eyes. Both of them take a step back, as they stare at you in silence.

Unexpectedly, it’s the calmest reaction you’ve witnessed so far.

“What brings the creator aboard my humble ship?” Beidou asks, forcing her voice to stay steady as if a big shot… no… the big shot of Teyvat isn’t bound to a chair on her ship.

You sigh. This is the exact reason you wanted to avoid being discovered.

“I wasn’t lying when I said my grandpa is on the lower deck.”

“The grandpa of the creator…”

“Well, adoptive grandpa… but you know, same thing.”

“You’re heading to Inazuma? What for?”

“…vacation.”

Beidou’s hands move back to you this time, asking permission before touching you. You nod your head allowing her to untie you. She then carefully lifts your shirt and removes the wraps to assess the extent of damage. As you twist your head to look at it, you realize it looks a lot less worse than before.

“Who was stupid enough to attack the creator…” Beidou asks but Kazuha nudges her.

“We tied them up… and threatened them,” he says quietly. As if realizing the severity of their actions, Beidou flinches.

“We greatly apologize, your grace. I hope you can understand us. We were just taking precautions to ensure the members of the ship are safe.”

You nod your head, not thinking anything of it. Beidou helps you patch it up and you wince, feeling the stinging pain.

“I will accept your apology… as long as neither of you speak a word of me being here. Don’t tell anyone what you saw or heard. Act as if you’ve never met me.”

You can sense their confusion. They want to ask you why but they stay silent, only nodding at your request. After Beidou patches you up, you immediately leave to the lower deck of the Crux.

The two of them bow their heads down respectfully, waiting until you are completely out of earshot before speaking.

“You’re gonna keep the creator’s secret, right Beidou?”

“…we’ll see how much mora someone offers me for it.”

─── ･｡ﾟ✧: *.☽ .* : ✧.───

The pupils of Zhongli’s eyes shake as he stares at the spot you had just disappeared from.

When Zhongli had arrived at Wangshu Inn, he immediately recognized the scent he found back at the house he discovered. Like a hound, he followed the scent to the top of the inn and when he saw you… his whole world froze.

Unlike when he first met you back at the stall, he knows exactly who you are. This time, he was able to truly take you in.

Staring at the full glory of the creator, illuminated by the warm glow of candles, Zhongli thought that you were more than he could have ever imagined. For the first time in his thousands of years of life, he was completely awestruck.

He forced himself to steady his voice, quietly clearing his throat before speaking. But just as he called out to you, just before he was able to feel you, you vanished.

Zhongli feels as if the coldest of waters was suddenly poured all over him. His breath hitches and the emptiness of his hand physically pains him.

You disappeared. No… you ran away. From him.

It wasn’t obvious before, but Zhongli is sure of it now. You are running away from him.

Your stall that had been opened for months closed just after you had met him, and now. The moment you heard his voice and the second he almost touched you, you left.

The former Geo Archon feels his heart clench up. He slowly turns to Xiao. The intensity of Zhongli’s stare sends a shiver down the Yaksha’s spine.

“You… why was the creator here? When did they arrive? How come you didn’t tell anyone?”

“I-I’m not sure… From what I can remember, I was just thinking of them and suddenly, they appeared. They were only here for less than five minutes.”

The creator appeared for Xiao when he thought of them… but disappeared when Zhongli came.

The ground rumbles beneath them and the walls of the inn begins to shake. The two can hear the guests of the inn start to panic.

“Earthquake!” someone shouts.

Zhongli takes a deep breath and suddenly the rumbling stops. Still, the words keep circling in Zhongli’s head.

The creator appeared for Xiao.

Why? he thinks. There’s not a single second since he’s been aware of your descension where Zhongli is not thinking of you. For longer than Xiao had even been alive, Zhongli prided himself on being the most loyal acolyte of yours. With how much of his being that Zhongli devotes solely to you… why would you appear for Xiao and not him?

Are you unsatisfied with him? Was there something he did?

Just tell him, he thinks. Instead of running away and leaving him in the agony of uncertainty, just tell him what he did.

Does he need to prove himself to you?

Zhongli is more than willing to prove himself. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do to repent and prove himself worthy if the reward is your presence. He’s spent thousands of years devoting himself to you and he’ll worship you til the day he dies.

So now that you’ve finally descended, he doesn’t care if he has to chase you around all of Teyvat. Whether it’s stealing his gnosis back from the Tsaritsa and becoming Morax once more or defeating all the archons of the other nations to prove himself worthy, nothing will deter Zhongli from gaining your acceptance.

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drdemonprince · 6 months

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have you defined the meaning of “white woman brain” anywhere and if not, can you? /gen

Many Black and brown feminist writers have discussed this phenomenon and I encourage you to seek out a lot of writing about this subject, because there are a variety of perspectives, but to distill it, white woman fragility brain is a phenomenon that is not exclusive to either white people or to women, but is especially common among those who can weaponize white womanhood, and it consists of the following qualities:

A view of oneself as a helpless victim that is constantly in threat of being attacked, especially by strangers (even though statistically, this is not the case).

A refusal to consider oneself as capable of doing harm to others, especially a lack of consideration toward others' body autonomy or consent. (even while being highly concerned about one's own autonomy and consent).

A generally passive or passive-aggressive orientation toward the world: seeing oneself as a romantic or sexual object to be approached, but never wanting to initiate (or feeling that one never can), never feeling comfortable directly communicating displeasure or one's desires, believing that others instead must guess at it. (and then resenting people when they don't, but never expressing it).

A tendency to cry, excessively berate oneself, complain about being made to feel "unsafe," or give up when criticized or challenged, especially when challenged by people of color.

A tendency to associate a person's body type with how much of a threat they are. For example, feeling unsafe around people with penises and expecting a social space to accommodate that fear to cater to you, a fear of people who come from cultures where it's common to speak loudly, a fear of those who are large, assertive, and/or darker-skinned.

Instinctive fawning-type responses to stress, and a pattern of feigning happiness, agreeability, and ease when one is not genuinely feeling it, and expecting all other people (but especially other women) to feign happiness as well, paired with a deep-seated resentment of anyone who violates this illusion and expresses any negativity (being especially punitive toward women of color).

Instinctively "smoothing over" conflict between other people before it even begins, even when healthy conflict is necessary and not at all your business-- often performed by gossiping behind other people's backs, triangulating information when it is not yours to share, asking people to alter their behavior in order to avoid a reaction from somebody else, presenting your concerns as if they were somebody else's ("what will people think!"), tone-policing the airing of grievances, derailing hard conversations with more light-hearted topics, and excluding people who are known to be candid and assertive.

Here are some articles on elements of the phenomenon and why it is so dangerous:

Now, I single white cis women out a lot when I am describing this phenomenon, because they have the most to gain from exhibiting these qualities, but make no mistake: this is a pattern that many types of people can and do use. I have seen white trans women use white women's tears to silence critique. I have witnessed women of color being passive-aggressively derailed and silenced by a Black manager who was in a position of institutional power over them. Multiple of the women who sexually harassed me in the story linked above were not white. And LORD knows I see plenty of t boys falling back on this shit, as well as cis men from wealthy backgrounds. It's a mindset that has deep colonial roots and we all must be on the look out for it in ourselves and others, and we must be vigilant in uprooting it.

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lunarw0rks · 3 months

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────141 headcanons: touching the belly────

a/n: y'all know i'm a sucker for the the pregs trope so i had to do this request. and i only did the four dinguses for this one, sorry anon ☺️

warning(s): pregnancy, fluff+angst, invasion of reader's personal space/privacy, protectiveness, hurt/comfort?, afab!reader

‧˚₊ MAIN MASTERLIST ⟢ 141 MASTERLIST ‧₊˚⊹

๋࣭ ⭑ PRICE

⌞one of the perks of being married to john is being supported. quite literally the definition of it, in every form. that goes for your baby too, no questions asked. he's more akin to simon in being traditional while you're expecting. wants you home, resting and not lifting a finger.

he's very particular about who he lets close to you, more than ever now. it makes sense considering his work and the general fragility of a new family. in the same way as kyle, he's constantly stressed. wants everything to be perfect for you and soon to be little one.

always has his eye on you, just like he does all his men. there's nothing he doesn't see or already knows about. honestly, may even spot a bad apple before you do. won't even bother with politeness and will shoo them away before their hand(s) even make contact with your tummy.⌝

๋࣭ ⭑ SIMON

⌞ he was already protective enough before you got pregnant, but he's at a whole new level now. practically a full-time security guard by the time you reach your third trimester. ESPECIALLY when you two find yourselves out and about — which isn't often.

on the off chance that you're at some sort of gathering with simon, he's at your side no matter what. eyeing every person who approaches you, only chiming in when spoken to, out of mere courtesy. as soon as you give him any inkling of discomfort, he's asking you if he should go start the car.

one thing he hasn't gotten used to yet is the touching. how people often belaud pregnant women. cross boundaries constantly to get a feel of them and their bellies. it's already hard enough getting the man to relax, but it's hopeless now with all the new people he "needs" to keep an eye on. it's not a matter of him catching someone touching your belly; he'll already be standing there most likely. glares, huffs, will certainly go as far as removing their hand if it lingers long enough.⌝

๋࣭ ⭑ SOAP

⌞doesn't see any point in excluding you from functions if you think you can handle them. loves having you on his lap or right beside him when he's out, even in pregnancy. as long as you're comfortable and able to signal to him when you're too tired or need something — he's just happy you're there.

most of all, johnny is fiercely protective of the bump. more than he is of you (which is nearly unfathomable, i know). and if there's one thing he loves more than you — it's gushing about you to anyone who'll listen. so, initially, he might not notice someone making you tense while amid his blabbing.

but after so long with him, you've learned to accept the flattery for what it is and remember how easy it is for him to get distracted. a firm squeeze to his hand or a tug to his jacket will do the trick. but once realizes what's happening, he's on it (with his new Dad Speed). finds a way to distract the person and slip you the car keys. promises he'll be out in two minutes to drive you home — and he always is.⌝

