#boring things but send in prompts! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

finniestoncrane · 10 days

Note

Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3

Different Up Here

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly

If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.

"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"

Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.

"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."

A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.

"Heh, that's a new one for out here."

Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.

"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"

"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."

"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."

You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.

That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.

Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.

"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"

Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.

"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."

You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.

"No, no no no no no. Just..."

The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.

"... fooling around... y'know?"

Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.

"Oh... oh darlin'."

He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.

"I don't think you're ready for that at all."

You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.

"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"

"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"

"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."

Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.

"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."

"Why? Sex is sex..."

You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.

"... Isn't it?"

"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."

The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.

"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."

His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.

"No, sir."

"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"

As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir."

You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.

You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.

And luckily, he seemed agreeable.

"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"

Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.

It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.

"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."

"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"

Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.

"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."

His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.

"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."

"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"

Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.

"Well, it's something like this."

He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.

Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.

Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.

"Well?"

"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."

"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"

He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.

"You like that? Like it rough?"

"I think... I think I like both."

"So, something like this?"

He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.

You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.

"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."

Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.

"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."

His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.

"Did they make you feel good?"

"No."

You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.

"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"

"A little..."

Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.

"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."

His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.

“And what about these pretty lips?”

Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.

“They touch these lips, huh?”

You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.

“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”

As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.

“Do it slowly though.”

Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.

“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”

You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.

“Turn around though. You face that way.”

The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.

“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”

A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.

The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.

It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.

“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”

His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.

“Don’t you dare, little lady.”

“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”

He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.

“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”

“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”

“I absolutely will not.”

Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.

Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.

“I am warning you, missy.”

“Cooper… I can’t stop…”

You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.

“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”

“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”

Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.

“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”

“Cooper…”

“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”

“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”

“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”

The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.

“Come on, darlin’, come on…”

Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.

As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.

“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”

You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.

“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”

As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.

“Alright then, get onto your knees.”

Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.

You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.

It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.

“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”

The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.

He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.

“Can I taste it… you?”

Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.

“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”

You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.

A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way. Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.

Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.

“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”

He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”

You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.

“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”

It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.

“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”

Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.

He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.

“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”

You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.

Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.

And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.

“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”

He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.

“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”

“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”

“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”

You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.

Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.

“Bigger than before?”

You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.

“Better?”

“Mhm…”

“Speak up, darlin’.”

With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.

“Yes… it’s better.”

“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”

Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.

“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”

“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”

Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.

“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”

You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.

“Ah… Cooper…”

“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”

There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.

“A little…”

Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.

His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.

“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”

He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.

“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”

You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.

“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”

With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.

“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl… good girl…”

It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.

And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.

You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.

“Did I say you could get up?”

Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.

“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”

Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.

“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”

Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.

When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.

“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”

“M-more?”

More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.

“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”

#fallout #fallout amazon #if this flops I’ll nuke everything by the way this fuckin behemoth stressed me out so much lmaooo #x reader #finnie writes #cooper howard #the ghoul #fallout fic #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard one shot #cooper howard smut #cooper howard imagine #fallout tv #fallout tv series #walton goggins #cooper howard x fem!reader

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crashandlivewrites · 3 months

Text

I Need Your Discipline

My participation in @glitterypirateduck's SoapItUp event! I was initially gunning for Captain MacTavish but it wasn't coming together. Maybe I can get a second one out before the deadline.

Pairing: Soap x fem!reader

Summary: Soap 'accidentally' sends you a dick pic. You decide to teach him how to take nicer photos. Using prompt 29: "Was this your plan the entire time?"

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering (f receiving), unsolicited dick pic, consensual sending of nudes, coming in underwear

Word Count: 3.6k (it really got away from me whoops)

Captain Price had your attention all the way up until your phone buzzed in your pocket. Frowning, you took it out. You hadn’t been expecting a message from anyone and usually during meetings, you flicked it to only allow messages from fellow army personnel. Maybe you’d forgotten this time.

One glance at the screen told you that Soap had messaged, which wasn’t surprising. He often got bored and liked to pick jokes during Price’s long debriefs. However, when you snuck a glance at him, he wasn’t paying any attention to you like he usually would be while waiting for a reaction. Frowning, you opened his message.

It was his dick. Holy shit, Soap had sent you a picture of his penis. Suppressing a snort and shutting off your phone, you jerked your head up in confusion, trying to catch his attention, but he was acting completely engrossed with your Captain’s words. Sure, he’d always been light-hearted and playful, rubbing shoulders flirtatiously and throwing an arm around you any chance he got, but you’d also seen him out at the pub when he was actually trying to get in someone’s pants. And it had never seemed that way when he was taking to you, as much as you wanted it. Until now.

Glancing back down at the message, you realised there was another message after it.

> Just got back. Ready to hit pound town?

This time, you only just managed to cover your snort with a cough, earning the briefest of glances from Kyle sitting to your right. Quickly, you type a reply.

< Not the welcome home present I was expecting from you, MacTavish

Soap reached into his pocket a few moments later, pulling out his phone with a smirk on his face to read the message. His face then morphed into confusion before his eyes visibly widened and snapped up to meet yours. Raising your eyebrows, you tilted your head questioningly at him. His fingers flew over the keys.

> Fuck. That wasn’t for ye. I’m really fucking sorry

< Ouch. Nice to know I’m not good enough for your dick pics

> Shoulda told me ye were feelin left out. Coulda sent one to ye earlier. Would that make ye feel better?

< Nah. Received too many dick pics in my time. There are nicer ways to take nudes

Soap lifted his head, brow creasing and lips pouting as though insulted at your statement. You grinned back at him, shrugging as you waited for him to reply.

> My dick is pretty, thanks. Plenty of girls have liked it

< Didn’t say that. Just saying there’s nicer ways to take hot pics than just a straight up dick shot

> Oh yeah? Like what?

Biting your lip, you wondered if you really wanted to do this. You watch Price momentarily as you thought through the pros and cons of sending your teammate a nude of your own.

Pro: you’re sending a hot picture of yourself to the guy you’ve been crushing on

Con: he may not be interested in you

Pro: if things go south, you also have his dick pic to hold ransom

Con: he’s less likely to be embarrassed by his dick getting passed around base. Especially when it looked like THAT.

You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head, waiting for your response. sucking in a deep breath, you scroll through your private photos, selecting one of your favourites. The picture accentuated your body as you were leaning against a wall wearing a pretty thong with one hand draped across your chest to squeeze your tits together and cover them over the middle. Grinning to yourself, you sent it to him.

You knew he’d received the image when a choked off cough sounded from his side of the room. Glancing over, you could see Ghost thump him over the back as Soap sheepishly held up a bottle of water.

“Sorry. Down the wrong pipe.” He wheezed; cheeks tinged pink as he met your eyes before returning to his phone.

> What the fuck

> Warn a man before ye send shite like that

> Is that really you?

> Fuck me I ken ye were bonnie but darlin

> Ye got me bricked rn

A warm rush of arousal surged through you, knowing that one little photo had sent him into a spiral. Smirking, and refusing to meet his heavy gaze, you focused on Price for the remainder of the meeting, ignoring the fact your phone was buzzing incessantly.

When Price finally dismissed the team, you didn’t even have time to push yourself up before the loud scrape of Soap’s chair filled the room and he marched over to you, nudging you out the door. His grip was like a vice on your arm as he steers you until he found an empty hallway. He pushed your back against the wall.

“We gonna talk about what that was?” He holds up his phone and waves it in your face. Shrugging, you leaned back against the wall, arms folding across your chest.

“You sent it first. Was just showing you what a good picture looks like.”

“My pictures look nice.” His tone was indignant as he frowned, glancing down the hall to check no one was coming towards you.

“Sure, because you’re decently attractive. That’s the only reason they’re passable.”

“Decently attractive…” He huffs, looking haughty as he crossed his arms.

“Why did you find my photo hot?”

“I never said that.” Clearing your throat dramatically, you pulled out your phone and began to read in a mockery of his accent.

“What the fuck? Warn a man before you send shite like that. Is that really you—”

“Haud yer wheesht! Fine, it was fucking hot.”

“Why was it hot, MacTavish?” He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced at the floor as he rocked back on his heels.

“It was… sexy, without showing too much. Teasing and… fucking shite- fine! It made me want tae come over there and rip yer bloody kit off.” The corners of your lip twitched upwards, and you couldn’t fight the smirk that spread across your face.

“You wanna see another?”

The way his face lit up was almost comedic, before he frowned again.

“Yer fucking having me on, aren’t ye?” He scowled.

Pushing yourself off the wall, you slid your hands into your pockets, tilting your head as you stared at him coaxingly. He met your gaze, eyes squinting as he seemingly tried to read your expression before he sighed, head dipping for a moment before lifting back up again.

“I’d like fer ye tae send me another.” He asked begrudgingly, fingers toying with his phone. “Please.”

Biting your lip to prevent him from seeing your sly grin, you picked out another. This one was taken from over your shoulder, the curve of your ass framed by a pretty black thong. His phone buzzed and his attention immediately snapped to it before he groaned.

“Steamin’ hell, yer… shite, I cannae do this here.” He growls, eyes flashing dark with lust as they looked up at you. Blinking at him innocently only made his lip curl. “What’re ye playing at, darlin’?”

“Just showing you how to really rile someone up.”

“I’ll show ye riled up in a mo—”

“Would you like me to teach you, John?” You queried, seeing the interest immediately perk in his eyes. He paused in mid stride towards you, lips pursing.

“Ye wanna teach me how tae take photos like that? I appreciate the effort, hen, but I’m not as bonnie as ye are. Ain’t got the tits fer that.”

“You got tits aplenty, MacTavish. Look at them.” Reaching out, you squeeze his pecs with a teasing grin, and he bats your hand away playfully. “You’re hot, Johnny. Lemme just help you… accentuate it.”

“Yer boostin mah ego there, lass.” He titters, eyes sharp as they trail down your body. “Ye sure yer willing?”

“You sure you’re happy to miss out on your booty call for an impromptu photo shoot with your teammate?” You snark back, stepped forward to meet him halfway, boots tapping against his. Soap chuckled, finger tracing along your jaw as he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.

“After ye sent me these?” He scoffs, waving his phone in front of your face. “I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye.” The look on his face was smug as he leaned back. Your face matched his as you gripped the front of his shirt.

“Come with me then.”

As you shut your door behind you, you turned around to see Soap already tugging off his uniform.

“Why are you taking your clothes off already?” You growled at him; eyes sharp as you shook your head. Soap’s brows furrowed, halfway between shrugging his shirt off.

“Are we not takin’ nudes?” He asked bluntly, head tilting to the side. Letting out a breathy laugh, you locked your door and walked over to him, ruffling his mohawk causing him to squawk in protest.

“Nudes aren’t just about being naked, idiot.”

“Aye, they are. Is that not the whole point?” Rolling your eyes, you push him into a chair and wheel him in front of a mirror and standing behind him.

“When you take photos of yourself at the gym— don’t lie, I know you do.” You frowned down at him as he opened his mouth, about to process. “When you take photos of yourself at the gym, what do you look for?”

His face pinched in thought. “Making myself look good, I guess.” He shrugged. “Gettin’ my good angles.”

“Taking nudes is much the same. You’re a fit guy. Work your body into the shots too.”

“Aye, but I’m still fully clothed.” He points out, raising his brow as he looks at you in the mirror. Clicking your tongue, you leaned down, hands sliding down his firm chest as you plucked open his buttons, one by one.

“It’s the uniform, MacTavish. Use it.” You purred into his ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it. He groaned softly; eyes fluttering closed as his breathing deepened. “See?” You pushed open his shirt revealing his toned chest. His eyes were fixed on you in the mirror, watching your every move with focused intent.

“Now lean back slightly, spread your legs, roll your sleeves up, and tuck your thumb into your belt.” He did as you said, and you helped adjust the final touches, ruffling his hair once more before stepping out of sight. “Now take a few. You can change positions a little. Feel yourself, you know? Take what looks good.”

You let him sit there for a few minutes, watching him closely as you leaned against the wall out of shot, feeling your body react to him. He was a natural taking pictures, adjusting his positioning slightly as he got into the feel of it. Finally, when he was satisfied, he turned his head to look at you, seeking your approval. Smiling, you stepped towards him, cupping his head as he blinked up at you expectantly. Resting your chin on his shoulder, he flicked through the photos for you.

“Look at you. Don’t you look hot?”

“Ye really think so?” His voice was soft as he turned his head slightly towards you. His long lashes cast slightly shadows over his cheeks, and you found yourself drawn into him. Blinking and breaking the trance, you didn’t answer, instead choosing to chuckle and raise your brow, standing back up.

“Shirt off, next. Belt too but leave your pants on.” Soap nodded under your instruction, face flushing pink as he quickly rid himself of the items you’d specified, leaving him in his combat boots and pants. “Same kinda thing. Move around, pose. Flex a little. Especially your forearms and hands.”

Again, you stepped back, this time admiring him more closely as he got more comfortable, turning around and playing with different angles. Your eyes drifted along the lines of back, tracing down his body as you felt the tension building in the room.

Stepping forward, you came in behind him, hands sliding down his sides until you got to the buttons of his pants, undoing them with practiced ease. His cock pulsed with interest, and you could feel him thickening as you slid your hand down his front, rewarded with a soft groan.

“Fuckin’ hell, hen. Ye’ve nae idea what ye do tae me.”

“I have somewhat of a feeling.” You grinned over his shoulder, tucking his boxer briefs down so the base of his cock was evident in the mirror. “Take a picture of that.” You whispered, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before stepping back once more.

