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gojoest · 3 days

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the one with the role play — gojo satoru

— your husband breaking character during role play after you mention the one thing you shouldn’t have

suggestive, MDNI, established relationship (you’re married), written with f! reader in mind but think i kept it pretty gn, alcohol (nobody gets drunk, just a super quick mention of it as a choice of drink at the bar), strangers at the bar role play (or a failed attempt tbh), based on this talk post of mine, wc: 1.3k

“hey, love”, satoru broke the silence while the two of you were folding the laundry one afternoon. (yes, the strongest sorcerer always helps his wife with chores)

“say, love”, you quickly responded, without looking at him.

“you know, i was thinking — we’ve never tried role play”

“that’s what folding clothes made you think of?”, glancing at him you chuckled, “interesting”, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

“we’ve done pretty much everything but that. you’re not curious?”

now was not the time to tell him that you had done this before, with your ex, and that it was fun. no need to remind him that you had other partners before him and make him lose sleep for days to come, like that one time when he found your diary from high school in the attic and read about all the crushes and boyfriends you had. it took weeks and a lot of coddling on your part (you even had to start a satoru only diary and write his name into little hearts) for him to get over it. so you figured you’d keep this little detail to yourself and take it to the grave. or it would be your husband taken to the grave due to lethal jealousy steaming from the fact that another man had laid his hands on you in the past.

“s-sure”, you stuttered, thinking back to that excruciating memory, then cleared your throat before continuing — “yea, we can do that, why not”

“good then”, he tossed the shirt in his hands aside and stepped closer to you. circling his arms around your waist from behind — one hand eventually resting over your chest while the other stopping at your navel and gently rubbing it — he possessively pressed you against his chest and hummed contently.

“someone’s very excited about this, huh?”, you placed your hand over his and tilted your head back to peek at him.

“oh? can you tell?”, he grinned, playfully pushing his hips against you.

“that giant thing in your pants poking me from behind is giving you away, i’m afraid”

“it’s your fault though”, his head craned down so his lips could reach your forehead and trail soft kisses down to the tip of your nose.

standing on your tip toes you raised your hands to cup his cheeks and pecked him on the lips. “of course, it’s my fault that you’re getting all hot and bothered in the middle of the day like some pervert”

“i always get hot and bothered thinking about you”, he pecked you back, then slowly turned you around (concerned that you might hurt your neck if you kept that position up).

“any ideas?”, you asked.

“8pm, the bar around the corner”

“we’re to enact the classic strangers meeting at the bar, huh? okay. anything else?”

“nope, let’s improvise”

[8:13pm, at the bar]

sitting alone on the stool at the bar counter, you kept playing with your now half empty martini glass, drawing circles with it on the surface. you felt a bit weird sitting here pretending to be single and ready to mingle. but oh well.

he was late. you took another sip of your drink and grabbed your phone to check the time again.

“next one’s on me”, a painfully familiar voice approached you from behind. “if you would allow me, that is”

he was late on purpose, you figured. waiting for you to almost finish your drink so he could easily start a conversation by using such a lame but still quite effective line.

“i don’t normally accept drinks from strangers”, you gazed at him, “but an exception every now and then wouldn’t hurt, i assume”

a puckish smile curved on his lips. “may i?”, taking his sunglasses off, he asked for your permission to sit next to you.

“sure”

you were quite impressed at how seriously he was actually taking this, not breaking character even for a second so far. he had made up a brand new persona of himself, introducing himself as “sato kouya” — the ceo of a leading pharmaceutical company, temporarily living in tokyo for the purpose of a big business project.

“enough about me though”, eyes focused on you, he leaned his elbow on the bar counter and placed his chin on his palm. “tell me about yourself — what’s a beauty like you doing alone?”

you giggled (he was just so cute right now). “you’re lucky that i am alone — if we had met a week earlier, i would’ve still been married”

his expression froze at your words. the smile from a few seconds ago was now bleeding into a confused, almost creepy, look on his face — his lips still stretched into a grin while his eyes told a different story.

“hmmm… how so?”, he spoke in a monotone, his grin slowly fading away.

it would be a lie to say his weird reaction didn’t concern you at all but you decided to brush it off, and continued. “you see, i just got officially divorced. my ex husband and i tried out best to keep the marriage going for as long as we could but we were simply not meant to be”, you sighed. “this was the best for both of us”

“no way”, satoru whined. “no fucking way”

“umm… excuse me?”, you tilted your head in confusion.

“i don’t like this”, his face giving you a dejected grimace — brows knitted, lips pursed into a pout and eyes filled with a mix of panic and sorrow taking over the blue in them and turning it into a darker shade. “divorced? not meant to be? don’t even joke about this”, he almost cried out. the thought alone rubbed him the wrong way, tugged at his heartstrings so intensely that it forced him out of character right then and there, putting an end to your little role play escapade (rip sato kouya, you will be missed).

“satoru”, you caressed his hand, “baby. love of my life. this is just an act, please get it together”

“oh”, he gasped in utter shock after his focus fell on your hand and he noticed you were not wearing your ring. “you even took your ring off? why would you do that?”

great, this was getting worse now.

“because of the role play”, you spoke each word slowly, stressing on the last two very carefully.

“but i’m still wearing mine”, he protested, pointing at his ring, “see? you could’ve still acted fine with your ring on and without bringing up divorce and not meant to be’s”, he cried again, a hangdog look splattered on his face.

“i didn’t want to play the cheating wife, that’s why i took it o—“, you were cut off by another dramatic reaction.

“cheating? CHEATING? you considered this scenario?”, his voice was hitting desperate notes at this point. you couldn’t believe he had lost all reason over a play pretend.

you pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke, “okay, that’s enough. you’re being ridiculous right now. i’m going home”

he followed after you like a kicked puppy, whining all the way home. but you had to admit — part of you really loved the fact that he went completely out of his mind over something so silly, that he didn’t know what to do with himself just thinking about you possibly leaving him even in a made-up scenario, that you held so much power over him…

extra:

[later that night, in bed]

done reading for the night and ready to sleep, you placed your book on the nightstand and looked over at your husband sitting with his arms crossed next to you in bed.

“still not over it?”, you nestled your head on his chest.

“no. hurts like hell just thinking about it”, he mumbled.

“come on, stop pouting”, you pinched his cheek, “you can’t go to sleep with a grumpy face”

“yea?”, he glanced down at you, “sit on it then — it’s the only way to wipe that pout off of it”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader

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tsukii0002 · 3 days

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Mc: Remember when I told you about my period?

The brothers: ...

Mc: And how it was recommended that for those days there should always be chocolate and hot water bags because it helped me and gave me comfort?

Satan: Yes, we remember it...

Mc: And remember that I told you so you would not be caught off guard?

Belphie: Yeah...

Mc: Well *taking a breath*, it's time for us to talk about YOUR periods.

Mammon: We do not have periods!!!

Mc: *slamming the table* Periods, heats, mating time…. Call it what you want but it's time to talk about it!!!!

Levi: *very flushed* But...

Mc: But nothing!! I'm tired of waking up in nests in random places in the house time to time!!!! It's not nice to wake up with feathers in my mouth!!!!!

Lucifer:*blushing*...

Mc: I would also like to be prepared in case I find any animal corpses at the foot of the bed!!! I appreciate the thought but I am human!!!! I don't need you to show me that you can get resources!!!! That's what supermarkets are for!!

Satan: *dodging the gaze*

Mc: And it would really be nice to know when you produce pheromones, that would have avoided me a lot of problems in RAD.

Asmo: Ha, ha *nervous laughter*

Mc: Or to know when to prepare myself to wake up in a cave dug in the garden or underwater.

Beel: ...

Levi: ...

Mc: And it would not be bad to know that during your period you are showing your demonic forms, I almost had four heart attacks the first time I saw your eyes glowing in the dark Mammon!!!

Mammon: That was an accident...

Mc: *enumerating with their fingers* Or that your sleep schedule changes, or that you don't sleep at all, or that your temperature changes, or that some of you become non-verbal, or that your wings produce a specific sound as a call…

Lucifer: Enough *massaging his temples while blushing* It has become clear.

Mc: You didn't think that, as a human living with seven demons, I should know these things???

Mammon: We didn't think you would notice...

Mc: *looking at him exceptionally* Mammon, my dear, last time you brought me a cocatrix egg because it glowed.

The brothers: ...

Mc: This is my last warning! Either we talk and set schedules or I take Solomon and Luke and go live somewhere else.

The brothers: !!!!

Satan: *whispering* Why only Solomon and Luke?

Asmo: *also whispering* Mc has given this same talk to Lord Diavolo, Barbatos and Simeon….

Mc: *taking out a notebook* So stop behaving like a pubescent teenager and tell me how your periods are going and if I can help you in any way.

Lucifer: Okay, you win…but this is not like your period.

Mammon: It's not fair!!! It's not like we can avoid it

Levi: *covering his face* This is going to be worse than a public exhibition…

Asmo: Well, at least this way we won't have to hide it….

Satan: *sighing* Will it really do any good?

Beel: *worried* It won't be a problem for Mc?

Belphie: … Well, I do want them to spoil me on my period.

The brothers: Belphie!!!!

Mc: *holding back laughter* That's the spirit.

I would like to write more extensive headcanons about it in the future 😊

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peachesofteal · 2 days

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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader #33 Ghost helps fix up your house or makes repairs - for @glitterypirateduck's Ghost writing challenge

His phone rings again on the following Tuesday morning.

It's been a day and a half, since he's seen you and Orion last. Since he made you promise to call, no matter what, if you needed something. Or if you needed a break, or some company.

Anything. Anything, and he'd be there.

You had tried to push him off a bit, tried to assert your independence, which he appreciates, he values. He likes to know you can take care of yourself and the baby when he's not here. But when he is-

"We're really fine, you know. You don't have to be... available for us, whenever. I mean, like if you have other things. Or people, you don't have to be here all the time. I've been doin' it on my own, and I'm fine. We're fine. I don't want you to feel like you have to-"

His fork clatters to the plate, and your eyes go round as he rises from the chair and steps toward you, firm hand cupping your arm. "I'm here because I wan' to be."

"O-okay, I just don't want you to be here because you think you have to... because you're all the sudden saddled with a kid."

"I'm not here because I feel like 've been saddled with a kid. I'm here because I want to be, because I wanted you the night we made him, and I still do. I want you both." Your mouth drops wide before snapping shut abruptly, warmth rising in your cheeks. You're so cute like this, flustered and nervous, and it reminds him of the night he met you, a sweet little kitten, all alone at the bar. "And you've done more than just a fine job, sweet girl, takin' care of yourself and our baby for me, but when 'm here, it's my job."

So, his phone rings, and it doesn't matter that he's in the middle of spotting Soap at the squat rack.

He drops everything.

"Hi." You're a little out of breath when you open the door, eyes wide and wild, chewing on your lip. Orion is asleep in your arms, blissfully unaware, head lolling on your shoulder, clad only in a diaper.

His head buzzes, still trying to reconcile the truth of this entire thing, the fact that this is his, you and his baby. His.

"What's wrong?" He's massive in your door frame, and ushers you back inside, clicking the lock into place behind him. "What's goin' on?"

"It's... I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called. I just... I don't know how to fix it and you said I could... call, right? So-"

"Hey." His thumb gently presses into the inside of your elbow, and then he squeezes slightly. "It's okay. I want you to call me. What is it?"

"It's the laundry." You blurt, and then freeze, eyes flicking down to see if Ry has woken up. "I broke the washer, and today is the day I do the baby's clothes, but I can't get it to work and... it hates me." He chuckles.

"It doesn't hate you, sweetheart. Let's take a look." This, he can do. Things with his hands, mechanical things, physical puzzles, easy. It's not the first time he'll have fixed an appliance, and it won't be the last.

He takes the machine apart as quickly as possible, pieces laid out exactly where he needs them, washers and screws and everything all accounted for. It's the belt, he discovers rapidly, an easily fixed problem with a new part.

"I'll have to run down the street quick," he tells you, drawing up to his full height and motioning towards the entryway, "but it's a quick fix." You nod, stepping out of the way, small smile on your lips. He promises he'll be right back, that he'll have it done in no time, and you pad along to the door, standing back as he pulls it wide.

"Simon..." you whisper, and he turns, "thank you."

"Of course."

True to his word, he's back before the hour. The low murmur of the TV echoes from the living room, and he gravitates there before returning to his task, driven to lay eyes on both of you, to make sure you're here, you're okay-

and the sight of it stops him in his tracks.

You're asleep on the couch, shirt pulled up and bra unhooked from it's strap. Orion is cradled against your chest, his tiny fingers curled in the flesh of your breast, mouth lax around your nipple. There's a dribble of milk sliding down his cheek, and the sight of it all makes Simon dizzy. He knew you nursed him, but seeing it for the first time fills him with something he's not sure how to reconcile, adding onto the heap of adoration and possession pounding in his heart. It's a different kind of puzzle, the same kind of barbaric instinct and need roaring in his blood, the one that tells him to tuck you away and never let you go.

He stares for a second longer, scratching this moment into his memory as much as he can before he realizes how tired you are. You do a good job of hiding it, smiling and buzzing about, but in the early afternoon light, he can see the exhaustion so clearly, and kicks himself for not noticing sooner.

When Ry starts to fuss, your brow furrows in your sleep, and Simon can't stop himself. "Shh, shhh." He soothes, pulling him free as gently as he can. You twitch, hands searching, and then your head snaps up in a panic, breaths stuttered. "It's okay. I got him, you just closed your eyes, is all. It's alright."

"Sorry." You croak, sitting up and fumbling with your top. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's okay, mama." He's on his knees in front of the couch, in front of you, and you stare down at him, mystified. "What does he usually do after he eats?"

"Uh... burp? And then he goes down to sleep." You yawn. "A change, if he needs it."

"Alright, 've got it, you go rest. After I put him down, I'll finish the washer."

"Oh, no... I can-"

"I've got him. Nothin' I can't handle." He shifts Orion, supporting his head as he props him up over his shoulder, rubbing his back slowly. He wants to do this, wants you to let him do this, wants you to trust him.

He needs it.

You hesitate. "Are you sure?"

"If I need anythin', I'll wake you." There's a burp cloth on the coffee table, and he places it under Ry's chin. "Huh, lad? If we need mama, we'll get her, right?" You soften, posture relaxing a bit, and then you nod.

"Alright, then."

#peaches writes #through me anthology #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghostchallenge #once upon a time someone asked me to write lactation kink and I couldn't do it because I wasn't feeling it for that particular story BUT #it will certainly be in this

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slvttyplum · 18 hours

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heyy pretty, do you mind writing something for suguru and lace thigh highs🫣🫣🫣no pressure at all xx

totally not doing this because you called me pretty xx

suguru got a thrill from ripping your clothes; it just got a rise out of him whenever he heard the fabric ripping and having your smooth skin exposed for him to taste. his pockets would run dry from having to get you new clothes, but it was worth it every single time.

you knew how much he liked to rip the clothes off of you to fuck you senseless, so you used it to your advantage, slipping on your black lace thigh highs for him to tear off. that's all you wanted, but you weren't expecting to get fucked to the point where your legs were numb and you couldn't walk.

once his eyes scanned your boys, a proper thought couldn't be formulated in that little head of his before he went over to you and bent you over. he wasn't going to do anything yet, he wanted to savor this moment. he wanted to take a look at those thighs of yours filling out those tights, sadness almost raining down on him when he realizes that he has to rip those off of you.

running his thumb over his bottom lip as he stares at the view in front of him, taking his finger and trailing it down your back to your ass, placing both of his hands on your ass, a smile on your face that you had to hide. he took the bait every fucking time; you would almost call it pathetic if he didn't fuck you like you stole something and made you cum all on his dick.

"stay just like that." slowly pulling out his dick with a tip that was smeared with pre-cum and covered in a light pink hue, practically begging to be put inside of you. a sight for sore eyes indeed, but there was another sight he would rather see, and before wasting another breath, he runs his hands over your ass one last time before pressing two of his fingers into the fabric roughly and his fingers going through.

a sharp sound of the fabric ripping one second and being covered up by your moans in the other. his heart beating in his ears and more of his cum leaking out his tip, slipping inside of you, a sharp gasp as your eyes squeeze shut, pressing your teeth on your bottom lip, feeling him just slowly keep going deep inside of you.

his hands roughly gripping your flesh, swallowing hard as he feels himself fill out your walls, your walls clenching around his dick. now this is where the narrator would go on about how he fucked you so good you got dizzy and passed out, which did indeed happen. he filled you out well and even finished inside of you, not letting one bit drip out, but because he fucked you so well that it happened repeatedly, he just couldn't stop.

a package almost every day of some new thigh highs and a smile on suguru's face begging you to wear them, but you didn't want to; he would fuck you and not stop; he had no restraint when it came to the things he liked during sex; if he had you do something one time that had him losing his mind, he wanted you to do it again and again until he was physically sick of it; this month was thigh highs, sexy thigh highs that didn't have the chance to live out a second wear.

the sound of him ripping them, following you through work. when you cooked or did anything, you heard the ripping of the tights that you wore.

suguru was trigger-happy, his finger pressing the order button and his other finger pressing into the tights, making a hole, and his other pulling them apart. your wet, dripping core was staring right at him. this was a sweet treat for him, and he wasn't letting it

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #x reader #jjk suguru #jjk geto #suguru geto #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #geto smut #getou suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto smut #sugurugeto #getosuguru

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monstersflashlight · 2 days

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If possible, when you are feeling better and up to it, writing some aquatic monster smut (mermaid-like or octopus-like)??

Ps love your writing I look forward to seeing more 💙

Thank you for your kind words! It means a lot. I chose sea-monster as an octopus-like creature, hope that's okay. I was thinking some kind of half-octopus, half-human. Something like Ursula from The Little Mermaid but like… male and hot? I hope you like this, and I’m very sorry for how long it took me to get to it. 🥰

A good girl at the seaside

Sea-monster x fem!reader || tentacles, praise kink, forced orgasm, overstimulation

You were floating on the beach, still not believing your luck. A weird lady at the inn recommended you the most precious little beach and there was nobody around, it was completely deserted. You spent some time at the shore, basking under the sun with your bikini on, before you said fuck it, and chose to take off your bikini completely. The sun felt marvelous against your naked skin, and not having any tan lines was also a pro. You didn't want to get caught, but deep down you felt a spark of heat at the thought of someone observing your naked form. Someplace inside of you, there was an exhibitionist wanting to come out.

Floating in the water felt like a warm caress against your overheated skin, the sea salt making your body tickle, and your nakedness making you feel naughty. After a while, you felt your fingers pruning. You got back to the sand, laying down flat on your towel, the sun tickling your back and warming your skin. It was wonderful.

"What do we have here? A pretty human gift?" A raspy voice said from behind you. You screamed and tried to turn around.