๋࣭ ⭑ GAZ

⌞ even though he'd prefer you bundled up in bed and waiting for him, kyle still enjoys doing things with you. he definitely gives a wider berth than the other guys, but he's just as vigilant (if not more). he's more subtle about it, if anything.

it isn't just you to protect anymore, it's you and his baby. so, forgive the man for his pinched brows and clenched fists, he's reverted into nothing but a ball of anxiety the further the months progress.

doesn't mind people having a feel of you, usually, when they only mean well (it's typically older ladies anyhow). but sometimes it's a more unsavory interaction; someone who isn't taking any hints, who can't bear to leave the two of you alone. on one hand, gaz understands — an expectant, attractive couple out on a wholesome shopping trip is bound to lure attention. he takes a slower approach, less hostile to avoid upsetting you anyone. brushes it off with an excuse; "oh, love, you got that appointment today, right? don't wanna be late." and then makes his exit, a guiding hand around your waist.⌝

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luveline · 14 days

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hi love ;)

i have a request for hotch and pregnant reader if thats okay w u, how about reader having terrible morning sickness btu not wanting to wake hotch up because he was away on a case and got home super late and she wants him to rest up BUT hotch obv wakes up and uk coddles her

i hope u have wonderful day/ night and tysm for writing such wholesome stories <3333

thank you angel 💌

cw sickness / throwing up

You’re mostly asleep, occasionally and briefly awoken by a panging ache in your spine. You only know Aaron’s home because you sigh in pain and he shushes you gently.

With the weight of his arm over your stomach, you mumble, “What time is it?”

He whispers back. “Nearly three, honey. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“Didn’t.” It’s the achy back.

Aaron gets the memo. He shifts your weight onto his chest, and that stretch of your shoulder is all you’d needed. You’re asleep again in moments, his breath warming the shell of your ear.

You wake again a few hours later. It’s still dark out, the alarm clock blinking a bleary 5:42AM. You clutch your tumbling tummy and hold your breath even as your mouth fills with saliva, determined to fight it today. You’re sick of being sick.

Aaron snores behind you. His hand has moved up to your chest, though it’s not a salacious touch where his hand rests on your breast. His fingers cover the skin above your heart, his face pressed to a shoulder like he’s desperate to be near.

Oh, no, you think. You’re not eager to throw up, but it’s not what panics you. He only got home a few hours ago and he’s hard not to wake when you move, he’s hyper vigilant even in sleep. But if you don’t get up soon, you’re gonna be sick in your white sheets.

You pant a hot breath and peel away from him slowly. Climbing out of bed is a pain, and you hold your hand to your mouth to stop from throwing up as you stand. You shuffle, disorientated but urgent, to the en-suite bathroom, palming along the wall for the light. You barely have time to grab the toilet lid.

It doesn’t get easier doing this every morning. You eat light before bed and it doesn’t matter, it hurts regardless, your eyes tear up and you feel wholly miserable. Worse when a familiar creaking comes from your bed.

“Ugh,” you whisper, hanging your head, hand tight-knuckled on the lid.

“Why don’t you sit down, Y/N?” he asks softly. “Come on, kneel down on the floor. That’s it, honey. It’s alright.”

You can’t stop yourself from resting your arm on the seat. It might be unhygienic, but you’re exhausted, and the effort it takes to throw up has depleted everything you had. Aaron pauses to touch the space between your shoulders, before he flushes the toilet and kneels down beside you, bringing a wad of toilet tissue to your face.

“I was hoping your morning sickness might’ve gone away while I was in Georgia,” he says, his open hand coming up to cup your back, while the other wipes at your chin.

“It can go all the way to your third trimester.”

“I know, but I still hoped.” He rubs the brunt of his palm gently over your back.

“I’m so sorry. You look so tired.”

“I don’t mind. Do you think it bothers me?”

“Just wanted you to rest.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” —he kisses the skin beside your eye carefully— “honey, it’s fine, we’ll sleep again when you’re finished.”

He jinxes you, summoning another round, but it is admittedly less horrid to go through with his hands at your face and neck. You struggle to breath when it’s done, gasping unsuccessfully for a full lungful of air.

Aaron encourages you away from the toilet with some loving manhandling. “Sit here. Just take a deep breath.” He blows one out for you to follow, and another in. “You got it. Let me get you a glass of water.”

“Can you help me up? I’m done. Just want to be out of this room.”

He’s quick and strong, hands under your arms, pulling you up. You fully believe he could get you into bed if you didn’t get your feet under you, but you do, and he walks you back to your room with a sluggishness you know to be a great deal of care. He goes slowly with you as though you might break. You press your face to his arm and think, Well, at least he loves me.

Being sick is awful, but that’s a certain truth.

“I should’ve made you brush your teeth,” he says, ushering you down onto your side of the bed.

The idea of a toothbrush near the back of your mouth gives you chills. “Maybe in ten minutes.”

He fluffs the pillows behind your back. He seems tempted to kiss you regardless, but he just touches his nose to yours for a brief second and then pulls away. “Drink this,” he demands, passing you the glass from your nightstand. His hands are careful tucking the sheets over your legs and up against your slight bump. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.” You take a couple of sips. “I wish I could hate you for this.”

You’re joking makes him laugh. “That’s okay. It’s my fault, honey. Hate me all you want.”

“I don’t want to,” you say.

He cups your face. Like you didn’t just throw up, no hint of disgust in his touch, only love. “Thank you.” His clumsy thumb on your cheek betrays how tired he is. You move over and usher him onto your side of the bed for hugging, your face hidden in the place between his shoulders.

“Don’t be sick without me,” he says sternly, his hand reaching back to hold your arm.

You try not to think about it. “Ugh.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #criminal minds

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freyito · 7 months

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"ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ" ⨟ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ ʙᴏʏꜱ

i know i was like just hornyposting and all buuuut i've had such a rough couple of days and everythings really building up. figure i'd sit down and write out my favorite "prompt". hurt/comfort... without the hurt, i guess. too hurt to write the hurt :P. essentially what the boys would do when your feeling down and ask to stay with em, of course. is this what im calling the boys now? yes. its MY fic and MY comfort, i get to choose the silly little name for my boyfriends.

cw: gn reader, angsty undertone, comfort, just fluff, bonus characters!, not proofread

⎯ Liu Kang

You do not even need to speak. Liu Kang can see it. You are hurt, near breaking. You trail behind him all day, head down. You actively seek his touch, small things, reaching for his hand, brushing your fingers against his bicep. You are afraid to say it, and yet, he knows.

That night, before he leaves your room to attend to his duties as Earthrealm's protector, you finally speak up. Those three simple words, so quiet, so soft. He does not hesitate to turn around. He is logical, he likes to think, but you pull him in. Within moments, he is in bed with you, his arms wrapped around you firmly. He presses his forehead against your cheek, and whispers,

"I will not leave you, my dear, I am here. Forevermore."

⎯ Bi-Han

Bi-Han knows you almost better than the back of his hand. However, he prefers to let you wallow in peace. He is afraid of pushing past your boundaries, and as such, he is far more distant. Yet, he worries. He worries with his whole heart. However, he cannot let it show. So he is as cold as ever, in front of the Lin Kuei. Strong, vigilant, unyielding.

Tonight, he does not let you go. He misses you so, and you have no need to tell him what you need. It is tender. He pulls you on top of him, holding you close by the waist. And yet, you still speak. And he listens. His gaze softens, tremendously. He looks as if he may be on the verge of tears. His voice steady, as he speaks, yet his face betrays his tone,

"There is no possibility of leaving you, no, not even in death."

⎯ Kuai Liang

Kuai does not know what ails you- but he must. He must know. You have done well to shy away from him, but he is hot on your trail. He knows that hollow look, devoid of emotion, too afraid to show any. Because if you show one, you show all. He does not smother you, no, but he does question you.

The questions stop at night. It is quiet. He is afraid of pushing you further. So Kuai Liang leaves you alone in the bed, with one last kiss on your forehead. Yet, he stands in the doorway. He waits. You speak. And he listens. All you say is one word. He retreats back in bed with you, pushing you closer to his neck. He runs his hands through your hair, calming you down. To still your beating heart. And he speaks with conviction,

"I am here, as long as you need, forever, if you so wish, my love."

⎯ Johnny Cage

Perhaps, Johnny is too much for you recently. And that's okay! He knows his limits. Yet, he finds himself seeking you out. He misses your warmth, your smile, you. He knows that he can be loud, that he can be a lot. And he's always given you space. Yet that look you hold, it is miserable. And he knows exactly what you feel. He follows you around, as if a lost dog, the entire day. He wants you to have space, but he wants you to say those words.

And you do, that night. Finally, those words escape your lips. Just what Johnny wanted to hear. He's got you wrapped up in the blankets, pulling you up into his chest. His hand rests on the back of your head, gently rubbing his thumb into your hair. He presses a kiss to your forehead, and whispers, gently, almost out of character,

"It's alright, sweetheart, I'm not leaving, not tonight, not tomorrow, not anytime."

⎯ Kenshi Takahashi

You cannot hide that sinking pain within your heart, Kenshi can hear the melancholy dripping within your words. He can hear it in your breath, your actions. How your footsteps drag, how slow you walk. He can see it, too, do not be fooled. You stay close, unnecessarily close, you look up at him with such heavy eyes, you stay quiet. He knows. He is waiting for you to act on it, to act on the voice he hears at the very edge of his mind. He is a telepath, you must remember.

And so, when you speak your mind finally, he is all too eager to make sure you know he won't leave. He pulls you up onto his chest, his heartbeat even, soft, and regular. The moment is tender, and he lets your words hang in the air. Silence covers you two like a blanket, comforting. And finally, as he runs his hand down your sides, squeezing your waist gently, he speaks,

"Do not be afraid to tell me what you want, my heart. I will stay close, I will stay."