Soap cursed, head turning to look at you with longing as you stepped back, but you pointed to the mirror, and he diligently turned. His hand slid down the toned planes of his body, thumb hooking in the waistband of his underwear and tugging them down to expose the thick base of his cock, hair trimmed, but on the longer side.��

Instead of looking at the camera, or at himself in the mirror, his eyes were on you, heady and lustful. The corners of your lips twitched upwards, and you began to slowly remove your own clothing until you were in nothing but your bra and underwear. Swearing under his breath, Soap roamed every inch of your exposed body, palm pressing into his groin as his hips jutted forwards.

“Ye gonna fuckin’ ruin me, doll.”

“Take off your pants and get on the bed, MacTavish.”

“Aye, ma’am.” He said, eagerly moving to kick off his boots and pants before rolling onto the bed. Eagerly following behind him, you shuffled up the bed on your knees, straddling his thighs as your hands slid up to cup his semi-hard erection.

“See how we’re not even naked and you’re already swelling in your boxers?” He groaned, head tipping back against the headboard as your hand pressed against him, working him up to full hardness.

“It’s all you, hen. Fuck yer makin’ me ache.” He whined, eyebrows tilting upwards as he pleaded for more. Shaking your head, you took your hands off him to unclasp your bra and throw it aside.

“One more. Want you to hold your cock and press it up against the fabric, so we can see the outline of the head.”

He swore again but did as you asked. Gripping his cock tightly, he slapped it a few times against his leg as he stared at your breasts, swallowing thickly before turning his attention to the camera and taking a few shots. But it didn’t last long.

Releasing his cock and throwing his phone aside, Soap wrapped his arms around you, flipping you over on the bed. As you lay sprawled, slightly surprised by the sudden change in position, Soap loomed above you, smirk evident on his face.

“Yer in fer it now, dollie. Been teasin’ me this whole time. Getting tae touch me like that, tell me how to hold my own damn cock. Nah… I’m gonna touch you now.” He purred, eyes predatory as his hands squeezed your tits, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan softly, arching your back.

Soap titters, sliding further down your body to push your legs apart and settle himself between them. Humming to himself, he ran a finger down your covered centre, circling your clit lightly before prodding at your soaked entrance.

“All this just from seein’ me take a few pics?” His eyes were gleaming in excitement as he hooked a finger underneath the material of your thong and pulled it aside. “Jesus, hen… ye look like a god damn dream.”

Perching yourself up onto your elbows, you looked down at him between your legs, watching his expression as he tugged your underwear to the side and lowered his mouth to blow air over the wet, sensitive skin.

“What’s this? Cannae stand a wee bit of teasing, bonnie lass?” You whined at his cocky tone, lifting your hips up slightly and he cooed, sliding your underwear down your legs and tossing it onto his pants. “I’m keeping that, just so you know.”

Before you even had the chance to protest, his hands ran up the backs of your legs, spreading them out and holding them down as he sucked kissed along your inner thighs, nipping slightly as he went.

“John…” Rolling your hips, you gripped the sheets in frustration. “Stop being an ass and put your mouth on me.”

“God, yer pure gaggin’ fer it, ain’t ye?” His grin was feral as he dragged the lip of his tongue ever so lightly against the hood of your clit. “Admit this was what ye wanted as soon as ye got that snap of my cock.”

In the dizzy haze of arousal, his words sparked something, and you stared down at him, eyes narrowed.

“Was this your plan all along? Was there ever another girl you were meant to send that photo to?” He shrugged, lapping at your cunt and making your toes curl with pleasure as he chuckled against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

“That’s my secret tae ken, dollie. ‘Sides, ye really gonna complain when it’s yer bed I’m in and yer legs I’m between?” His smug expression made you want to bite back some sarcastic reply, but you just couldn’t find the words. “Didnae think so.”

His mouth lowered onto your throbbing cunt, one hand moving to spread you open so his tongue could press in, tasting you. He groaned deeply, fingers digging into your leg as the thumb on his other hand flicked over your clit. His hips ground into the bed as he did so, making him moan again.

Pulling back, you could see the sticky wetness of your arousal already covering his bottom lip and chin. As if he could tell where you were looking, he stuck out his tongue and dragged it along his lower lip, grinning as he watched you.

“Cannae believe ye been holdin’ out on me. Could sit here between these legs and eat this cunt out for hours. Tastes so fucking good.” He dove back in, wrapping his lips and sucking on your clit as his fingers pressed into you.

You gasped at the stretch, back arching off the bed as his fingers began to move, scissoring and spreading your cunt wider for him. He continued to suck your clit, tongue dragging over it as you cried out, gripping the sheets tightly as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

“Fuck— Johnny please. God, you’re so fucking good.” You moaned breathlessly, panting as sweat beaded on your forehead. Soap let out a rumbling laugh as he kept his face pressed into your cunt, desperately trying to bring you over the edge.

Lifting your head to look at him, you saw his hips driving desperately into the bed where the sheets had bundled up underneath his crotch. You managed to find your voice.

“I taste that good huh? You gonna come just from eating me out?” He nodded eagerly, fingers curling and pumping into you with renewed intensity, heat curling viciously in your gut.

“So fucking good. So fucking good fer me.” He mumbled; eyes boring into yours. “Please… I’m so fucking close. Need you tae come fer me, aye?”

You nodded, panting, watching him as he focused his attention solely on you, humming softly as you felt your cunt throb with intense need, the feeling in your belly growing.

“Johnny— oh fuck, please. Please!” Your legs twitched as your hips hitched upward and, with a cry of his name, you let yourself go, pussy spasming around his fingers as he groaned into your cunt, happily lapping at your juices as you climaxed.

As you calmed down, body sagging into the bed, you looked down at Soap who was resting his head against your thigh, eyes glazed as he grinned up at you smugly.

“Enjoy yerself there?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too.” You bit back, wiping your brow as you grinned lazily down at him. “I can see the mess in your underwear.”

Soap simply shrugged, rolling onto his back to remove his underwear, wiping the remnants of his cum from his dick before sliding himself up the bed to settle next to you.

“I said ye tasted fucking divine.”

“Shut up, Johnny.” You pushed him slightly and he laughed, wrapping his arm around you.

“We should keep this going.” He murmurs softly, glancing up at you. Blinking in surprise, you look over at him.

“Thought you didn’t do relationships, MacTavish.” You warned, mostly for your own sake. He simply shrugged.

“Wouldnae mind having ye ‘round to take some more photos with.” He said simply, nestling into the crook of your neck. “And I wouldnae mind eating that cunt every mornin’.”

You rolled your eyes, but threaded your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly as he cuddled in close.

“So those pictures we took are going to waste then, since you’re keeping me around?” You tease, poking his nose. He sniffs.

“Gonna send them tae you instead. Make ye think about naught but my steamin’ hot body every meeting.”

You smacked him over the head as you laughed, shaking your head at him.

“Price’ll kill you if he finds out.”

“Worth it.” He mumbles once more, squeezing you closer as he pressed a kiss to the base of your neck.

#crash writes #soapitup #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish smut #john mactavish smut #soap smut #call of duty smut #cod smut #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod

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ceilidho · 5 months

Text

prompt: Ghost only takes you half-seriously when you say you want to see other people. He has just the man in mind. tags: dubcon; threesome; anal (2.5k)

He doesn’t so much as twitch when you stumble over your words in an effort to get it out.

“I don’t think this is working,” you say, hands clenched into trembling fists at your sides. “I think we should start seeing other people.”

The only bit of it that Ghost really pays attention to is the fact that you decided to make this little announcement while he’s in the middle of taking apart and cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. His little spitfire girl. Not a lick of fear in you, just a fistful of attitude and snark. The attitude’s ensconced now in your trepidation, a bit smothered under it, nervousness a clear trill in your voice, making it warble, but it shows itself in the downward slant of your brows. Delightful girl.

“That right?” he grunts, jamming the lubricated cotton mop into the bore of the gun. You flinch at the sudden movement, nervous eyes trained on his hands. Ghost makes a note to apologize with his mouth later on.

“Yes,” you croak, then cough to clear your throat. “I’ve, um…I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I think it’ll be better for—for both of us. It’s just…it’s not working out.”

The cigarette dangling from between his lips stinks up the room. Poor girl, he thinks pityingly when you scrunch up your nose and eye it resentfully. Always trying to get him to quit. It’s just shit luck for you that he’s never been good at quitting things, at letting anything go. Everything he’s ever lived through clings to his skin like smoke.

He ashes it out in the little turquoise ceramic pot on the table, a trinket he’d once picked up in Tala'a Kebira years ago while in Morocco on some other business. You look marginally less irked with the cig put out, but that just means that more of his attention can focus squarely on you, which leaves you a bit wide-eyed under his stare.

“For a while, hm?” Ghost asks. It comes out teasingly, if only to him. The lilt in his voice is a tricky one to catch.

You nod; the note must have slipped through your hands like smoke. “There’s a girl I found online that’s studying abroad right now. Offered to sublet me her room while I look for a place. I thought maybe, um…maybe tomorrow I’d go.”

“Don’t worry about all of that,” he says, already dismissing the conversation from his mind. “Won’t be back for another week anyway—no reason for you to run off if I’m not even around.”

“Oh.” You shift from side to side, thinking it over. “I guess. How long will you be gone?”

“A week. Two weeks tops.” Plenty of time for him to sort out this mess. Figure out what exactly caused you to get all jumpy and eager to try out other people.

He smiles internally. Little bird probably just can’t stand how often he’s away, poor thing. It’d be enough to make any girl upset—the constant leaves of absence, gone months without being able to send word, showing up bruised and bloody on the doorstep only to have you fall to pieces trying to put him back together.

There are options though. He’s not opposed to adding someone new either—in fact, he has just the man in mind.

Ghost has been holding Johnny back because he always thought you preferred to just be with one man (and Christ, the whining he’d had to deal with from Johnny, always begging to see you or begging Ghost for even just your panties, anything at all because he was so desperate and Ghost wouldn’t let him have you), but now?

Now there’s no reason to hold Johnny by the collar when he comes over for dinner. Now there’s no reason to kick Johnny from under the table when he leans just a bit too close to you when you’re sitting down to eat, eyes locked on the glimpse of your chest peeking out of your shirt and damn near drooling on it. Now there’s no reason to listen to Johnny jack himself off to the point of tears while trying to get some shut eye on a mission, the only crumpled up photo that Ghost had ever allowed him to take cupped close to his face.

He really pitied the poor mutt before, no pretty girl at home, his only crush being his superior’s girl. But Ghost is magnanimous—he’s a generous man. If you want to see other people, he has the perfect puppy for you to play with.

When you smile, still a bit unsure, he has to smother a grin. “Okay. I’ll stay ‘till then and look.”

The look Johnny gives him when he brings it up is equal parts disbelief and fevered need. “Say that again, Lt?”

“You’re coming over after we wrap this shit up. Bird’s been asking about a third.”

He chokes, scrambling to his feet. The temporary base is damp, always on the frigid side of things so Johnny’s still in uniform for the most part, the fabric rustling in his haste to get up off his bed. It’s not a place either of them are eager to spend more time in than absolutely necessary. The lack of space means that the two of them are made to bunk together as always, sharing a room with two cots and a small en suite, the tub still wet from Ghost’s shower.

“Christ, yer serious? No joke, sir?”

Johnny pushes his head back into Ghost’s hand when Ghost reels him by the hair, dropping a firm close-mouthed kiss onto the centre of his forehead through the fabric of the mask. “She was clear about it. Why? Gettin’ cold feet on me now?”

“No, sir,” Johnny protests, shaking his head as much as he can in Ghost’s grip, eyes shimmering a bit. “I can bring over a bottle o’ wine if ye like. Somethin’ fancy to set the mood.”

Their closeness is not unusual; Johnny’s always been a tactile man, favouring touch over words. One of their small similarities; their shared modes of existing in the world. There’s a line in the sand where you’re concerned that Ghost has been clear on, but he’s used to always having a hand somewhere on Soap, keeping him close. Now, he gets to keep him even closer.

His bird really has the best ideas.

Ghost snorts, knocks their heads together. “Just bring yourself, pup.”

He ignores the way Johnny’s breath hitches, the way he hurries into the bathroom and slams the door behind him the second Ghost lets go. The frantic eager sounds from behind the door when the water runs, only muffling the loudest of his groans. He probably had his dick choked in his fist the second the door shut, a thick nut swirling down the drain within the first five minutes.

They ship out the next morning, exhausted from the week’s work. No amount of sleep out in the field is ever good enough, especially not in cots barely built to accommodate men of their size. Especially not Ghost. Johnny dozes off on his shoulder in the plane, sinking into a deep sleep to compensate for the hours spent tossing and turning the night before. Ghost uses the flight to get a headstart on his paperwork, enough so that he’s not held up on base when they land back home.

He doesn’t give you a heads up that he’s home earlier than planned; no need to give you enough time to pack a bag and schlep it over to that place you’d found. It’s better for everyone if you’re caught a bit off guard, just a little frazzled. Ghost’s not entirely unsympathetic—he knows you’ll overthink things if he gives you any time to yourself.

It’s endearing the way you gape up at him, eyes flitting between him and Johnny, when he finally makes it home. For the few times that Johnny’s been over, it’s not an everyday thing; his visits are always planned and strictly timed, Ghost monitoring him to make sure he doesn’t overstep his bounds. Seeing him with Ghost in your foyer must be strange, must put you on edge.

“Simon, you didn’t tell me you were—” you start and then pause, swallowing. You look over his shoulder at Johnny, smile stiff, uncomfortable. “Hi Johnny.”

You’re always a good girl, not wanting to argue in front of company.

“Heel,” Ghost says, steel in his voice when Johnny almost lurches from his side. The other man glances over at him with wild eyes, almost on the brink of disobeying, but he holds in the end and stays put. Ghost’s eyes soften when he looks back at you. “Have a nice week, pet?”