"What the-?" You didn't finish that thought. A slimy something pressed at your lower back, pushing your body down and stopping you from turning to see who it was. Was that a tentacle? It felt like it. What the fuck. "Let me go!" You tried to scratch the tentacle, push it away from you, but more joined the first one, ascending the back of your thighs, sending shivers up your spine. Some grabbed your arms and pinned them down. Another pair grabbed your ankles and pushed your legs apart. You were completely exposed and trapped under some talkative tentacle monster.

"What a pretty pussy... We are going to have fun, aren't we?" The creature behind you said, a tentacle following a path to your center. You shivered involuntarily.

"What? No!" You tried to break free and turn around, but it was fruitless. The tentacles holding you down were way too heavy, had too much force for you to move.

"Hmm?" He made a sound of utter confusion. "You don't want to? But the lady said she sent me a present. And you are in my beach…"

"What are you talking about?! I don't even know who you are! What you are!" You screamed over your shoulder, still pinned to the ground, your breathing irregular with exertion of trying to get free. You tried really hard to bury the shiver of anticipation under your skin, the wetness pooling at your pussy… The slimy feeling of his tentacles against your heated skin felt wonderful, but you knew you didn’t want it. Right?

"Oh, my bad." His voice sounded completely dejected, like you offended him with your rejection. He sounded sad, and you hated that it made your heart ache for him. He was trying to tentacle-fuck you without even asking first, you shouldn’t be feeling sorry for him… But yet, you felt it. The tentacles holding you down disappeared, and you turned around completely.

He was some kind of sea creature, his upper half looked humanoid, his features flat, but handsome in a weird way. His skin looked wet and shiny, super smooth, like a fish. But his lower body wasn't human, it was a mess of tentacles that looked octopus-like, suckers included. You felt more heat rising inside your body, pooling in your lower abdomen and making your body flush. You wanted to blame the scalding sun, but you knew that it wasn’t the reason. You felt things for tentacles. You were a sucker for them (pun intended). Your heat had nothing to do with the sun, and everything to so with the otherworldly creature in front of you.

He was turning away from you, approaching the water and taking those enticing tentacles with him. Fuck no. "Wait!" You screamed at him before he touched the water.

He turned around, his sad eyes confused again. "You said you didn't want me."

"I- I know." You tried to think of a fast answer. "I- I was wrong." Wrong? What the fuck was wrong with you, that was the real question there. He tried to grope you with his tentacles, he did grope you, and you? You were asking him to come back and do it with intent this time? Dang, you were a pervy human.

"I need to hear it." He told you, his eyes fixated on your face. You felt a spark of comfort knowing he would stop if you asked him to, he already did. And now, with your consent, you wanted him to do all kinds of crazy depraved things to your body. You wanted to experience what a good tentacle-fuck could feel like and not the fake experience you got from your tentacle dildo at home.

You knew you should be more concerned, maybe even more confused about the existence of sea monsters with tentacles and abs of steel… But at that moment you could only feel the heat of his gaze over your body, the still present slimy substance on your skin and the wetness dripping from your pussy. You were horny, as horny as you’d ever felt. And he was there, ready to fuck you if you asked.

"I want you." You whispered, embarrassed.

"Good girl." You moaned at his words, your inner sub melting with his praise. He approached you again, his body undulating and his tentacles rapidly reaching for you. But he didn’t touch you, not yet.

"Aren't you scared, pretty girl?" You shook your head. "You should." He sentenced, making you shiver at the danger in his voice. Dang, that was fucking hot. "You want all of me?" You nodded, lost in a breeze of lust. And then his tentacles touched you, all over. He held you down again, this time on your back. The heat inside of you felt like a raging flame.

He didn’t waste a second. His suckers met your clit and you felt an out of body experience. "You like that, pretty girl? You should see how beautiful you look right now. How pretty my tentacles look against your skin." His words were making you squirm, not used to receive so many compliments. But you couldn’t escape his assault on you, his tentacles holding you down, his suckers taking pleasure out of you without asking.

You came faster than ever, and he hadn’t even had to enter you. He only needed one tentacle and a clever sucker to make you into a mess, and you couldn’t be more grateful. He probed at your entrance, making you moan again as he pushed inside. Two of his tentacles reached your boobs and the suckers latched into your nipples, the sensation so overwhelming that you came again, screaming so loud he shoved a tentacle in your mouth.

“Be quiet, pretty girl. I don’t want others to come see my gift.” He told you as he pushed his tentacles further down your holes. The tentacle in your mouth touched the back of your throat, making you gag as he moaned over you. The on on your pussy touched your G-spot insistently, the sensation to rough and raw that you couldn’t stop the gushing juices you let out, coming again. “You cum so prettily, your pussy looks so pink and puffy around my tentacle… I bet you can do more. Can you do more, pretty girl?” You nodded fervently, wanting so bad to be good for him. To be a good girl.

He fucked your mouth and pussy in tandem, his tentacles touching you all over. After what you thought was the ten orgasms, he lowered his pace. You were panting, your body shivering, and tears running down your face as the assault on your sensitive areas. Your body felt like an exposed nerve.

"This is okay?" A tentacle probed your asshole, pushing inside slowly, breaching your unexplored hole carefully. You wanted to nod, but you weren’t sure you’d be able to move without orgasming again. He kept looking at your face analyzing your reactions, repeating whatever made your body shiver, your pussy quiver, your moans escape around his tentacles.

And suddenly all your holes were full, his figure looming over you as he moved his tentacles all over. Inside and out, he was touching every inch of your body.

"Take me further. Come on." His embrace tightened as he pushed harder and faster into your holes, your moans muffled by the tentacle down your throat. "Good girl." You felt completely controlled, cared and fucked out. All three at the same time. You asked for this, and you were mesmerized by the feel of his skin against yours. “One more.” You shook your head, you couldn’t get more, it hurt so good when he pushed inside, but you didn’t think you could do more. You cried around the tentacle in your mouth and he shushed you, wiping your tears with another tentacle. Gods, he was all over you. “Come on, pretty girl, one more and I’ll stop.” He kept fucking you through your turmoil, the pleasure and pain mixing in the most excruciating sensation you’d ever felt.

“Come on, come for me one more time.” And you came. You felt some fluid leaking out of his tentacles, covering you in a mass of slime, down your throat, up your cervix… You were stuffed full of slimy liquid as he screamed over you.

After all that you just had one clear thought: real-life tentacles were a lot better than silicone dildos.

#sea monster #monster #monster fucker #monster x human #monster imagine #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #terato #sea monster x human #sea monster x reader #fem!reader #monster kink #monster smut #terat0philliac #request

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dante-mightdie · 2 days

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The way i'm straight up dying over the second-wife Price au so far Like I don't think you understand how nice it is to see such a fun take on such an already-lovely idea, but GOD I would love to see Price seeing reader after a good few months of trying to convince himself that he was right in leaving her there. Maybe he always felt that guilt, that twisting in his guts that made him feel like a bastard when he thought about you, maybe he never quite got over the look on your face when the ropes were tied, the fear in your eyes. You weren't supposed to be scared when you looked at him, but you were. He's long since accepted that you're dead. It would just be silly to think otherwise, but he's still got the other wife, right? The other wife, who he slowly realizes isn't nearly as gentle as you were, who didn't stop a moment to smile at passing children or nod at him when he came back from a successful battle. maybe he's terrible for wanting to go back, but then he sees you in the woods, holding a baby in your arms and cooing at the little thing while you wash it. It could be his. That's the first thing he thinks, and then he sees Simon. Simon who should be dead, Simon who defected mid-battle mere days before he met you, Simon the *traitor*who comes up behind you and knocks his forehead against yours so gently and takes the baby into his arms as you smile at him. And maybe Price feels a sort of longing in that moment, a sort of pain he's never felt before, because you look... happy. You look happy in a way Price has never seen on you before. Genuine and comfortable, that soft smile on your face spreading as you chuckle and hug Simon. Or maybe not. Maybe Price turns and leaves, maybe he never quite sees that it's you or maybe he just cant mentally reckon with you being alive without him like this, happier without him after he hurt you unforgivably. Maybe Price doesn't even know if it would be worth giving up his half-assed, but functional marriage with your replacement-that thought still makes him shudder-to try and talk to you again, because you look like you wouldn't even entertain him, and he **knows** that Simon won't I dunno, just some thoughts for you, I hope you like :)) (You have absolutely no obligation to respond if you don't wanna, just want you to know that this au and your writing in general has honestly been something nice to come home to and it's really helped me through some rough days)

simon bumping his forehead against you like a stray cat is awakening something in me

c/w: stalkerish-vibes from chief!price, nsfw, masturbation, sex, mentions of war, torture, children

he had to return a couple more times just to be certain. dedicating a few hours a week to come back to that lake in hopes of seeing if you were actually alive or if his mind was playing tricks on him. he caught a few more glimpses of you. some by yourself, a few with your baby and a couple with your ‘husband’

he’d watched you bath by yourself in the late evening, slipping off your clothes and unknowingly giving him a view of your most intimate parts. not like he hadn’t seen them before. sometimes when he felt extra guilty and pathetic, he’d stroke his cock as he watches you bathe in the lake

he’d also caught you and your child down there once or twice, a genuine happy smile on your face as you help them dip their feet in the shallow tide. he knew the whispers of the clan was getting to you, rumours that you couldn’t conceive but he never had his doubts. he just never had the time to dedicate to you due to his many responsibilities as the clan chief

that’s a weak excuse, still. he had energy to dedicate to his second wife, for a while at least. he soon tired of her and her attitude towards her wifely duties. and he didn’t just mean her bedroom duties, although that was becoming an issue too. he also meant her responsibilities to the clan. she had a responsibility to offer them support and she was failing to integrate herself with them

you didn’t seem to have any issues with your marriage. you seem perfectly happy with your husband. price wonders if you really know who he is. it’s hard to imagine the ex-wife he knew as shy and timid seems this content with the infamous warrior ‘ghost’

price wonders if simon has told you about his time as a prisoner of war under an enemy clan when he was a fresh adult. perhaps he’d told you about how he got all those scars, how he’d endured years of torture before he finally escaped. except, he didn’t stay away once he returned home. no, he went back in the middle of the night. and slayed every enemy in that camp with his own two hands. a blood-thirsty fury in his veins as he takes his revenge

the sweetness only lasted a few minutes before the taste turns bitter. especially when he finds that he’s been shunned from his clan. his actions deemed inhumane, evil, unnecessary. simon didn’t agree, not one bit. he had dedicated his life to the clan and this is how they treat him after he nearly died for them

price had never met him. he was a known name around these ends. probably not to you. you don’t seem too afraid of him when he tugs your clothes off, bumping his nose against yours and pushing you up against a tree. hoists you up and wastes no time in lining his cock up with your pussy. nudges his tip inside your hole before thrusting the rest of his cock in

john watches as you whine and moan and beg for more in a way he never got to see before. perhaps if he had actually dedicated any time towards your pleasure, he would’ve gotten to witness this too. he fucks his fist from his hiding place, imagining that you were falling apart on his cock instead

he wishes he could use some of that famous courage he’s known for to actually come up and speak to you. apologise for abandoning you, not being a proper husband and protecting you from all the people trying to tear you down. yet his feet can’t seem to pass further from the spot he watches you from

he figures he should leave you be, you deserve your peace and your happiness. you seem to have found it. he wonders if you’ve found forgiveness for him in that time too. maybe you’d throw that sweet smile in his direction, welcome him with open arms and tell him that it’s okay

but he knows that unlikely. he’s sure that wolf of yours would show up, sniffing out a potential threat near his mate. bare his teeth and growl at price for even selling close to you. much more likely that he’ll rip john apart with his canines and claws, leave his mangled body in the dirt. he’s not so sure that you’d tell him to heel either, how can he expect you to save him when he left you for dead?

#captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price #price #john price x reader #chief!price #mw2 #cod mw2

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okwonyo · 2 days

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coming home to you sleeping on the sofa.

엔하이픈 ୨୧ female reader six hundred requested！non-idol au fluff established relationship and + cw. not proof-read skinship kissing ( other )

heeseung would kneel in front of the sofa first, after noticing that you fell asleep waiting for him. would admire your for a moment; his eyes would surf on your features just as the light from them front door’s hallway does. would be so endeared by you that he would forget that time is passing, “woah there,” he would say, heart jumping in his chest when you move a little. would lift you up to bed, carefully and would leave multiple peck on your lips after putting you in bed.

jongseong would gently stroke your hair, caress your cheek with his knuckles with a beyond soft look on his face. would try to wake you up by holding your hand rubbing your palm and whispering soft words to you. would tell you about how lucky he is to have the love of his life waiting for him even though she is sleepy. you would wake up, telling him to shut up in a fond voice filled with sleep before sleepily following him to bed.

jaeyun would wrap his arms around you in a careful mention, waking you up would be his biggest worry. would lift you in his arms gently, peppering kisses on your cheeks as he holds the back for your head — while one of his arms is around your waist and you face is in his neck. hushed tone and soft spoken, would plead you to not wake up when you move a bit. would end up sleeping in that exact position because you would end up holding against him too much.

sunghoon would cheese the second he sees you asleep. would have tell you on the phone, a few hours prior, that there is no need for you to wait for him and you would tell him, in between a yawn, that you would be fine. “what did i tell you, sweetheart?” he would whisper in your ear, quietly and teasingly, then would giggle when you whine in your sleep. would end up sleeping there, body over yours as he doesn’t want to wake you up by trying anything else (you would wake up to tell him to get off of you, he wouldn’t do it).

sunoo would stroke your arm, kneeling in front of the sofa, just so he can face you. would do so until you wake up, his sweet smile would be the first thing you see ; although you could barely see it in the dark, the mere light of the kitchen would be enough to make it bright. “where you waiting for me, baby? let’s go to bed, mh?” he would say before giving you a kiss.

junwgon would accidentally turn on the living’s room light, jumping when he sees you sleeping and you would let out a loud groan. turning to the other side, with your sleep ruined, you would sulk for a while. “i’m sorry, babe,” he would kiss your cheek, “i didn’t know you where there”. would kiss you until you break into a chorus of soft chuckles and tell him to stop. would hold you tight in his arms that night.

riki would get worried about how you wasted your sleep schedules for him only, wondering if you would not be too tired the next day. the second thing all over his mind would be not waking you up, almost walking on his tiptoes towards. would stumble over a lot of things however and wake you up at the end. “did i wake you up? i’m so sorry..” he would whisper to you and you would assure him that it is alright with a pat on his head.

this was fun to write ! ^^

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 days

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Hi!! If you know the reference where the person A says the moon is beautiful without noticing the Person B saying yes beautiful while staring at Person A (//∇//) can I have that with the batboys? I know it’s corny lol thank you!

I hope this was what you envisioned but idk.

‘The moon is beautiful tonight.’ You said.

Jason who’s eyes never left you for a single second, seeing no point in staring at anything else when everything he’s ever wanted was right next to him, smiled at your need to bring attention to the beauty of other things others may walk right past by without a second thought.

‘The moons always has been beautiful, and it will only grow more beautiful as time continues.’ He replied.

You looked over at him, only to see that he was staring at you fondly and with a dopey smile spread across his lips, and immeditly felt very exposed by the way he looked at you as though you had intricately hung the very moon and stars above by hand. It was a look you weren’t use to being on the receiving end of -having only heard of similar looks being talked about in books or seen in movies- but now that you were you were at a loss on what to say or do.

‘You really mean that?’ You asked, finding a loose bit of fabric on your clothing extremely interesting all of a sudden.

‘I’d gladly say it a million times over if it makes it more easily believed.’ Jason said as he moved closer to you until your shoulders were touching, he then gently grabbed your hand away from fiddling the loose bit of fabric of your shirt and intertwined your fingers together, not once had his eyes left your person the entire time.

You smiled at him as you leaned yourself into him, leeching off of his warmth as you tried to go back to looking at the moon, but found it hard once you were made aware of the fact that Jason was staring directly at you as though he found something much more interesting to focus all of his attention on. ‘It’s hard to not believe it when your eyes look at me like that.’ You told him.

Jason tilts his head. ‘Like what sweetheart?’

‘Like I’m special.’ You replied.

Jason then chuckles before kissing the top of your head softly as he then rests his head against the side of yours. ‘I could write an entire essay on how special you are to me and still it wouldn’t be enough, so yeah you are special, more than you could possibly imagine.’

Dick smiled as he propped up his head in his hands as he watched how the moonlight practically illuminated you in your entirety.

It was almost as if a spotlight had shone down on you, making Dick unable to look elsewhere but you and that gorgeous smile that blossomed across your face, not that he needed to be forced to look at you when he could be doing so for the rest of his life if he was allowed that simple luxury.

‘The moon sure is beautiful indeed, can barely take my eyes off them.’ Dick said softly in response.

You then looked over at Dick, only to see him looking at you in a way that made your heart flutter and your face become warm. ‘You can stop looking at me now.’ You tell him.

Dick leaned against the railing with a cheeky smile. ‘Why? I was enjoying the view.’ He replied.

‘Oh so I’m the view now?’ You asked, putting your hands on your hips.

‘You always were the view babe,’ Dick said, ‘a view so beautiful I could barely take my eyes off of and I’m lucky enough to get to see it as often as I do.’ He adds as he pushed himself off the railing and walked towards you and held you by the arms.

‘You’re a sap.’ You laughed, feeling your cheeks grow even warmer.

Dick watched as you laughed and took the time to mentally engrave this moment to his memory, from the way your mouth opened to laugh, to the way your whole face practically light up and the way you stood out amongst the rest of the bright, vibrant lights. ‘Yeah but I’m your sap.’ He retorted as he held you against his chest as you both soaking in the moonlight together, all the while only ever looking at one another.

Tim

Was speechless, the words he had preplanned earlier within the day to say to you had long left him as he could only admire you as you basked in the moonlight and looking ethereal amidst the artificial city lights.

This was a state he often found himself in whenever you were just standing there and it was a little embarrassing for him because it only made him think of how obvious he had been about his feelings this entire time. However he couldn’t exactly blame you for being the epitome of perfection and beauty simply just by existing, Tim didn’t know it could be possible to feel this strongly about someone but here he was, unable to speak his mind in your presence without admiring your every feature as though he was seeing you for the first time again.

You furrowed your brows when you didn’t hear Tim say anything, becoming worried that he might’ve passed out from the lack of sleep he’s had recently and went to look over at him, only to see him looking at you with a wide eyed expression and flushed cheeks.

‘Tim, are you okay?’ You asked, moving towards him.

‘The moon is extremely beautiful tonight yes, even when they are within close proximity.’ Tim blurted out and you stopped when it hit you that he wasn’t talking about the moon, but more so about you and now you were both stood in silence and extremely flustered.

‘That’s, that’s really sweet of you Tim.’ You said, breaking the prolonged silence between the two of you as you felt butterflies within your stomach and a warmth spread throughout your chest.

‘It’s- I was only speaking the truth.’ Tim scratched the back of his head as he looked away from you for a split second before looking back at you, gauging your reaction as a positive one and took the chance to shuffle closer to you.