⎯ Kung Lao

Kung Lao does not need words to stay by you. Night and day. He is glued to your side, trying to cheer you up with his charm. He does not give you enough room to sulk. He's dragging you along with him, even if it's something as simple as watching him train. To keep you at ease, to put a smile on your face. He is making sure everything he does has that effect.

Yet, you still ask him to stay when night comes. He does not deny it, and he pushes himself closer. As if you were not in his arms already. But he makes sure you know he heard you, he squeezes you, and lets out a soft sigh. There is nothing that will take him away from you, and you must know,

"I won't. Nope, not even tomorrow. I'm here as long as you want me here."

⎯ Raiden

You cannot keep Raiden away from you. The minute your expression is somber, he is following close behind you. He does not ask, or interrogate you. But he follows. He is on the lookout for any sort of thing that could have stolen his light from him. What has gotten to you, what dares rip the spark of his life from you? He does not know how to ask you, he is afraid that perhaps it is him.

But it is not. Your hand pulls him back to you by his wrist as you speak. And he obliges. He does not know what has made you feel this way, but he does know, that maybe even this one night will be enough to bring your smile back. He will stay here, as long as you need, as long as he needs. And he makes it known,

"Oh, my light, nothing can keep me away from you."

⎯ Zeffeero

Zeffeero is on you the minute your face so much as drops. Perhaps he is a stubborn lover, too prideful to admit that he cares deeply for you. But he cannot handle loosing your presence, his sunshine. He wants your attention, but does not say so outright. He will do that little thing with the water manipulation and the shapes to amuse you... without you asking. And when that does not bring the smile back to your face, he does not know what else to do.

His heart near stops when you tell him to stay that night. He feels so stupid to have skipped over that part. But he accepts. He tries to show restraint, however he is by you within a matter of seconds. He places a kiss on your jaw, before hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His arms wrap around you, keeping you close. Just as he wanted to the entire day, and he finally speaks,

"Do not scare me so, my dear. I want to keep you safe, and I'll stay until you no longer want me by your side."

⎯ Tomas Vrbada

Your distance is noticeable. However, Tomas does not act upon it. He believes that you need the space you have put between you and him and everyone else. So he does not question it. However, there is a void where you once were. His world fills with the same emptiness and sorrow you felt at your absence. He cannot help but seek you out in the final hours of the dawn. He is afraid, once more. He does not want to pressure you, so he turns his back to you.

You surprise him with your words, he near spins on his heels, a wide and beautiful grin gracing his face. He makes no effort to hide this. His happiness, his light has asked him to stay, and he would be a fool to deny them such a request. He practically throws himself back onto the bed, and wraps his big arms around you. He presses his forehead against yours, and holds your gaze. He speaks, quietly, softly, and you can even hear his smile in his voice,

"I am here for you, Drahoušek. I always will be. Do not be afraid to come to me."

⎯ Baraka

Oh, how Baraka feared this day would come. You have turned your back to him, the air around you rife with despair. He is not afraid that you suddenly dislike him. He is afraid of loosing your positivity. One of the very few things he has held onto because of his affliction. You make him forget all that is bad within this world, within him. And now, there is an absence. He does not know what to do.

But that night, you guide him. Through his own sulking, your words pull him away. Yes. He will gladly stay. If that is what you want. If that is what it takes. He keeps his distance, still. He will always be afraid of his infection spreading. But he sleeps in the same room. And just before you drift off into sleep, you hear him,

"I cannot lose you. Please, tell me when, and I will be there."

⎯ Geras

Geras has reason to believe the reason you have pulled away from him is because of his absence. Because of him. Human emotions are a strange thing, they are intricate, even more so than the dozens of timelines he has watched over. Oh so suddenly, you are turned away from him, too caught up within your own thoughts to voice what has been troubling you. Perhaps it is the fact that he does not have nearly enough time for you. That is the answer he settles on.

Before he can leave you that night, your pleas make him stop. They make him understand, even for a second. He was so sure you were asleep. And yet, you are awake, asking him to stay. He is unsure what to do. But, he must give his love what they want. What they deserve. So, he leans in, and places a gentle kiss on your cheek. His words follow soon after,

"I will always be here, my duty is important, but so are you. Know this, I am always watching over you."

⎯ Syzoth

You've ran off. And Syztoh does not know what to do with himself. He paces, he fidgets, he waits. He must see you again. But you were so hurt beforehand, and he does not know why. You have withdrawn into yourself, without a word. And Syzoth does not know how to comfort you. He knows you are feeling down, horrible even. Yet, he feels as if he has ran you off. His insecurities well up within his mind as he waits. And waits.

And the time comes where you ask him, you reach for him. Your voice quivers. Oh my, how could he have let this happen. He pulls you in, almost bringing you down to the ground. He wraps himself around you, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His nerves calm, in that moment. Muffled, he speaks, his words true and clear, if not a little shaky,

"I waited, my love, and I will stay. I will always be here. Every moment, every moment you need me."

⎯ Havik

Havik is apprehensive. He does not quite understand what to do in this situation. With you, his lover, in front of him, a mess, voice hoarse, your emotions addle your mind. He looks at you dumbfounded. He reaches for you, but his hand does not meet your shoulder. Now, you feel as if you are miles away from him. Space. That is what he understands, now.

But, the space he has given you is broken that night. You find him in bed, intertwining his fingers with yours. His scarred flesh does not scare you, as much would believe. His eyes are warm, peaceful for once. The words are on the tip of your tongue, yet you do not need to speak. Havik answers, regardless,

"Finally. Do not run from me like that again, I do not mean to leave you alone."

⎯ Shao Kahn

To return home, where you are not waiting for Shao in the kitchen, it is a nightmare. The worst is the first thing that runs through his mind. You are lost, perhaps. Taken. But he finds you, safe and well. Back to him, on the edge of the bed. He does not speak, but he lets his presence be known. He lays down on the bed, facing you, and simply watches.

Until it is time for you to speak, you look at him with such sad eyes. He is there. You do not have to ask, for you know the answer. But you ask, anyways. Shao simply reaches a hand out to you, and pulls you back in bed gently. Tonight, he can. Maybe not tomorrow morning, but tonight, he can. And he will,

"I will always stay by your side. I am here to keep you safe, do not forget it."

⎯ Shang Tsung

Shang Tsung pampers you, right out of the gate. He hates to see you like this, so sullen, so quiet. It is his goal to pull you out of this feeling. Even if it hurts his wallet. And yet, it seems his plan falls short. He is disheartened, to say the least. Perhaps he might sulk, as well. But he doesn't, or he tries not to, anyways. He simply follows you around, now. Trying to lift your spirits.

And that only comes when night falls, nestled underneath the covers. Shang Tsung is still close. Extremely close. Yet, you can't help but ask, regardless. And he listens. He chuckles softly, and pulls you in for a quick peck on the lips. For a moment, he stares into your eyes, rolling your words over in his mind. His tone is sly, but his words are, for once, kind,

"There you are, my darling. Of course I'll stay. Who would I be if I didn't? I'll stay forever, if I must."

⎯ Reiko

Reiko wants to be soft with you, and yet, he can't find a way through to you in this moment. He does not understand why you've withdrawn from him. Why you are so somber. He decides that it is space you need, not him. So, he gives you exactly what he believes. Yet, he still keeps an eye on you. He wants to make sure you are safe, regardless. Even as you sulk.

You find him once more at the end of the day, laying in bed. The idea of him, of Reiko, relaxing, seems so odd. Yet, he is lounging. He is waiting. So you speak, and all he can do is look at you. He gestures towards the bed, and you do so. Laying down, he holds you close. Properly. His arms wrapped around the small of your back, your forehead against his chin. And he speaks, finally,

"If I am to say no, then I would rather be decapitated by General Shao himself. Do not ever hesitate to ask, you know I will."

⎯ Erron Black

Outlawin' and Gunslingin' is a hard trade. What's even harder is making sure you are happy. And now, you are pulling yourself away from Erron. This mood you're in... he's going to get you to snap out of it, dammit. And he tries. He tries real damn hard. He flaunts off his skills, just how quick and precise he can fan the hammer, maybe take down some poor bird from the sky. Yet, you still look at him, devoid of emotion.

Erron has all but given up until you find him in the bed that night. Somehow, you look more of a mess then before. And he just can't forgive himself for it. Yet, you still ask. He's dumbfounded, really. He doesn't know what to say. But, his body knows what to do. Absentmindedly, he pulls you into the bed by your hand. He keeps you close, yet still leaves distance between your bodies. His hand finds your cheek and caresses it with his thumb. Finally, he's found his words, and so he speaks, for you,

"Ya ain't gotta worry about me leavin', pumpkin. I'll stay riiiiiiight here, long as ya need."

⎯ Takeda Takahashi

You're quiet. You're so damn quiet and it's almost irritating for Takeda. He can't get to you, he can't break through this heavy, melancholy air around you. He's following you around, regardless. He's going to find out why you're acting like this, and if it's because of someone, he won't mind sweating a little. But it isn't. It isn't cause of anyone, it isn't cause of him. It's cause of you. And now, he truly doesn't know what to do. So he backs off.

Until you find him once more, seeking his attention. His touch. His comfort. Takeda doesn't deny this, as you slink into bed, behind him. You tap him on the shoulder gently, and he turns his head back to you. Before he can speak, you ask. The lightbulb goes off in Takeda's head, and suddenly, he feels horrible. You didn't need him following you around like a bodyguard all day, nor did you need the bombardment of questions. You simply needed him. So, he responds,

"Don't scare me like that, dammit. Of course I'll stay, but just... yeah, yeah. I'll stay."

1K notes · View notes

quimichi · 7 months

Note

do you still do twisted wonderland requests? if so can i request self aware dorm leaders being called "good boy"??

『 ↳✧･ﾟ CALLING THE DORM LEADERS YOUR GOOD BOY ;

Dorm Leaders x Creator!Reader

Riddle - Off with your head!

"Do you enjoy your tea?"