“Yes—sorry, I’m glad you’re home safe,” you say, flustered, taking his back from him to drop in the usual place in the hall. “I, um—” again, you eye Johnny nervously, unsure of how much you can say in front of him, “—I found a place…for…you know.”

“‘Course,” Ghost agrees, shucking his boots at the door and giving Johnny a shake by his coat until he does the same. “Missed you too, pet. C’mere.”

He muffles your protests with his mouth when he stalks forward and pulls you in for a wet kiss, rolling the mask up and off at the same time. You’re a bit stiff in his arms until he slips you some tongue and the resistance leaks out of you, helpless the second he gets his hands on you. Your eyes are still a bit misty when he pulls away, fingers clutched in the collar of his shirt like a reflex. Second nature to cling to him. His chest puffs up at the gesture.

“Thought about what you said the other week, bird, and you’re right.”

You blink, coherence coming back to you, shaking your head to divest yourself of the momentary confusion. “I am?”

“‘Course. Smartest girl in the world, isn’t she, Johnny?” Ghost asks over his shoulder, slipping a hand into your hair at the same time to hold you in place. It makes you frown, his actions not mirroring his words.

“Aye, sir,” Johnny hums, nodding eagerly. Boots off, he stumbles forward, crowding around you from the other side, not realizing that they’ve backed you into a wall until it presses against you, trapping you in place. “Bonnie ‘n sharp as a whip. Always thought so, sir.”

“That’s right,” he agrees, tightening his fingers in your hair until you squeal, brows furrowing in that way they do when you’re right on the precipice of pain and relief. “Only a smart, brave girl would ask for what she needs. You’re just lonely when I’m away, isn’t that right, pet?”

“I’m—I’m what?” you splutter, hands planted on Ghost’s chest, trying to push him away to no avail. He hardly notices it.

“Go on, Johnny,” Ghost murmurs. “Since she asked so nicely. Give her a kiss.”

That’s all his mutt needs to hear.

You huff and puff with the strain it takes to take Ghost’s cock after a week and a half away.

You’re always tighter when he comes back, an effort to work you up to taking him again; he lets Johnny get you prepped this time, slobbering all over your pussy in his eagerness, plugging you with three fingers before you’re even close to ready. He gets off on the way you howl, rutting his cock into the sheets of your bed while he keeps you pinned by a thick arm over your stomach.

Ghost has to scruff him after that. He takes over, running a soothing tongue over where it hurts until you cry big, fat tears and come a couple times. He makes sure you’re taken care of before it gets tough. You’re mindless by the time he moves off you to retrieve the lube from the bedside drawer, only coming back to yourself when he turns you over onto your belly and spreads the cheeks of your ass. It unwinds something in his chest to hear you yelp when he pushes a finger into your ass, like coming home.

This is why he does what he does: to get this when the job is done.

It’s not often he gets to do this, usually too big for you to take comfortably in your ass. Johnny’s not that much smaller, in fairness, so he works you up to two and then three fingers before lying down on the bed and pulling you over him. Your legs tremble when you straddle him, fingers digging into his chest when he lowers you onto his cock for the first time in a week.

“There we go,” he says, grunting when you pull his chest hair a little. “That’s a good girl. We just about done crying now?”

Ghost smiles when you shake your head stubbornly, eyes still filled with tears. “This isn’t what I meant, Simon.”

“You can cuss me out when Johnny’s done, alright? That make you happy?”

He almost chuckles when Johnny clambers back onto the bed in his haste to get his hands back on you, his pants still hanging off an ankle until he gives it a shake once his palms fit over your waist.

“Slowly, pup,” Ghost cautions, reaching around to spread a cheek. He coos when you flinch, whispering for you to relax.

Johnny’s eyes roll back into his head when he pushes in, hips stuttering forward until Ghost snarls and he stops, letting out a deep, shuddering breath to calm himself down. Even for Ghost, it’s intense; you tighten around him when Johnny pushes in, only letting up when he cups your cheek and draws you down for a kiss, loosening you up with his tongue.

“Sir, I can—fuck, fuck, fuck,” Johnny whines, back curving when he drops his head. “She’s so fuckin’ tight, I can—swear I can feel you, sir.”

He’s not wrong. Ghost swears he can feel it himself, Johnny’s cock in his pretty bird’s ass while his is stuffed deep in your cunt. You pant through the stretch, words half-croaked out, unintelligible. It’s better that way. He loves listening to you sing, but you’ve been in a right mood these past couple of weeks. Just needed a good lay to sort you out.

“Simon,” Johnny begs, thrusting forward until he bottoms out in you, making your pulse skyrocket. “I cannae breathe.”

“Yes, you can,” Ghost says dismissively, wiping at the drool slipping out of the corner of your mouth. “Give ‘er a sec and then you can move.”

“So, so, so hot. ‘M gonna come—”

He reaches behind you to wrap a hand around Johnny’s throat, giving it a squeeze. Johnny’s eyes bulge. “You don’t get to come until she does, pup. That’s all the time, got it?”

He doesn’t pay any mind to how Johnny nods and mumbles his little yes, sirs after that—he’s a grown man, maybe not as grown as Ghost, but man enough to compose himself until you stop trembling and sweating so hard.

It’d been a mite difficult to wrangle you into bed. He understands. He’d let you talk yourself red in the face about this not being what you meant by ‘seeing other people’, but Ghost hears the said and the unsaid. You wouldn’t be still in his house a whole week later if you really wanted to leave.

“Alright, pet,” he grins, running his thumb over your bottom lip until it drops open and you let him run it over your teeth. “Hang on now.”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #soap mactavish #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost/reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghoap x reader

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satoruhour · 7 months

Note

please do car sex w gojo where after a date reader couldn’t hold back!!

a/n: short one !!!!!sorry sorry just like that week ive got two essays due and im a little panicky! pls bear w/ me as uploads will be slow ty :")

warnings: fem!reader, playful banter (it’s becoming a thing w/ my gojo smuts idk why), handjob, oral (m! receiving), like one (1) spank, fingering, little prep, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

you’re not sure about why gojo looked so damn good today. you could attribute it to the fact that you haven’t seen your boyfriend in at least two weeks or the fact that he’s abandoned his jujutsu uniform for a formal suit. but you’re equally as dressed to the nines as him, visiting a quiet but delicious restaurant on the top floor of a mall.

“any reason why you’re so quiet, sweets?” satoru always could pick up on your silences and your mannerisms; being together all through high-school, at both his and your lowest, through taking care of megumi and tsumiki does that to him. the squeeze of our thigh is a question enough, done more for comforting you, though, and not for the dirty, dirty reasons you’re thinking about.

satoru bathes in the red light of the traffic crossing, and you think he simply looks stunning in the fitted suit and tie, blindfold exchanged for his signature glasses and his blue eyes that are so blue they shine over the stop light.

you bite your lip, turning in your seat slightly and grabbing his hand, heart jumping when it wraps around your smaller one — and he smiles at your reaction.

“nothing.” you hide a grin badly, getting one in return when you reach over his slacks, hand creeping up his thigh and getting closer and closer to his centre. he already knows you need not comfort, but rather something else, letting you give his hardening bulge one last squeeze before red turns green and your pout is the cutest thing ever. “damn.”

gojo steps on the gas and you’re forced to sit properly in the passenger seat, hearing a boisterous laugh from beside you, but he’s not exactly a law-abiding citizen either. he tugs on your hand, placing it on his hard-on and grinds into your hand, pins and needles forming in his hands from how hard he was grabbing onto the steering wheel.

“can’t keep my baby waiting, can i?” it’s said breathlessly, a smirk on his face that switches between its smug look and a face of pleasure. soft whines leave satoru’s mouth as you palm it, eyes fixating on the way the strongest sorcerer melts at your touch.

at the second red light, your hands are already tugging at his zipper, prompting pleas from your boyfriend. he sighs when you‘re fishing out his cock, pretty pink with an angry tip that’s leaking pre-cum, and when you start stroking — you can thank god that there’s no cars waiting at the traffic light with you.

gojo has a hand under your chin affectionately, eyes boring into yours that are starting to falter under your hand. it strokes his cock, squeezing and releasing, making sure all of his length gets your attention. the pleasured flutter of his eyelashes are the prettiest, a whimper escaping his lips that sends a spark right down to your cunt.

“oh f-fuck— your hands are so w-warm . .” there’s a crack in his voice and he breaks from your eye contact to lean back against the seats. your hands pump him slowly, enjoying the sensual moment until a honk from behind you surprises both of you and gojo screams, hitting his head on the roof of his car.

“ow— fuck!” gojo tsks, ignoring your giggles before he gets back to driving, “the other lanes are unoccupied, idiot!”

gojo, in classic gojo fashion, points his thumb and says can you believe that guy? like a suburban dad, shaking his head and sighing and forgetting his whole dick is out until you’re bending over the stick shift, engulfing his tip in your mouth.

your boyfriend chuckles, a twinkle in his eye as he looks down at you, “impatient little girl, aren’t you?” you only hum, preening at the hand that strokes your hair, aiding you but never really forcing you down as he drives at a leisurely pace. gojo grunts out when you run a tongue up the underside of his cock, other hand playing with his balls. his fingers tense momentarily on your head, before they move down your back, cupping your ass and you moan around his shaft.

“i’m surprised you didn’t drag me into the bathroom to fuck.” he speaks through laboured pants, earning a soft glare from you as you continue to bob your head.

“there was only— mmhff— one stall . .”

“wouldn’t have stopped me.”

you bite down gently on his dick as a warning and he yelps and laughs, surrendering with repeated okay’s. you feel his thigh move below you, speeding up to his penthouse when you’re holding tight onto his legs, steering wheel bumping into your head ever so often.

“o—oh . . baby, baby,” gojo groans out, pulling the car to a harsh stop and yet you’re not stopping, slobbering over his cock while the twist of your back starts to ache. but the sounds your boyfriend makes is just too hot, sucking in your cheeks more and going for the hilt. you bury your face in his pubes, gagging a little at his sheer length.

“shit, shit, shiiit . .” the gurgling sounds resonate throughout the car, interrupted briefly when the hand on your ass slips past the slit of your dress, going right to where your panties should be.

gojo breathlessly laughs, “no panties?” a spank to your ass and you’re wide-mouthed over his slick cock, pussy clenching around nothing.

“dirty whore.”

you click your tongue with a wink, moaning when his fingers tease the tight ring of your entrance and you’re forgetting all about your job when his fingers enter from behind.

“probably don’t even need prep — so fucking wet.”

you hum in response, sitting back up and climbing right into the comfort of his back seat. you’re too far gone to care when you start stripping, pulling the single garment of clothing off your body and gojo gapes at your lack of a bra too.

“was i just too amazed with the food?” he aaks himself more than you, but the endearing question brings a giggle out of you, making you violently gesture for him to just get in the back seat, already.

he follows you, as he would anywhere, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss, “clearly you wanted me to initiate . . i will be a better boyfriend, prommy.”

you pull away to make a face, “satoru, please never say prommy in your life ever again.”

“whhyyyyy?” now he’s just whining to annoy you, pulling him right into your face and spreading your legs. there’s a mixture of playfulness and desperation in your tone, hips humping the air at the lack of contact.

“please just fuck me, satoru.”

gojo gives you a sweet kiss, positioning himself right at your dripping cunt. he’s focused on pushing past your tightness, throbbing tip just nudging into your walls and satoru sighs—

“since my sweet girl’s asked so nicely . . gladly,” the height of the seats are perfect for gojo, bottoming out in you and moaning so loud the next neighbour over could probably hear you, “you’re so— tight, mmfuck—”

gojo finds a pace, head tilted to right where your bodies connect just to watch himself slip in and out of you. you’re entranced, too, just with the beauty of your boyfriend’s face as his brows pull together and his mouth hangs open.

“sa— satoru . . g-god,” you’re dragging him closer into you with your legs, locking behind his back as his hips continue to drive into your tight pussy. you’re so pliant, juices coating his cock so easily that he has no problem thrusting into you. “o—oh, pleaseplease—”

gojo props a leg up, ramming his hips deeper into you and the periodic twitches of his dick makes your pussy flutter, hips stuttering when you call out his name in such a sweet tone it’s got him wondering whether you were an angel instead.

“angel — fuck me — you feel so damn good . .”

“think— it’s the other way ’round,” a chuckle weasels its way out of satoru’s lips at your cheeky comment, bumping foreheads with yours gently as he holds his stare with yours.

“silly g-girl . .” your hands wrap around his neck at that, coaxing him into another deep kiss, moaning into his mouth and the way his body jerks into yours is just so cute. his tie is discarded, your dress is on the floor of the car and his hair is everywhere and you like gojo the best like this: dishevelled and messy, in love with you like always and he would happily be like this all the time if he could.

the sheer pistoning of his hips is so strong that the car is probably shaking, skin against skin and your dripping pussy that wraps around him so good that he can’t hold on any longer, muttering into your lips. his hand reaches down to rub at your clit, sending your body into little shockwaves into his hold.

“princess, i’m gonna—” he groans into your mouth, betrayed by his own body before his hips stammer and he’s cumming deep in you, spilling his seed deep into your waiting cunt and his eyes roll back. he has no chance of recovering when you’re reaching your high soon after, clenching so hard around him that his hips continue to buck into you. your brain is only full of satoru, satoru, satoru, whining into his skin as he fills you up.

“s’full . .” you mumble, pulling away drunkenly, meeting his slightly dull ones from his fatigue. “need more.”

your body moves on autopilot, prompting your lover to lie on his back seat without any protests and he welcomes you like clockwork atop him. and when you sink down, you swear you see another shade of blue pop up in his eyes at the sight. there’s a small sigh from gojo when you reach his pelvis, body illuminated by the street lamps and the moonlight. satoru is always in awe of whatever you do—

“that’s my pretty, pretty girl.”

