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whore-ibly-hot · 5 months

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"A Servant and His King."

Yandere!Fae-King x Fae!servant x. Fem! Reader

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, perverted thoughts, obsession, coercion, fae related hijinks, basically monster fucking, oral (fem receiving), loss of virginity, clit play, p-in-v sex, power dynamics.

(A/N): Part two to a non-smutnfic about Puck, based off of puck from 'Midsummer Nights Dream'. Can be read with or standalone.

Part one (not required to understand)

A brief gust of wind and leaves rattles the shutters of your small cottages window, not sounding out of place when mixed with the usual sounds of the forest. However, the gust turns softer as it gently brushes against the shutters, causing them to open slowly with a creak.

A pair of feet land nimbly upon the wooden dresser across the room from your bed, a shadowy figure squatting down with a grin. The figure hops down, making its way to your bed, where you sleeping form lies blissfully unaware of the intruder.

Groaning, you are soon roused from your slumber by a light pressure on your wrist, and your eyes flutter open. You gasp, seeing the being before you and trying to pull away. "

"W-who are you! Stay awa-" a finger is pressed softly to your lips, the figures face coming into view as the lean forward. Forest green eyes and a set of familiar pearly whites greet you.

"Shh! No need to fear, only Puck is here." He coos, kissing your wrist once more, pressing the soft flesh to his lips. "Sorry to frighten you, little mortal. I would never mean to upset you, but I couldn't very waltz in through the entrance to your humble abode, especially given your mother's feelings about my kind." He lays his lithe body across yours, head on your chest as he looks at you with glee.

"Why are you here, Puck? It's late, I must rest." You say, though you don't resist the fae boys touching. "Sleep is important for humans."

He scoffs. "I know, but I have something more important than your human need for sleep. My king, Oberon, leader of the seelie court wishes to meet you." He pulls you up by your shoulders, a hand fixing your nightgown which begins to slip from your shoulder.

"T-the king?" You're just a human woman, a peasant. You've never even met a human noble, much less a faery king. "Why? Puck, I'm not, I can't! Now? I'm not dressed properly, I'm a human, I-"

Once again, a finger is placed against your lips. Invading your space as per usual, Pucks forehead is pressed against your forehead, nose to nose. "Shush, little mortal. Please, the king loves me. I am his jester-servant, his beloved Puck! We've shared many a-" he chuckles. "Amourous night together. He knows if your good enough for me, then your good enough to meet him. Don't discredit yourself, you are so much more than some mortal maid I take in the woods for a night of passion." He makes her sit up, and tries to slip her out of the bed. "He'll love you, my sweet. It's only proper I introduce my new beloved friend to my closest companion, ruler, and my king." You allow him to pull you out of your bed, and into his lanky form.

"Mmph, Puck. I can walk." You groan, trying to wriggle from his grasp. He tsks with his tongue, and shakes his head.

"No, no, no. Don't whine, don't go away. Be good. It's a long stroll all the way to the spring we're going to, just relax." He cackles. "You humans are so indecisive. Just a moment ago you were whining, 'Puck, no. It's too late, I'm a human, I need my sleep.', now you won't let me carry your frail, tired self to see the king. Make up your mind."

You roll your eyes, but suppose he has a point, and allow yourself to melt into his warm embrace, shoulders flush against his pecs.

As he slips back through the window and dances through the glen, weaving through trees and brush like a gust of cool night air, he soon arrives upon a clearing. Smooth rock reflect moonlight, as the water resting atop them comes from the babbling freshwater spring that rests at the edge of the rocks. A figure, imposing and much more muscular than Puck's is sat on one of the rocks, admiring the water.

Puck gently sets you down with nimble hands, kissing your ear lightly. This causes you to squeak and push him off.

"Stop it, Puck! I-im about to meet a king and your acting like we're lovers! Like your an enamored schoolboy!" You exclaim, and his hands only wrap around your waist from behind, playing with the cloth there.

"And here I thought we were lovers..." He feigns a sad face and a pout, before jolting forward and taking you with him by the waist. "My king!" He yells.

The imposing figure looks over, causing you to freeze, mind not really in synch with body as Puck drags you forward. The king is truly a thing of beauty, rugged and piercing as if he were carved, not from stone, but from the wood that made up the forest which he called his domain. He wears a fur pelt around his waist, covering his only upper thigh and not leaving much to the imagination. His is decidedly hairy, and though beautiful is as rugged as a human man of the woods is expected to be. He has dark curls of hair not unsimilar to Puck's, but not as long. His eyes are a deep brown.