"Mm. The tea is most delicious, Yuu. " Riddle speaks with the utmost sincerity, his words sweet and grateful. Even though his tea cup has long been empty since he finished it, he holds it in his hand, his gaze fixed on it lovingly. He looks up at you, his head still bowed in worship, adoration. He smiles, his eyes warm and bright, all of his adoration and fondness directed towards you.

"Im glad my good boy likes his tea" you smile warmly at him before sipping at your own tea again. Riddle's smile widens, and he bows his head further.

Your good boy.

He looks up at you, his worship and fondness directed towards you, and he speaks, his voice soft and low.

"Thank you, Yuu. I adore you, you know?"

"I adore you, Riddle" his face flushes as he sits before you. He bows his head and lowers his gaze like he always does at your touch, but, with his skin now slightly red, he smiles softly to himself.

He shifts slightly. This feels so safe here.

"As long as you adore me, Your Grace… I am complete." At least one person treats him right in his life, unlike HIS MOTHER.

Leona - The king, huh…?

"Enjyoing your nap?" "Huh?" Leona glances around. He was indeed enjoying a peaceful nap before the sudden voice. Leona is often sleeping when you see him, but that is partly because he spends most of his time in your room. He sleeps there more than anywhere else.

He stretches, his limbs feeling heavy as he wakes up. He yawns, and nods his head as he responds. "Oh, yes. I was." "Did my good boy at least sleep well?"

"Yes," he says immediately, a flush spreading over his cheeks. He hates how much emotional control you had gained over him in the past month's. And damn you for calling him that…"I did."

He is embarrassed to admit that his night had been pleasant and pleasant dreams had come to visit him while he slept. His dreams are often full of your voice, your face, and sometimes even your touch.

These thoughts send his heart into overdrive in an instant. Fuck you for making him falling for you. You damn herbivore.

He is utterly enraptured by you. There's a strange glint in his eyes, an intensity that burns deep into his soul. Need, greed, want.

"Hm," he nods slowly, the only word he can manage before turning around in your bed and going back to sleep.

Azul - How poor and unfortunate you are

Azul's eyes flicker with uncertainty, but he would never hesitate to obey your instructions. Come closer to you…its simple, yet so hard. "Yes," he whispers, and he rises to come to you. His feet are swift and silent as he crosses the space separating you, his eyes ever vigilant for your every command.

"Sit with me" you said gentle. Despite whatever doubts Azul may have had moments before, they are quickly forgotten as soon as you command him to sit. Without another word, he lowers himself to sit beside you in obedience. His lips curve into a small smile as he gazes at you, happy to be near you.

Luckily Jade and Floyd aren't around, if they would, he already would've been teased into the ground.

"Youre my good boy aren't you Azul~?" with your hand on his cheek, your hot breath on his ear, who is he to say disagree. Once again, Azul flinches at your approval, but he can't disagree. "Of course, Yuu" he answers in a soft voice.

He smiles at you, and you can almost swear he's a child in his demeanor. He is utterly and completely devoted to you. Your approval is like the sun in the sky to him.

"I'm your good boy."

Kalim - Sing, dance!

"You seem tired" your soft voice lurrs him to you, he wants nothing more to lay in your arms now. "Yes," Kalim mumbles before trailing off. He blinks as if the idea hadn't occurred to him before. That party maybe was…a little to much

Yet, the moment the thought comes to him, it is the only feeling that consumes him; he is consumed with the weariness of his day.

Kalim's eyelids close, as if he has only now realized that he should have been sleeping this whole time, and he leans forward to rest his head on your lap.

"I… wish to sleep," he whispers, "with you…"

"My good boy can finally sleep now" At your command, kalims's eyes flutter closed, and he allows himself to settle into a much-needed sleep.

The only sound he emits from that point onward is a low, contented hum as he falls into the deep, peaceful slumber that you have granted him. After all his favorite pillows will always be your thighs. You wouldnt mind sitting there all night just for him to rest comfortably, although Jamil would lecture you both the next morning.

But Kalim couldn't care less, as he falls asleep with the lovliest words ever said to him echoing in his mind, good boy

Vil - Every rose has its thorn. But isn't that part of their charm?

"Rough day?" Of course he had a rough day, once again Neige seems to be better fkmor everyine else again. He didn't get the model job he so long waited for "Yes," Vil replies, gracefully dropping in front of his mirror. There is a tension to his tone, as if there is something he wants to say but cannot bring himself to admit. He looks up at you, his gaze sharp and piercing as if trying to gauge some kind of mood.

He gently removes his make up before he speaks again "I cannot… I mean��"

"I," Vil tries again. He bites his lip, and his gaze flicks back to his thighs. His fists are clenched, and he fights back the urge to punch something, anything, to let out the frustration.

His voice is barely above a whisper, but you can hear him. If only he could articulate what needs to be said. If only he did not choke on his words, as if something is caught in his throat.

"How long," he rasps, "until I'm worthy enough for everyone?"

You careful went over to him and hug his back while looking into his eyes trough the morror, "My good boy, youre more than enough for me.." Vil sighs, the sound of release escaping his lips. He can feel his chest loosen along with the tension that he'd been holding onto, and the anxiety that had been building up seems to melt away with the hug.

Nobody in this world is as perfect as you.

Idia - Dun-da-da-da-dun! Level up!

"Are you busy right now?" Idias eyes flick up from the computer screen, startled as he hears your voice. He doesn't dare to speak unless he is spoken to, he feels like if he'd start the conversation instead odf you it'll turn out horrible.

His expression is one filled with worry; worried that you find him inadequate, worried that he'll fail you. The weight of all his worries is starting to become too much for him to handle, and it shows on his face. "I uhm…was just fighting the last boss on this quest"

"Would you mind if i watch?" Idia looks up at you, eyes wide.

He can barely breathe, such is his joy at the possibility of spending time with you. He nods, a soft smile breaking out on his face. He seems so different than the introverted person everyone knows him — he's softer, happier, and more at ease now that he's with you. "Whoa, my good boy is so goof at this" you mumbled to yourself, but you also made sure he heard you. He deserves the praise after all

Idia's eyes fill with shook, but they spark with joy when you praise him. His smile only broadens, to outstanders it may look, manic.

The way you're soft voice was calling him that had his heart pounding for you for eternity.

Malleus - You aren't afraid of me. But I'm starting to become afraid…of losing you.

"Did you enjoy this walk?" "M-Yes, indeed…" Malleus mumbles, his body nearly melting at your touch of your hands touching. The soft sound of his voice is almost enough to make you forget that you've already reached Ramshackle. For a moment, he seems almost… bashful. When he speaks, he glances down at you with soft, adoring eyes.

It takes you a moment to realize that his cheeks are still flushed pink- it's rare to see such a reaction from Malleus. In fact, you've never seen him look quite so… flustered.

"Im glad my good boy enjoyed himself"

"You… you think I'm your good boy?" Malleus murmurs softly, staring down at you from beneath his eyelashes. His voice is almost a purr in its softness. "You want… you want me to stay with you forever?"

Malleus is trembling in your hold, but it has nothing to do with his anger or anything, its excitement. He cannot muster the energy or strength to do anything but stare down at you, breath hitching. Your question has turned his thoughts to mush. His mind is elsewhere entirely-- but with you nearby, he isn't opposed to staying as close as he can.

"Marry me…" he breathes.

"Wha-"

#twisted wonderland x reader #self aware twst #Self aware twisted wonderland #riddle x reader #leona x reader #malleus x yuu #vil x reader #azul x jamil #kalim x reader #idia x reader

1K notes · View notes

grugruel · 1 month

Text

Say it Again

Pairings: Cooper Howard x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: For a long time, there'd been a quiet, reciding fondness between you and your companion. And when you finally journey back to your old vault, feelings are stirred from the depths and brought to the surface.

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: (mentions of blood, violence, death), angst, pinv sex, passionate sex, strong feelings, "I love you", pet names (darlin', sweetheart, honey), hair pulling (squint and you'll miss it), overstimulation, creampie, praise (both recieving).

AN: Not yet proofread! Let me know what yall think about the music inserts. I figured since its such a big part of the fallout universe, I might aswell ad it in a fic too! Enjoy yall!!

The vault was open. . . It took my mind a few moments to wrap around the idea.

The thought of it being perpetually shut was so hard-wired into my being that I would've thought the gaping door a hallucination had it not been for my own departure a few months prior.

And I knew- I knew it ment nothing good. But perhaps they'd all left–alive, wandering the wasteland in search of better luck–a better life.

♪ Yes, pretending that I'm doing well

A familiar melody rang faint, barely reaching through the howling wind as it sang up a storm of scorching sand, whipping and tearing at my clothes.

In abivalence, I made my way toward the facade. Eyes examining the number 33 written in a bold, weathered font on the hefty external door.

A pang of guilt hit me–maybe I shouldn't have left, maybe I could've prevented whatever happened here. With the inhale of a calming breath, I stepped up to the construction, running the flat of my palm along the beaten but familar metal.

Then, without so much as a single thought of caution, I stepped over the threshold. The safety of a vault- my vault, was too fresh in my mind. That allong with the trust I placed in the hands of my shadow, suspecting his vigilance to be enough for the both of us.

Tracing the cool, grand archway with my fingertips as I entered, feeling the wear of oxidisation on its surface. Such a small detail I'd never payed any mind to before. How aged it was, yet still standing strong. A reminder of its resilience- of its impenetrable metal, planned to withstand outside threats for hundreds of years. And now, there it stood–wide open. The derision of the situation nagged me terribly.

♪ I'm lonely but no one can tell

When no longer veiled by the wind, the song sang clearly, its notes reverberating throughout the metal in a forboding fashion. Setting off a feeling of unease in the pit of my stumache.

While I stood familiarising myself again, I could feel a pair of eyes watching me, observing me. Monitoring my grief-struck and conflict ridden mind with a commiserating gaze. Their constant and reassuring prescence hovering behind me in semblance of a specter, keeping a respectful distance as my mind worked through what might have transpired while I was away.