#asks #satorusugurubae #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #jjk gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #jjk thirsts #jjk drabbles #jujutsu kaisen

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 26 days

Text

Omega Ours - Part 1 | Alpha!Cassian x Alpha!Nesta x Omega!Reader| Short Series 2.7k

After fighting your way out of every potential mating offered to you, your village sends you off with the High Lord. Rhysand, tired of dealing with the Alphas living in the House of Wind, gifts you to Cassian and Nesta in the hopes that it'll settle all three of you down.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language & themes. Omegaverse dynamics including Alpha & Omega and the sexist assumptions/implications that go along with it, heat/heat cycles, forced proximity, d/s themes, only one bed (and only one chaise), lots of tropey tropes! No use of YN but liberal use of pet names.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Cassian & Nesta - from Pinterest

Created for @polyacotarweek - prompt 5 faveourite tropes (Omegaverse, only one bed, forced proximity, sort of insta-love)

Part 2 will be posted on the 13 (Free day!) follow @illyrianlibrary for updates ❤️

Part 2 | Masterlist | Poly Fics | Cassian

The only way to describe the couple stood before you was - handsome.

The High Lord and Lady who’d brought you here were beautiful, elegant. But this couple could only be described as handsome, strong, Alpha.

You knew them, of course. General Cassian of the Nightcourt and his mate, Lady Nesta. Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death, they’d called them in the camps that circled the Illyrian villages like pilot fish on a shark.

“I’ve brought you a present,” Rhysand drawled, pointing at you. “Well, it’s a favour and a present. The last unmated omega of the season. She's from the Western Isles, I thought it might help to tamp down your behaviour if you two had a project.” He grinned and you turned to look at Nesta and Cassian again.

It was true, you’d rejected every mate offered to you, bitten some of them, in your desperation to get away, and that’s how you’d lost your freedom. Fighting the boys from the village was one thing, fighting an Illyrian was another. They’d hauled you into the camp in front of the High Lord on his last visit and demanded compensation.

Rhysand, ever flush with jewels and gold, had paid them and then had a set of cuffs and leathers made for you. Nightcourt black velvet, red stitching and silver buckles. But restraints were still restraints, no matter how soft they felt against your wrists and ankles. He’d had new clothes made for you as well, traditional sheer panels of matching blood red that hung in gossamer curtains down your legs, pooling around you as you were forced to your knees in front of the Lady and General.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Nesta studied her nails, her air bored but her eyes kept flickering towards you.

“Come now, Nesta, we both know you and Cassian caused quite the stir the last time you were both in heat.”

You were right then, you could smell it on them anyway, that raw power and strength that designated them as Alpha.

“Still - you want us to take care of your problems?” Nesta huffed.

“Of course not, she’s a gift, for you and Cass, if you happen to tame her enough that she stops mauling my men then that’s a bonus.”

You looked between them, it was undeniable how attractive they were. Better than the mud caked idiots from the village at least, but you still railed against the hand that dragged you back to your feet.

Cassian kept his hand under your elbow, pinching your cheeks with his other hand. “Come on, Nes. She’s cute, isn’t she?” He angled your face up towards his mate.

Nesta shrugged one shoulder and you snarled, snapping at Cassian’s fingers.

“Feisty,” he gave a deep chuckle, “I like that, that’s how Nes and I got together.” He hauled you over his shoulder, your legs and arms dangling, the panels of your dress slipping dangerously.

“Put me down!” You beat your fists on his back.

“Should have thought of that before you tried to bite me,” he teased, jostling you.

You scowled at Nesta, who followed, laughing, through the halls of the palace and then tried using the only knowledge you had about the Illyrians. You reached out and grabbed his wing, squeezing as tightly as you could.

He growled back, the sound travelling up through his chest into yours, vibrating your very core.

“You want to play rough? Good.”

Cassian shouldered a heavy door open and suddenly the sweeping corridor was gone and a dark, warm room wrapped itself around you.

The walls were an oxblood red with thick velvet curtains that lay heavily in front of the eternally open windows. The soft jasmine breeze that circulated through the house was mixed with the cleaner scent of mountain air and the crackling of a fire, rich and inviting.

The general set you down, his gaze travelling slowly down your figure. He clenched his jaw and then instantly turned to his mate, cupping her cheeks in his large hands and kissing her roughly. She growled in response, leaning into his embrace and allowing him to lift her against his body. You watched as he carried her across the room to an open archway, almost hidden behind a large tapestry, and then they vanished again.

Tentatively, as much as you could with the thin chain connecting your ankles, you crept across the room to the curtain, now brushed back and curling heavily on the polished floor.

Nesta and Cassian were tangled on the bed, the heady scent of their arousal lay thick in the air, the bedsheets already rumpled as if they’d been interrupted before, the room in disarray.

On both bedside tables there were stacks of books of various genres, a pitcher of water on one and dagger on the other.

“Either come in or go,” Nesta groused from the bed, hair messy, one of Cassian’s hands still tangled in the long golden-brown strands.

“Play nice, Nes.” The general laughed, biting at Nesta’s earlobe. “You can join us or you can sleep,” he said over his shoulder.

Sure enough there was a small chaise made up with blankets at the end of the bed. You shuffled over, and fell heavily onto the soft cushions listening to the sound of their love making. Each grunt and moan made you press your thighs together harder. Each stifled sigh had your hands twitching, itching for something more. You may have rejected every attempt at a mating, but you weren’t completely without feeling, without desire and needs and lust.

You lifted your hands to cover your ears, the chain between them digging into the bridge of your nose, and fell into a confused sleep.

You awoke to the sound of moving bodies and cloth dragging on the floor.

“She’s asleep, let her rest, Cas.”

“What if she’s cold?” The footsteps came closer and you tensed on instinct. The steps stopped, but a gentle weight floated down on you, a large cotton blanket, awash with their scent, settled.

“I’m going to wash,” Nesta’s voice faded as she walked away but there was no other movement.

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was loud in your ear, closer than you’d expected and you jumped again, almost sliding from the chaise. Cassian’s arm caught you, tight around your waist and his bareskin was so warm against your own. You cracked one eye open and looked around the room as best you could with his wings blocking out the faint candlelight.

His arm was speckled with tiny scars that twinkled against his tan skin, the hair that decorated his forearm was as dark as the long tendrils that brushed over his shoulders and this close, his chin almost resting on your own arm, he smelt heavenly. That mixture of his own scent and Nesta’s even stronger in his proximity and, no doubt, enhanced by their earlier activities.

“If you want, you can borrow some clothes.” His voice was a sleepy rumble and you resisted the urge to let your omega instincts take over and push yourself back into his chest, seek out that warmth, that comfort - but you didn’t respond.

The sound of running water in the other room stopped, replaced with the gentle pad of Nesta’s footsteps and then she was in front of you. Surrounded by them again you had to fight back every urge to give in to her wicked mouth, her lips plump and kiss bitten.

“We’ve left you some things on the chair, choose what you will. If you want to join us on the bed, you can.” Nesta moved away taking Cassian with her and you assumed from the gentle rustle of sheets they were back in bed.

The chair that sat opposite their grand fireplace was strewn with clothes, silky looking negligees and billowing linen shirts, some cotton leggings and a pair of woollen socks.

Waiting a moment, hoping they weren’t looking, you rose from the chaise and rushed for the chair. The translucent dress the High Lord had had you wear left your skin cold and bare, exposed and vulnerable. Cassian’s shirt was a welcome relief, covering your body from view, although the two slits in the back for his wings did feel slightly odd. The socks were warm and fluffy, long enough to reach almost to your knees. Redressed, you turned to return to your chaise and tugged the blanket up to your chin.

You didn’t really want to spend the entire night there, but you also refused to give in to the ridiculousness of the situation. No one chose your mate, or mates, for you and you’d rather sleep on the tiny chaise that allow anyone to take that choice from you.

Thankfully, Nesta and Cassian had turned away, the Illyrian’s large wings spread over the bed,. Shielding his mate from view? Or stopping her from following you around the room with her silver stare? You weren’t sure, but you were grateful as you closed your eyes.

It was only as you were falling asleep that you realised you were snuggled into the shirt, inhaling Cassian’s scent, and by then it was too late, you were tumbling into your dreams.

The next morning Cassian and Nesta were gone, but someone had left a tray of food, a pot of tea and a stack of books on the table. The doors to the balcony were open and the jasmine wind blew the curtains back so invitingly you couldn’t resist.

You were halfway through one of the books they’d left, something by Sellyn Drake that had far more smut in it than you were anticipating. A slice of buttered toast was stuck halfway to your mouth as you stared transfixed at the page, when the door opened. Cassian held the door for Nesta, taking a long sword from her hand and placing it on the table that was perpetually strewn with weapons. His own sword and daggers followed and the two of them began to strip out of their leathers.

There had been a rumour that Nesta trained alongside the Lord of Bloodshed and the Shadowsinger, trained with other women as well, but you hadn’t thought to believe it until now.

Her leathers were tight against skin, a sheen of sweat making her sparkle, her long hair was tied up in what was now a messy ponytail and, most surprising of all, she was smiling broadly at Cassian. He returned the smile, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a kiss, his hands wandering down to the buckles and clasps that held her fighting leathers together.

Cassian looked equally as powerful, his own armour dark against his tanned skin, his tattoos flowing under the leather before appearing again at his collar bone and trailing over his shoulders towards the vast wings at his back. You set the book down slowly, the lust filled scene already had you feeling hot under Cassian’s shirt even before they appeared.

The movement caught his eye and he turned, taking Nesta with him and pinning her against his chest. They way they looked at you, like the most delicious prey, had you pressing your legs together. You wouldn’t give in to this, especially not when it was exactly what that smug prick of a High Lord wanted.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he cooed, “Would you like to join us?”

It was Nesta who held her hand out, crooking her finger to coax you forward. “We’re going to bathe, the tub is large enough for three, come.” It was more a demand than a question and, though you longed to see how far down Cassian’s tattoos went and how Nesta would look covered in bubbles, you resisted again.

With a shake of your head you went back to your book, trying to ignore the sound of them together through the wall.

You fell into a rhythm, the three of you. Nesta and Cassian continued as they were, training, working in the library and attending meetings, and inviting you to join them whenever they were together.

Your nights on the chaise were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but you refused to be worn down by their requests, preferring to stay silent and read alone either on the balcony or by the fire. No amount of reading could drown out the sound of their love making, though. If you could call it that, judging by the bruises both of them sported proudly and the way their headboard banged against the stone wall.

Despite your protests their allure was difficult to ignore, their playful banter, the care and attention they showed each other, even the way they whispered in bed, dissecting the day's events and, on a few occasions, discussing you.

This only happened when you were pretending to sleep heavily, breathing slow and steady as you wished for dreams to take you.

“Nes, did you see the way my shirt fit her today, rolling up her thighs-” Cassian had made a deep, guttural noise, only to be shushed by Nesta.

“Yes, Cas, stop, she’s right over there.” Nesta hissed in return.

“I know, God, she’s so fucking close, don’t you think she smells good?”

“You know I do.” The sheets rustled and you heard Nesta whimper as a wave of arousal flooded you. They could smell you, you knew it and you couldn’t stop it.

Sleeping in their room, bathed in their scent every day, surrounded by their things, it was like a huge nest and the longer you lingered here the more you wanted to give in and climb into their bed, to be between them and allow them to care for you.

You knew something had changed when you woke up drenched in sweat. As usual, Nesta and Cassian had already left the room, your breakfast arranged in its spot, clothes laid out for you. They’d started adding some new things, items that smelt like neither of them, clean linen and lavender, but you were still drawn to their items the most. Perhaps, it was the way they smiled when they saw you cuddling into one of Cassian’s shirts or standing on the balcony in one of Nesta’s dresses. But you refused to confront that feeling.

Despite your long, cold, bath you still felt hot and uncomfortable. It was mid way through stripping off your linen trousers that Nesta reappeared. She moved with a preternatural grace that you were sure existed well before her sister’s ascent to High Lady. A smoothness to each turn of her hand, or extension of her arm, she made walking seem like a dance and you were transfixed.

Nesta stopped as soon as she saw you, her nostrils flared, almost imperceptibly.

“Are you okay?” she asked in that cool, silvery voice.

“Yes,” your voice felt hoarse. You barely spoke and had gone days without saying anything to either of them, merely existing in their presence. But now, locked by her gaze, there was no escaping.

“You seem -” she weighed her words carefully, “unwell.”

“I can assure you, I’m fine.” You took a half step towards the balcony doors, hoping the breeze would cool your skin.

Nesta hummed, surveying you from head to toe. “I’d feel better if you got into bed.”

You knew this was as persuasive as Nesta could be, a simple request made in the lowest of tones, an argument not worth having.

“I-”

“The bed.” She crossed the room swiftly and turned you towards the large, velvet draped bed that took up a large portion of the room. Since your first entrance into Nesta and Cassian’s suite, you’d done your best to avoid even looking at it. Now there was no escape.

Your hands were shaking, a tingling heat rising from your spine and coiling in your stomach. On this occasion, just once, you’d listen to her. “Fine.” With great difficulty, you pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor. You were so tired. When had you become so tired?

Nesta’s deft fingers grasped your chin, holding you still so she could look at your pupils, large and frightened. “Get in bed and go to sleep,” she insisted, and you obeyed.