Tim had been in dangerous situations before but being this close to you, sharing a heartfelt moment between the two of you was enough to have him unable to think properly, his emotions were running rampant within him as his heart was unable to remain at a steady and consistent pace the more he was near you to the point he couldn’t help but be hyper aware of it.

‘Well I appreciate you being truthful,’ you tell him, flashing him a smile that almost ended him with how sweet, kind and loving it was, ‘it’s one of the many things I like about you Tim.’ You add as you then rested your head on his shoulder as poor Tim could only stand there stiff as a bored, but that didn’t matter as a smile grew across his lips and rested his head atop of yours, not wanting to say anything else incase it ruined the perfect mood.

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textmel8r · 7 hours

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[ SMAU + DRABBLE ] 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ! ( eighth installment ) in which you find toji fushiguro’s number off a sugar baby site .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight.

୨୧˚ incl; toji fushiguro

୨୧˚ cw; sugarmommy! reader , sugarbaby! toji , smut , submissive toji , finger sucking , masturbation , oral sex (f!receiving) , profanity

୨୧˚ an; so not happy with my writing in this one, probs will rewrite it one day but here, have a couple thousand words of smut🗣️ this is lowkey another filler but lowkey not at the same time? i wanted to fit in another intimate moment before shit goes south awooooooo

You were not fibbing when you said you knew your way around the kitchen. “Holy fuck,” Toji all but moans, tearing into another piece of tender meat with his canines. It was juicy and seasoned almost too much, just the way he likes it. He squints across the table, where you eat in tandem with much better manners than he could ever hope to have. “Who taught you how to cook like this?”

You shrug bashfully under his gawking, wiping your mouth with a dainty stroke of the napkin you had placed in your lap. “I traveled a lot in between semesters at college. Italy, France, Denmark…” You list a few more places that Toji wouldn’t be able to point out on a map. “Those European countries do food so good, I guess it inspired me to give my best shot at it as well.” Self taught, huh? Yeah, you seem like the type to succeed in everything you try.

The man nods, ultimately wishing he had more to add. He wishes he had just an ounce in common with you, a smidgen of relatability to offer. But he doesn’t. Toji didn’t finish school. He’s never left Japan. He’s never cooked a damn thing from scratch in his life. You must’ve caught on to his struggle and decided to show mercy by adding, “actually, right now we’re eating steak au poivre.”

“Steak au po–” He cut himself off before inevitably butchering the name. “What is that? French?”

You’re nodding enthusiastically. “That’s right. I happened upon this dish when I was staying in Bordeaux with a few college mates.” There’s a sweet smile tugging sheepishly at your lips as you recall the memory. “I fell in love with it the second I tried it, and asked the manager right then and there for the recipe.”

Toji shakes his head with disbelief, talking with his mouth full of food. “You’re just full of stories, aren’t you?”

“Some would call me experienced, yes.”

His brow raises. Experienced? Was that a come on? Toji gives way to his own quaint smile, jutting his chin toward you. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“Steak au whatever.”

You oblige his request, repeating the name back slowly so he could attempt to grasp it. “Steak au poivre. Now you give it a go.”

Toji finishes chewing the mouthful of peppercorn-laced meat, swallowing it down with a swig of the Château Cheval Blanc you’d poured at the start of the meal. Some fancy French imported wine is what he gathered from the long winded description you waxed as you topped off an extravagant glass for him. Wine never really appealed to the man—he usually went for the harder shit. The type that you knock back from lowball glasses. The type to get you piss drunk after three rounds—but it was all you ever drank. It was safe to say he was becoming accustomed to your tastes. Maybe the sweetness wasn’t so terrible. He clears his throat, putting embarrassingly too much effort into his “steak au poivre.” It doesn’t sound pretty the way it did leaving your mouth, and he grimaces. “Can’t fucking do it.”

“I thought you sounded good.” He scoffs at that, but you click your tongue. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll just leave the French speaking to you.” The plate before him sits scraped clean. You’re still working on your dinner. Fuck, you’re a slow eater. “You know any more?”

“Any more French, you mean?”

He nods along with a gruff hum, swishing his tongue around his teeth, collecting anything left over of that smokiness from the peppered steak.

“Hm. Tu m'as manqué, Toji.” You hide your grin behind the rim of your glass.

Thick forearms crossed over chest, he croons a deep, barely-there chuckle. “I heard my name. Tell me what you said.”

“No way,” you chortle.

“Ah, c’mon. You’re all blushy.” He licks over the chappedness of his lower lip, knowing gaze latched onto your lips. It was hypnotic, your smile. “You say somethin’ dirty about me, ma’am?”

The way in which your eyes widened coquettishly at the accusation had Toji’s heart beating just a bit more erratically. Like a fawn, he thinks. All that was missing on you was a white, cottony tail.

“If I said something dirty, It would have been in a language you could understand.” Finally, you take the last bite off your dish as well. Hopefully that means dinner is officially over; Toji has been craving dessert since he stepped foot in your house and got showered in ‘welcome back’ gifts. “I’m not the type of woman easily embarrassed by my sexuality. I thought you would have picked that up by now.”

He persists. “What are you embarrassed by?”

“Toji.” His name is spoken sharply, a verbal warning that he was tiptoeing the line. Threatening to shatter that layer of thin ice he stood upon. This is what he’s been needing. This is what he’s been fucking needing.

“I’ve been thinking about you, ma’am.” Any semblance of a filter is long gone, melted by the sheer heat of his desire. His limbs feel heavy, hands tumbling into his lap. They rest on the wide surface area of sweatpant-clad thighs, just sitting there. Feeling himself. “This entire week, I’ve been thinking.”

You seem to get the implications of his confession. “In a sexual way?”

“Yeah.” That’s a white lie. To be truthful was to admit that the sexual thoughts Toji let himself think about you were the minority. Objectifying you in the depths of his mind wasn't enough. He thought about your breasts, sure. He thought about your curves, and your ass, and your mouth, and every other body part that would grant him pleasure. But that wasn’t enough for Toji. Fixations of his tended to lead him astray from fantasies, instead breaching carefully saved memories stored within his brain catalog. When he touched himself, it was more or less to remembrances of mundane tasks you’d dealt him in the past. All the times you had bestowed little gifts and knick knacks on a whim just because they reminded you of him. Or when you drag him to the outlets with you for a shopping spree and he’ll act miserable the entire time, but you both knew it was a horribly crafted facade. Or even, like now, when you’d treat him to dinner because you worry over him and his eating schedule. The little things really counted; a revelation that scared Toji shitless, so he opted to ignore those budding, foreign feelings and replace it with familiarity: lust.

“Toji, honey, are you alright?”

What? His breathing pattern was off kilter, and the muscles of his jaw flexed unconsciously. When had he started palming himself? His right hand had grown a mind of its own apparently, because when Toji stole a glance downward, there it was; kneading roughly at the bulge between his meaty thighs. How desperate was he? To go dormant like that, so consumed with the thought of you that he began to instinctually masturbate himself not even five feet away from where you sit. And why… Why wasn’t he stopping?

“Can we fuck now?”

“Oh.” You barely look shocked. Not the slightest bit appalled like he expected you to be. Instead, slide off a ring that took purchase wrapped around your middle finger. A sigh escapes you as you place the band on the table. “I still have more to ask you. I wanted to know how your work trip went.”

Toji shakes his head, something akin to a toddler trying to get fed vegetables. “No.”

“No?”

“I don’t wanna talk about work.”

“Why not?” You frown, leaning forward against the tabletop. “Was it bad?”

He knows what you’re doing. Trying to make him spill any details about his job. Well, he won’t give in.

A heavy sigh slithers out hoarsely from the deepest part of his lungs, and Toji presses his palms to the table, pushing himself up. He stands tall, much like the tent at his crotch, and slinks along the roundness of the dinner table, walking his fingertips across the top all the while. “I don’t want to talk,” he reiterates, breathy and abrasive.

Finally, Toji stands before you. Still, you are seated, unbothered by the towering man’s presence. No, you’re swirling your wine glass sophisticatedly, lips pursed into a narrow line. Like you’re the slightest bit irritated with his persistent defiance.

God, you won't even look at him.

Or maybe, you were never irritated at all. Toji cops a second glance to your lips, finding the faintest ghost of a frown. “You’ve been acting so… so removed. Ever since you left.” Now you’re looking at him; Toji shudders under the intense fire that billows behind your eyes, wide and wetted with worry. “I want you to feel like you can tell me things. I want your trust, Toji.”

You have his trust. Every last crumb of it resides in the palm of your soft hand.

“... And I know that it’s stupid—I’m stupid for wanting that from you. I know what this relationship is, and I know that there are these unspoken boundaries, but I—I can’t—”

It was the first time he’d ever heard you speak with such a volatile expression. There was a tremble of uncertainty in your vocal chords, carrying into the skittish dialogue that tumbled out in rambles. Something about such a show of pity from you, his Y/n, made his guts churn like butter. He can’t listen to this any more. With swiftness, Toji dives down to press his mouth against yours, swallowing the words that die on your tongue. One hand grips the back of your chair, the other holds the roundness of your cheek. He feels your gasp, feels the way your shoulders jolt in surprise, but he doesn’t release you.

This was really only his second instance of kissing you. The first had been in his bed, with his groin pressed to yours, tongue fighting its way to the back of your throat with greedy fervor. This second kiss was anything but greedy, though. Despite the ache that roiled at the base of his stomach, Toji didn’t serve you a kiss that reflected his desire. Tongues never met and spit was never swapped; just lips on glossed lips.

At last, Toji reluctantly peels away. Lipstick residue feels heavy on his mouth, and he knows he probably looks foolish donning remnants of your dark lip lacquer, but he doesn’t move to wipe his skin. The circular bottom of the wine glass clinks as you clumsily set it down, freeing your hands. They branch upwards, finding his face. A pair of thumbs rub the sensitive pads of flesh beneath his eyes, massaging out those ugly, darkened bags that have accumulated as a result of many sleepless nights. It feels orgasmic, the way you handle him.

“I trust you.” The words are out in the air before he has time to think.

You brighten, sunshine hiding in the crevices of your smile. “You mean that?” You ask him, hands petting down the sides of his neck.

He meant it wholeheartedly. The amount of trust left within Toji was scarce. Too many bad people fucked him for life; showed him the meaning of the phrase ‘trust is earned.’ So it really fucking freaked him out how quickly you came to earn it. A little over a year-–that’s how long he’s known you—you’ve have plenty of time to fuck him over. To batter him. And yet, you haven’t. All you’ve ever shown him was kindness and consideration and warmth and everything else Toji never knew how bad he was thirsty for.

“Wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.”

“I trust you, too, Toji.”

He wonders if he deserves that. Because really, what has given you besides his annoyingly closed-off dickhead attitude? He provides fuck all, but you still stick around.

Toji doesn’t say anything. He swoops once more, capturing your lips in a hungrier kiss than before. All the playful innocence is tossed aside, forgotten in lieu of Toji’s devastatingly furious need to consume you. Tongues finally greet each other in a spittle-slicked tango; he dominates yours with ease, worming behind your teeth just to collect your sweet flavor. Wine, he thinks. You taste like your goddamn expensive ass wine.

He feels feverish. One-track minded, hyper fixated on you. On your crossed legs underneath the table. “Fuck,” Toji breathes into your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip.

Your hand clashes against the hard wall of his chest, patting it softly. A wordless signal that you need some air, so he retracts. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

The plea goes in one ear and falls right out the other. Toji leeches against your neck, dragging the flat of his wet tongue over that little throbbing pulse point. His teeth grate against your flawless skin, completely none the wiser that you’re even talking to him. You thwack the back of his head, and he lurches into the crook of your shoulder, muffling a groan.

“No marks, I’ve got work.”

His eyes roll, face still burrowed against you. He couldn’t give less of a shit about your job right now.

“Come on, let’s go to my room.” “Gimme a sec.” He’s still licking below your jaw, making his way down. This stupidly lavish house had been cursed with three levels, your bedroom holed up at the very top floor. Like hell Toji was going to part ways with your glorious body so you two could safely make it up the two ridiculous staircases. Fuck that.

“Toji, I’m… serious…” Your raucous pants of anticipation suggest otherwise. Toji has sunken to his knees, crawling beneath the table and finding a home on the floor before your seat. His kneecaps scream in discomfort as they pin heavily to the wooden floorboards, but Toji bears the pain well ( he’d always been somewhat of a masochist ). Your legs are still crossed, one knee hinging over the other.

“Open these.” Two calloused hands cuff around the thinnest parts of either ankle. Your legs were conspicuously smooth; did you shave for him? There is an attempt at delicacy when Toji pries your legs apart, and it makes you giggle.

“Here?” You laugh more. Toji suspects you’re patronizing him in a way. “I haven’t even cleared the table. Are you really so impatient?”

And here Toji thought he exercised his patience well. He didn’t jump your bones the second of his arrival. No, he waited like a good boy until after dinner. “I’ve waited for this the whole week.” Restless hands walk up those porcelain calves, strong and lean from working in high heels. They wander up, hooking beneath the junctures of your knees; Toji uses his celestial strength to his advantage, maneuvering both legs with ease until he’s got them resting comfortably over his broad shoulders. Toji turns, cocks his head to give a serpentine lick to the inside of your thigh. Then a bite. “Don’t make me wait any longer. I’ll fucking die.”

You peer down at him. “Don’t talk like that.” You feel yourself. Small hands groping your chest, sliding lower and lower. “You’re not going to die.”

His mouth feels sticky, like there’s a spoonful of honey under his tongue. “I might.”

Your heel drives into his upper back, an impish little warning that makes him throb all over. “Don’t talk like that, I said.” Those manicured hands have garnered Toji’s full attention. They descend all the way to the hem of your luxurious dress, wrenching into its hem. It’s the sexiest sight Toji had ever seen: you pulling your dress up with the quickness of a sloth, inching the fabric up until it scrunches around the dip of your waistline.

“These are hot,” he murmurs, thumbing the waistband of the scarlet panties. They were tight, sinking into the ample pudge of your hips and soft tummy. So fucking beautiful, he thinks, the contrast between deep red lace and the flesh of which it lays upon. The perfect, little present gift wrapped in a low-rise lace thong. “Bet they cost a pretty penny.”

You spare a breathy exhale through your nostrils. “I don’t look at price tags when I buy things for you.”

You bought these just for him? “You spoil me.”

“You deserve to get spoiled, baby.”

He is so mind numbingly turned on. Sickening tendrils of appetence bleed into his vision, his lust coils around his limbs and guide his movements like a marionette. Toji thumbs your—his—panties to the side, soaking in the sight of that pretty pussy he’s longed to be back inside of since the moment he pulled out. His face is close, so fucking close that he can feel warmth radiate off your core and deepen his flush.

Perhaps this is how he begins his journey of repayment. Ever indebted to you, despite your odd relationship being a mutually agreed upon situation, Toji fears you’ve truly altered him. For the better or worse he isn’t sure yet; all he knows is that you make him feel good. Better than he’s felt in fucking ages. You said he deserves to get spoiled? Well so do you, too.

Toji eats you with erotic vigor, delving into the deepest parts of your cunt with his lascivious tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that he doesn’t possess many skills. He isn’t terribly smart, nor is he gifted with great conversational skills like you. He isn't good at holding a real job. Isn’t very good at expressing himself. Not good at abiding by the law, or staying sober, either. But if ever there was an artistry in which Toji had full confidence he had mastered, it was oral sex.

“Oh, Toji,” you gasped, forcing his face deeper with a hand on the back of his skull. “Right there.”

Toji dug you out, excavating your hole with expertise. One hand slipped up beneath your dress, under your bra, pawing at your breast whilst the other busied itself in his pants. He stroked himself to the heady taste of pussy, fanning your clit with hot puffs of breath. You writhe against his open mouth, hips dancing, hands grabbing.

It’s more enjoyable like this, Toji thinks briefly. To not expect a wad of bills afterward in exchange for his velvet tongue. He eats you for leisure, because he wants to, and because you want him, and no other reason. It’s enough that you both need each other.

Toji groans loosely when you yank his hair, getting off on the way you move his head to your liking. “Suck my clit,” you instruct quietly, and he obliges with upmost obedience, nose nuzzling against the tuft of hair at your pubic bone.

Toji opens his eyes for the first time in a while, then thanks God he did. You look something like a goddess, celestial and righteous in the way your body works against his face. Using him to cure an insatiable desperation, with your lids screwed shut and head tossed back on your shoulders. “Are you gonna cum?” He sits up on his haunches a little taller, a little more alert now to fully experience your orgasm. “Cum in my mouth.”

He begs for it. Begs like a little bitch. Over and over again, mumbling the mantra between rough suctions to your swollen clit. Begging wasn’t like him. His father beat the beggar out of him many years ago, said it was weak to yearn for things so badly. The old man was right, Toji has never felt weaker than he does right now, knelt under the table with his head between your thighs.

“Oh my God.” Your voice is strained thin, each syllable pulled taught. The vice grip on his roots start to sting, follicles ripping from the scalp, but doesn’t tell you to stop. “Toji, fuck you’re so good.”

He’s good.

“You’re so good.”

“Mmn.” He squeezes himself, chokes his dick hard. Toji feels it when you cum. Warmth floods the cavern of his slack mouth, gushing and creamy. You fall silent, stunned by the force of your orgasm he presumes. Toji licks you through your high, guzzling down every drop of wetness that seeps from your spasming slit. It’s hot and gushy and messy; cum dribbles past his lips, collecting in beads that roll down his tensing neck.

Only when you blindly push at his face does Toji part ways with your center, leaning past your trembling hand to nuzzle into your stomach. It’s concave with an ongoing exhale; he nips at your navel. “Breathe.”

“Toji,” you whisper. On the come down, you’re a lot nicer; those needy, grabbing hands of yours now stroked down the tangled mess of his damp shag. He presses a handful of sloppy smooches above your belly button.

The erection trapped in the confines of his pants twitch at the dreadfully angelic drawl of his name. “Good?” His question is gruff and pointless as ever; anyone with eyes could tell you just had the most Earth-shattering orgasm of your life.

Your head lolls forward, rolling down to face him. Fingertips brush his chin, collecting the sticky residuals that dampened his stubble. You take your lower lip in between teeth when you bring those same soaked digits to Toji’s open mouth. He doesn’t resist you. Fingers are welcomed; he unhinges his jaw, baring the same holy tongue that just drove you to Heaven. You wipe cum-ridden fingers against the muscle, and Toji clamps around them in a vacuum-esque suction, looking up at you through dark lashes all the while. Your thumb traces the raised flesh on his upper lip. That ugly, jagged scar.

He catches your wrist when you move to flee his mouth, holding you in place. Sucking on you, touching himself along the way. Lapping between fingers, tonguing the thin web of skin there.

“So good, baby boy.” There’s the praise he craved, the praise he played oblivious to get. You claw deeper, jutting towards the back of his throat, pulling a scratchy gag from the man. What kind of fetish was this? You made everything sexy, even whatever this humiliation ritual was; watching him choke down slippery fingers with fat tears bleeding at his waterline. “You are so beautiful, Toji.”