♪ Oh yes, I'm the great pretender

The volume grew stronger as we made our way inside, my feet moving with slight hesitation as they clanged along the grated flooring.

♪ Adrift in a world of my own ♪

Stepping on the elevator, I steadied myself against the railing, feeling it vibrate beneath my hands with the frequency of the music. Those sweet well-known tunes only growing more and more eerie as we descended, accompanied by that strange constant hum from the bedrock, from the quiet. A white noise that only lived in vast open constructions such as this. Inhabiting the walls, the floor, and open spaces made from metal and stone.

A shiver ran down my spine, I'd never liked the quiet, despite the volume of the music, the quiet resounded. It'd always made to much noise in my mind.

♪ You've seen and you've left me to dream all alone

But when the doors opened to the floor below, a reassuring hand placed itself on the small of my back, amicably giving me a final push when I'd stood too long hesitating.

And it helped, it really did. The eclipsing stillness of the vault and the distorting of the music softened, fading and returning to that of good times–when they'd still existed.

♪ Too real is this feeling of make-believe

But the possibilities of what I might find ahead launched a gruesome assault on my mind. I tried distracting myself–thud, thud, thud. Our dull steps tapped against the floor. A pair of spurs clicking along with the steady rythm, leather groaning. Turns out I could only hear him, and I prefered it that way.

♪ Too real when I feel what my heart can't conceal

It was a better focus then the constant searching for bloodsplatter and unmoving bodies, splayed out on the floor or tucked into a corner, seeking shelter, protection–spurs, leather-

I snapped back, the lyrics echoing in my mind and bouncing of the walls simultaneously, resonating throughout the empty halls as I jumped off of that dark train of thought before it could spiral further. The hands scrunched the fabric of my clothes, silently checking on me, attempting to refocus my mind. On the music, on him, anything was better.

♪ Yes, I'm the great pretender

I followed the words, thinking of the ones before and those to come. I still remember the list of songs. They'd played during weddings and social gatherings. We had them in our houses. I remember dancing in the kitchen, with swaying to the music with those I love. It was one of those moments which you knew you'd remeber forever, which would become a core part of you. Always to be looked back on, and sure enough.

I could't help myself from smiling, such fond memories. In my peripheral, his eyes softened. Still keeping his vigilant watch over my well-being, returning my smile with no intention of ever telling me, unkowing that I had indeed noticed him as he did so.

♪ Yes, just laughing and gay like a clown

But now, as I wandered the abandoned halls of the vault, they were only a tragic reminder of a time gone by–yet, I could see no bodies, no evidence of a fight or struggle–relief flooded through me. However, I still didn't dare make my way down to the compost section, I'd walked that path to many times on my last day here.

♪ I seem to be, what I'm not, you see

The hand angainst my back brushed my clothed skin with a thumb, circling a vertebra, moving to squeeze my arm as it then fell back to his side. The loss of his touch was dissapointing, but the closeness of his body made up for it.

We took a turn, away from the chance of decaying bodies and toward the fields of crop. I wanted to see it one last time, remember that last wedding–the good times, before I left and the place had become this, before it was reduced to a graveyard of memories.

♪ And I'm wearing my heart like a crown

I found my eyes wandering as we walked, constantly sliding to the man beside me. An aching arose in my heart, the two of us could've been something real sweet. Something true, something strong. If only we had the freedom of chance and opportunity. But as it were, we simply coexist, solely striving to survive in a world swallowed up by nuclear waste and feral brutality. I don't know what I would've done without him, it was a long road for us to grow this close–we didn't get along too well when we first met.

♪ Oh yes, I'm pretending and praying that you're still around

The music tunes out, fading into quiet nothing, like dust particles leaving rays of light–simply seizing to exist. I felt the comparison too familiar for my liking, turns out anything is just a methapor for something else.

After waiting patiently and biding it's time, that strange hum takes up again. Making me wish he'd hold me steady, a d let the drumming of his heart be the only thing I hear. A wish that frequented my mind a lot as of late.

It's interesting how much you learn about yourself and the world when leaving the safety of your vault. The most ironic thing–radiation, and the fact that its the least to be worried about on the surface, the real danger being what dwells in the midst of it. Creatures–beasts, savages and monsters. The rad mutated animals are nothing compared to the barabarians that the human species have become, I really had no idea what stripping someone of their basic needs and a guaranteed future could do to a person before I entered the wasteland. And now, I cant help but marvel at the fact that only a few have resorted to eating eachother and worshipping radiation.

Dog-eat-dog is an old expression that comes to mind. Apparently it was used way before all of this befell us, and I can't help but imagine how bad we could've been back then to create such a phrase in a law-abiding society. But they were the poeple to destroy the world and we to rebuild it, so perhaps its not that strange after all.

Either way, I don't remember it personally. I wasn't alive back then, but it was told to me by someone who was.

The next song started up, the sorrowful tune keeping the deafening white noise at bay, and as I had predicted the list, it was my favorite to be played.

♪ There's a place where lovers go

To cry their troubles away ♪

The tape, surely damaged–played a slower version than I remembered, but it was all the same to me as I let it envelop me in a veil of comfort before finally laying eyes on what we'd come here for–corn. I felt their green stems beneath my fingers as I walked along the field, it was a miracle they were even alive and surviving whatever hardships they'd encountered. Another metaphor.

There came a rustling behind me, my companion doing the same as I had. A scarred hand reaching out to slide his fingers through the crop, keeping a stunned expression on his face, the corners of his lips curling upward.

♪ And they call it Lonesome Town

Where all the broken hearts stay ♪

It must've been a long time for him since feeling something living like this. Much, much longer than it had for me. And I'd just taken it all for granted.

Keeping our pace, we followed the path through the crops until fianlly, the familiarity of a huge wall welcomed me home.

Surrounding me was a vast sky with millions of stars and endlessly stretching mountains, following a path so distant I could not spot the end, all the while the high moon cast silvery blue light upon the world. A projection of the Nebraskan countryside. I used to stare at it for hours, dreaming myself away to a place that no longer existed. 'Did it really look like this? The world- I mean.' I hatched out of me.

♪ You can buy a dream or two

To last you all through the years ♪

'It sure did.' My companion turned to face me, choosing a lesser view over the pretty one before him. He was a mere arms-length away. 'It could be real beautiful.' He said, his eyes roaming my face.

♪ And the only price you pay

Is a heart full of tears ♪

He was a brute, that is true. He was the outcome of living through literal hell, but he'd fared quite well through it all in my opinion. He had his humanity left, which is more than I can say for the majority of the population. Charming and quick-witted, dangerous and cold. He'd seen who we were and what we had become, it's no wonder he acted the way he did. But it was all the same to me, he was strong and handsome, he could even by kind-hearted at times, and I loved him through it all.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

The implication made me blush, and shy away from his eager eyes while I averted my own, leading them back to the contryside. 'I wish I could've seen it.' I tried to focus, studying the sight meticulously, jotting down every detail in my mind. I hadn't had time the last time I was here- not to dwell. Too late now it seemed, the memory resurfacing with a passion as my eyes drifted over the scorching cloud in the sky, burned into the irreplaceable film. My lips drew into a thin line as I swallowed, it was reality, it was life. But it didn't stop my stumache from churning, the stench of wet metal revisiting my nose.

♪ Goin' down to Lonesome Town

To cry my troubles away ♪

A scarred hand reached up to brush strands of hair from my face, again, distracting me mercifully. Rough knuckles gently sliding over my cheek and the neighing of my jaw. 'I wish you could too.' He grasped my chin between this thumb and index finger, tilting my face upwards, our gazes meeting eachother.

♪ In a Town of broken dreams

The streets are filled with regret ♪

I leaned into his touch, for it was rare. Rare that he allowed himself simple pleasures such as touching me, even though I would willingly give myself to him at a moments whim. 'I love you.' I whispered. 'Please, please let me.'

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I can learn to forget ♪

The music glitched, the sound warping spookily as the needle scratched and jumped the groves in the needle. Shutting off for a second and then coming back on, restarting the song.

He shook his head, eyes uncharacteristically soft as met mine. Uncharacteristic to anyone but me. 'I can't feel ya', sweetheart.' He reclaimed his hand and took a step back, squeezing it into a fist, frustration shaking it as he cursed himself. The music tuned out, and all I see was the blue light contrasting his red-burnt skin, enforcing its texture as shadows settled in the contours and the pale silver on his high points. All I could hear were his words, the frustration and insufficiencies hinding in his tone, mirroring my own. 'Can't feel your fuckin' softness, cant feel your skin.'

'You can–' I followed his movement, gaining on the distance he'd created between us. '–it might not be ideal, but it's us.' I slid my fingers along his clothed arm, grabbing his coarse hand.

'I'm here, not perfect, and that's what you can feel. Imperfection. . . It's something that belongs to us.' I gave him a faint smile, doing my best to reassure him. To truly make him understand.

'I dont deserve you.' He leaned his forehead against mine, his cowboy hat sliding up his head as he did so.

It was my turn to shake my head now. 'Oh, but if you only knew what you desvered.' My voice broke, eyes watering. 'The world, coop. You've been through so much, you survived the bombs dropping for fucks sake, and the following 200 years after that. What you did during those years was for your own survival, please do not ever feel bad about any of it.' The silence that ensued became too long, too deafening. 'I wish you could see yourself through my eyes, so beautiful in your own right.' A tear fell down my cheek.

'I dont feel bad 'bout it sweetheart, thats the problem. I aint any of that, 'm a selfish killer. There's nothin' left of who I were–the good part. . .' his hand slid down my arms, squeezing my biceps to emphasize. '. . .what little good there was, it died a long time ago.' His drawl thick as he spoke, kissing my forehead. 'You can do better, 'n I cant allow those precious years of yours to go to waste on somethin' like me.' He wrapped his arms around me, placing one hand on the back of my head, cradeling it to his chest as he pulled me close, resting his chin on top of my head. The wetness of my cheeks transfering to his shirt. 'Don't cry, sweetheart. Dont cry 'cause of me.' He kissed my forehead again, working his way downward–cheekbone, jaw and finally–my lips.