Part 2

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folkwhoredoll · 1 month

Text

library affections - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: there are two things that you love in this world; rafe and books

word count: 0.9k

warnings/tags: none, just fluff with sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! i don't think i can ever thank you all enough for your support in all of my works :< tbh i did not expect to gain so much interaction because this blog is still relatively new but here you all are and i appreciate each and every one of you <3 this fic is another fluff boyfriend!rafe fic (is it obvious that i like fluff so much lmao) and i've written this a while ago. i hope you'll like this one! if you have a request or prompt in mind, feel free to send me a message. happy reading!

masterlist

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Being a regular visitor at the Camerons' estate has familiarized you with every corner of the house. Now, you have memorized every room and decoration, immediately spotting whatever is newly added. The Camerons didn't mind your presence, with your family being a close friend of theirs. Thus, it was no surprise that you ended up dating the one and only son of Ward Cameron.

With his father and stepmother often occupied and his sisters frequently out with friends, you and Rafe usually find yourselves with the house to yourselves, save for the occasional presence of the household staff. Yet, you've never minded.

Today follows a similar pattern. Ward left for a morning meeting, Wheezie went to school, and Sarah departed at noon to join John B's group. Surprisingly, even Rafe isn't home, having agreed to a golf outing with Topper and Kelce. Although he initially invited you to join, you declined, preferring to avoid the "boy talk" and the scorching sun. Thus, you find yourself waiting for Rafe in the living room, idly scrolling through your phone.

It's been around two in the afternoon when you got bored, sighing and deciding to stand up to walk around the house. Your feet already know where you're going when you face the familiar entrance to the Camerons' Library.

This room is your most loved spot in the whole estate, apart from Rafe's room. The vast shelves of bright book covers from different times always amaze you. If you could, you'd live in this room. Rafe has found you exploring this library countless times; even his sisters know it's the first place to check when you're not around the house.

Quickly scanning the shelves for a book, you settled upon a fantasy fiction novel, clutching the book as you made your way to a couch by the window. The first few chapters had you hooked immediately, eyes rapidly passing through every word as you moved chapter by chapter. The book was so good that it blanked your other senses, making you jump when you suddenly heard Rafe's voice.

"I knew you'd be here." He smirked, still in his golfing outfit, as he stood over you.

"Hi, Rafe." You smiled up at him, putting the book down on your lap. "How's golfing?"

Rafe plopped beside you, stretching his legs and putting an arm around your shoulder. "It was good. I got bored with Top's whining about his break-up with Sarah, so I left."

You chuckled when you saw his eyes roll, a dramatic sigh escaping his lips. "They were together for a long time. You can't blame him."

"I guess." He shrugged before flashing you a flirty grin. "But I also want to spend time with my girl."

You snorted. "Yeah, okay."

"What? I do! I feel guilty about leaving you here alone." He defended.

"I don't mind, Rafe." You spoke.

"Hm. I bet you don't. But still."

You raised your brows, silently urging him to explain what he meant.

"I just mean that you were too distracted by that book, baby. I could've been an intruder, but you wouldn't even know. What is that about anyway?"

Your eyes lit up at his question; you've always loved speaking about the books you've read. And Rafe loved hearing you talk, even if he's mostly confused.

"I just started reading it, so I don't really know what it's about yet, but there's this girl, and she has electricity powers!" You started excitedly.

Rafe listened intently. He couldn't help but feel affection for you, marveling at how your eyes sparkled with passion for the story. Despite the chaotic world outside, at this moment, it was just the two of you, surrounded by the tranquility of the library.

As you continued to talk, Rafe's mind wandered, reflecting on how much you meant to him. You were the one person who could effortlessly penetrate his tough exterior, revealing the softer, more vulnerable side of him that he often kept hidden from the world. He felt at ease with you, free to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule.

Lost in his thoughts, Rafe reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You paused mid-sentence, startled by the sudden touch, before leaning into his hand, relishing the warmth of his touch.

"Hey, what's wrong?" you asked, concern lacing your voice as you noticed the distant look in his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "Nothing, I'm just... happy. Happy to be here with you."

A soft blush colored your cheeks as you met his gaze, feeling the warmth spread through your chest. At that moment, surrounded by the scent of old books and the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the window, you couldn't imagine being anywhere else.

Leaning in, Rafe pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

"I love you too," you replied, your heart swelling with emotion as you returned his affectionate gaze.

With a contented sigh, Rafe settled back against the couch, pulling you closer until you were nestled against his side. Together, you sat in comfortable silence, basking in the simple pleasure of each other's company.

At that moment, surrounded by the familiar comforts of the library, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.

#drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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toppersbitch · 1 year

Note

sebastian sallowxF!reader with the prompt ❛ keep it. it looks better on you. ❜

Keep It, It's Yours // Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Characters are not aged up here, there is nothing 18+

Summary: Sebastian just loves the way green looks on you!

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: none this is just fluff

Prompt: “Keep it. it looks better on you.”

-----------------------------

You lay on the lawn just near the lake on the Hogwarts grounds, watching the clouds hurry by. Sebastian was dead asleep, his body resting just beside yours. It was a warm day, the last day before summer break began. You would go back home and so would Seb, far away from each other. It was heartbreaking; the two of you had been close since you started in year 5, and now it was the end of year 6. Your teachers despised the two of you, you got in double the trouble. No real feelings had ever been spoken between the two of you, little touches of the hand and knee, words were spoken during late nights and in hidden tunnels.

“Seb,” you said lightly, pushing your shoulder up against his. He opened his eyes, turning his head to make eye contact, “I think we should jump in the lake,”

“But it is forbidden,” he was mocking one of your teachers, he rolled over onto his side, and you did the same.

“Who told you that?” no teacher had ever said that and unless it was told to him before year 5, you’d never heard it.

“I don’t know,” he rubbed his eyes with his hand. You smiled, Sebastian always assumed everything at the school was off-limits, that's what it seemed like to him.

You sat up, untying your boots and setting them to the side, evening was approaching. The sun has almost gone behind the outline of the castle. Seb sat up groggily, following your steps. You had already packed your robes into your trunk, your clothes being strictly casual since then. Why not jump in your clothes? It was shower day anyways. Seb stood up, waiting for you, his hand outstretched. His foot tapped impatiently, mocking you as you placed your hair up.

Grabbing his hand you hoisted yourself up, holding tight and running towards the lake. You waded in quickly, pulling Seb behind you. The mud squished between your toes, moss, and lake vines snaking up your body.

“I sure hope the squid doesn’t get us,” Seb pinched at your legs, and you squealed, kicking at his hands. You splashed each other, the water feeling refreshing over your sunbaked skin. Laughing at little jokes and such. He lifted you throwing you deeper into the lake, swimming with ease out to you. You held onto each other, the sadness of this week's end events.

“Seb,” you pulled his eyes from the ducks her was watching, “ I hate summer.”

“Why on earth would you hate summer?’ his eyes carried nothing but confusion.

“I hate not being with you,” you felt your heart grow heavy, “it's so boring.”

“Floo powder is a thing you know,” he had a sarcastic tone, his house fireplace wasn’t connected to the network and neither was yours.

“Seb you know what I mean,” you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah I know,” you both trailed off, looking around. Night had fallen fast and it had grown surprisingly cold. Your body shivered, teeth chattering involuntarily. However, you stayed, anytime with Sebastian was worth it's total in gold. The bell rang, meaning it was time for dinner, no matter if you two actually made it, Sebastian had an in with the house elves and they’d do just about anything he asked.

“Let’s go back,” you said, your voice quivering from the cold. You swam back, every motion sending chills. The outside air wasn’t much warmer, the air consuming your body. You shivered, tying your shoes and waiting.

“Here take my sweater,” Sebastian offered his knit sweater had been wearing all day. You pulled it over your head, the smell of Seb filling your lungs.

“Why don’t you wear green more?” Sebastian was staring at you, his robes hanging over his shoulder like a used bath towel.

You were a Slytherin of course, but you opted for the least amount of green in all your clothing, black fabrics being the majority in your closet. You shrugged, in response beginning the walk back to the castle.

You both skipped dinner, opting to take showers and sneak out again later for a snack, possibly in the restricted basement of the library, this was a favorite meeting spot for the two of you. You dressed, pulling over Sebastionas sweater again. It was possibly the coziest thing you’d ever put on, the Slytherin rooms were known for being cold, the walls being all stones.

“I got us lamb chops and eclairs,” Sebastian sat roughly on the floor, a bag of food falling into your lap. You emptied out the contents, chowing down. The conversation flowed effortlessly, jokes and laughs, even snorts echoed off the cement walls. It was late, even the ghosts were quiet and you no longer had to occasionally hide from them.

“I don’t wanna go home,” you said, your head resting on Sebastian’s shoulder, his on top of yours. You twirled your wand in your hand, watching little sparks fly with just your thoughts.

“Either do I, but we have to,” his words were tired and slurred, he was half asleep and you knew it. You stood up, pushing your mess back into the bag, and helping Sebastian stand, you both stood facing each other, tears welling in your eyes. There was no promise you would be able to say goodbye tomorrow. You wiped your eyes on the sleeves, the green fabric soaking the up.

“Oh here's your sweater,” you pulled it over your head, wadding it up and stuffing it into Sebastian’s hands, he grabbed it tightly, letting his hands graze yours. He pulled you into a tight hug, beginning to sniffle himself.

The next morning was hard, shoving the rest of your belonging into your trunk, and finding places for the trinkets you collected this year. Moving onto your desk you saw a specific green sweater folded neatly, a note pinned to it. You hurried over grabbing the note eagerly.

It read: “Keep it. It looks better on you anyways” signed Seb

His sloppy handwriting is barely legible. How on earth did he sneak this in here before leaving? He was such a mysterious being.

You folded the note, slipping it into your journal, holding the sweater to your chest. Seb had already gone home, and this was all you had of him for the summer, other than the letters of course.

-----------------------------

God this is so cute!!!!!! I hope this everyone enjoys <3333

Find my other stuff HERE

#sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow imagine #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian #sebastian sallow #sallow #sebastian sallow fluff #sebastian sallow hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fluff #hogwarts legacy imagine #harry potter hogwarts legacy #hogwarts #hogwarts legacy #harry potter franchise #fuck jk rowling #jk rowling

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myouicieloz · 1 month

Text

Under the Moonlight

Ning Yizhuo x Reader

Synopsis: you and ning have been best friends ever since you could remember. but she’s been distant lately, and you can’t help but wonder where does she go to every single night.

Warnings: cnc (? maybe?). smut. nsfw.

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: I’m trying to get into darker themes for 2024. writing different prompts, challenging myself. I apologize if I it’s off putting. pls say something if it is!

Ning Yizhuo was a good girl.

She never skipped classes, never talked back or raised her voice at elders, never missed a day of bible school, and never forgot to flicker the lights in her room whenever you were going to sleep.

Yet, she earned for more.

She was ambitious. Has always been, ever since she was a little girl. She’s had this feeling in her chest for ages, a clear warning that she was born in the wrong place: she didn’t belong in this small town, surrounded by rich fuckers that did nothing but label people and gossip all day. She was more than a close-knit community that lived off balls and charity events to make up for the fact that everyone who lived there were scrumptious, vile people. Those people did not represent herself at all.

Someday, she’d be truly free of the chains that tied her to this place.

For now, she was content enough with adjusting the helmet in her head, hopping on her bike to seek things that would make her forget about the life she lived, even if just for one night.

—

“And where is Mrs. Yizhuo once again, Y/n?” Your teacher’s voice echoed harshly from behind you, as you positioned your hands on the piano to start your lesson for the day.

“She’s sick, Mrs. Lee.” You straighten your posture, hoping to get more credibility. “She took many meds this morning. I think she’ll be sleeping all day to recover. I’m sorry.”

The teacher gives you a knowing look, but says nothing once you begin to practice the same songs over and over, until your fingers hurt from the repetitive movements.

You send Ningning several messages as soon as the woman looks away. She’s your best friend, of course you’d cover for her even without her asking for it. Although you don’t think she cares, anyway.

She’s been acting so different lately. Like somebody else; a different girl, different person. It was as if you didn’t know her at all.

You’ve been next-door neighbors ever since you could remember, always there for each other. That, along with the fact that your parents are part of a close-knit friend group that has been friends ever since high-school, made it easy for her to be your other half, your soulmate. Her house was right next to yours, and you’ve developed a habit of checking if her room had the lights on whenever you were anxious. Ning was your best friend, and you did everything together: from hanging out at each other’s houses to attending choir and piano lessons every single day.

That was until she changed. Suddenly, she was distant: disappearing out of nowhere, not answering any of your calls and texts all day and coming back dirty, sweaty and breathless — her hair stinking with smoke. The only thing you could rely on was the flickering of her bedroom lights, every single day when the clock hit your bedtime. You were rigid with your routine, and Ning knew that. She’s never missed it, and it comforted your heart, somehow. To know that deep inside, she was still your Ningning.

You often had to make up lies wherever you went, making up endless excuses for her absences, but at some point, it got unsustainable— she stopped showing up, without saying anything to anyone. Ning wore all black, with tight skirts and black stockings, and often had a bored look on her face, silently challenging anyone to come at her and say something.

No one ever did, obviously. People merely stared as she passed by, disdain etched on their faces.

You knew she hated living in a small city, although, you didn’t mind living so yourself. There was something comforting in knowing everyone, and oddly enough, you felt safe to feel there was always a pair of eyes watching out for you — not watching you, no. Well, people could do that, too: be excessively mean and controlling at times, but you know how to set your boundaries well. You played your part, being a former straight A student who was now attending the local university, with plans to join your step-father at the architecture company he owned, once you were done with your studies. You had been the perfect little debutant, and could always be found next to your friends or your parents at the charity events and lavish galas hosted by the community. You couldn’t say it wasn’t suffocating at times, but it wasn’t like you completely hated it.