“—oh en nah,” or no I’m not had there not been a barrier blocking his teeth from touching. Toji knows he’s an aged man, one riddled with scars and wounds and bruises and gauges and what have you. His skin is nowhere near perfect, baring disgusting reminders of what he does—who he is. Beautiful is what he’d call someone like you. Someone calm and serene, humble and kind. You’re a beautiful sight, and you’re also the complete and utter opposite of him.

“You are.” He wanted to be inside you for this. Toji had been daydreaming this scenario over and out in his head over the long haul of the week, going through the motions of his plan to fuck you. He’d give you everything tenfold, a savage fucking unlike your first time together. He imagined finally showing you his version of things, bending you over the couch first thing and blowing his load deep into your cunt.

Toji choked again, and a single thick tear fell from his lashes. You whispered sweet prayers, holding his face, wiping his eyes, fucking his mouth with fingers that tasted of your cum. It was a damn mystery how you rendered him so fucking pitiful, to be nutting on his knees into his boxers like this. A damn mystery.

His breaths are ragged when he explodes, hand and cock obscured by the sweatpants that sat low around his hips. Toji doesn’t stop pumping, tugging the shaft with long, hard strokes, wringing himself dry. Dark eyes weld shut, and he collapses against your thigh with a quake of exhaustion. Toji doesn’t know when you withdrew your fingers; the only tell that gave it away was the string of saliva that slapped coldly against his chin in the wake of your removal. He mewls, a graveling sound that sounds as if his voice box had been dragged through a sea of razor blades.

“You alright?”

A flowery hand slithers beneath his damp cheek, and suddenly his heavy head is being lifted. Toji is forced to meet your soft gaze; adoration brims in your eyes, as though you’re proud of him for creaming in his briefs like some flimsy virgin.

“Answer me, please.”

Toji smacks his mouth, preparing for his voice to project broken and fragmented. “I’m fine.” He could do without the pity; you were cautious to a fault. He wasn’t made of glass.

“You’re filthy.”

He grumbles, feigning grumpiness and averting his eyes off to the side. “I just had your pussy in my mouth.”

You bend at the waist, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. Toji melts against you, cradling your face with his semen-stained hand. You don’t seem to mind the wetness. He’s pouting against your mouth, childlike. “I wanted to cum inside you.”

You latch onto his nose, nibbling the point. “Let’s go clean up.” There’s a telling smile etched onto your lips, and your mouth finds his ear. Whispering ever so sensually, “I have a big shower in my bedroom.”

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tidcl · 1 day

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Hi, I have a smau request for Charles (based on c.ai bot lol, and the fact that I love painting), so the reader is invited by her friends to a house for vacation, her friends are all with their s/o and they also always try to set up reader with someone, that's when her and Charles meet, and reader finally gives it a chance because she knows her friends won't stop to set her up. They talk for a whole evening about what they do in life (reader is an artist/painter) and they get along really well. Eventually they get together and reader is very liked by the public, even if there will always be haters, but most fans thinks she's just very adorable (especially because of her insta/twitter posts)

CL — slip up and i call you baby

pairing(s): charles leclerc x artist!reader

summary: you love your friends, you really do. you just wish they’d stop trying so hard to set you up with random guys. [smau + written fic]

fc: faceless

word count: 5.1k

warnings: mild sexual references

a/n: this is such a cute idea! thank u so much for sending it in!! u will not believe how much this idea gripped me like i never write one shots like this its just unheard of for me if im honest. anyway i know u asked for a smau so i will be doing a second part/continuation to this that is solely an smau to make up for that. (ALSO sorry for disappearing i was super sick for the whole week and have been getting my shit back together in the aftermath😭)

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ynusername italy we are in u!!!

Amalfi Coast, Italy

You’ve never been particularly boy crazy. At least not the same way your friends are.

There have been a few not-quite boyfriend’s over the years, but those relationships never last long. They never really get you, or they never really get the art thing. Which means, of course, that they don’t get you and never will— and that’s fine, you’re content with that. If living for your art means you’ll never be in love then so be it and frankly, good riddance to them.

For the most part, you’ve given up trying. You go on a few dates here and there, but you never let them stick around. Even the ones that seem interested in your paintings you don’t bother with— none of them really seem to be able to grasp what art truly is to you. It isn’t just paint on a canvas, it’s living, it’s breathing. You are only yourself with a way to make art.

It’s difficult to put into words.

So you don’t. Instead, you send texts that say ‘thanks for your time but this isn’t working out’ and you keep the men your friends try to set you up with at arm's length. You placate Chloe and her partner Rowan– who collects friends like they’re Pokémon– with, “he wasn’t my type” and “I’m not looking for a relationship right now”, which you suppose is true, but also isn’t the entirety of it. Yet, every time without fail, there’s a new boy at the scene of the crime.

Chloe doesn’t get it, none of your friends get it. You don’t try to explain it to them. So, y’know, here you are again.

Anyway, here’s the thing: they’re getting closer. Inexplicably, without knowing how you really feel about it all, Chloe and Rowan are getting better and better at picking the boys who are able to tempt you. Which is a pain really, because sometimes you’re trying to have a perfectly nice vacation in Italy without the lure of a boy you can’t let yourself have. But alas, these things generally don’t go your way.

You should know that by now.

Charles Leclerc is bang on the money, he really is. He is unbearably cute, like so cute that you have to leave the room when he walks in, because you don’t trust yourself to be in close proximity to him right now. You have a hard time looking at his face when you are forced to be around him. The dimples when he smiles, the squint of his eyes even when he isn’t. If you look too long you’re liable to stare and that wouldn’t lead to anything good at all.

He’s nice as well. So nice, just like Chloe told you. You try to pretend he doesn’t exist and he still asks you questions about your job and the area of Monaco you live in— like he’s even interested, like he’ll remember you two weeks from now. You try your best to be pleasant, to answer without it being like pulling teeth, and to ask questions of him as well. You’ll probably see him again after this, so best to not to go too far and act like you hate him. It’s difficult though, toeing the line between friendly and encouraging of more. Or it feels difficult for you. Charles doesn’t make even the slightest suggestion of the two of you being set up by your nosy friends. That’s unbearable too. Part of you wishes he’d just make a clumsy pass at you so you can rebuff it and make your intentions abundantly clear. But, obviously, he doesn’t, because he’s perfect or something.

It sucks. You hate him, you think.

Or you want to.

On the second day of the trip, you’re on the villa’s private beach, laying in the hot sun. Chloe, Anaïs and Bea are there; everyone else is either still sleeping off the wine from last night or swimming in the glittering ocean. You’ve got a secondhand book, a 2B pencil and a pair of sunglasses over your eyes. You’re trying to read but you just end up doodling, drawing your friends bikini-clad bodies over the text and shading grapes into the margins. Trying desperately not to accidentally put Charles Leclerc’s dimples, messy hair, or sloped nose to paper.

“So,” Chloe says conspiratorially, as you abort an attempt at drawing a slightly squinted eye with thick lashes, “What do you think of Charles?”

You raise an eyebrow carefully at her over your sunglasses, betraying nothing of your inner turmoil, “I think nothing.”

Anaïs laughs, rolling onto her back, “That’s such shit. You practically sprint away from him everytime he comes near.”

“I do not,” you answer too quickly.

Anaïs laughs again, louder. Chloe joins in and Bea raises her eyebrows at you like you’re a fucking liar. You frown, glaring a little before stubbornly turning your head back to your book. The conversation about Charles ends there, but unfortunately your actions have spoken for themselves. A chill of something like panic chitters up your spine and into your shoulders. You have to roll them to make the feeling go away.

As the sun climbs higher in the sky you lose some people to the heat and gain others. It’s just you and Chloe sweating onto your towels when Rowan and Charles finally give up on whatever game they were playing in the ocean. Rowan collapses unceremoniously into the space between you and Chloe, kicking up sand and getting water droplets all over you like he’s a wet dog. You let out a noise somewhere between a laugh and an exasperated groan as you roll away from him, landing in the sand.

“Watch it,” you cry, “You’re getting my book all wet.”

Rowan laughs, “You’re drawing in it!”

“So.”

He pulls a face at you that makes you roll your eyes; then he turns into Chloe, shoving his face into her collarbone and flinging limbs over her. You snort, leaning over to snag the book off your towel before it gets dragged into the mess that Rowan is causing. You’re about to get up and go inside until you realise Charles is still standing there. Has, in fact, been standing there since Rowan ran over. Your breath catches, heart skipping a beat as you look up to find him standing there.

“Hey,” you smile briefly at him, quickly looking away from his damp hair and bare chest (–which is difficult to do because, holy shit–) so you can gather up your towel.

“Hi,” he replies.

He might smile back. You don’t look. You’re trying to get the image of his washboard abs out of your head. This proves difficult when you clamber to your feet and find yourself face to face with him.

“Are you heading back?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

God, you want to kick yourself. You’re being so awkward, and right in front of Chloe too, who may not be watching but is absolutely listening to you make a fool of yourself in front of a guy you have very firmly said that you are not interested in. It must be clear to him too, that you’re trying very deliberately to not be interested in him. You cant tell what would be worse; if that means he’ll think you’re a weirdo or if it means he’ll take it as a sign that he should make some kind of move.

Ugh.

“I’ll come with you?”

“Hmm,” you blink yourself back into existence, seeing the questioning look on Charles’ face, “Yes, yeah. Sorry.”

You say goodbye to Chloe and Rowan who barely look away from one another, still rolling around in the sand like teenagers.

“Gross,” you say to Charles, as the two of you trudge through hot sand toward the sandstone steps that lead up to the villa.

He laughs, a breathy thing that tapers off with a sigh, “A bit, yes.”

You don’t say anything else, but you find yourself staring at his back and the way his muscles shift and move underneath his tanned skin. At the top of the stairs you part ways, he smiles at you and you offer something awkward in return, trying to pretend you hadn’t been looking at him. You don’t think he notices, but your cheeks red burn anyway.

You don’t see him watching you leave.

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chloegarelli hungover, sunkissed and lovesick

Amalfi Coast, Italy

Dinner is a huge affair, as it always is on these trips.

You, Anaïs and Chloe spend three hours in the kitchen that afternoon making chicken fricassée and about a hundred different side dishes to go with it. Everyone crowds around the dinner table to eat and drink even more wine than the night before. Piero Piccioni plays on the old record player, crackling away as you laugh and talk and tell stories with your friends well into the night. You watch the sun set through floor-to-ceiling glass windows and you wish wish wish that you had your paints right now.

You brought along a set of oil pastels and one of your art notebooks, but it doesn’t compare at all to painting. If you could get your hands on cadmium yellow in all it’s hues, maybe vermillion and a powder blue, your lack of paintbrush or canvas wouldn’t even matter. You’d use your fingers if you needed to. It bothers you so much that you get up in the middle of clearing away the meal and go to your room for the pastels and notebook. You need to get it on a page at least.

You push a few plates to the side, folding out your notebook and immediately marking the page up with a creamy white pastel. Bea teases you when she comes over to take the rest of the dirty dishes, but you just mumble something unintelligible, too engrossed with smudging the sunset into something that looks like what you’d seen out the window. When the oranges and yellows blend to your satisfaction you take the black and brown and draw in the top of your friends’ heads, not thinking about how much attention to detail you’re paying to the shape of Charles’ side profile.

When you’re finished, you’re surprised to see that the table is cleared save for a few half-full wine glasses and a fresh bottle. Only Chloe, Rowan and Charles are still sitting by you. You’re listening to another Piero Piccioni album now, or maybe just the other side of the record. You remember saying goodnight to the others and saying yes to a glass of wine, so you’ve not been totally dead to the world, but it’s all in a bit of a haze.

You think this might be part of the reason why you can’t hold down a boyfriend. The disappearing into your art like you cant breathe until it’s finished. That may as well be the case if you’re honest.

You sigh, wiping your stained fingers on the next blank page, then you take a long sip from your glass of merlot, pretending you dont notice the others’ eyes on you.

“All done?” Chloe quips, somewhere on the border of teasing and being annoyed at you.

You look at her, your eyes just narrowing enough for her to notice. She does and purses her lips. You raise an eyebrow to ask okay, what’s your fucking problem? And you see her eyes flash to Charles. You follow her gaze to see him and Rowan pretending to look disinterested in your answer. Charles is tracing the base of his wine glass and absently biting the inside of his mouth. You have to tear your eyes away.

“All done,” you answer, tone clipped, before gathering your things (including the wine glass) and leaving the room in a move you hope doesn’t come off as too rude.

At your back you hear Rowan ask Chloe, “What was that?”

Chloe means well, you think as you wind through the villa, making your way to the balcony overlooking the private beach. She wants you to be happy and she thinks you need a boyfriend to be happy. But she’d found the love of her life in Rowan after only a few years of dating around and she doesn’t quite understand that it’s never going to work like that for you. There aren’t enough people out there that understand the kind of passion you have for your art and certainly not many that would also be compatible with you. You’re fine with that, but Chloe doesn’t know what to do with it. Especially not now she’s cottoned onto the fact that you have some kind of interest in Charles. It’s killing her.

It’s irrelevant though, whatever interest you have in Charles doesn’t factor into anything. He’s cute, he’s nice, but so were the dozen boys that you’ve already dated and not continued dating. So really, Chloe needs to stop pushing it because it’s pissing you off. You’re here for a holiday, not to be forced into conversations with a guy you don’t know. If she needs to have an argument to finally understand that, then so be it. You’ve been friends for years, it’ll blow over eventually.

You flick a switch and blinking lights illuminate the balcony. Fairy lights are wound up the posts and draped on the awning, intertwining with the lush green vines that have grown up through the wood slats. The air is balmy and the breeze light as you settle into one of two cushioned chairs situated by a coffee table. It’s perfect. You spread the oil pastels out next to your glass of wine and set your open notebook on your crossed legs, listening to the sound of waves lapping against the shore.

You’re alone for what feels like a long time but is probably only an hour or two.

When the sliding door clunks open you expect it to be Chloe coming over to have it out, but it’s not. Instead, Charles slips through the gap with the rest of the wine gripped in one hand.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling at you in a way that makes dimples carve in his cheeks, and dashing any hopes you have that he’d walk right past you.

“Hey,” you forget yourself for a moment and bite your lip on a broad smile.

He holds the bottle out toward you, offering more. You lean over your notebook and hold your empy wine glass up in acceptance.

“Merci,” you say, and in a moment of weakness (and probable wine drunk-ness) you gesture at the plush chair across from you.

Charles, somewhat caught off guard, looks between your outstretched hand, the chair, and your face, before shaking his head almost imperceptibly and finally taking a seat. Despite his apparent shock, you find it hard to believe he’d come out here simply to offer you some of the last of the wine. Surely, this is Chloe and Rowan’s doing. Though, strangely, you cant quite bring yourself to care.

He sets the bottle on the coffee table, next to your oil pastels. You lean forward to place a few back in their rightful spots, snagging your wine glass as you go.

Charles eyes’ scan your face for a moment, searching for something you suppose, then he points at your notebook, “Have you been drawing?”

You nod, “Mmm.”

You think perhaps the answer is a bit obvious. He seems to realise this, you watch a blush spread onto the top of his cheeks and he flutters his eyelids slightly, almost like rolling his eyes at himself. You don’t think about his eyelashes, thick and dark as they brush against his cheekbone, and you don’t think about his eyes, the lights reflecting off them, making them sparkle.

“What are you drawing then?” he asks after a moment of collecting himself, an edge of embarrassment to his voice.

You give in easily to the strange urge you have to show him, grabbing the notebook off your lap and holding it out for him to see what you’d been scribbling in the book for the past two hours. You let him take it off your hands, ignoring the spike of anxiety. He holds it gingerly, like it's a precious artefact (of course, to you, it is), which makes something warm bloom in your chest. You take a sip of wine and gesture for him to flip through a few pages, which he seems hesitant to do without permission. The book is angled in such a way that you can see most of the page, so you’re content to let him. Or at least you are until he flips to the page you’d started when you’d first come out here.

Panic drops like a stone in your gut because he’s looking right at a fully rendered drawing of his eyes. It’s in amongst some pillars strung with lights and covered in climbing vines; your best attempt at capturing the way the beach looked earlier in the day; and, perhaps your saving grace, Chloe half asleep on her towel. But the drawing of her is haphazard, it’s half-scribbled and half-finished, whereas the one of Charles eyes’ is as detailed as the sunset scene you’d done the page before. It had been something you just needed to get out, drawn in one of those hazes of yours. You’d felt better after it was done, your hands had stopped feeling like they were itchy.

Now, you itch to snatch the notebook off him, but you fear that would be even more incriminating. So you watch him look at the page and try to sit with the panicked feeling spreading in your chest.

Eventually, he points at the page, “Is this me?”

You bite your lip, breathing slowly through your nose to try and abate the blush spreading up your neck. You don’t say anything exactly, just shrug and rock your head back and forth in a kind of confirmation that doesn’t really admit anything. Though, there’s no denying the drawing is him.

“It’s good,” he says, seemingly stumbling over the words, “It’s very good.”

You frown into your drink, “Thank you.”

“I mean it.”

You know he means it. It’s not that.

“Yes,” you put down the wine glass, looking at him but avoiding eye contact, “I know. I know it’s good. I’m just… I’m embarrassed,” you admit.

He furrows his eyebrows– or it’s more that he squints and his eyebrows fold in with it. You watch his tongue dart out to run across the top of his bottom lip and you stamp down the less than innocent thoughts that come bubbling up at that. He waves the hand that’s not still holding carefully onto your notebook about for a moment, trying to conjure up words that he doesn’t have yet.

Slowly, he says, “You shouldn’t be embarrassed. I– It’s–”

He’s about to say flattering, so you cut him off, not wanting to hear the tone of it, whether it be pity or something else entirely.

You try to explain yourself, “Things get stuck in my head sometimes. Like after dinner,” you reach forward and flip the page back one, to the sunset, “I have to get it onto paper. Or… or… it just runs laps in my head for the rest of eternity, I guess. I don’t stop thinking about it.”

You cringe internally. You’ve just told him that you were so consumed by thoughts of his eyes that you had to draw them immediately. That is perhaps worse than just wanting to draw him because you thought he was cute. Charles raises his eyebrows, clearly surprised by your admission, but there’s perhaps also something sincere in there? You can’t pinpoint it, but it makes you feel a fraction better you think.

You sigh forlornly, “That’s weirder, huh?”

He laughs, properly laughs, and it sends some strange feeling skittering down your spine, “No. No, I get it. I don’t have any way to get it down as quickly as I’d like, but I definitely understand the feeling.”

You bite the inside of your lip, hesitant but still curious, “You understand the feeling? Really?”

“Yes,” he smiles easily now, relaxing more in the chair after he places your notebook onto the counter with a cautiousness you still don’t expect, “For me, with racing, it’s like I get an idea and I can’t sleep until I try it on track or talk about it with someone. Some of them don’t work, or aren’t possible, which is fine, but if it sounds right to me and it checks out with the people that it needs to, then, well, then it literally does run laps in my head.”