His hands slid down the outline of my body, shoulders and ribs, then settled on my waist. He pulled me closer, deepening the kiss in the same motion.

♪ Maybe down in Lonesome Town

I allowed him to kiss me for too long, I allowed him to believe his own words for too long. I pulled free, tearing away to breathe, to lock my eyes on his. 'I dont want who you were, dont you understand?' I cup his face, truly feeling him beneath my fingers, and loving every bump and dent. 'I want who you are now, scars and all. It's not for you to allow me anything. Get that in your head.' My voice had gone harsh, and even though he needed to hear it with all the conviction I muster, I added 'Please. . .' As softly as I could.

♪ I can learn to forget

The last notes of the song died out.

He shook his head as a small, breathless, humorless chuckle erupted from his lips. '. . .I love you too. . .'

♪ Only you

The next song started, the voice vibrating through his bones. A song he'd danced to when it was first released, twirling a life that no longer existed in his arms. He closed his eyes, humming along to the tune as he embraced the memory, arms wrapping tightly around its waist, hugging it lovingly one last time. Then let go.

♪ Can do, make this world seem right

He mouthed the words as he opened his eyes, finding her sweet face looking up at him, his pretty girl. It'd taken him more than he wished to admit, to say those three words. How such meak and fruitless words had cause him so much turmoil, he didn't know.

♪ Only you

Because when he looked at her now–stars projecting in her glimmering eyes, the wetness of tears remaining on her cheeks, anf with the backdrop of a countryside from a bygona era–the prevailing feeling was grief, a mourning over the precious time wasted, time he could've spent in admitant love with her. Holding her, kissing her, loving her. Things he just hadn't allowed himself to concede to, to fall slave under it. To truly feel it from the bottom of his heart–instead, reciding in the pit of it, in some dark, tucked away corner, was the feeling of being lesser and undeserving of her softness, her own kind heart.

♪ Can do, make the darkness bright

'Come.' She said, a faint smile on her lips as she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her. Away from the corn, away from Nebraska. He followed her willingly, blindly trusting her as she pulled him to wherever. He didn't care, as long as he was with her.

♪ Only you and you alone

The music grew fainter, devolving into a sweet hum, a lullig as the distance of the speakers tossed the sound boucing after them, echoing along the vaults longevous walls while they moved through them.

He turned her hand over as they walked, observing it quietly as he rubbed gentle circles into the plush skin of her hand, admiring what softness he could feel, his distorted hands dulling the sense unbareably.

♪ Can thrill me like you do

But it didnt matter in the end. Imperfection is what she'd said, and it belonged to them. His heart ached, eyes drifting over the small form leading him. The way her hair swayed and body moved, he could feel himself harden. Guilting himself. It was love for a woman, a family, that had once driven him to survive- with that life now long gone, it was that beautiful girl infrontnof him that kept him going.

♪ And fill my heart with only love for you

They passed several doors with accompanying mailboxes, until she slowed and halted her steps so suddenly, she almost collided with his chest. Her form stood frozen, contemplating, just as she'd done when they first entered the vault.

A scorched finger rose up to stroke her cheek. 'You alright, sweetheart?'

♪ Oh, only you

'Mhm. . .' She hummed. 'One moment.' And whipped around to face him, opening his saddlebag to rummage through it.

Unsuspectingly, a blush crept it's way up her cheeks, seemingly caused by the intent gaze he focused so tightly on her.

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

They'd just kissed, professed their love. Yet, it was his closeness, his warm breath against her that made her blush. He'd never want to be anywhere else. His gaze wandered, studying the home they stood infront of. Eyes landing on a mailbox, he read the full name aloud with a loving smile on his lips.

'I like the way it sounds when you say it.' She whispered, a coy smile on her lips. Suddenly- her eyes widened, finding what she'd been looking for, she pulled the object out of the bag, holding it up for him to see. An old pipboy.

"Welcome" it read, and as she turned one of the kogs, the door to the house opened.

♪ For its true

It was exactly the way I remembered it, not a detail out of place–rather an added layer of dust coating every surface of the place.

I ran a finger along the top of my scratched desk, gathering a pillow of dust on top of it. And then I saw it, standing lonely and abandoned–my old radio. Glee filled me as I turned it on, reflecting the song that was already playing outside. Filling my little house with soft waves of sweet tunes, all thr while weighing my heart terribly. Strong nostalgia splitting me in two. 'I used to love dancing.' The words left my lips in a soft murmur. 'Some of my favorite memories are from this kitchen, and now. . .' My voice broke. Inspected the dust and rubbed it between my fingers, observing how it crumbled to the floor. Perhaps another meatphor–how I myself am responsible for my old life crumbling.

♪ You are my destiny

A pair of hands found my waist, a chin coming to rest on my shoulder. He pulled me close, my back thudding against a strong chest. 'Its alright. . .' He breathed against my neck. 'We can make new ones.' Kissing my skin softly as he began moving with the music.

♪ When you hold my hand

My lips curled into a smile as I declined my head against his chest, snaking my hand behind his neck as the other fell on top of his hand, squeezing it with gratefulness. 'Thank you.' I whispered.

♪ I understand the magic that you do

He twirled me around, luring a giggle to erupt. He caught and pulled me close again, this time face to face. His eyes were still so clear, such a stark contrast to his muddled skin.

♪ You're my dream come true

The lyrics seemed to speak for us as my fingers interlocked behind his neck, my thumbs brushing his jaw. While his hands squeezed my sides, exhaling a long breath as we swayed, his eyes intently searching mine. 'I love you, sweetheart.'

♪ My dream come true

Without hesitation, my lips met his. 'Then prove it to me Coop. . .' Coyness tugged on my lips, my hands sliding to the buttons of his vest, '. . . Let me feel it.'

♪ Oh-oh, only you

He grinned against my lips. 'Anyhtin' for my girl.' And his hands wrapped around mine, helping them unbutton his clothes, skiding them off of him. Barechested as he was, he twirled me again. Back to chest, he whispered in my ear, 'Your turn, darlin'.'

♪ Can do, make all this change in me

Gladly, with my hands still guided by his touch, I brushed them along my torso, undoing every button of my shirt as I did so and slid it off my shoulders, my bra coming off next. He cupped them eagerly, a groan leaving his lips as he massaged them. Ingiting a pulse deep in my uterus. The music seemed to tune out off my mind, selective hearing I suppose.

Moaning in response, I could feel him harden as he pressed his hips into my ass. 'Need to feel it.'

'Undress.' Was all he said, removing his own clothes as I did mine.

A short moment later, he had my back pinned against a wall and my legs wrapped around his hips as he held me up with a firm arm around my waist–the other busy lining himself up with my core.

Suddenly- he pushed inside, leaving me as a whimpering mess. 'Good girl, sweetheart. . .' He whispered, doing nothing to ease the aching matter. '. . .sound so pretty for me.'

And without warning, he pulled out, and thrusted back into me again with full force. 'Mmh- Fuck!' I cried out. But his lips were on mine before I could fully register how big he was. Again and again, he trusted right into my core. His tongue fighting for control as it battled my own. My body was aching with a burning want for him, a need so strong I already felt myself closing in on my orgasm. '. . .'M gonna cum, Coop. Slow down, p- please. I stuttered the words, strained breaths dividing the sentence.

'Its ok sweetheart, you're doin' so well.' He reassured me, then took my words as a direct command and pushed us off the wall, walked over to the bed and threw us onto it with a cloud of dust kicking up around us.

Obiding my request, he backed up, hooked my legs over his shoulders and re-entered me with a shuddering moan. The feeling of my core effecting him as badly as his member effected me. With one hand burried in my hair, the other palmed a breast while his lips found my neck, gently taking my skin between his teeth as he pushed so deep inside me I almost screamed, but managed to bite my lip to keep quiet. That's when I felt him shake his head against me. 'Don't go all quiet, let me hear ya', honey.'

And so I did, releasing a string of curses disguised as moans while I wrapped my arms around his neck, placing kisses on his cheek while nuzzling my face against him. But I felt that blinding pressure building again, slower this time, but with an unrelenting force.

His warm breaths against my neck accompanied by the feeling of him inside me and the slick sound we created had my head swimming. It was too much, too fast. But this time, I wanted it. '. . .'M close Coop.' I whimpered.

'Me too, honey. Real fuckin' close.' He panted, voiced muffled as he kissed and sucked at my neck, hands fisting my hair and squeezing my breast. His thrusts began faltering as we both approached climax. 'Fuck, feel so good.' He cursed, groaning the words in my ear as our bodies rocked together, moving in sync. I was aflame, the pulsing in my body acting the accessory to his own members pulsing inside me. My eyes screwed shut, he felt so fucking good it was a simple reflex.

He kissed his way along my throat, pulling on my hair to angle my jaw for him, his lips trailing along it's sharps points, then up my cheek, settling in my lips. 'Look at me.' He breathed.

I wanted to listen to him, but my eyes did not. The pleasure was to much, the wall inside me so near collapsing-

'Look at me, sweetheart.' He ordered again, his voice sharper this time.

Having no other option I forced myself to open them. But it was worth it, listening to Cooper always was.

'Good girl.' He praised, his lips colliding with mine. And that wall burst, his words being the final battering ram. Tidal waves of pleasure rolled through me, roiling like crashing waves inside me. 'Love you, sweetheart.' He moaned.

No words would ever spur me on like those ones did, my uterus was quaking with every act of him. 'Say it again.' I pleaded.

'I love you' he whimpered. . . Whimpered. Strong and dangerous as he was, he whimpered as he came inside me. His rocking thrust strained as he continuing rutting into me, doing his best to lead us through our orgasms.

'Good boy, Coop. Again. . . Please.' I begged.