Clearly, you were unable to say the same for Ningning. What had stirred this change inside of her? Your chest burned every time you thought about it, eager to know. You yearned to be a part of her life again, yet a small part of your brain was too afraid to ask her about it, knowing she’d answer you wholeheartedly.

You hated the change. You missed your best friend too much. You missed the old her.

The Ning who would flick her lights to let you know she was there, whenever it was time for you to go to sleep. The Ning who let you cry on her shoulder for hours at your grandfather’s funeral. The Ning who would attend the school games to see you cheer, who stood by your side when your dad left, and who washed all of your fears away when your mother remarried.

That was your soulmate; the Ningning who was always there for you. Not the reckless girl with a blank face who didn’t seem to care about a single thing.

Although, you were beginning to think you did not know her at all.

—

“Can I come?” You ask, trying to suppress a shiver as the wind blows cold against your body. It had certainly not been the best idea to wear a white, short dress with even tinier undershorts and boots in autumn, but you couldn’t think about anything else to put on.

With only a leather jacket to warm off your body, your eyeliner, smudged, dark makeup and heavy jewelry mirrored the girl standing in front of you, and you can’t help but smile.

You’d fit in well.

“Excuse me?” Ningning exclaims, frowning in disbelief.

“I want to come with you.” You repeat yourself, holding your own hands nervously. “You’ve changed, Ning. I’m not stupid… I just want to understand. Would you show it to me, please?”

You hate the way she’s looking at you, like she’s still deciding whether to allow yourself into her new world. You also hate the way your voice cracks, always vulnerable when it comes to her.

After minutes of staring, Ning decides to give you a chance. Shrugging, she leaves you alone on the sidewalk as she returns to her garage, shoving a helmet into your chest.

“Fine. But say anything funny, and I’ll leave you there alone. Got it?” You nod, trying not to feel hurt by her indifference towards you.

After a few clumsy attempts, you manage to hop in on her fancy bicycle, hands trapped tightly on her thin waist. You often spied on Ning going out with a dark motorbike you were sure her parents hadn’t bought her. However, as the two of you go at full speed through the night, you feel like you understand her a little better: it’s so freeing, to just ride on the freeway as the wind messes up your hair. You laugh, hugging her tighter, the only thought crippling your mind being over how beautiful the moon looked in the cloudless night, alone in all its glory.

Before you register, Ningning parks her bike carefully. If not for the fact that the place was absolutely crowded, you wouldn’t be able to tell this was the place she’s been sneaking out too frequently. It’s simple: just many cars parked in a circle, occupying the large freeway as people stand against them like ants. You guess someone must’ve blocked the way so no unwanted cars would drive by, but that was a lucky guess.

Nevertheless, you’re struck by a sudden heat wave — being surrounded by a fairly large, energetic crowd was enough for you to feel your face getting warmer, much to your liking. The atmosphere was lively, electricity hanging in the air almost palpably. It was as if everyone were anticipating, waiting for something, and you were nearly sure Ning was involved in that.

“There.” She motions to the right area of the crowd, waving to someone unknown to you. “Let’s go.”

You try to act cool as she grabs your hand to guide you through the crowd, failing terribly. The truth is, it’s been months since she’s talked to you, touched you properly. Perhaps you missed Ningning much more than you could admit, judging by the serotonin boost you’d gotten by a mere touch from her.

Ning stops in front of a black Dodge, where three girls stand with bored looks. They’re all wearing black and red, in some sort of subtle color coordination. You notice Ning’s outfit follows the theme, too, her crimson crop top standing out from her black pants and leather jacket.

“You’re late, Ningning.” Giselle says, not bothering to look at you as she chews on her gum, hands brushing her hair ever so flawlessly. She’s beautiful — they all are, and there’s something in the way they pose; as if they’re royalty around the place.

“Hello to you too, Gigi.” Ning answers her, not affected by her dismissal in the slightest. Your best friend gestures to the other girls, then, giving your hand a squeeze. Even though it wasn’t needed anymore, she was still holding on to you. “Those are Karina and Winter.” They bow slightly, acknowledging your presence. “Girls, this is Y/n”.

The trio share a knowing look at the mention of your name. As if a spell had been cast upon them, the girls are all over you, swirling, giggling and speaking all at once.

“It was about time we met you, Y/n”. Winter giggles, resting her head on Karina’s shoulder.

“Right?” Giselle shakes her head, suddenly interested in the conversation, with her condescending tone. “Took Ningning long enough to bring you to the Underworld.”

The Underworld. The name alone is enough for you to shiver, shrinking under your oversized jacket. Like a reflex, you turn to your best friend, brows furrowed and mind seeking for answers. “The Underworld?”

As soon as she opens her mouth to explain, she’s dragged away by Karina, who sighs. “Tell her all about it later, Ningning. Giselle was right, you really are late, and we have to enroll you in today’s race right now.”

Ning stares at Winter with a serious look, waiting until the bob-haired girl nods to leave. “Take care of her while I’m gone.” Shooting you an apologetic look, Ning follows Karina to the heart of the crowd, not at all uncomfortable as you lose her amidst the sea of unknown faces.

You’ve been warned about such places before, ones where people go to lose themselves and do things they shouldn’t. Even though it’s dark, you’re able to see what every group is occupying themselves with, always good to notice details in a crowd. Some drinking, smoking, others doing drugs that were too explicit for such an open space. Many people acted borderline pornographic, too, engaged in heavy make out sessions and touching places that had you looking away, too embarrassed to lurk.

“I’ll go breathe some air.” You tell Winter, who’s now sitting on the hood of the car, furiously typing on a computer as big as her head. She must’ve grabbed it from the passenger’s seat while you were busy looking around, horrified.

You expect her to protest, specially since Ning had been clear in her words, but the small girl doesn’t even look at you for more than three seconds before answering, still heavily focused on the screen that lights her face. “Okay.”

Before she’s even finished, you turn around and dodge people as best as you can, barging towards the woods located on the edge of the road without hesitation. You walk until the lively event is just a faint noise, crippling your ears like a bug on a hot, sticky day.

Now, being able to breathe the cold air of the night properly and free from the demons of the night, you try to understand your best friend. Ning has always been a free spirit, independent and strong-willed. But, while her wild nature did stir up some trouble in your community, she’s always been welcomed and loved. That’s how a family worked, right? You might fight, but you also sort things out, eventually.

The sound of dry leafs being stepped on startles you, but you’re soon at ease once you see Ningning’s silhouette coming out of the darkness. She sits by your side, both looking at the moon instead of facing each other.

She must be afraid too, you reckon. Of you judging her choices, turning your back on her like her family did, the moment she changed her attitude.

Well, you did judge, but you’d never leave her alone. You love her too much to do so, even if you couldn’t quite understand her ulterior motives.

Ning looks beautiful under the moonlight, her long hair shiny as she plays with her own fingers, hesitant to speak up. Her hair is one of the last things she’s kept true to herself after this sudden change. You let your hands run through, reminiscing the times when, not matter how impatient, she’d let you comb and style it.

Such memories must’ve been going through her mind, too, in a reassurance of the bond you shared. Gathering courage, she turned her face to you, smiling faintly.

“Illegal fights and street races. That’s what we do here in the underworld, that’s what it’s about.” Ning keeps you from interrupting her, already aware of what you’re going to ask. “I’ve seen people do some darker shit, yeah, like drugs and stuff, but the girls and I stay far away from that. It’s not something you can deal with without falling into a hole, you know. And I’m not trying to dig myself a grave or anything.”

You breathe in deeply, acknowledging everything she’s said. It’s like you’re walking on thin ice: one phrase worded wrongly, and she’d shut herself off from you for good.

So you choose the safest route. “And… the girls? You, hm, you all race?”

Ning relaxes instantly at your words. Her shoulders fall off, glad you didn’t start screaming at her or trying to brainwash her guts. She expected a far worse reaction.

Shaking her head, her tone is a little more excited as she answers. “I’m the only racer of the group. Giselle fixes the mechanics, Winter does the stats, and Karina handles the bets and closes off the deals. They are my girls, Y/n. My family.”

You stand up, unconsciously walking around in little circles as you tried to think of the right words to not scare off your best friend. The truth is, this whole Underworld thing was not only scary — it terrified you to know Ning had found herself in such a place. She needed to think through all of this situation, and realize she was losing herself badly, walking into a path set for destruction. She needed help, and she so desperately needed to come to her true senses. You had to save Ning from herself, and you’d do just that.

“We’ll take you back.” The words come out without you really thinking through, not at all as careful as you wish to be. You turn around completely to face Ning, only to find her already staring, her big eyes as cloudy as ever. “We know you’re sorry, Ning, it’s ok. Just… let us go back, then it will all be just like before.”

She lifts her brows, and she takes a few steps towards you, not stopping until you’re trapped, back hitting the trunk of a tree.

“I’m not sorry for what I’ve done, Y/n.” She’s angry, and you hate seeing her mad. Specially at you. Ning never got mad at you. “I’m sorry that we were born in this shitty ass town with so many rich fuckers, and I’m sorry that stupid community has brainwashed you so much they can control you as they please. I apologize for being distant because I know it hurts you, but besides that, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

She’s breathless from speaking with such fervor, both of her hands placed on each of your sides so you have no way of escaping.

And even though you gulp, you force your body to not have any fear. It’s Ningning: your best friend, your soulmate. She’d never hurt you.

She’d never.

“Ning.” You look down, failing to hide the tremor in your voice. “Ning, let me go.”

Something in her eyes shift the moment she noticed the fear in your voice. Her pupils are wide blown, and her smile is just wrong, staring at you from head to toe. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the wind messing with your very short dress, and how hot you feel, despite the cool weather.

Somehow, you get the feeling she’s thinking the same thing, too. Time stops as her eyes fall to your lips, and she’s on top of you in a blink. Kissing, tugging, licking… Ning’s desperation is something you can taste, and it’s written all over. This kiss is not like the sweet, chaste experiences you’ve had before. Ning kisses you like a woman starved, taking until there’s no air left, and your lungs are burning, claiming for relief.

Her kiss is venomous, so sinful you fear what you’d do if you experience it again.

“W-what the fuck, Ning! Why’d you do that?” You manage to say, crossing your arms over your chest to try to get some distance between you. “This wrong, Ning. This isn’t y—“

“Did they send you here?” She ignores your words completely, hands assaulting your body as you move against her. “Is that it? Are they that fucking desperate, really?”

Perhaps you’re weak, maybe she’s been putting some work in the gym, but the truth is she doesn’t move an inch, no matter how much try to pull her away. If anything, it only brings her closer to you, that wicked smirk still on her face.

“What? They… no! Of course not. I came because I want to understand you.” Her accusations hurt, even though you know she’s not entirely wrong. The truth is, Ning’s too smart for her own good.

Surprisingly, her fingers are delicate as they brush one of your shoulders, playing with your dress sleeve before letting it slide midway, enough for it to expose yourself to the dark night. You shiver, not only due to the winds that cause your nipples to harden, but also because of the girl who stares at you like a woman starved. She’s salivating, and you watch her every breath until she lowers her head and latches her mouth onto one of your boobs, her teeth teasingly picking on your nipples.

It’s as if you’ve been electrocuted. Your back arches, and you try even harder to let go of the hand that’s keeping yours clasped together so tightly it hurts, but you can’t set yourself free. Did her touches always feel like that? So wrong, yet so… good, you look forward to more?

“Stop, p-please. Ning, my b-boyfriend…” It’s all you’re able to mutter, choosing to keep your mouth shut. You’re too afraid of the sounds that might come out of your lips if you continue speaking.

You’ve never felt like this before. This tingling sensation, erupting to all your body — specially to your core. The warmth that eloped your body like you were too close to the sun. It felt good, Ning’s touches are so good you _itch_ with need.

It’s no surprise you’ve touched yourself before. You were no saint, either. However, it has never felt anything close to that. You would never be able to mimic Ning’s hands, cupping your breasts, pinching your waist, forcefully opening your legs to keep her knee seated between them… all while still trapping you, the burning sensation in your hands serving as a lively reminder of the situation you were currently in.

“Your boyfriend, yes. That fucking idiot.” Ning’s hands go straight to the hem of your shorts, forcing them down. “He’s never touched you like that, right Y/nnie? Surely, you’d tell me. I’m your best friend, after all.”

Tears start to cloud your vision as her hands pull down your shorts, fingers going all the way under your dress to find the bare skin of your abdomen. She scratches it slightly, even though you find yourself still struggling vigorously against her touches.

“Ning, you don’t know what you’re doing. I’m sorry, please s-stop…” Ning huffs, annoyed by your attempts to get her off you.

“No, Y/n. I know exactly what I’m doing.” She laughs as her teeth scratch your shoulder, and then she bites. It’s so unexpected you scream, ashamed to admit that her harsh touches are the reason your insides are embarrassingly wet. “I bet you’ve touched yourself thinking of me, too. God, Y/n. You act like you’re this good little example to others, but I know you better than anyone. You’re such a dirty, hungry whore.”

Ning’s salivating, her wet mouth leaving a trail of saliva on your skin as you stop moving against her chest. Instead, you let your head rest on the corner of her neck, biting your mouth so hard you feel the metallic taste of blood in your tongue. Ning notices it, too — her eyes have never stopped observing you attentively, not from the moment she’s met you for the first time. Grabbing your neck possessively, she pulls you in for another hungry, aggressive kiss, her tongue forcing its way over your mouth until your taste was all hers to delight herself with, too.

Without an alibi to hide your pleasure, you moan against her lips, chest moving rapidly with the adrenaline. You feel her smile, too.

This doesn't seem right, in any way. Your best friend, forcing you to surrender against her wishes and talking to you like you were nothing… it is all wrong, deeply wrong.