You laugh, mostly to yourself. You’re not sure yet if he understands what you’re saying, but he’s trying. That’s more than you can say for a lot of people. You try not to let that thought linger for too long.

“You think it’s similar?” you ask in a way you desperately hope comes across as curious and not accusatory.

He hums, waving his hand around again for words, “Perhaps. I think the urgency is the same. The passion is the same. Do you ever feel like something terrible will happen if you can’t–”

“Yes,” you’re a bit breathless in your haste to agree, to talk about this feeling with someone who understands, “Yes. I do. It’s like I need to put it somewhere before I lose it. Otherwise, it won’t be perfect, or it’ll be too late.”

“Exactly,” his eyes seem to light up, for a long second you watch the flickering lights reflect in them, “Exactly.”

“It’s never as good as I want it to be,” you admit, finding it easier to look him in the eye now that some strange barrier between you has been broken, “It’s never quite how I imagine it in my head.”

Charles points at your notebook, “These are very good, really. I don’t see how they could be better. But,” he shrugs, “Eh, I will win a race and still think of everything I did wrong.”

You nod eagerly in understanding as you lean back into the chair, finally relaxing into the cushions. It’s strange to have this conversation, knowing you’re talking about two entirely different careers, but feeling like they’re so similar. Maybe it’s just you and Charles that are similar, maybe your jobs have nothing to do with it? You don’t know, you just know it’s nice to feel like someone gets what you’re talking about.

Charles continues, speaking like he’ll explode if he doesn’t get this off his chest, “It’s there all the time, do you know what I mean? Maybe I’m not thinking about it every second, but it’s always there waiting for something to draw attention to it. And people ask what else is going on in my life, and of course I do other things, and I enjoy other things, but I want to be on the track. I want to be driving whenever I can.”

You nod again, more subdued now, “Mmm, right. I want to be making art all the time, and when I can’t it’s like missing a limb. To me art is– it– it’s like–”

“–breathing,” he finishes, almost the lilt of a question to it, but not really, it’s like he knows exactly what you mean… how you feel.

You exhale, long and slow, “Yeah. Like breathing.”

Both of you are quiet for a little after that. You’re trying not to stare at him, but it’s not easy. He’s looking at you almost blatantly and you can feel blood rushing to your cheeks the longer he stares. The air feels thick with some feeling you can’t place. All you know is there are butterflies in your stomach and a smile keeps pulling at the edge of your pursed lips.

The smile takes over as you catch him starry-eyed in your peripheral vision, you mutter, “Stop that. Stop looking at me.”

“Why?”

You tip your head back so you can’t see him looking at you, “Because.”

“Because?” he laughs breathily, shaking his head at you, “Okay, well, tell me if I’m misreading anything, but I’m pretty sure that drawing of me in your notebook says something, at least.”

You run a hand down your face, sighing loudly, “Yes, okay. I suppose it does. But– I–” for a moment you struggle for the right words to explain yourself, “I guess I’m not really looking to date anyone.”

He tilts his head to the side, furrowing his eyebrows and looking for all intents and purposes, like a confused puppy, “You guess?”

You nod, resisting the urge to just launch over the table and grab his face. He is very cute and he is making this so hard for you.

He sucks his teeth briefly, shrugging, “I’m not really either.”

“Alright,” you say, “Good.”

As over as that should make the issue, strangely enough it doesn’t feel like you’re done with Charles Leclerc and it certainly doesn’t feel like he’s done with you either.

(instagram)

@ynusername just posted…

liked by @charlesleclerc, @beabarouh and others

ynusername nothing to see here😇

Amalfi Coast, Italy

You try to avoid Charles after that, you really do, but he doesn’t quite let you.

For a few days of the holiday you give him pointed looks and purse your lips a lot when he’s around. Chloe catches on straight away and that makes it all infinitely worse until she finally realises she might need to leave you alone (yeah, shocker). When Chloe finally forces everyone to get off your back about Charles, it becomes much easier to be around him. You’re not glaring at your friends while they make eyes at you, or worrying if you’re acting weird; you’re just allowed to be.

It’s nice. He’s nice.

But you knew that already.

Neither of you are looking for a relationship so there’s no pressure for it to be anything at all. But you have this sneaking suspicion that perhaps both of you are looking for a relationship with eachother regardless. You try to ignore the thought.

On day five, you’re sitting together on an outcropping of rock that overlooks the ocean and you’re letting Charles doodle in your notebook with a ballpoint pen. The bare skin of both your arms are pressed together, they stick with sweat from the hot midday sun but neither of you seem to care. As you watch him doodle inexpertly you can smell him— salt and sweat and whatever cologne he uses masking the very faint scent of burning rubber. Your hair, still damp, brushes his forearm, you wonder if you smell of acrylic paint and mildew from all the water cups you accidentally leave out for your paintbrushes.

You reach out to trace a line he’d made, “Here, it should be more like…” you taper off, taking the pen from his hand and quickly fixing the curve of the beach before handing the utensil back.

“Hmm,” he hums, giggling a little, “I guess that looks better.”

“You guess?”

He nods, “What if I had a very specific vision?”

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, leaning back to look him in the eye you tease, “A vision. Did you?”

He tilts his head down to look at you. You’re very close now, you can feel his breath fanning over your face. In the reflection of his sunglasses you watch your lips part slightly and your eyelids flutter. Your chest grows tight with anticipation and maybe a little bit of panic. Still, you reach out and slide his sunglasses up to settle in his hair. You’re a little careless, but you like the way his hair pokes out from them at odd angles. As he breathes out you hear it catch for a split second.

“Did you?” you repeat, knowing he won’t remember what you were talking about.

He blinks twice, still staring at you, “Hmm?”

“You said you had a vision,” you breathe.

“Oh,” as he says it, his eyes flicker down to your mouth, only for a second, but it’s long enough to you know you’re done for.

You both lean in at the same time, your noses sliding off each other in your eagerness. You breathe a kind of laugh into his mouth and you feel him try to suppress a smile against your lips. It’s slow for the first few seconds, just you and Charles figuring out how your mouths fit together. His mouth is warm and wet and so soft, and it’s easy to lose yourself in it. You move the hand that had adjusted his sunglasses, sliding it up his shoulder to the back of his muscled neck. Your fingers weave into the short hair at the base of it, your nails scratching absently there. He groans, ever so slightly into your mouth and it sends heat skittering down your spine, into the low of your gut.

The hand of his that isn’t clutching onto your notebook slips forward and winds around to press at your bare back. He pulls you closer to him as you slide your hand up to cup the back of his head, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Soon it’s a mess of tongue and teeth and Charles blindly shoving your notebook somewhere it wont slip into the water so he can grab you with both hands. He tastes like red wine and coffee and you love the way his fingers dig into your skin and the way his teeth have been grazing at your bottom lip, like he wants to sink into it.

You’re almost in his lap when you’re forced to pull away for air.

Foreheads pressed together, you breathe heavily into the space between you. Your hand is still stuck in his hair and one of his on the small of your back, the other holding your knee. The sides of your noses touch, you nudge yours against his affectionately, tempted by the proximity of his mouth.

He laughs and you feel it against your lips, intermingling with your own breath, “Alright. That was–”

“Yeah,” you finish, dipping forward to kiss him again.

You’re lost for another few minutes. Tongue and teeth and the sound of the waves crashing against the rock behind you. And his hand on your jaw and in your hair and pulling you closer closer to him.

He pulls away this time, turning his head to press your cheeks together, mouth at your ear, “So,” he drags the word out with a laugh, “are you looking for a relationship now?”

You snort unceremoniously, and tease, “Hmm. I guess I would be amenable to that.”

“You guess?” he asks— but not really needing to at all because you can feel his dimples pressing into your cheek as he smiles knowingly.

You nod, smiling too, “I guess.”

🎨 yes of course i made a playlist>> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6cAJaZjvK0V7SrmxoMosBX?si=ADlJGHxxQYKnlZ1jWFJxfw&pi=a-AI0MKbo3RTqE

taglist: (pls message if you'd like to be added to the taglist for charles. my yuck! one is full so need to start a new one😭)

#charles leclerc #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc smau #f1 x reader #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x artist!reader #⭐️requests #⭐️asks

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timewillpasssoon · 23 hours

Note

hiii can you write a joost x female reader angst? they argue, he yells/says some mean stuff but it ends in fluff? 🫶

HOW COULD YOU?

pairing . Joost Klein x fem!reader

content . angst, the dutch in this is from google translate so if its bad lmk, mentions of yelling, insults, stress, alcohol, eurovision disqualification, fluff at the end

summary . when joost urges you to leave the house on a cold night, he starts to regret not opening up to you in the first place.

word count . 1.2k words , 6.5k characters

author's note . quick question, are y'all interested in nsfw? just wondering, if so send some ask.

You and Joost stood in the middle of the living room, tension crackling in the air, geting thicker and thicker as time passes by. His words cut through you like a knife, each one sharper than the last. For the past hour you've been trying to get Joost to eat and open up.. He would turn away and say he's not hungry. He'll say he's not hurting. He lies through his teeth, he was hungry and in pain, desperate need of help. So why doesn't he want it You? You tried to get him to open up to you, but you just couldn't. Everytime an attempt was made, he would slightly raise his voice.

Then finally, he yelled, his voice rising in frustration. Your eyes welled up with tears as you tried to hold back your own anger. "I'm your girlfriend, liefde! I'm here when you need someone to lean on!" You wanted to scream it out, yet it came out as a whisper, your voice cracking with emotion. He scoffed, his anger still beneath the surface.

"Well I don't need you! I am perfectly fine, there is nothing we need to talk about!"

"Can you atleast eat!?"

"For crying out loud I'm not hungry! Just stop being such a bitch."

The argument escalated, each word a dagger aimed at your heart. Joost's voice echoed off the walls, the last word hanging on your brain.

"You just don't get it, do you?" You looked at him in the eyes, rage and empathy were the only two things you could feel. "You clearly are in pain because of the disqualification! Just talk to me- we've been dating for 2 years, for crying out loud! Yet you still can't tell me your problems? Wat een man ben jij." (What a man you are.)

"You can't keep pretending like everything's okay when it's not!" Tears stung your eyes as you struggled to find what words to say.

"I thought we could work through this together." You uttered out, your voice trembling. Joost shook his head. "I don't know if we can," he admitted. He looked down, slowly then turning to the front door. "You should go."

You shake your head, words can't come out your mouth. Your tongue is tied together and you don't know if you can untie it. "Joost- please."

"I said get out. Ik wil je niet zien." (I don't want to see you.)

Your heart was throbbing so fast it felt louder than him,.Joost is staring at the front door then turns to you, red puffy eyes with baby tears coming out from both eyes. His blonde hair was a mess. It was covering most of his eyes but you can still see the pain in them.

"Prima." (Fine.) You take big steps yet they feel like your still miles away from your destination. You go to open the front door, "I hope you come to your senses."

Those were the last words he heard from you. Before you walked out. It's been two hours since you left his house...

and frankly, he's scared. He kicked you out in the middle of the night. It was eight pm when he demanded you to leave and with each second goes by, its past ten.

He calls you, he leaves voicemails, texts messages.

Still nothing. Checked social media and there was still nada.

God he felt awful, the worst boyfriend in the world. All of this happened because he didn't want to cry in your arms. He really did want to let loose, reveal that everything is not okay.

Yet he couldn't.

He didn't want to burden you with his problems anymore. Joost felt like he had too much baggage no one wanted to hear. He thought that everyone wants his happy-go-lucky side. You jusy wanted his true self. The Joost that is willing to tell you his feelings.

He decided to call one of your friends that happened to live by the neighborhood.

"Hello?"

"Is reader with you?"

The other line was quite crispy, Joost can hear a tv in the background, sounded like laughter in the back, maybe a comedy.

"No, why? Is everything alright?"

Joost sighed, fidgeting with a stand of hair. "No, me and her got into a fight and I made her leave- I haven't heard from her!" He exclaimed.

"Woah, woah, deep breaths." The friend on the line said, "Don't you have her location? Check if she's near the area, I'll stay on the line while you do that."

Joost quickly checked his phone to see if you turned off your location. You didn't, you forgot to. "She's in the nearest bar!" The friend hummed. "Go to her, she only drinks when she's stressed the hell out."

"Thank you so much," Joost happened to be crying again, quickly grabbing his keys and jacket. "No problem, get get her." The friend hung up on him as he raced to your location, being around eight minutes away if he ran the whole way.

He bolted as fast as he could, petrified about your safety. Where if you're black out drunk or not.

Pacing to the bar, precious seconds going by, he finally made it. it was one of the least popular bars near so there wasn't any hassle to get in. As he walked inside, he saw a women with the same color hair as you. Your head down on the table with around two shot glasses, there was three more earlier, the bartender just took them.

He sped-walked towards you, careful and still just incase you were still mad at him. He tapped you on your shoulder, but you didn't raise your head up.

"Ik heb een vriendje." (I have a boyfriend.) Was all you said. "I know." Joost calmly answered, his accent triggered you to lift your head up.

"Joost?" He nodded as he sat down next to you, his hand reaching for yours. You didn't push away his hand, as much as you wanted to, you knew he was in pain.

"Why are you here?" You softly say. You'll like to say you ignored him but you couldn't. You were certainly mad at him, but he had his reasons of sheltering himself away. So you listened instead of scolding.

"Reader, I'm so sorry- I didn't want to bother you with my problems. I feel like I just have too much going on for you to care." You felt destroyed at the thought of Joost think you don't care for him. Joost was rubbing circles on your palms.

He continued, "Can we go home, I would rather we talk there."

You smile at the chance of him opening up. You immediately say yes, standing up to leave. All your drinks were already paid for.

As the quiet, yet comfortable, walk back home he held you tight. Clinging onto your left arm for dear life. He still felt guilty for leaving you.

All alone in the streets. You told him it wasn't a big deal, that you could protect yourself. Yet the feeling guilt was still there, on his tongue. The taste was horrid.

Joost unlocked the door, letting you step inside first before closing the door behind him. That's where you engulfed him in a huge hug. Tears coming back for the fourth time.

That night ended with a deep conversation, with cuddles on the couch along with some ice cream half way eaten.

"I appreciate you having the courage to tell me all this."

You muttered your sentence out, about to knock out cold, your body longed for sleep but you kept awake for a bit while.

"I should thank you."

He smiled, tugging you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath breezing though the right side of your neck.

The warmth of each other's bodies made you two warm. You still weren't ready to give up on him.

You'll never give up on him.

LETSGOO FINISHED THIS IN 3 HOURS!! part 2 of let me think... is in the works don't worry, i have two other requests on the way as well.

im okay with nsfw requests, even if its a bit spicy or all the way. check out my other account!!

#joost klein #joost x reader #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein fluff #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein fanfic #Joost angst #justice for joost #joost klein x fem reader

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viixenvi · 2 days

Text

𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 | 18+

Summary: You have been planning to steal some information from the Avengers compound. You successfully break in but what happens when the one person you never wanted to see again ends up catching you?

Characters: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Warnings: Torture, fighting, reader gets caught and tied up, heavy make-outs, slight flirting, some oral (Nat receiving), reader leaves Nat high and dry, villain fem!reader (Reader and Nat hate fuck whenever they catch each other guys)

This was not my best work, actually kinda bad and not proofread so forgive mistakes and like forgive me if it's bad I just had this idea weeks ago and decided to actually write it at 3 AM

Minors DNI

It was only a matter of time before you could escape. Sneaking into the Avengers compound was hard, it took weeks of planning and landing a job as a maid.

Stark was always hiring and it was just perfect when you got a call back that you had been selected for the job. Of course, this job came with risks to your plan. If you were suspected at all by any of the avengers you'd be finished. Which is exactly why you had a disguise.

Shape shifting was your specialty. It had just happened oneday, you woke up with powers of some sorts. You had no idea how to control them or how you even got them.

You were hoping this hard drive you were planning to take had the answers to some of your problems. You could only change your appearance, make others see you differently.

The only person you had to avoid at all costs was Natasha. She knew things about you that you hadn't told anyone else. You and her had a long history, one that you prefer not to think about. You had fought her previously, working with Loki. That went down hill fast and you managed to stay low since then.

Now you were definitely going to set off their radars. You have a plan though, you always have a plan.

"Can you get the lab too while you are at it?" Tony asks me as I mop the floor. I look up and nod, giving him a shy smile. He walks away, his phone in his hand.

Perfect excuse to be in his lab. You walk towards the lab, your heart racing. It was time, finally. You felt relieved, it was finally going to be over and you'd never have to see the avengers ever again.

"You are not authorized to enter this area." The voice startles you slightly. J.A.R.V.I.S was a pain to deal with.

"Mr. Stark asked me to mop the lab," You tell him. You hear nothing or a minute before the card scanner beeps with a green light and the doors click. That was surprisingly..easy?

This was too easy, you hesitate for a moment. You glance around the lab before your eyes land on a hard drive. It's the hard drive. No way Tony would just leave this out conveniently, not when he knew there was a chance it would be stolen by anyone.

But it's right there, and you don't think you have another chance. So you slowly walk up to the table, pretending to mop and swiping the drive off the table.

It swiftly makes the journey to your pocket and you walk out of the lab, leaving the mop on the floor. You have no idea how you can get out without at least being detected.

Stark was far from stupid, but your powers deceived him enough. Now all you had to do was fake an emergency and leave. You pick up the phone, pretending to get a call and panicking.

You find Steve in the living room, cleaning his shield off. "Can you please tell Mr. Stark I have to leave? There's a family emergency!" You spit out before he can really react. You are in the elevator as he says he will.

Something about the way he looked at you was confusing. He didn't even ask if everything was alright like you thought he would. If Steve was one thing, he was compassionate.

You knew they knew about your plans, or at least that you were there to steal the drive. As if on cue, the elevator doors open and Natasha is staring right at your face.

"Hello милый," her voice is sweet, just like how it used to be. You stand there for a moment, drinking in her features. You had spent the past weeks avoiding her and you never got the chance to really see her.

"Natasha, any chance you can let me go?" You say, one hand on the back of your neck as you laugh awkwardly. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. So it's a no.

Her fist raises to your face and you block it, swiping your leg under hers. She falls back and manages to flip onto her feet. You land a punch to her face, which angers her.

She kicks your stomach, causing you to stumble back. Before you can even think, she punches your face. You can feel the blood gushing out of your nose. You wipe it away with your hand while Natasha stands in front of you. She's focused on your face and movements.

You could tell she was analyzing you. You both hadn't fought each other in a while and it was obvious you were holding back. You couldn't get yourself to hurt her.

Natasha runs past you, jumping up off the wall and wrapping her legs around your neck. You pin her arms back and lean down, flipping her over in front of you. She breaks free from your grasp and jumps, spinning and kicking you directly in the face.

You fall over and close your eyes, consciousness barely hanging on. Natasha is a damn good fighter and you could admit it. Natasha hovers over you, pulling the drive out of your pocket.