And he listened, repeating the words "I love you" against my lips, his voice pitching and breaking from the sheer pleasure he was submitted to. And when moving to softly nip at my ear, he whimpered those same three words in my ear over and over again until I felt a wetness on my cheeks–tears, I realised. He was overstimulating himself, crying as he made love to me. 'Fuck-' he shuddered the word, the slickness he'd created only coaxing more sounds out of him. 'Love you real fuckin' hard, darlin'. . .' He cried again. And I could've reached a second orgasm from that alone.

'I love you too Coop, love you so much. Youre so good to me.' I reassured him, my own voice near a cry as he was putting me through the ringer in the process. Finally, he began slowing down, his entire body shuddering from the way my insides clenched around him, milking the juies out of him. He kissed me one final time, then pulled out and collapsed beside me.

I had to take a moment to collect myself before turning to face him, my hand reaching up to brush the wetness from his cheeks.

His eyes met mine, both full of unconditional love. We laid like that for some time, loosing ourselves in eachothers gazes as we regarded one another in silent contemplation. All the while I could feel his seed leaking out of my core. 'You're a good man, Cooper Howard.' I whispered.

'I do what I can to deserve ya', sweetheart. The day I'm anythin' else but good to you-' He began. But I stopped him, not wanting his thoughts to walk down that road.

'You'll never be anything but good, Coop.' I inclined my head, kissing him softly before I nuzzled my head into the crook of his neck. 'Don't forget it.' My voice a murmur against his strong neck as I slowly drifted off to sleep within the safety of his embrace.

♪ We'll meet again

Hand in hand, our gazes stay on the halls infront of us as we walk back the way we came.

♪ Don't know where, don't know when

My eyes were on the sand as we left, attempting to distract myself by studying the way the the kernels dent beneath my weight. But with a deep breath, I stop and raise my pip-boy clad arm, looking back toward the falling night, toward the empty timecapsule.

♪ But I know We'll meet some sunny day

The words once again faint as they stab through the howling wind. I turn a kog on the pip-boy, and the vault door rolls into motion. The world around us painted in red-pinkish hues as the door's mechanics shut in the echoing vocals completley, the entrance closing with a heavy, reverberating grating sound.

I can feel my heart thudding hard, beating with a sadness and re found happiness. Revisiting my old home had given me melancholy and a new love. 'You coming?' The voice was soft, considering–unwilling to leave my mind wandering through old, lonely thoughts.

'Let's go.' I murmured, my eyes still on the weathered number 33 as the wind whipped at my cheeks.

'Look at me, sweetheart.' my love drawled, gathering my attention, and I redirect my gaze to his. 'We'll come back.'

I nod. 'We will.' A faint smile make its way to my lips as I stood on my toes to place a kiss on his lips.

Then, with his hand in mine, we wandered the wasteland. Searching for better luck–a better life.

#fallout #fallout imagine #fallout smut #fallout fanfic #cooper howard smut #cooper howard #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x female reader #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard fanfic #cooper howard imagine #the ghoul smut #fallout x reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul imagine

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acourtofmishapandmistakes · 22 days

Text

Bumps, Blunders & Baby Kicks

Azriel & Reader Fluff Fic

Summary: As she enters her eighth month of pregnancy with her mate Azriel, the reader struggles with relentless discomfort from perpetual warmth and frequent need to pee. The story is filled with moments of tender comfort and delightful fluff.

Content Warning: Pregnancy, kissing, and accidental punching.

The bedroom sweltered like a furnace, suffocating despite the windows thrown wide open. Outside, the Sidra usually whispered cool breezes that now seemed to have lost their way, leaving only what felt like the heat from a scorching oven, clinging to your skin.

At eight months pregnant, with the weight of your unborn child pressing relentlessly from within, each movement felt like wading through molasses. The thin sheet that once promised some semblance of comfort now lay discarded by your feet. You shifted from your side to sit up, letting out a slight groan. Your hand swept over the curve of your belly. With the other hand, you brushed back the damp tendrils of hair that had glued themselves to your forehead, each strand saturated with sweat.

You let out a frustrated humph, struggling to take a deep breath, a task that had become increasingly difficult these days. You glanced at the empty space beside you on the bed. In the first few months of your pregnancy, Azriel had been almost inseparably attentive, hardly letting you out of his sight. He doted on you endlessly, always touching you, constantly checking if you were okay. By the third month, his constant vigilance had nearly driven you to smother him with a pillow while he slept. While you cherished the increased presence of your mate, his overprotectiveness had begun to feel suffocating, and you had gently nudged him to resume his duties at the Night Court, though with less risk involved.

You had returned to your work in the library after overcoming your morning sickness, determined not to be treated differently just because you were pregnant. The idea of being seen as weak or fragile irked you deeply. So you resisted, sometimes pushing yourself too hard, often ending your days exhausted and spent.

Azriel was reluctant to spend nights away, he valued these evenings with you, cherishing the time before your new babe arrived. However, it didn’t seem right for him to skip the meeting in the Summer Court, especially when that relationship was still in its infancy. Azriel had given you a long, passionate kiss, promising to return home as soon as he could. He then gently cupped your belly, whispered something too soft even for your fae ears to catch, and kissed your stomach. With that tender gesture, he winnowed away to the River House to meet with Rhys.

You gently ran your hand up and down the curve of your stomach. “Is it as hot in there for you as it is out here?” you murmured to your babe. As you fluttered your fingers across the top of your belly, the babe responded with a lively kick. Azriel had thoroughly enjoyed discovering all the ways to engage with the babe, from talking to them to gently pressing your belly to feel them push back. Each time you felt a kick, you’d call out to him, and no matter where he was, he’d appear in moments, eager to place his hands over yours and feel the movement too. He had been so disappointed when he missed the first of those tiny, internal kicks.

At the tiny kick, a smile spread across your face. Then, abruptly, you felt an overwhelming urge to pee—a sensation that seemed to dominate your days lately. Sighing, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and carefully stood up, arching your back in an attempt to ease some of the persistent ache. You stretched your arms high above your head, trying to loosen the tightness that gripped your body.

You ambled into the adjoining bathroom, the soles of your feet gently padding on the hardwood floor—a gracious gift from Feyre and Rhys when they learned of your pregnancy. The townhouse was your sanctuary. While Cassian had insisted that you and Azriel stay with him and Nesta at the House of Wind, you had joked that two pregnant females under one roof might leave only one male mate standing. Besides, you cherished the privacy of your own space with Azriel, and he seemed delightfully committed to "christening" every surface of your new home.

You paused by the large bathroom mirror, taking a moment to admire your side profile. Gently, you ran your hands over the curve of your stomach, tugging at the oversized t-shirt you'd claimed from Azriel after your own clothes had become too snug.

That’s a nice image, Azriel's voice echoed softly in your mind, his words a warm mental caress that brought an instinctive smile to your lips.

What are you doing up? you sent back to him, your mental voice tinged with a mix of surprise and warmth. Normally, you kept your side of the bond open when he was away, though his was often shielded due to his duties. Every now and then, you'd send him mental snapshots of you and the babe whenever he could receive them.

We just got back to our rooms, Azriel replied, his mental presence flickering like a comforting candle in the dark.

You glanced out into the deep, dark night. It has to be close to like 2 in the morning. What kept you out?

Azriel’s chuckle, rich and warm, flowed through the bond. Cassian got into a drinking contest with some of the Summer Court guards. Given his history, neither Rhys nor I thought it was a good idea to leave him unattended.

You couldn’t help but laugh. Fair response. Did he win?

Does anyone win in that situation? Azriel mused. He’s going to have a killer headache tomorrow morning, and I’m going to have to hear him complain about it. Also, I learned he can belch his ABC’s. Which he did. Four. Different. Times.

Oh good, you replied, already picturing the next gathering, I’ll have to ask him to demonstrate next time I can get a few beers in him.

I don’t think you would need to coax him, Azriel responded, amused. He seems pretty proud of himself. A beat passed. Are you doing okay? babe okay?

You stood up, having finished what felt like the longest pee ever. We’re both fine. Your babe just finds it hilarious to sit on mom’s bladder at night. That, and I’m just constantly hot.

Well, we knew that, came Azriel’s cheeky retort, and you could almost see his teasing grin.

I mean because of the pregnancy, you heathen.

I’m sorry my babe keeps making you have to pee. I’ll be sure to address it with them at our next meeting, Azriel joked, his voice soothing even across the distance.

I would appreciate that, you responded with a light laugh, exiting the bathroom and returning to the bedroom. Needing a break from the oppressive indoor heat, you stepped out onto the patio to catch what little coolness the night air could offer. When are you coming home?

Does my beautiful mate miss me that much? Azriel's voice was soft and playful.

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn't see it. Your mate misses the foot massages and back rubs, that’s for sure. And your babe misses your voice. They’re quieter tonight.

His warmth enveloped you through the bond, a comforting embrace from afar. I’ll be home soon, he promised. Just a few more things to wrap up here.

Get some sleep, my love, you urged, feeling the heaviness of your own eyelids as a testament to the late hour.

I’m not the one carrying an unborn child, Azriel teased back.

The babe and I are both heading back to sleep, you responded, settling the conversation toward a close.

Goodnight, my love, and goodnight, my sweet babe. Dada misses you so much. His words were tender, filled with longing. Though no one knew for certain if unborn fae babes could sense their parents through the bond, you felt a heightened awareness from your babe whenever Azriel spoke like this. Perhaps there was something to the old tales after all.

You ran a hand over your stomach once more, a gesture both comforting and connective, then closed your eyes, letting the cool breeze from Velaris ease the persistent warmth enveloping you. After a moment savored in the night's gentle caress, you made your way back to bed, your heart and mind a little lighter, carrying the goodnight wishes of your mate with you into dreams.

Later that same night, you felt the warm caress of a hand pushing your hair from your face. In a flash your eyes open and you punched one hand out into the stomach of whomever was touching you. You jolted up, kicking your way to the other side of the bed, arms drawn in a fighting stance. Azriel doubled over, the air knocked from him.