But why is she making you feel so alive? Why is the burning sensation that expands over every inch of your skin so addicting?

If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so good?

“Does he touch you like this?” Ning asks with a sultry tone, as her fingers toy with your folds. The anticipation drives you insane, only intensifying your arousal. You gasp at the sensation of her fingers in your cunt, hovering and so close to where you need her. Your silence irritates her, clearly. “Answer me, whore.”

Her hands, God — her hands leave your cunt so quickly and reach out for your throat, squeezing on your pulse point with such precision you nearly cum on the spot. You feel lightheaded, unable to think about anything but how alive Ning makes you feel. In fact, it’s her touches that ground you again, reminding you of what is happening.

She kisses your jaw, her tone dripping with fake-sweetness as she murmurs. “Tell me what I already know, Y/n. Say it.”

With that, you’re aware of your current situation: Ning’s getting inside your head, distracting you with pleasure until you’re dumbed down enough to surrender to her wishes.

When did she become so evil?

“Stop— touching me.” You say, turning your head away from her. Still, you can’t help but obey, even though your voice is barely audible as you add. “You know the answer, already.”

Ning’s hand slides through your body, taking her time to grope, scratch and pinch as she pleases until she’s cupping your cunt again, her motion too sweet for the harsh way she’s been acting towards you. Two of her fingers go to your slit, taking all the air from your longs as she shoves them in and out slowly, savoring the sensation both for herself and for you. And you’re _wet_ — so much her fingers slide easily, despite your lack of experience. It’s as though time had stopped: the animals have stopped making noises, the wind has stopped humming and all the people at the street have quieted. All you can hear is Ning’s breathing, just as erratic as you, and the lewd sounds coming out from your cunt.

It feels so good, you wonder how you've lived all this time without Ningning touching you like that. Like you were a secret gemstone she was more than ready to unravel.

“If you want me to stop touching you, then why are you so fucking wet?” She asks, cocky as you whimper under her. Your legs feel like jelly, and suddenly you’re so glad for the tree you’re relying on, and Ning’s leg between your thighs, forcing them open. “No, Y/n. You know damn well what you want. You’re just too stubborn to admit it.” Her following words are what break you. As your thumb meets your clit, she adds, “You’re as rotten as me, filthy girl. I just choose not to run from myself anymore.”

You want to deny it. There’s nothing more you want than to pull Ning back and scream at her face, talking about how insufferable she’s become and how much of an asshole she was. But your brain has long been turned into mush, focused on only one thing: gathering the crippling sensation that was forming in your lower abdomen and let it explode, turning it into a mind-blowing wave of pleasure. It’s all you’ve ever wanted: to cum. Nothing else really matters.

You don’t even recognize yourself, clinging onto Ning as if your life depended on it. Her skilled fingers don’t stop their motion on your slit as her thumb applies more pressure to your clit, circling it harshly, so fast it makes your eyes roll to the back of your skull with pleasure. It feels unlike anything you’ve ever felt before: every inch of your body boils, and you’ve never wanted so bad to just explode.

Faint screams fill the background, with Ning’s name being called repeatedly, surely from the girls looking for her. However, you don’t pay them any mind. The only sounds coming out of your mouth are loud, sinful moans — the most beautiful melody to Ning’s ears.

“N-ning…” You whine, carving your nails onto your best friend’s skin. Sweat gathers in your forehead as you feel your orgasm close, but you’re too stubborn to say anything to her.

Ning knows you well, though. Your muscles tense, and you cum as she keeps her strokes hard and fast, just what you need to explode into waves of pleasure. It hits so good you scream, legs shaking as she holds you as if you weight nothing, keeping you from falling onto the dust. White dots dance around your vision, fireworks exploding inside you as the orgasm washes through your body, in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

It was borderline addicting.

“Ningning! There you are, fucker. We’ve been looking for ages.” Karina’s body appears from the darkness, her impeccable frame easy to distinguish from anything else. You’re so fucked out it takes you a few seconds to register her presence; by then, Ning has already covered you, adjusting your dress back on with precise movements. “Don’t be irresponsible just because of some pussy, dude! You’re up in five, come on.”

You don’t miss the way Karina’s eyes stare at your body, not an ounce of shame in her pretty face. However, you don’t feel ashamed to have her attention on you. If anything, you can feel your face blushing, your body slowly feeling hot again.

Lust is a dangerous thing, indeed.

Ning doesn’t miss Karina’s cue either, judging by the way she scoffs. Dismissing her with an annoyed tone, Ning mutters, “I said I was coming.” She gestures to the trees and the wild bushes, then. “You can lead the way.”

Karina laughs, not missing her last opportunity to address you, as she turns around and waves. “Bye, Y/n. I hope you’re around more often.”

You giggle, too, amazed by how she camouflages herself so easily, lost amidst the night and the forest.

Still, the girl in front of you captures all of your attention. Like always, she’s already staring, her brown hair messy from your making out.

“This is the real world, Y/n. I’m not going back.” She says, not leaving any space for discussion. You know that tone too well; Ning’s already made her choice, and it wasn’t the one you wanted her to pick. With big, sad eyes, she adds, “I wish you would free yourself, too.”

Her delicate tone breaks your heart. Deep down, you know she means it. Ning’s following what she believes in, and she wishes she could share her world with you, too.

She walks away without looking back, sure of who she was and what she wanted for her future.

With a heavy sigh, you follow her towards the highway once again.

You’d follow her through it all.

#sol writes #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #aespa x fem reader #aespa smut #aespa x reader #aespa x yn #aespa x you #ningning x reader #ningning smut #ning yizhuo smut #ning yizhuo x reader #ning yizhuo x yn #ning smut

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daycourtofficial · 4 months

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Sweet Dreams of Holly and Ribbon

Summary: you teach the Inner Circle about your home court’s tradition of mistletoe, and someone begins placing them all around the house to catch you underneath them.

Author’s note: this is heavily inspired by Operation Mistletoe by Wkemeup, so feel free to check that out.

“So you just hang them up so you can what- make out with people all the time?” Mor asks, confusion etched on her face as she takes a sip of her wine.

“Sounds awesome,” Cassian says, taking another bite of porridge.

You sigh, “well you don’t really do it to just make out with people,” sending a pointed glare at Mor. “Previous people viewed it as sacred for it’s healing properties, and many view it as a symbol of fertility. It’s only really grown in the Winter Court, but it’s a fun reminder of who we come from.”

Rhys leans forward, “I’m still confused about the kissing thing, I get using it as decor, I suppose. But why kissing?”

“Like I said,” you say, taking a bite of your cereal, “since it survives the winter and blooms during it; many view it as a sign of prosperity and fertility, so maybe people started kissing under it to prompt further fertility.”

Cassian huffs, “you just made sex sound so boring.”

You roll your eyes and point at Cassian, “you’re the one who asked me about winter court traditions for solstice!”

He glares at you, “yeah, well I was hoping you’d tell me you all jump in the lake naked every year.”

You laugh, “oh so you’ve heard of the polar bear plunge?”

Cassian stills, turning his head to look at you with incredible speed. “So you do do it!”

“Well, I don’t,” you say, picking up your glass to drink, “at least, not anymore.” You say with a wink.

Azriel speaks up, his soothing tone taking over the room. “So if you’re caught under the plant, you have to kiss?”

“It’s bad luck not to. You don’t have to kiss on the lips, most people kiss on the cheek or on the forehead.”

You woke up the next morning, coming down the stairs, clinging to the robe wrapped around your nightgown.

Coffee, then getting dressed. That was your plan, after all. You poured yourself a cup of coffee, a big perk to living with early risers being that there’s always coffee ready when you roll out of bed.

You start moving for the doorway to the dining room, to see if anyone is eating so you can say hi, when something catches your eye.

Right above you in the doorway is a sprig of mistletoe, tied together in a bundle with a red ribbon, hanging from the doorway.

You look at it, just as pretty as they are in your memories, the vibrance of the green capturing your attention, when you hear shuffling behind you. You go to turn to see who it is, when a large hand envelops the right side of your face, bringing your left cheek into contact with something.

Not something, someone. Someone’s kissing you on the cheek. Before you can process what’s happening, the warmth that was pressed against you is gone, and Azriel comes striding into view.

“Good morning,” he says nonchalantly, walking out of the dining room, nodding to Feyre as he passes her and out of the house.

You whip your head around to see if anyone else witnessed what just happened, and you see Feyre sitting at the table, a spoonful of porridge stuck midway between the bowl and her mouth.

“Did you- did that - see?” You ask, your flustered state making Feyre giggle in amusement. You bring your hand up to your cheek where he had pressed his lips to you.

You wrote it off as him getting caught up in the idea of mistletoe, until a few days later when you were heading into the library. Your head was down, trying to focus on not sliding since your shoes were still wet from the rain. You look up in time to keep yourself from running face first into someone’s chest.

You reach your arms out to steady yourself against them, apologizing for running into them, until you look up and find Azriel’s amused eyes looking back at you. You look above him, seeing he has run into you right underneath the mistletoe.

“We have to stop running into each other like this,” you joke, as you motion with your finger for him to come closer. You stand on your tiptoes, reaching up and wrapping your arms around his neck as you kiss him on his left cheek, perhaps lingering a bit longer than you should. Breathing in his piney scent one last time, you pull back, letting him continue on his day.

That night the entire group went out to Rita’s, attempting to have some fun despite the busy season. It seems like these days all of you are working double time to ensure you can keep the day of Solstice free from work.

All of you head upstairs to your private room, just large enough for your group to comfortably lounge about. Azriel stays behind, waiting for a tray of shots to take up the stairs. You decide to stay with him, opting to keep him company while he waits. You would offer to help him carry the drinks, however the shadowsinger’s height allowed him to manuever through the crowd with the tray much more swiftly than you could.

“Is all your solstice shopping done, then?” You ask the shadowsinger, knowing he most likely had finished his shopping months ago.

He flashes you a grin, one he reserves only for you. “Mostly, just little odds and ends left.”

You gasp, “As I live and breathe, Azriel hasn’t finished his solstice shopping? It’s a week away- you’re usually finished by September!”

He rolls his eyes at your playfulness. “There’s one gift left I’ve been waiting for - I just have to go pick it up.”

He leans his left arm against the counter, his body facing the room surveying the area.

“Who’s it for?” You ask, trying not to get too flustered at how close his body is to yours.

He leans in closer to your ear, as he whispers, “Beron.”

He laughs, pulling away from you. You try not to let the disappointment of the loss of his warmth show on your face.

You huff and cross your arms, “fine then, keep your secrets.”

“What about you?” He asks, nudging your foot with his, “any last minute shopping to do?”

You went through the gifts you had bought for everyone, very impressed with some of them. You got Nesta an advanced copy of the next Sellyn Drake novel, some enchanted canvases that allow multiple paintings on them, showing them like a moving picture for Feyre, a hand knit sweater from Winter for Rhys, an exquisite wall mirror for Mor.

Yet you couldn’t figure out what to get the male in front of you. Do you go with simple, so he doesn’t think you tried too hard? Or do you go all out, lay all of your feelings for him out there?

Before you can answer, the bartender presents Azriel with the tray of shots, so you lead him through the crowd of people, walking up the stairs.

You go to turn around and make a comment about how unfair it is that he can manuever through the crowd so easily, when you feel him gently place a hand on your upper arm, sliding down, lifting your hand up to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Your cheeks heat immediately, as he lets go of your hand, pointing above the two of you, where someone has crudely hung a mistletoe plant above the top of the staircase.

He smiles at you, “tradition, right?“ before sauntering into the room to boisterous cheers that the alcohol has arrived.

The next few days pass and more and more mistletoe made appearances. You found yourself running into Azriel underneath them, wondering if he was catching anyone else under them.

Rhys was grumbling about his house being ruined by the plants, crudely hung by a nail from doorways, arches, balconies, really any surface, but the rest of you seemed to enjoy them.

Azriel wasn’t the only one you ran into underneath them, having run into Cassian a few times, who loved making a big show of it whenever you two were caught under one.

“Oh, sweetheart! We’re caught under the mistletoe! Whatever will we do?” He dramatically, and quite loudly, said to you one morning.

“Good morning Cassian,” you say, as he wraps his arms around you, planting an overly dramatic kiss to your cheek.

He pulls away, letting you go, starting to walk off, but he turns around and smirks while looking somewhere behind you before he’s gone. You look around, but can’t find anyone nearby.

You weren’tt the only one caught under the plant, with most members of the inner circle caught once or twice underneath the plant. You had caught a glimpse of Elain and Lucien underneath one, turning on the spot to provide them with some privacy.

You got caught under it with Nesta, who kissed you on the lips like her life depended on it. The kiss caused Mor to wolf whistle at you two, and Cassian had to pry Nesta off of you after he felt like it was lasting too long.

But it was mostly Azriel, him always catching you when you’re walking through a threshold where the mistletoe is dangling. He had kissed your forehead, your hands, the top of your head, but usually it was on your cheeks, and as much as you enjoyed the kisses, each time you secretly hoped he’d kiss you on the lips.

Rhys sighs, walking into the living room to find that Azriel and Cassian have already been by here, the room covered in mistletoe. From his beautiful crystal chandelier (a delicate heirloom, he grumbles), to the doorways where they’re crudely hung (those nails will leave holes!), to the ones hanging from the ceiling (really?), Rhys is tired of the plant.

The fresh scent of it coats the room, as he walks towards his mate and hangs his head in her shoulder. “What did I do to deserve this?” He grumbles to her.

She giggles, closing her book, “come on, it’s only a few more days, Azriel has some plan cooked up.”

His grip on her loosens, his body going even more slack against her, “yes but why does my house have to suffer for it?”