"Some things don't change," She says just before you black out.

When you finally wake up, pain surges through your body. The familiar metallic taste of blood in your mouth reminds you of what happened.

You move to pull your hands free but it seems they cuffed you with some heavy metal cuffs. They definitely seem to be stopping your powers from being used. You are in a bedroom, which seems to be weird for the team as they have their own interrogation room and cells.

A figure comes into view and you know it's Natasha. "It's funny, you always end up in front of me bound by something," She chuckles. I sigh and close my eyes, the headache pounding in my head is not helping the pain.

"If you are going to kill me, just do it."

Natasha pulls her knife out, pushing the tip under my chin and lifting my head. "Aw, you wound me, baby."

"Don't call me that," You spit, clenching your jaw. You and Natasha always had a love-hate relationship. You were a villain and her job was to kill them.

"Tell me why you need the drive and maybe we can have a little fun," She whispers in your ear. You decide to play along, long enough for her to get you out of these cuffs.

"If I tell you, will you take these cuffs off?" You ask, giving her a defeated look.

"Yes."

"They paid me to take it, said there are plans on it they need. I didn't get any other information. I just know that they can kill me easily." Natasha sits on the chair across from you, spinning her knife in her hand.

"Who?"

"I have no idea. Some alien guy, he's weird looking," You tell her. You try to steady your heartbeat and avoid actions that will tell her you are lying.

Natasha seems to like this answer because she gets up and walks behind you. A moment later, the cuffs are no longer clasped on your hands.

You feel Natasha's hands on your shoulders, gliding down your arms. You almost shiver at her touch. You don't want to play into this, but she has given you no choice.

There's a smile on her face when you spin around, your hands on her waist. Your lips meet hers and the kiss is almost electric. Her lips are soft and you taste the cherry lipgloss.

She pushes you onto the bed but you flip over and get on top of her, unzipping her suit. Her belt is thrown onto the floor, not before you take something out of it.

"Fuck, I need you so bad," You whisper against the skin of her neck. You kiss down it, your warm lips sending shivers down her spine.

Her hands roam your body, pulling up your shirt. You stop her before she can fully take it off. "No, let me take care of your first, baby."

She pulls you into a kiss before you descend down her body, leaving trails of kisses. You pull the rest of the suit down to her ankles, kissing up her thigh.

You reach her lips, kissing them before spreading her legs and pushing your face close. Your tongue glides over her clit, circling it. Natasha moans, lifting her hips up and throwing her head back.

You wanted so badly to finish what you started, but you needed the drive and Natasha wasn't going to distract you again.

So you pull away, crawling on top of her and grabbing her face to kiss her. You carefully place a tazer disk on her nack and get off her before activating it.

Natasha gasps and falls unconscious from the tazer and you cover her up with a blanket. This was payback for the last time she caught you. This was your thing, always leaving the other wanting more. It kept up the attraction.

This time you may have gone too far, but your life depended on getting this drive and you didn't care what you did to get it.

You won this time.

#natasha romanoff #steve rogers #tony stark #natasha x reader #angst #x reader #viixenvi #natasha romanoff smut #natasha x you #black widow x reader #smut #kinda angsty #nat and reader have a complicated past #some smut

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ghosty-writes-23 · 2 days

Text

Let Me Be Your Inspiration. - Leon S Kennedy.

!TAGS!: Fluff, Leon being husband material, !CONSENT IS KEY!, SoftDom!Leon, Praise, Hints Of Degrading, Cockwarming, Blow Job, Eating Out, !WRAP IT, BEFORE YOU TAP IT!, Mating Press, Choking, Spit Play, Aftercare.

Pairing: DI!Husband!Leon + Writer!Fem!Reader.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: “Want Me To Fuck You Like The Characters In Your Books.” After a cozy night in with your husband editing your books, you decided you want to recreate the smut scene you had written early in the back with your darling husband Leon.

Word Count: 4.5k

Thank you for all the support, it means alot❤️

-Ghosty❤️

----------

18+ Content // Minors DO NOT Interreact // 18+ Content.

On a cold winter’s night you were snuggled into your comfortable and cozy marshmallow couch, with Oreo curled up by your side purring softy as she enjoyed the warmth of your warm blanket and affection. You were wearing one of your husbands’ oversized hoodies since the weather was a little chillier than usual tonight and you couldn’t be bothered lighting the fireplace, you had been engrossed in your story writing for your next coming book project, that you had been working on for the past couple of months.

It was a spicy enemies to lover’s dark romance about a girl that is a rookie agent that falls in love with a higher up government agent that is her boss, they don’t get along at first but after a steamy training session things get a little more heated between the pair, and yes you did use your husband Leon for inspiration with his consent of course.

Finishing your final sentence, you glanced down at the time on your computer seen it was almost 6pm, which meant you had to start making dinner soon, since Leon had cooked last night even when it wasn’t his turn, but just as you stretched your arms above your head, your back popping slightly as some of your bones moved back into place, you heard the front door open and the familiar heavy boots on the hardwood floor that belonged to your darling husband.

Ace your German Shepard came flying into the room excitedly but panting, before he disappeared into the kitchen to get a drink, turning your head your eyes landed on Leon as he was taking off his jacket and placing Ace’s leash on the hook beside the door.

You didn’t say anything but you let your eyes run along the curves of his body, his t-shirt was tight around his biceps, showing off his muscles he worked hard to maintain for the sake of his job and bedroom activities, since he liked to go for multiple rounds especially after a stressful day, or being away for long periods of times because of missions. Sometimes you wonder how lucky you were to meet Leon when you did, you will admit it wasn’t the most romantic setting and was in the middle of a zombie outbreak, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

*Flashback.*

September 30th 1998 was a night you would never forget, it was night filled with unspeakable horrors, zombies and other creatures, the smell of rotting flesh and gunpowder and even an unexpected romance between yourself and a young rookie cop, you were at university and an English major with a love of book and writing even your own stories. You lived in raccoon city at the time of the incident; you had headed to the RPD as they were promising shelter and medical care for all citizens and you didn’t have much option since your university dorm room had been over ran with your classmates who had now been turned into flesh eating monsters.

When you had reached the police department, having had to go through the back and through the back fire escape and into a bloody hallway with bodies everywhere, you tried not to gag as you headed to what you hopefully thought was an unlocked door, luckily it was and you found yourself in the east office area on the first floor.

You were surprised to see some of the sections had already been opened, almost as if somebody had been through, you had armed yourself with a pistol you found on a desk and you decided to go and see if you could find anybody alive. You had walked around looking for anybody, but there was no sign of life expect for zombies and these gold awful creatures that looked as if they had been skinned alive, you had found out they were very sensitive to sound so you had to tread very carefully, you were on guard the whole time.

It wasn’t until you were on the 3rd floor balcony when you meet the man that would make this night of horror a little easier to bare. He wore a police uniform that was currently soaked with rain, his dark blonde hair was sticking to his forehead, he was an officer and was trying to make the same sense of this situation as you were. for a moment you both where speechless as if you were studying the details of each other’s face.

“I’m Y/n.” you say softly breaking the silence between you too, the male reached up and tucked some of your fallen wet hair behind your ear. “I’m Leon.” He says causing you to smile softly at his gesture, you felt yourself blush slightly and you could see him smiling as well, you were covered in zombie blood, creature gut juice and god knows what else and yet Leon looked at you as if you were the most beautiful woman in the world.

You two had survived the night together, not leave each other’s side and fighting side by side, when you finally got out of the police department and where on the outskirts of the city you breathed a sigh of relief, even though you had gotten injuried in your leg by landing on a piece of broken glass after you and Leon where chased by the sewer monster that was an alligator but that was no normal alligator.

You had been leaning against Leon for support as you both walked down an old dirt road. “you know this would make a great story.” Leon says as he helped by supporting your back, he had offered to piggyback you but you knew he was just as exhausted as you were and you didn’t want to be a burden on him.

“I am not writing the horrors we witness into a book.” You laughed shaking your head at him. “come on you could write an amazing story.” Leon says making an embarrassed blush to come onto your cheeks, you had told Leon about your passion for writing stories and he wanted to read your work.

“If I write something I will send you a copy.” You tell him and he gave you a smile, the same one he gave you when you two had meet not even 24 hours ago. “I look forward to it.” He says as you both traveled to the next city and you could finally have the shower you so desperately wanted.

*End Of Flashback.*

It was one hell of a night, and as perfect as your marriage seemed now, there were times that isn’t wasn’t so easy and balanced, you were there when Leon used to drink himself to sleep because he couldn’t deal with the trauma of Raccoon city, you where there when he blamed himself for every person that he loved and cared about dying, he pushed you away thinking all he ever brought you was bad luck, there where times he would purposefully not come home after a mission because he didn’t want you see him in the state he was in.

you were both nearly driven to a divorce because that is what you thought Leon wanted, you even had the papers mailed to you, but after a dangerous and life threatening mission and when he saw the signed papers that were on the kitchen counter when he returned home, he knew things needed to change, he made a vow to get better to be the husband you needed and deserved, he went to therapy and you both went to marriage counselling and now you were in the best possible place you could be and are even stronger as a couple now.

You also knew that your pets had an positive impact on your marriage as well, Ace was like your younger son, even thought he was an older police dog he acted like a big puppy, always full of energy and wanting to play games especially around Leon when he was home, but he loved affection from the both of you and he was a handful, then you have sweet but slightly temperamental Oreo that mostly keeps to herself and will only show affection when she wants too, but she like cuddles on a winter night or staying around either you or Leon when your home.

As your eyes meet his blue ones there was a small smirk on his lips. “What sweetheart.” Leon asked as he walked over to you and placed a gentle kiss on your neck, his slight stubble softly scratching your neck causing you to giggle softly. “just happy.” You replied before feeling another kiss being placed on your neck this time you could feel his teeth softly grazing your neck making you shiver in delight. “Well, I’m going to shower and then I will make dinner for us.” Leon says as he moved away from you, but quickly you reached out and grabbed his hand before he got too far.

“its my turn to cook tonight, you cooked last night.” You tried to argue with him as you gave your husband’s hand a soft squeeze, but Leon shook his head as he leaned down and gave your lips a soft kiss. You could still taste the faint hint of his sweet sports drink he takes when he is working out on his lips, it was berry flavoured.

“I rarely get to cook for you, please let me tonight.” He says resting his forehead on yours it was true Leon rarely cooked for you since he was rarely home because of his job and never getting time off work, the only reason he was home at the moment was because after his last mission to Alcatraz, he insisted on having some vacation time afterwards which was luckily approved.

Once it was approved Leon rushed home like an excited puppy, finally gets to spend some time with his beloved wife. His callous hands gently cupping your face and his thumb softly caressing your cheek, it always melted your heart when he did something like this, you knew you weren’t going to be able to argue with him.

“Fine but I’m cooking tomorrow.” You tried to playfully argue with him, but he just smiled and gently kissed you again. “whatever you say sweetheart.” He mumbles cheekily against your lips before kissing you again then pulling away going upstairs to the bathroom.

Shaking your head at his goofy antics you couldn’t help but grin slightly to yourself, as your head rested on the back of the couch, even after all of these years Leon still makes you feel the same butterflies you felt all those years ago on the RPD balcony, even thought you where both older and more wiser to you he will always be the man that saved your life and for that you were enterally grateful for meeting him.

*Later That Night.*

After eating the dinner Leon made, it was a simple pasta dish since he asked you what you where craving and you said carbs, he always knew exactly what to make you, it was a chicken and cheese pasta. Currently you were in the living room, a random movie playing on Netflix in the background so it wasn’t dead quiet.

Ace and Oreo were sleeping together on the large pet bed in the living room since it was big enough for the both of them and fluffy, while Leon was reading over what you had written today, as you wanted his approval on it and for him to proof read it since he can always find mistakes where you can’t and his grammar skills were slightly better then yours.

Leon edited your chapter from today, one of his hands was on your laptop his blue eyes scanning your words and fixing a few grammar mistakes, his other hand was in your hair as he gently massaged your scalp as your head rested on his sweatpants covered thigh while his cock rested perfectly in your mouth as you cockwarmed him, you wanted to show your husband how much you appreciated his help and what better way then to let him use you for his own pleasure for a while.

You used your tongue softly to feel every bump, vein and ridge as you made a soft slurp noise, so you weren’t drooling everywhere. He was heavy on your tongue, but the weight brought you a sense of comfort as your eyes were closed happily. When you felt a gentle tug on your hair your eyes fluttered open before you looked up at Leon through your lashes. “you really do spoil me doll.” He softly praises you as his hand moves from your hair to your face, his callous hands gently stroking the soft skin of your slightly blushing cheek.

Instead of replying you took him deeper in your mouth causing you to gag slightly, but you pushed that through aside when you heard Leon’s deep groan, the sound alone was enough to make you clench around nothing. “Fuck princess.” He grunts before he moved your laptop onto the couch beside him and gives you his full attention, with his now free hand he used it to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail to keep your hair out of your face.

There was a slight pain in your jaw, but you pushed that thought to the side and lifted your head up slightly to give yourself some room to swallow the precum that was already in your mouth, you gently sucked on his cock tip causing a soft whine to leave his lips before you started to bob your head at a steady pace as you sucked in your cheeks.

You could feel him moving his hips slightly to the rhythm of your head as you tried to take him deeper, but it caused you to gag slightly, you could feel his thumb gently caress your cheek wiping the stray tear. “don’t push yourself to much sweetheart.” Leon tells you causing you to look up at him.

You could see the lust in his eyes but also the love and affection, you wanted to make him feel good like he had done for you countless times, You used your hands to pump what you couldn’t fit before you felt him twitch on your tongue, you knew he was close by the pitch of his moans, breath a deep breath through your nose you decided to push Leon’s cock deep into your throat until your nose was touching his pubic area. “Fuck Y/n.” You heard Leon curse loudly as you felt his body tense up then a thick steam of cum filled your throat and mouth.

A few tears ran down your cheeks as you tried your best to swallow what you could, pulling off with a soft pop you placed your hand over your mouth as there was quite a bit of mess, you swallowed the rest before coughing slightly.

Leon looked at you worriedly as if all the pleasure was gone from his face and he was worried about you. “I’m okay.” You reassured him after you coughed a few times and caught your breath. “you sure?” Leon asked you as he gently rubbed your back, you nodded your head before you felt his thumb on your bottom lip.

“as pleasurable as that was, it was very stupid of you.” Leon says looking into your eyes, you could hear the seriousness in his tone, but also the worry and care. “I know I’m sorry, I just wanted to make you feel good.” You say to him with a soft pout, but Leon couldn’t stay mad at you felt him press a soft kiss to your lips as he rested his forehead on yours. “knowing your happy and comfortable makes me happy.” Leon says making you playfully roll your eyes. “that’s not what I mean.” You say as you look up at him to which he just grins at you.

Getting off the couch Leon picked you up with ease causing you to giggle softly as you clung to him. “where are we going?” you asked as he started to walk upstairs to your guys shared bedroom. “to bed sweetheart.” Leon says but there is a smirk on his lips, he was up to something, and you knew it. On the way to your shared bedroom, you started to kiss and softly bite your husband’s neck to tease him, you could tell he was smiling and even felt a gentle smack on your ass.

Once in your bedroom he kicked the door closed and laid you on the bed, his neck was covered in little love bites done by you which caused you to grin as he hovered over you. “my turn.” Leon says as he pressed a kiss to your lips and then one on your jawline then your neck, his hands going under his hoodie you’re wearing and gently caressing the soft skin of your body.

His touch alone made a shiver run down your spine as he started to trail his kisses down your neck to your chest, then pushing his hoodie you were wearing up and placing more kisses down your chest trailing down to your stomach.

When he reached the top of your shorts Leon’s loving blue eyes looked up at yours, nodding your head he hooked his fingers into your shorts and carefully pulled them down, leaving you in your panties on your bottom half, you could see the hungry and lust clouding his eyes as he licked his lips when he saw the wet patch on your panties.

He gave your clit a soft kiss through your panties causing you to gasps soft and grip the blanket under your body. “Leon.” You whine his name softly causing a deep chuckle to leave his lips.

“I know baby I know.” Leon says smirking to himself before he pulled your panties to the side and ran his tongue up your wet folds in one swipe, causing a sweet moan to leave your lips as you bucked your hips slightly, your fingers finding their way into his dark hair and softly tugging, pulling him closer to your wet heat.

Getting your message Leon used his index finger and middle finger to spread your pussy, before sliding his tongue inside and slowly thrusting it as his nose gently bumped your clit, as his stubble gently scratched your inner thigh with every movement.

You where withering under him, your toes curling as your thighs trembled against his head. “Fuck.” You cursed slightly as your back arched slightly but he didn’t stop, only gripping your hips slightly harder keeping you steady for him. You could hear him softy slurping and even feel him suckling, it was getting to much for you as you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

“I’m cumming.” You moaned sweetly as you gripped the pillow under your head, you could hear Leon groaning against you as he doubled his efforts and pulled you closer to his face as he buried his face in your wet core.

“Cum for me sweetheart.” Leon groaned against your core, his deep and raspy lust filled voice alone was enough to push you over the edge, the knot in your stomach finally snapped you came with a loud cry of Leon’s name, your back arched off the bed as you felt your whole-body tremble.

When you finally came down from your high you gently pushed Leon’s head away with how sensitive you were, when he reluctantly pulled away his face was wet and there was a wide grin on his face.

“seem after all these years, I can still leave you breathless.” Leon says as he licked his lips, you playfully roll your eyes but there is a laugh on your lips as well. “it seems you do, now are you going to hurry up and fuck me.” You say back at him with a smirk. “yes ma’am.” He says before reaching into the bedside table draw to grab a condom and some lube.

As Leon ripped open the condom packet with his teeth and placed the rubber protection around his cock, you had grabbed the bottle of lube and applied some to your soaked heat. You knew you were wet enough but this was just a safety precaution to not cause you any discomfort.

“You ready darling?” Leon asks as he tapped the tip of his cock on your pussy a few times, you nodded your head biting your bottom lip as your legs rests on either side of his hips, slowly he began to push in the familiar starching making you moan softy and slightly dig your nails into his muscular shoulders.

He always stretched you perfectly like nobody else could. One he had fully bottomed out and you had adjusted to his size comfortably Leon leaned forward and gently kissed your head. “you okay?” he asks looking down at you.

Looking up you gave him a smile and leaned up and softly kissed his lips, as you gently kissed Leon you could feel his hips start to move slowly and steady, pleasure ran through your body causing you to moan against his lips as you both moved with each other, fitting together like puzzle pieces.

But as slow and sweet as his thrusts where you needed more, you needed him to be rougher with you, reaching over you grabbed one of his hands there was gripping the pillow by your head you placed it around your throat.

“be rougher with me Leon.” You moan softy wanting him to choke you, he stopped for a second his hips stilling, you through you had said something wrong and possibly made him uncomfortable, but before you could ask him what’s the matter, both of your legs are placed on his shoulders in the mating press position as his hand that was currently around your throat slightly tightens.