Azriel sucked in a pained breath, managing to straighten up slightly as he held a hand to his stomach. His shadows fluttered around him, mirroring his surprise and discomfort. "I was just trying to be sweet," he wheezed, a forced grin not quite hiding the sting of your reflexive punch.

Your heart sank a little, guilt mixing with the remnants of your adrenaline rush. "Oh, Az, I'm so sorry. I thought—I didn't realize it was you," you stammered, the initial fear dissipating as quickly as it had surged.

He took a few more deep breaths, regaining his composure, his smile becoming more genuine. "It's alright. I should have known better than to sneak up on a warrior—even one who's eight months pregnant."

You lowered your arms, your stance relaxing, your expression apologetic. "I didn’t mean to hit you. It just... it happened so fast. But also, by the Cauldron Az!”

Azriel finally chuckled, the sound a bit strained but filled with affection. "Trust me, love, I've learned my lesson. Next time I'll make sure I'm not within striking distance when I come to give you a midnight kiss."

"Maybe just stick to verbal greetings from now on—at least during the night," you suggested, half-joking but also serious, not wanting to risk another misfire.

"Protective mom instincts, huh?" he chuckled, his shadows settling back as his breathing eased. “Can I touch you now without getting maimed?" he joked, his tone light but his gaze searching for reassurance.

You nodded, opening your arms in a peace offering. "Come here, you. Just maybe announce yourself next time, especially in the middle of the night.”

“Fair point,” he responded. “Alright, I am going to hug my mate now, and maybe kiss her, depending on how the hug goes,” Az announced.

“I am accepting the hug and aware of what is to come,” you joked back.

Azriel's embrace was a sanctuary of warmth and familiarity, his presence alone soothing the ambient heat that had been your constant companion these past months. The subtle change in his scent—a richer, earthier tone—seemed to ground you further, drawing a deep, content sigh from your lips as you nestled into his hold.

“I thought you wouldn’t be home till tomorrow?” you queried, tilting your head back to look up at him, curiosity lighting your features.

He responded not with words, but with a tender kiss, sealing his lips to yours in a brief, loving gesture. When he drew back, the smile on your face lingered, eyes fluttering open slowly. “I couldn’t sleep, kept thinking about you,” Azriel confessed softly, the hum of his voice vibrating against your skin. “So I left a note for Rhys, letting him know I’d come back early. If he needs me, I can always go back tomorrow.”

“You know, next time you have to go to the ocean side, maybe consider bringing your heavily pregnant wife who currently runs at about ten thousand degrees so I can get some of that ocean air,” you suggested playfully, your lips puckering slightly in anticipation of another kiss.

Azriel's laughter melded into the kiss, his breath mingling with yours in a dance as intimate as the touch. The kiss deepened, and his hand found its way to your belly, thumb caressing the life within with a reverence that had grown over the months. His connection to both you and the babe deepened in these moments, a bond visible in his every gentle touch and loving glance.

The babe responded to his touch with a small kick, a tiny but sure presence making itself known. You placed your hands over his.

Azriel broke the kiss to lower his head toward your belly. “Hi little one,” he murmured affectionately, his lips pressing a soft kiss there. Another kick met his greeting, a silent echo of recognition. “Were you good to your mama while dada was gone?” he asked, voice playful yet filled with genuine curiosity.

“They were fine, a little restless earlier today when we were out on a walk, but other than that, they’ve been quiet,” you answered, running your fingers through Azriel's hair, anchoring him close, his head cradled against your stomach.

Azriel wrapped his arms around your hips as you stayed there together for a moment. He pressed another kiss to your stomach before resting his chin atop your swollen belly looking up at you. You leaned forward and gave him a soft peck on the forehead. “Az,” you started.

“What, my love?” He asked back, smiling.

“I have to pee.” You said, pushing him back from you.

You hauled your body from the bed and scooted into the bathing room, hearing from over your shoulder, “You always have to pee.”

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starshipsofstarlord · 1 month

Text

locked away

summary. whilst hiding out from walkers in a closet, you grow extremely bored. the only thing to do is daryl, but you have to make sure he stays quiet

warnings. smut, handjob, sub!daryl, dom!reader, praising, mentions of gagging, crying

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

The aroma of cigarette smoke that clung addictively to his clothes filled your nostrils as you hid in union together, avoiding the stream of deadly walkers that marched in their haphazard staggering through the wide hallway. There had been worse that you survived through, so as long as you didn’t alert the parasites that filled the decayed human bodies of your presence, you would be fine.

Boredom struck you after the first hour of leaning all of your weight against the chipped brick wall, listening without consent to the groans and growls of the dangerous passers-by. If you had a nickel for each time you expressively rolled your eyes that had adjusted to the shadows which conjured a graphite colouring to which you could see, you would be astoundingly rich in a world without cash currency.

You had an impulse to blabber out the most random thoughts that appeared intrusively in your mind, although you were sure if you dared to your beloved Daryl would gag your mouth with that dirty red rag and tell you to shut up; and it wouldn’t be a first time for that. Your shoulders slumped defeatedly as the pressing circumstances of the long and drawn out waiting game refused to come to an end.

How many goddamn walkers were out there? Actually that was an answer you’d rather not find out whilst you were contained in a narrow closet which was consumed with lacklustre silence. Daryl wouldn’t even meet your eyes in the dark space, sternly pent up from your antics during the run that had lead you into being entrapped by your own free will and vigilance to live another day. He was pissed, and worst of all in this circumstance; turned on.

His pools of pitiful blue distinctly avoided your gaze, trying his darnest to focus on the stakes that were against you both. But he was pursued by a cloaking of consuming lust, his shoulders rigid as he thought repeatedly of your earlier words. If you’re a good boy, then maybe we’ll have some fun before we get home. It wasn’t likely to happen now, the bowman thought intuitively, sharply discarding the sweet images of pleasing you from his brain.

These walkers were preying risk to more than just his life, he felt like he could explode from the overbearing desire to feel your hands rake upon his entire body, and he mentally cursed as he felt his cock spring to life at just the the sinful thought. He grunted in solitary longing, pacing with light and feline like steps as much as he could in the limited ground that was cemented in the storage room.

“Something wrong?” You almost inaudibly spoke, cocking your head as the corners of your mouth twitched in mocking amusement, and he would have whined in response if there wasn’t the threat of the passing walkers merely inches away. “Come here, let me help you baby.” His head was lowered in a submissive bow as he followed your command, creeping towards you until your chests were all but touching.

It was something you adored, to see Daryl in such a state, and it made you feel powerful without any limits. The flow of your bloodstream began to pound with revelations with what you could make your obedient man disperse himself to. It was like he was a buffet of possibilities, however his arousal was rubbing against your thigh, making you recall his desperation, and it would be satire and cruel for you to allow him to suffer without your amorous caregiving.

You shuffled, keeping a balance on your body weight so that you didn’t accidentally stagger backwards into the buckets or moulding mops that were leant against the wall to your left, as you lowered your hands to his wide hips, giving him an affectionate squeeze before you turned him in your embrace so that his back was facing your front.

Admittedly there were times where you loved to listen to him beg and cry for lustrous attention, but now was not the time; neither one of you could make so much as a speck of noise, it was going to be difficult as often times Daryl would draw out long and pathetically attractive moans each time you held contact with his cock in any manner, but he would just have to be quiet somehow, and if he couldn’t control himself, you had ideas of how to make him.

“Be a good boy.” You whispered with sultry warning in his ear as you reached further around him, slowly and tantalisingly unweaving his belt, pulling the strip of leather through the flimsy loops which granted you access to undo the button and fly of his trousers. With swift motions you did so, carefully shoving them down his sides as his cock was released from its containment. It was leaking defiantly with precum, and he resorted to calming breaths as he steadied his own self into being relaxed despite the nearby danger.

He inhaled immediately as he felt one of your hands wrap perfectly around his achingly hard length, gliding up and down the taught and erect flesh which made him throw his long locked head back in pleasure. His eyelids twitched as he fought against his desire to let you know how utterly amazing you were making him feel, as he bit his own bottom lip over and over. You dared to increase the pace in which you were stroking him, and a shattered gasp tumbled past his bared teeth.

Without so much as a thought, you smothered his mouth with your hand, pinching his nose a couple of times between your thumb and forefinger to restrain the oxygen he was permitted for a few seconds. A vibration riveted against your palm, as a quiet moan was silenced by your restriction. His whole body was rattling, as he began to rut his hips so that his cock was moving in the grasp of your soft hand.

“Such a good baby.” Your breath hit his ear as you forbade yourself from saying anything else, knowing that it would be obscenely dangerous, and the hoard of vacantly minded walkers were more than capable of pushing through the locked door. Your thumb rubbed expertly against his tip, as tears began to fill Daryl’s eyes, however he continued to jerk into your grip, and soon they fled from his tear ducts. His salt water, pleasure filled tears rolled onto your hand, weaving across your flesh as his tongue rolled pathetically around your palm, losing any grounding to reality that he had.

It drove you on farther, moving your hand at a quicker pace to make him spill over the edge, and with one last tough tug, he expelled his seed from his balls, it shooting directly in the air for a moment, and landing vividly on the ground. Daryl continued to shake like a leaf, breathing a kind kiss to your palm as he held your hand against his mouth for a while longer. This was definitely an interesting tale, however you would never tell anybody else. Everyone else thought Daryl was the being of all dominance in your relationship, and it made you inwardly cackle at how wrong you were.

He was as submissive as a human could come (pun intended), and he stood there idly and cautiously as you aided him in tucking his cock back into his confines. You grappled his belt, pulling it back around into its holding as you pulled it tightly around his waist, your eyes glowing with the satisfaction that you could make him so easily crumble. With one last pat to his sensitive bulge, you waited a while longer, until the coast was clear and it was only a few stragglers of the herd to take out in order to make your unruly escape.

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