She coos, stroking his hair as he pouts.

“I think it’s romantic. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when I caught you under one last night.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively, as Rhys begins kissing her neck.

As if he summoned them, Cassian and Azriel come back through, holding massive bags of mistletoe.

“I’m just saying, Az, you’re going through a lot of effort. I say you just plant one on her.” The general says, shrugging.

Azriel rolls his eyes at his brother, “Not everyone is wooed by someone just ‘planting one on them’.” He replies, using finger quotes at the end.

Cassian sets down his bag as a grin overtakes his face, “so you are trying to woo her.”

Azriel gives him a look that would terrify a lesser man.

“Considering the effort he’s going through, Cass, it’s quite obvious what he’s trying to do,” Rhys responds, “even though he’s ruining my house to accomplish it for a girl who looks at him like he created the night sky.”

Feyre tuts at Rhysand, as he straightens off of her. “Well, I find it sweet, Az. And this is my house too, so continue on.”

Azriel smiles at his high lady, grabbing Cassian’s bag of mistletoes as he walks out, blatantly ignoring Rhys and Feyre’s intense staring at each other as they are obviously arguing telepathically.

You had left for the day before Solstice to return to Winter to drop off some gifts, but hurried back to Night to be able to spend all day Solstice with your new family. You returned to find the house a green chaotic mess, with mistletoe hanging everywhere. Dozens and dozens of sprigs sprouting from the ceiling, almost looking like a garden on the ceiling.

You can’t find Azriel anywhere, unsure of where he’s gone off to. You actually get caught under a mistletoe with both Rhys and Feyre, each of them kissing you on the cheek, Rhys muttering something about not letting live plants in the house anymore as he pulls away.

You eventually retire to your room, deciding if you can’t find the spymaster, you’ll take a nap to prepare for the evening’s festivities. It’s the night before Solstice, and everyone seems to usually spend the days leading up to the holiday drinking their asses off.

Later that evening, after you took a glorious nap, a nice bath, and spent a while getting dressed and ready, you went up to Azriel’s door, knocking softly on the wood.

He opens the door after a moment, taking longer than he usually does, and he smiles down at you, his build taking up the entire doorframe.

“Hey Az, can you come to my room for a sec? I need your help.”

He nods, closing his door behind him, following you across the hall into your room. You open your door, letting him into your space, and shut it behind him. “What did you need help with?”

You pull out the box you had been holding behind your back, presenting it to him. “Open it,” you tell him, putting it in his hands.

The tips of his ears redden, “aren’t we exchanging gifts later?”

You smile, “yeah, but I wanted you to open this one now.” He undoes the ribbon on the box, opening the lid to find a piece of parchment. He sets the box down on your nightstand, standing up straight to unroll the parchment.

Neatly written in your handwriting are the words “Look up”. He does as the parchment says, looking towards the high ceiling of your room to find a small mistletoe hanging directly above the two of you.

“Happy Solstice,” you say, grabbing his shirt and bringing him towards you. You stand on your tip toes, bringing his face into yours.

At your words, Azriel swears he forgets how to breathe, much less think, as your lips cover his. You taste like cookies and coffee, a taste he wants to get lost in when he realizes he hasn’t moved, standing still like a complete buffoon.

He wraps his arms around you, deepening the kiss. He causes you to lean back, dipping you as he deepens the kiss.

When he pulls away, his eyes aglow with joy and humor, he reaches beside himself, pulling something from the shadows.

“If you’d like to open your gift,” he tells you.

You unwrap the wrapping paper, opening the box inside containing another sprig of mistletoe. You laugh, but Azriel starts speaking.

“I asked Kallias to bless it. It is an immortal sprig now. I just picked it up this morning from winter.”

He fidgets with his hands, a little worried this gift isn’t as great as he thought it was. “It’s a little piece of home to have year-round. I know how much you love Solstice.”

You smile up at him, “I love it,” and kiss him again.

He pulls back, obviously needing to tell you something. “Um- it was me, all the mistletoe around the house and everywhere we went.” He raises his hands to gesture all around. “Well it was mostly me, but Cassian helped a bit.”

He sighs, “he caught me one night, hanging them up. Nosy bastard,” you giggle. “So he insisted he help, then big blabbermouth told Rhys and Feyre.”

You laugh, appreciating how much effort he truly went to to do this.

“So I may or may not have been sitting in my shadows all week, waiting by mistletoes for you to walk by.”

Your jaw slackens at his admission, but before you can say anything, he continues. “Cassian beat me a few times when I was about to come out and kiss you. He’d gloat all night about it.”

The shadowsinger rolls his eyes at his brother’s antics.

“But what about the one at Rita’s? How did you do that one?” You ask, confusion lacing your voice. “I was with you the moment we walked in.”

He smiles, a shadow coming by you holding a sprig of mistletoe. “They can’t resist if I ask them to do something for you.”

You throw your head back to laugh, but he wraps a hand around your neck, capturing your laugh with his lips.

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #acotar fanfiction #azriel fluff

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mrpenguinpants · 9 months

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Turning Red

— He's always so serious that they can't help but wonder what kind of emotions he's hiding underneath. Good thing you're around.

— Dan Heng, Gepard, Blade + Jing Yuan

Slight spoilers for Xianzhou and Kafka's companion quest.

[Masterlist]

I've fallen into the Honkai train, but here we are. Also, I know Jing Yuan doesn't fit this prompt but I like him so who cares.

Dan Heng

"Dan Heng! We need one more person to play Celestial Jade!" March hollars down the hallway only to receive no response. It makes her pout, biting the inside of her cheek as she taps her foot restless against the floor, "If you don't come soon then I'll be the one in trouble you know!"

Again no response...

She's checked his room and the archives, and yet no sign of the man. The Express is only so big so surely he didn't wander off somewhere outside right? Maybe you know where he is? Dan Heng seems to talk to you more than he does with her, so maybe he gave you a heads-up that he was going somewhere? It's not a solid plan, but it's a plan nonetheless so she marches her way to your room.

"Hey, have you seen Dan Heng anywh-" March starts as she opens your door only to stop mid-sentence since the eyes of the very man she was looking for are staring right back at her. "Ah. Oops."

Her eyes slowly trail down from his and ah- she understands why he was missing. You're curled up around him, arms haphazardly laid across his waist while your head is cushioned by his chest. Dan Heng doesn't seem to find your sleeping position bothersome, if anything it looks like he's trying to slowly nudge you closer without waking you up. One hand is on his phone, probably typing away on the databank, while the other is curled around your waist. His chin rests on top of yours contentedly as his white and turquoise coat is used as a mock blanket, leaving him in the black turtle neck.

Dan Heng looks like he's about to say something but you shift and mumble something in your sleep and they both go still. Scared that they may have accidentally woken you up and the Express doesn't have enough space for March to run and hide from Dan Heng but thankfully, you seem to settle down and return to your dreams. Thus, March and Dan Heng are locked in a staring contest before she slowly reaches into her back pocket without breaking eye contact.

"Don't you dare," Dan Heng whispers as loud as he dares, although his pink cheeks don't do anything to make him look intimidating.

"Oh, I think I dare," she grins too widely as she raises her camera, making sure it's on silent before she starts to bombard her gallery with a pink Dan Heng because he can't stop her unless he gets up. The most he can do is turn his face away but it shows the world his red ears. Once she's satisfied, she's sticking her tongue out and darts out of the room. She expects that two things will happen. Dan Heng will hunt her down and make her delete the pictures, but not before she sends them all to him. As soon as the door closes and March walks down at the end of the hallway she let her mini explosion commence because Geez! That was so cute! Who knew Dan Heng could be so adorable! Why can't she have that with someone special, this isn't fair!!

Gepard

Gepard Landau. The prestigious young captain of the Silvermane Guards who belongs to the noble Landau family. A personality of righteousness, a good family background, and on top of that he sure has a pretty face. The absolute perfect man.

What a boring guy.

That's the only thought that runs through Sampo's mind as he observes the blond hair man talking to his subordinate from a distance. The two of you are supposed to be on break - he knows this because it makes the other Silvermane Guards more relaxed so it's easier for him to run around - and yet Gepard has his back straight and looks as if he's never heard of what a day-off is. What a shame that those pretty blues only have eyes for reports.

"This part here has been causing some issues for our intelligence team," he hears the subordinate say and Sampo's eyes shift to you. He's heard of you before although not as much as Gepard. A simple errand girl who frequently moves between the Silvermane Guards and the Neverwinter Workshop to deliver messages and supplies. Nothing incredibly remarkable but you're a kind person who keeps to themselves. Sampo thinks you and him could get along if you didn't hang around Gepard so often.

"Let me see..." Gepard mumbles and leans down closer to read the fine print before you turn your head to the side and plant a small kiss on his cheek. Despite the cute gesture, Gepard doesn't change or make any expression. He simply steps back into a polite distance, a hand coming up to loosen his collar as he clears his throat, before reprimanding you on workplace-appropriate jokes. You don't seem to take offense to his lack of response, just adorably hiding your smile behind your paper before waving goodbye to the Captain. Meanwhile, Sampo is coughing violently behind his fist because what the hell was that? So much build-up only for a lackluster ending? As a man of the dramatics, it's too much for him.

"Seriously, there's nothing fun about this guy," Sampo sighs, shrugging his shoulders as if to console himself. He's about to turn and leave but the rushed clinking of armor has him looking back at the Captain.

"Seriously..." Gepard mutters before hiding his face behind his hand. Even from this distance, Sampo can see how red the Captain's ears have gotten just from a simple cheek kiss.

Blade

Kafka thinks you're cute. Really cute.

Everyone in the Stellaron Hunters hides their true emotions behind multiple masks and it's refreshing to meet someone who wears their heart on their sleeve. Although it could also be because you're incredibly bad at hiding your feelings. Even if Kafka wasn't as skilled as she is with reading people, you do a piss poor job. Still, it's fun for her and that's the important part.

"Oh? Back so soon?" Kafka greets you as you step out of the alleyway. Even if your face isn't plastered across the Xianzhou like Kafka's and Blades, it wouldn't look good to be seen conversing with them. Plus you rather like being able to walk in broad daylight without the fear of the Cloud Knights chasing you down to slap some cuffs on you.

"Yes ma'am. We can depart when you're ready," you salute and she can't help but laugh at your cute mannerism. It makes you falter the slightest bit but you hold your pose.

"Good. Good. It must have been hard to pilot a ship so close to the Xianzhou without being detected. Especially given," she makes a gesture at Blade, "recent events."

You only nod at her hidden meaning before she's suddenly stepping into your personal space. You can only make a small noise before her arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to her, and you pointedly ignore how her chest is pressed against yours, and her other hand raises your chin until your lips brush against hers. With her so close, she can see the pink in your cheeks growing and how tense your body is against hers. Your eyes dart from her down to her lip before catching yourself and instead looking behind her. It's cute.

"Would you like a reward?" she whispers next to your ear.

"Don't tease so much."

"Oh," Kafka blinks twice, turning her head to her companion as she lets go of your chin so she can press her fingertips against her mouth like one of those posh ladies when they find out about the latest gossip, "how out of character Bladie."

He doesn't dignify her with a response, just closes his eyes and goes back into his meditation. His face fell into that perfect stone that she could have imagined that he spoke. But those piercing eyes carving their way into her bones are unmistakable that even if they are closed, she still feels watched. But she relents and drops her arms around you before sending you off back to the ship. They'll join you soon.

"That's interesting," Kafka muses, she rolls her fingers as thin magenta strings appear before being flicked away with her wrist. Blade shouldn't be able to register anything but herself and yet, he seemed to notice you.

Jing Yuan

Yanqing has the sneaking suspicion that his General is sneaking off to slack off again. While he knows Jing Yuan is incredibly busy and he tends to do things discreetly, this getting far too strange. The General always has a complacent smile, but recently, it's been a tiny bit more genuine every time he waltzs in. For someone so tall, at least in Yanqing's opinion, he's able to slip past everyone and it's impossible to get in contact with him until he suddenly appears hours later. Yanqing would know, he's blasted the General's phone only to receive a cute emote and a "Surely my lieutenant is more than suitable for this, no?". Does it make Yanqing swell with so much pride that he forgets about Jing Yuan slacking off, maybe, but that's beside the point.

"General, what exactly are you doing in your... "off time"," Yanqing words slowly, unsure of what he was asking is considered a pry into Jing Yuan's personal life and if he will get upset with him.

"You're making it sound as if I'm doing something depraved during this "off time"," Jing Yuan chuckles at how fast Yanqing turns pink at his implications. Yanqing's hands quickly come up in a placating nature as he shakes his head so hard that his ponytail smacks against the wall.

"N-Not at all General! I was just curious- but you don't need to answer if it's something important!" Yanqing struggles through his words but luckily, Jing Yuan doesn't seem to take offense. If anything, he finds it amusing as he rubs Yanqing's head like an overactive puppy. It makes Yanqing huff and shoos away the offending hand before crossing his arms, expectantly waiting for an answer.

"It's not anything that needs to be kept as a secret. I'm simply taking a walk around Xianzhou to distress. You should take some time to do so as well, training every single day without a break will only lead to weary bones and stiff muscles," Jing Yuan advises which Yanqing nods carefully along to. Although Yanqing's eyes drift from the General's eyes to mouth, he seems more...softer around the edges? Even though he's the only one here, it looks like Jing Yuan is speaking to someone else through him.

"Are you sure you're not doing something indecent?" Yanqing deadpans to which the General laughs. He reaches over to ruffle his disciple's hair again before crossing them behind his back and walking ahead. Seriously, Yanqing thinks as he fixes his hair back into place, he can never get a good read on his General.

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