“Is this what you wanted doll, for me to fuck you like the characters you write about in your books.” Leon asks as he leaned down to your ear and gently bites the lobe as his once gently thrusts where hard and deep causing the deep to creak slightly.

You wanted to argue with him, but you couldn’t deny it you loved it when Leon fucked you like this, you liked it when he was loving and gentle, his touch careful and delicate, but other times you liked it when he was like this rough and slightly mean, when he bent your body for his pleasure, but you knew his ultimate goal was to please you. “Yes.” You choked out as your eyes started to roll back as Leon’s cock was hitting your sweet spot perfectly causing you whines and moans to leave your lips.

“then I’ll give you some inspiration.” Leon groans feeling you tighten around him as he picks up the pace, he pressed your legs closer to your chest and tightened his hand around your neck slightly more causing you to hear your heartbeat in your ears, as you start to feel lightheaded. Your moans were getting whiner and higher pitched, soon you felt Leon’s other hand came up to your face as his thumb was on your bottom lip as he gently pulled your mouth open.

Knowing what he was going to do, you laid your tongue flat for him before you felt him spit into your mouth causing a whine to leave your throat as you swallowed. “dirty slut.” Leon grunted as he grinned down at you, he knew how dirty you liked things, he had read all your books and he knew you used your bedroom activities for inspiration for them, he was just glad that he could bring these scene you had written down to life for your pleasure.

“Leon.” You moaned loudly feeling the familiar knot in your stomach, you knew there was a mess of lube, precum and your juices on the bed beneath your ass. “I know sweetheart, I know.” He grunts moving some of your sweaty hair out of your face as he thrusted into your soaked pussy, your gummy walls sucking him in and never wanting him to leave.

“You going to cum for me baby?” you heard Leon ask and you nodded your head quickly feeling the familiar tightening in your stomach. “Yes.” you choked out in between moans; your thighs were trembling, and your head was feeling light and hazy. “Cumming.” you cry out as you let out a high pitch moan and came around Leon, you felt him soon follow filling up the condom.

After a couple of moments, you both found yourselves laughing and smiling with each other as you leaned up and brushed some of Leon’s wet and sweaty hair from his face. “so, I take it you like what I wrote today.” You say with a grin as this was exactly how you imagined the chapter you had written today.

“I did but maybe next time we can do some roleplay, I might even dress up as this government agent you seem to love writing about.” He says with a soft smile before he slowly and carefully pulls out of your now oversensitive pussy and discards the condom on the bin beside your shared bed.

“now that would be a treat.” You say before you move over and nuzzle into his side, your head resting on his chest as his hand is softly running down your back. “I love you.” You say to Leon as you looked at the matching black bands on your fingers, the sight of them still brings a smile to your face.

“I love you too sweetheart, did you want to shower or cuddle.” Leon asks as he kisses the top of your head. “a shower can wait.” You said closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth and feeling of Leon’s body next to yours. “okay honey.” Leon says pulling you closer to his body as you both just enjoyed the company of each other…

------

Bonus Head Canons for Writer!Fem!Reader.

Leon will take you on his motorbike to bookstores for dates, you can pick as many books as you would like.

He will carry all of the book he purchased you not wanting you to strain yourself.

Leon will listen to you rant about your favourite fictional characters.

He likes it when you use his head as a pillow while you read your books, or cuddle together on the couch while you are writing, he just likes being close to you.

Yes he will recreate your favourite smut book scenes.

He is your number one fan of your books and comes to every signing when he can, if he isn't working.

He will talk about you at work and even recommend people your books.

Leon is the model for some of your book covers, but you kept his face hidden for privacy reasons.

He doesn’t get jealous when you have a new fictional husband from a new book you read.

If he can’t find you, he knows you’re in the in-home library he built you for valentines day. (!One-Shot Link Below!)

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berryzxx · 2 days

Text

To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part

Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate

Note: FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST be nice<3. also yes i will be reverting to fluff again. its my little cosy corner :) Also ty so so so much to @sarawritestories, literally an angel and helped me with this idea GO READ HER FICS BITCHES. @thelov3lybookworm, @fell-in-luvs @sweetorangeblossom @throneofsmut

@riddlesb1tch @milswrites TYSM for the help ily all. I'm never writing angst again <3

The dry, bland taste of the oats coated Azriel's tongue and he fought to swallow it down. A fight similar to his will to get out of bed every morning. Also similar to the fight of carrying on each day.

Mindlessly stirring his food which had now gotten cold he thought about what he would do for Star fall next week. Maybe he would get drunk so he wouldn't remember the night. Or maybe he would go up to the balcony to get the "best view" but in fact sulk in a corner because he didn't have a special someone to share the night with.

Pulling himself back to reality and berating himself for being ungrateful and forgetting about how much his family had done for him, Azriel watched one of his shadows depart and slowly move across the table until it had reached the open French doors. He tried calling it back but to no avail. Taking a deep breath Azriel continued eating, his shadows were always up to something. Maybe it was bringing back important information. Like maybe who his mate was.

His heart became heavy again at the thought. Still no mate. Azriel had seen so many things, lived through so much and sometimes he thought he deserved a mate. Sometimes when he wasn't so absorbed in self hate he thought to himself maybe he did deserve a mate like Rhys had Feyre or Cassian had Nesta. The thought left him as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head, he didn't deserve a mate. He would ruin her. He wasn't good enough. No where near good enough.

Scoffing at himself for even going down the path of thinking he out of all people could have a mate, he carried on eating his oats, finishing them in record time to get to training with the Valkyries and the priestesses.

***

"Isn't that your shadow?" Nesta asked pointing toward a lone shadow which was making it's way back in to the house, moving across the training ring floor and the edges of the walls before it disappeared completely. She was laying down on the mat, sweat dripping down her face. It had been an intense training session, Nesta having started to channel her anger into physical exercise resulted in Azriel having to hold the punching pads tighter than usual. He was happy for her. Glad she was better now and getting used to her fae body.

"It is" Azriel replied, his confusion increasing slightly. They were acting extremely strange. And the one that had left this morning still hadn't come back. Not to mention the shadows still with him were dancing around as if they were waiting for something. He shrugged it off. It was probably a new bakery or some drama from Velaris they had picked up on. Nosy pricks.

Nesta's silver eyes held concern, "Are you okay?" She bit her lip there was something like recognition in her eyes, as if she once held the same vacant stare that he did. "Are they usually like this?" Nesta questioned again, sitting up and trying to read his expression. He shook his head, flipping his water flask upside down to realise it was empty "They'll come back eventually"

She stood up and brushed her clothes down "You could get it checked. I heard Madja's working late today"

Azriel tried not to get angry. It wasn't as if she would know how it was basically impossible for any healer to ever help him.

"We'll see" He replied instead, already brushing the idea away. All he'd get was an afternoon wasted and a whole lot of poking at his back and wings. It wasn't that big of a deal. Well...that's what he hoped.

***

Flipping the dagger in his hand he began to sharpen the other side, making sure it was as sharp as possible so it would make a clean cut. He didn't need more blood on his hands. Well more than usual anyway. Looking to his right he saw Cassian stretching out his wings and yawning "I'm off to bed. Don't stay up past your bedtime" He grinned. Azriel shook his head a smile on his face even though the joke wasn't funny.

"I won't" Azriel lied. Cassian looked at him for longer than usual as if trying to figure something out. Of course he didn't. Azriel's secrets were too well hidden.

"I'm here if you ever need to talk" Cassian said resting a hand on his shoulder. Azriel gave him a rare smile and patted his hand "I know brother"

Leaving him to sit peacefully on the roof Azriel looked up at the sky. Automatically his eyes searched for the one star constellation he loved. Lyra it's name was. His mother had pointed it out to him when he was young. Said it was one of the constellations that would never leave him. Sometimes it felt like this constellation was the only stable thing in his life. Something that would never leave him and so far it was living up to it's reputation.

***

All fucking night his shadows had been restless, moving about and not letting him get one minute of sleep. Yes he ran on 4 hours of sleep perfectly fine but his shadows didn't even let him close his eyes for one minute without being irritating. Not to mention his shadows from previously hadn't come back. What the fuck was their problem?

Finally giving up he went down to the kitchen, drank a glass of water and stomped upstairs on to the balcony. His shadows were still making incessant noises and moving around too much for this early in the morning. Azriel walked over to the edge of the roof, standing on the edge and freefell down down down.

The air hit him at the perfect angle and gods did he wish he could keep falling. If he hadn't opened his wings at the right time he would have died but who really cared? It was just him after all.

He flew over Velaris, the sun barely visible resulting in a still and quieter city at this time. Not to mention it was Saturday, most of the fae probably nursing their hangovers right now. He veered left toward the Sidra, going past Feyre's bright and cosy artists corner, following his shadow at a leisurely pace as it stopped in front of what seemed to be a row of houses. They were bright and colourful, pale pinks and bright blue's, pleasing to look at. Settling on the roof of a house opposite them he watched the sun rise, his shadows finally calm. It felt like his heart was calm too.

A few minutes of sitting led to one of the rooftop doors opening and......and Azriel couldn't describe what and who stepped out.

She was a goddess.

She was the fulfilment of his dreams.

She was the most ethereal fae he had seen.

She was...gods words couldn't describe her never ending beauty. Moving toward her flowers towards the right of the roof she began to water them, her soft brown hair falling forward and covering her face slightly. His heart hurt. He didn't know why.

He could stare at her for an eternity. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her pink lips looked like they could say the sweetest words. Like they could soothe any pain he had from one whisper of her sweet voice. He swallowed.

He wanted to talk to her. Enjoy her company. Make her smile. Make her laugh. Watch as her eyes brightened because of him.

He could change. For her he could, he thought to himself as she stood up from watering the roses and looked at the sun rise too.

Her cheeks held a slight blush, hair dishevelled as though she had just gotten out of bed. Azriel was cataloguing each and every thing about her, storing it into his memory to cherish.

Clenching his fists and readying himself, memorising what he would say to this oh so gorgeous female he extended his wings.

Softly landing behind her, he felt like his tongue was twisted. Her hair fell in waves down her back, her arms wrapped around herself.

Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat. She whipped round and it felt like time stopped.

Her hand rested on her chest and her eyes were wide with surprise. Beautiful. That was all that went through his mind as he drank her in, looking at each and every perfect feature.

"Who are you?" His heart felt like it would burst from happiness. Her voice was music to his ears. She had straightened up slightly, her shocked expression gone as she patiently waited for Azriel to speak. He didn't want to. What if he messed it up?

"Azriel. Sorry I....I didn't mean to invade your privacy I-" He cleared his throat cursing under his breath for his stupid twisted tongue. Her lips turned up in a small smile as if she was encouraging him, waiting for him to finish. Like she actually cared for what he had to say.

"I just saw you watching the sunset- not that I was watching you...I meant I just saw you here-" A small laugh escaped her as she watched him struggle. He knew one thing. It was that his heart was no longer his. It was hers. His soul belonged to her. His broken and bloody soul was hers however much it had gone through.

Falling in love was impossible he used to think but looking at her now, he thought it possible.

He was so busy in trying to memorise her face he didn't realise his shadows from earlier swirling around her wrists and waist as if they had found their home.

"It's alright. Lets watch the sunset together, the view's gorgeous from here" Her soft voice beckoned him closer and as she turned back around her arm knocked one of the vases. She turned around trying to grab it and in that split second, she fell.

Over the roof and down to where Azriel couldn't see her.

His heart raced as he ran to the edge and jumped down onto the concrete floor, using his wings to slow his descent.

He had heard the sickening thud when she had fallen but he refused to believe it.

He watched as her lifeless body lay there.

Still.

The life in her completely gone. Silence rang in his ears, his throat closed up, he wanted to rip out his heart. Why?

Why?

Why was all he could think about it as he looked at her broken form. Blood pooled from her head, a puddle of deep red gathering around her hair. His shadows swarming around her, frantically trying to do something.

Maybe if he weren't so useless. Maybe if he had any dignity or shame he wouldn't have stared on and could have helped her. It felt like his voice was lost.

He looked at her dead eyes and when he did it snapped. The golden thread sparkling between the two of them, connecting them, before dying out again. The moment of completeness vanished in a split second.

Mate.

She was his mate.

He let out a tortured scream, his own voice ringing in his ears. His legs weakened as he dropped to the ground next to her, his energy depleted.

Tears slipped down his face and for the first time he didn't wipe them away. Didn't berate himself for crying because this....this was a tragedy everyone should have cried over. But instead it was only him watching her once smiling face lay face down on the concrete.

Why was it him? He hadn't even gotten to see her smile properly because of him. Hadn't been able to hear her speak completely. Hadn't heard the sweet words she was sure to voice if he ever got the chance to get to know her.

His eyes wouldn't leave her body as he choked out sobs, eyes blurry and wanting to look away from her limp body at the same time. His....His mate.

The word left him feeling empty. All he wanted was right in front of him except she was gone. She was dead and it was because of him.

His hands shook, his control slipping away as time passed, slowly reaching for her. He gently touched her hair ever so softly as if maybe she were sleeping and she would wake up. Slowly moving it to the side, he could finally see her beautiful beautiful face. A face which had been removed of all colour and life.

A strangled sound escaped him as he looked on unable to tear his eyes away. His heart fractured into so many pieces he didn't know what he'd do anymore. How could he live without her? Life wasn't worth living without her.

His mate.

Tears made his vision blurry as he tried to memorise her perfect features. She was a poem he would never be able to memorise. She was the dream he was always so far from reaching. She was his except she wasn't. Not anymore. Because she was gone.

He wished he could take her place. Wished he had died after seeing his mate. He would have died happy. Finally would know what true happiness was before dying.

Any alternate way of living his heart didn't know how to. Without her in his life he couldn't search for any reason for continuing on.

Gods he didn't even know her name. At the thought of this his lips pressed together trying to stop the heart wrenching scream he wanted to release. He didn't even know her damn name.

His mate.

His mate who was lying dead in front of him. Looking down at his hands he saw they were shaking, so was his body. He didn't deserve to live. This perfect female in front of him wasn't able to live her life so why should he, a broken and unlovable torturer?

The glint of his dagger beckoned to him. It would be oh so easy to end things now. Stab himself through the heart and lay down, lifeless just like his mate. At least they would die together. Taking out his dagger he looked at. Really looked at it.

The fates had known.

This was why he had sharpened his dagger. For this exact reason.

If his mate didn't deserve to live neither did he. He lifted the dagger, tears streaming down his face, his heart broken in too many places to fix, no one left for him in this world. Looking at his mates face for the last time he pushed the dagger straight into his heart.

Fitting ending he supposed. After all the killing he had done, he had ended his own life. Blood seeped from the stab wound but he didn't care. He tried to touch her face one last time, extending his hand, but he couldn't. Because he had collapsed onto the cold floor next to her, unable to touch her for the first and last time.

He was damned. His fate was unlucky.

He was a bastard who didn't deserve anything.

Without even realising his shadows had left him too.

"LYRA" A heart wrenching scream echoed in his ears as the blood emptied out his body. That was his mate's name.

Lyra

If he were still alive he would have smiled and cried at the irony of it all but he wasn't. His eyes now stared straight up as his heart no longer pumped blood.

A fae walking past would see it as a tragedy but it was more than that. It was a man who would never get a happily ever after no matter how much he wished for it. It would be a story passed down to generations. A story with no happy ending.

***

If only Azriel had known that he was in fact loved. That he did have people that held him close to their heart

If only he had known.

Rhys who was waiting in his meeting room for their debrief.

Cassian who had set up a game of chess for him and Azriel to play.

Nesta who thought up new techniques for fighting that she would show him the next morning.

Feyre who was painting his portrait in her art studio.

Nyx who was waiting for his favourite uncle to come home so they could fly together.

Little did they know Azriel would never come home again.

....first and last time writing angst :) if u can even call it that

->Masterlist <-

tagging: @hijabi-desi-bookworm @lilah-asteria @fxckmiup @minnieoo

@kennedy-brooke @daycourtofficial

#berrywrites #azriel angst #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x reader angst #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #acotar series #azriel fanart #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadow singer x y/n #azriel spymaster #acosf #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acotar x reader

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suskz · 2 days

Note

Saw jockchan x nerd reader. I was wondering if you could write something about swim captain Chan x quiet female reader ?

pairing: SwimCaptain!Chan x Quiet!fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; semi-public sex ; secret relationship ; oral (f!rec) ; jealousy ; exhibitionism kink (but no exhibitionism) ; unprotected sex (be smarter, don’t do that).

w/c: around 1,8k

a/n: It’s 1:45 a.m. here, I’m going to sleep now. Hope you like it! ♡

18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

There are 25 minutes left until the end of the training session when you arrive.

"Come see me at training today, it will bring me luck for tomorrow’s championship." This was his sweet request this afternoon, and you naturally said yes; it's just a pity that you arrived an hour late.

Your quick steps to take a seat in the stands can’t be heard by the guys as they talk near the pool, but Chan notices you the moment you enter.

His head turns in your direction and he smiles at you, waving a hand at you. You do the same, returning the greeting.

Immediately, his eyes shift to Changbin and Jisung though, members of the team, who seem to be arguing, and he approaches them.

It doesn’t take you long to understand that they were arguing about who is the fastest swimmer of the two, as shortly after they are giving each other challenging looks as they get into position and enter the water when Chan gives them the signal.

You like seeing him in leader mode in moments like this. It’s extremely hot, but also really cute when he turns in your direction to look at you, shaking his head in exasperation, making you giggle.

But your attention shifts a little further away from you when you hear a girl speaking.

"Did you see him? Now you can’t say he isn’t gorgeous." One of the two girls says to the other.

“He’s freaking perfect, oh my God,” the other girl comments. “What did you say his name was?”

“Bang Chan; I’ll give you his Instagram.”

Your teeth clench at the last sentence. Are they talking about Chan? Your Chan?

The same Chan who kisses, fucks, and cuddles you every day?

You briefly consider letting them know. You should turn to them and tell them to their faces, but there’s something holding you back, keeping you still. And this thing prohibits you from letting them know how things really are, so you sit there in silence, enduring their annoying compliments about him for what feels like endless minutes.

Yes, his body and muscles are stunning. Yes, his voice is sensual and his laugh is sweet. Yes, he has an irresistible gaze. Do they really need to keep repeating that?

When the training ends and you think you’ve finally gotten rid of them, they’re in front of him before you can make a move.

You watch them from afar, standing and waiting, trying to appear as normal and indifferent as possible while they congratulate the captain for his hard work as a leader. Ah, and also for his hard work in the gym.

He chuckles with his dimples showing, first shaking his hands in front of himself in a gesture of denial, but ending up scratching the back of his neck as he thanks them cordially. The two girls look at each other and giggle.

But a few minutes later, it’s you who finds yourself in the locker room with him, his hands on your hips and his lips on yours, feverish and needy.

“Were you jealous?” He grins teasingly, but deep down he feels immense tenderness and perhaps a little embarrassment knowing that you love him so much that you can’t stand other girls complimenting him in that way.

You don’t respond, looking at his bare chest and hoping he’ll stop.

His smile grows, “I saw how you were looking at them, your eyes were burning flames.” He stifles a chuckle as you raise your head with a guilty expression.

“Was I that obvious?” You ask, your cheeks starting to blush, embarrassed by your exaggerated reaction.

“Yes, but I like it.” He leans in to kiss you again, but soon his hands slip under your shirt and you break the kiss.

“Chan, we can’t do this here.” you whisper against his lips. All the other guys from the team are just meters away, taking a shower. You risk being heard, and you don’t want that to happen.

“But I need you now.” he whispers on your neck, starting to leave warm, wet kisses.

You don’t respond, but you tilt your head to give him more space and don’t stop him, and he takes this action as agreement.

He licks and sucks on a patch of your skin, leaving a red mark that will be prominently displayed for days. He might get completely hard just at the thought of you walking around with the mark of his presence on your body, even if others don’t know whose it is.

He pulls away and admires it, then gives it one final kiss, making you hiss from the slight pain.

Needy, his hand grabs yours and pulls you into the bathroom. You don’t resist; you follow him, silent, and together you enter one of the showers, closing the curtain. The one in the corner, with an empty shower next to it.

And then, Chan turns on the water, wetting both of you, although not completely.

“Chan, you finally came in, why did it take you so long?” Changbin yells from a few showers away.

“I just had a moment with Y/n.” Chan responds casually, as if he weren’t currently lowering your shorts and underwear at the same time.

“Oh, she’s already gone?” This time it’s Jisung’s voice.

“Yeah, she went back to the dorm.”

There’s something, something that arouses both of you at the idea that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing while his friends are there, just meters away from you, unaware.

His fingers move skilfully between your folds, rubbing your clit with one finger quickly while two of his other fingers hold your pussy lips open as your hips move back and forth instinctively.

When his fingers enter your cunt, they do so easily from how wet you are and from all the times his cock has been inside you.

You take his face in your hands to bring your lips closer to his ear so you can talk to him, “We don’t have time, put it in already.” You whisper, and his cock twitches in the tight shorts he’s wearing, reminding him of how damn tight they feel.

He withdraws his fingers and turns you around, replacing them with his dick, entering you slowly to allow you to more easily suppress any sounds that could be heard by the others.

His hands hold the lower parts of your cheeks to spread them apart to get in deeper as he moves inside you. It’s not the best position, but you can’t bend over because you’d risk slipping.

Your moans are silent. Your heavy breaths are fortunately hard to hear with the shower water running and their voices humming.

Chan tries not to fuck you too hard to avoid the sound of your skins slapping together. Because you’re not alone, and no one must hear you. Even though, maybe, he actually wants someone to hear you. He wants someone to find out about the dirty things you’re doing without their knowledge, right there near them. Maybe he secretly wishes someone would open the shower curtain and see you in this situation.

And maybe you want it too.

But these thoughts don’t stop both of you from freezing at the sudden sound of Hyunjin’s voice. “Does anyone have shower gel?”

His movements pause only for a moment. He should feel embarrassed, mortified to hear his friend’s voice so close to you in such a situation, but instead, it sends a jolt of pleasure to his cock, and he immediately starts moving again.

You look at him with an expression now fearful, but this arouses you as much as it does him.

Jeongin’s voice is quick to respond, “I do, here it is.”

“Thanks Jeonginnie, love you.” Hyunjin thanks him in his sweet voice.

Chan pulls out of you, but before you have time to say anything, he turns you around, grabs your thighs from behind, and lifts you, pushing you against the wall. His arms slide under your knees and spread you open, re-entering you.

“That’s better.” he whispers against your lips, and you nod in agreement with quick breaths.

The pleasure intensifies for both of you. A soft moan escapes his lips, not being able to hold it back, causing him to bite his lower lip and hide his face on your shoulder, his ears turning redder as he failed to contain his pleasure.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling strands, causing his hips to buck up in a harder thrust, making your head slide back against the shower tiles.

It’s at this moment that the others start coming out of the showers, and soon they are out of the locker room after greeting Chan and telling him to hurry up.

When everyone is out, you both look at each other, then chuckle.

“I couldn’t hold back anymore.” you admit.

“Me neither.” he says.

“I noticed.” you tease, and he looks at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows in an offended look.

You clench around him on purpose, eliciting a needy moan from his lips. In response, he thrusts into you, and this time it’s you who whines.

“You’re as needy as I am.” he grins, resuming his movements. This time you’re a bit freer to let out your voice, but you need to hurry. His thrusts are faster now, reaching deeper spots inside you, being able to fuck you harder, eliciting a series of staccato moans from you.

“Touch yourself.” he orders and you immediately obey, without needing to be told twice.

His movements become more erratic. He’s close, and you can tell by the way his cock twitches inside you and releases small droplets of pre-cum.

His moans grow deeper, and he closes his eyes, trying to hold back from coming with all the self-control he has to make you reach your climax too, with him. But it’s difficult for him, and soon he has you back on your feet, giving a few final thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking his cock quickly through his orgasm.

He tries not to throw his head back in pleasure, wanting to see the ropes of his hot cum covering your pussy and thighs as you stand there with trembling legs.

Your mind is still fogged with pleasure, and you don’t notice what’s happening until you feel his tongue on your clit, which makes you let out a whimper. You look down to see your boyfriend on his knees with his head between your legs, looking up at you.

You run your fingers through his hair, and he pulls away, “You need to come quickly, someone will be coming for spot checks soon.” He warns you before returning with his tongue between your folds and two fingers inside you, stroking at your sensitive spot.

#bang chan #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader smut #bang chan hard hours #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader smut #bang chan hard thoughts #anon ask ♡

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writeroutoftime · 16 hours

Text

true love's kiss

pairing: azriel x reader

summary: when azriel is hit with a powerful poison what - or who - will be able to save him?

warnings: talks of death, angst

words: 2.8k (buckle up)

a/n: my first azriel story and I'm so excited!! this idea just popped in my head the other day, and I ran with it lol. it was so much fun to write, so I hope you have just as much fun reading it!

(p.s. requests are open if you'd like to send anything in!)

oOoOo

Without warning, your heart began to pump furiously and an uneasy feeling settled over your body. Your muscles tensed up, as if preparing for an attack, and only moments later, you noticed Feyre's glazed over eyes widened in fear. Lunch suddenly postponed, she shot to her feet and ran towards the living room while you, Mor, and Amren quickly trailed behind.

Before you even stepped foot in the room, your suspicions were confirmed as the scent of blood and fear smacked you in the face. There was a brief space of time in which you mourned for the anguish Feyre would feel over an injured Rhys. However, the image of Rhys and Cass heaving an unconscious Azriel onto the couch suddenly seared itself into your mind.

"What happened?" you whispered the words over the commotion, though it rang out loud and clear to the Inner Circle despite its wobble.

"We were ambushed in Windhaven." Cass explained while Rhys reached into the void to call for Madja. "Az's side was struck with a sword, but it must have been laced with poison. One second he was standing behind me, and the next thing I knew, he let out a shout before collapsing almost immediately."

Tears lined your eyes at the thought, and the pain didn't register when you dropped to the ground beside Azirel, hands hovering over his body. The dark swirl of shadows that nearly obscured him from view parted for you, allowing you access to their master.

"Oh, Azriel." you breathed out, only distinguishable to you and his shadows. The later wisping gently around your face, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. You leaned into the gesture, wishing it was Azriel's palm against your skin.

Suddenly, you felt strong arms pull your shoulders away from Azriel as Madja stepped in and took your place, her gaze instantly drawn to his wound. Meanwhile, your family stepped back in fear. Rhys held Feyre tight in his grasp, and Cassian offered you and Mor each a comforting hand.

The only sounds for the next few minutes were Madja's grunts and huffs as she did her best to treat the injury. You couldn't help but cringe into Cass' side as her hands turned a dark-red, tinted from the blood that should have long ago clotted. It felt like an eternity before the healer turned around to face all of you, her face worn.

"I've done what I can to stabilize him, but the sword that struck our Shadowsinger was indeed laced with a poison I have yet to see. Unfortunately, it still seems to be working his way through his system. I can't say for certain how much time he has, but I will work swiftly to find an answer." she explained solemnly, taking in the pained expressions of you and your friends. "All I do know is whatever the cure ends up being, it needs to be a strong source of magic. I'm sorry I can't offer better news."

Rhys was the first to break through the stunned silence. "Thank you, Madja. C-can we move him somewhere more comfortable?"

The healer nodded before taking her leave. In her stead, all of you gaped in shock before Rhys and Cass worked together to move Azriel to a bed where they thought he would be more comfortable. Once they got him settled, you pulled a chair up, next to his bed, a stack of thick, dusty books beside you. If there was nothing you could do at the moment, by the cauldron you would at least help Madja research a cure.

When your focus couldn't get past the first few sentences on a page, you shut the book with a sigh and furiously wiped at your eyes. The tears wouldn't stop, no matter what you did. Carefully, you reached out and interlaced your hand with one of Azriel's, placing a soft kiss against the marred skin.

"Please, please wake up, Azriel." you whispered into the room. "I don't know what we'd do - what I'd do - without you." you told him, praying to the Mother and anyone else listening to heal your best friend.

As day bled into night, Rhys and Cass came into the room, trying to relieve you even just for an hour. They tempted you with food, rest, or even just a moment alone, but you refused. How could you leave Azriel alone in his moment of need? Eventually they got the hint, and slowly, the rest of your family began to take up residence in the room alongside you.

oOoOo

"How can there be nothing on this subject?" you shouted, tossing the book to the floor with a loud thump.

The rest of the Night Court looked up at your outburst, their own eyes red and bleary from the hours and hours of research. It had been three days since Madja first examined Azriel, and even the experienced healer was coming up empty. With every hour that passed, you felt the hope in your soul drain even further.

"There has to be an answer somewhere." Cass placated, stretching out his wings from where he sat. "Someone has to have used this poison before."

"That doesn't mean they had to write the antidote down, boy." Amren spoke cooly from her spot, ignoring your pointed glare.

"What is it, Feyre?" Rhys asked, taking note of her trance like state. She shook her head slightly at her mate before turning her attention to the rest of the group.

"Well...I was just thinking. Madja said whatever the cure ends up being will have to be powerful, but maybe we've been thinking about this too literally. Maybe it's not an answer that can be found in a book. What has been a powerful motivator for all of us over the years? Was even the answer to end Amarantha's reign?" she asked, the group shuddered at the mention of the name of that devil. "Love."

You stared at your High Lady, head titled to the side. "Okay, but how is that going to help us now? It's not like any of us don't love Azriel."

"And it's not exactly a position we can give him." Mor chimed in.

Feyre reached out a tattooed hand and grasped Rhys' hand. "Or maybe it is." she countered. "I don't know about here in the Night Court, but haven't you ever heard fairytales? True love conquering all with a kiss, and all that?"

"Do you think it would really work?" you ask, your tone warm and face full of light for the first time in days.

All eyes fell to Rhys and Ameren for guidance. The two shared a look, silently communicating their opinions on the matter, but it was Rhys who spoke first. "I've never heard of an instance of true love's kiss being the answer, but since when have we been known to do anything traditionally?" he said with a small grin, inspiring a soft chuckle in the room.

"Well," Cass dragged out. "I would try, but I don't think Az would appreciate me waking him up with a kiss."

You rolled your eyes at the general, before considering the impact of his words. "Doesn't that leave us with a problem? Azriel hasn't found his mate, so we're still stuck and unable to break though." A small pang shot through you at the idea of Azriel's mated to an unknown female, but you quickly tamped that down. This was a matter of life or death.

All eyes of the Inner Circle turned to face you. Looks of disbelief, amusement, and even understanding from Rhys, came your way. You caved in on yourself, suddenly feeling your cheeks heat under the scrutiny. This was not the time for their games.

"What?"

Mor spoke your name, gently, as her hand reached out to grasp yours. "Do we really need to spell it out?" she asked in your silence.

"Spell what out?"

Amren, having had enough of the tiptoeing, finally spat it out. "That you're in love with the Shadowsinger, and have been for decades. If anyone in this room has the power to break this curse, it's you."

A laugh bubbled up and out of your throat at her words, born out of sheer nerves that shot through your body. "N-no, no. I am not in love with Azriel. I mean, yes, I care for him - of course I do! I love him the way I love all of you. I'd do anything to help, but I really don't think this is going to work." you stuttered and stumbled over your words, bashful from the accusation.

"We've all seen the way you look at each other, y/n." Feyre spoke gently, her eyes soft and she stared at you. "I think you love Azriel a bit differently than the rest of us."

Her words brought tears to your eyes. Yes, you were in love with your best friend - how cliche. It had been that way for decades, but you never had the courage to speak up and say anything to him. And now, all these feelings were being dredged up in such a tense situation. What if it wasn't enough? What if you weren't enough to save him?

"Okay, fine, you've caught me." you conceded, throwing your hands up in the air as your voice grew thick and heavy once more. "Is that what you want me to say? That I've been in love with Azriel for years, and it's killed me to just stay by his side as just a friend?" a defensive anger rose in your body as you looked at each member of your family. "But you're forgetting an important piece to this puzzle. Just because I'm in love with Azriel, doesn't mean I'm his true love."

With that, you ran out of the room, collapsing against the wall in the hallway. You tried to take deep, steady breaths to calm your breathing, but it did little to help the situation. A few minutes later, you heard soft footsteps come up to your side, and Mor pulled you into a giant hug. The two of you stayed in silence for a few moments, grateful for the anchor she acted as in the moment.

"I know that was a lot to throw on you, and for you to have to admit to us." she spoke, softly and cautiously. "And nobody judges you for how you feel or how you're reacting."

"I'm so scared." you confessed. "W-what if I try and it doesn't work?"

Mor looks at you with a gentle smile. "What if you try and it does work?" she countered. "I think you underestimate the extent of Azriel's feelings for you. And, if, Mother forbid, it doesn't work, then we'll figure something else out."

Her words gave you a sense of comfort and the courage to wipe your tears and walk back towards Az's room. Before you stepped back in, you gave Mor's hand a grateful squeeze then rolled your shoulders back.

All talking ceased as you walked back in, and you knew your family had to have been discussing what to do if you didn't agree with their plan. But this was Azriel's life on the line, and you would do anything to protect it. Even if that meant having your feelings revealed, or rejected.

"Okay, let's try this." you told the Inner Circle, calmly and with conviction you tried to convince yourself you had. "But, all of you are waiting outside."

There were no laughs or jokes at your expense, which surprised you, especially coming from Cassian. Instead, they all nodded their heads and solemnly and filed outside to wait. On his way out, Cassian squeezed your shoulder and nodded.

"Bring him back to us." he whispered, board line pleading with you to save his brother's life.

When it was just you and Azriel alone in the room, you took a deep breath and crossed the space until you knelt before his bed. You took the moment to study his features. His hazel eyes, normally full of life and mischief, now were shut off from you. His skin looked more swallow and the rise and fall of his chest seemed to slow with each breath that passed. Even the presence of his shadows seemed dimmer as Azriel's life slowly drained before your eyes.

With a shaky hand, you reached out to brush away soft tendrils of hair that had fallen into Azriel's face. "Can you hear me, Az?"

The air was heavy as you waited a response that never came.

"We all miss you so much. I miss you - my best friend. I-I know it's not fair of me to ask, but just keep holding on, keep fighting. Please." you whispered, leaning down to rest your forehead against his body, gathering your courage. "Look, Feyre has this crazy theory about what could save you. It's uh, true love's kiss."

Again, no response.

"This was not the way I expected to tell you, not that I thought I'd tell you if I'm being honest. But even though I don't want to jeopardize our friendship, I'd rather have you alive and never speak to me again than gone forever. So, here it goes." you took a deep breath. "I love you Azriel, I think I always have. You are so good and kind, and the kind of male I've dreamed about for years. I-it's okay if you don't feel the same," you forced yourself to say. "but I thought you should know given our situation."

Not sure what else to say, you took one more look at the male in front of you, placed a gentle kiss against his cheek, and then dipped your head down to meet his lips. They were chapped against your own after a few days without enough water. Az's normal smell of cedar and mist was faint, but still there, and comforted you as it surrounded your senses.

You poured as much love and hope into the kiss as possible before slowly pulling away, falling to sit on your legs. The next few seconds that passed seemed to stretch for hours, waiting for a sign, a movement, anything. Just as you were about to sag and give up hope, a loud gasp sounded next to you and Azriel's frame jolted up.

"Azriel!" you shouted, watching as the color returned to his face and his eyes darted around the room.

Those hazel eyes finally landed on your frame, and Azriel quirked a small, albeit, sleepy smile at you. "y/n." he whispered, holding out a hand.

Wasting no time, you grasped onto the anchor for dear life, and the tears immediately began to pour down your face. "I can't believe you're awake. Oh, I was so scared for you Azriel. How are you feeling? Are you in pain? We have to get Madja and the other's here. I'll go-" you rambled, before being cutting off my Azriel.

"Hey, hey, calm down." he soothed, pulling you up onto the bed, flush against him. "I feel fine, considering I was just on the brink of death." he chuckled.

"Don't make jokes like that." you swatted at his chest. "We almost lost you."

"Yeah, but you saved me." he said, looking down at you in awe.

Suddenly bashful again, you began to stutter. "Oh, no, I didn't do much. It was all Feyre's idea, and we all were here helping to research."

"But Rhys and Cass weren't the one's to bring me back with a kiss." he said, and you felt as though your entire body was on fire at Azriel's words.

"Y-you heard all that?"

"I did." he nodded, nuzzling his nose against your neck. "And, I can't believe it took us until now to say anything, but I love you, y/n." he admitted, turning your face so you stared into his eyes.

As the words left Azriel's lips, both of your gasped. This time, however, it wasn't because of a sleeping curse, but because of the taught, golden thread you felt connecting your soul to Azriel's. Your mind swirled with a thousand thoughts, but the loudest one was "mate, mate, mate."

You stared at the male before you in awe, and Azriel grinned. "My mate. My knight in shining armor." he teased, then leaned down to capture your lips once more.

This time, the kiss sent butterflies to your stomach and you revealed in the feeling of Azriel's strong arms around your body. His kiss was long and unhurried, as though you had all the time in the world to explore. And as you kissed him back, you found yourself giddy at the thought of the rest of your immortal life with Azriel.

It was only when the doors had been thrown open and the rest of your family came stumbling in did you and Azriel pull apart. The two of you looked at each other, then busted out laughing at the shocked faces of your family.

"It worked!"

"You're awake."

"The two of you are mates?!"

Their voices all overlapped, and you felt Az sigh against you, hugging you close. Yes, your family was a lot, but they meant well. And now, you could live happily ever after.

oOoOo

a/n: ahh, I'm pretty impressed by how quickly this went from an idea to a story! kinda feel like I rushed the end, but oh well! hope you enjoyed!

#azriel x reader #azriel imagine #acotar azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #rita writes

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