"Ah, Puck, my fair servant friend. I was almost afraid you had planned to trick me, having not shown yet." The king muses, legs spread casually and a hand resting against his chin.

Puck gasps, hand to his chest as if hurt. "Never, my liege. Well, at least not to you." Puck coos, sitting on the rock and curling up to the man's calve. The king runs his hands through the curls of the fae man, and you are taken aback by the sensuality of their interaction.

The king looks up. "And you, little mortal, must be my Pucks new favorite thing, hmm?" He asks, head tilted. You nod nervously as the man waves you closer. You bow, and he grins. "Good, good. I assume she knows who I am then? I am King Oberon, of this enchanted woods and over all of the seelie court. Though, my servant here told me you knew little to nothing of our people when asked you about us, so I doubt you'd know what the seelie court is."

You shake your head. "No, sir. All I know-" you glance at Puck, who is practically purring at his kings touch. "All I know is what Puck has told me. That you are powerful, and to be respected."

Oberon grins at this. "That is all you need know. Come here, allow a king to gaze upon you." His hands begin to wander, cupping your face. His large fingers prod your plump lips, your cheeks, and tilts your chin downwards to look at him from where he is sat. Then, the hand is on your shoulder, playing with the straps of your upper garment, then at your chest. This sudden touch in such an intimate place causes you to jolt back. Oberon raises a brow.

"I'm sorry, sir. That is, that is just a very intimate place for humans. It's for sensual matters, when between two adults." You try to explain. Puck sighs, leaning his head on Oberons knee while the king chuckles.

"I am aware. It is intimate and sensual for fae too. That is why you were being touched there." He says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Now, you are only more confused.

"Well, intimacy of those matters between humans happens between a-a married couple, and even then, it should not be openly discussed. A woman like myself couldn't, shouldn't ever bee with a stranger like that, not even a suitor before marriage!"

"I have heard humans are... less indulgent in the passions of life than fae. All those awful, boring rules. And yet you kill your leaders and revolt because your miserable? Perhaps. Eing unable to express those urges is why." He laughs, and Puck joins in. He sense your confusion and continues. "Fae do not believing in brief enjoyment and indulgence. We live life to the fullest. Our liquor is stronger yet we drink more, our food is richer, yet we all eat like kings. And most of all, we indulge in the passions of the flesh with each other more than your little mind could take. I think if you had the opportunity, you'd see it was the best way to live." He muses.

To your suprise, he suddenly moves Puck up from his calve to his lap, holding the thin man by the waist as Puck grins wickedly. "You see, me and my servant here are close, emotionally and physically. We have enjoyed many a night of passion, without the watchful eye of my queen, of course." There is some bitterness in Oberon's tone at the mention of his queen.

"You... you indulge in passion with those, of the same gender as you, o-often?" You ask. It is not wrong, you are just so suprised and curious. You are not even supposed to think about a man pleasing a woman, let alone a man and another man. It is such a foreign idea.

"Mhmm. Being a king is hard for his majesty, and Puck... I, am happy to help him with his desires. My king cares for me, and I care for him." Puck says, before gasping and cutting off. You blush, seeing Oberons hand has slipped below Pucks leafy loincloth, hand stroking Puck manhood. He focuses only on the tip for now.

"I am suprised seeing as you are so shocked by how touchy and sensual fae are, seeing as you bedded my dear servant." Oberon says, and you immediately shake your head.

"No! I've never, me and Puck did nothing together. We drank a little, but he took me home." You exclaim, and look st Ouck for answers. He's too busy letting out soft whimpers and moans as Oberon moves his hand the full length of Pucks cock, paying attention to his bulbous tip.

"Is this true, Puck? I find it hard to believe, my servant can't keep his hands to himself. I suppose this makes you seem even more special to me, that my Puck would wish to see you again so desperately, and rave about you to me even if he had not bedded you yet. That begs the question though..." He leans in to Puck's ear. "Why did you lie to your king?"

Puck groans, brows furrowing. "M' sorry, your majesty! I knew you were so busy, and if I told you I had found a mortal capable of giving such incredible pleasure, you'd be more likely to come and see what a treasure I had found." He stammers. The king shakes his head, slowing his movements on Puck's cock.

"You know better than to lie to a king with a temper, Puck."

Puck cries out, bucking his hips and trying to chase that friction against his kings rough hands. "N-no sir! Trust me, I know if she'd just indulge, the mortal would be wonderful! She... she could be our mortal, not just mine! Please sir, I'll be good, she'll be good, don't stop." He begs.

Oberon sighs, still frowning in Pucks direction but intrigued nonetheless. "Alright, mortal girl. I yell you, if you would only let go, indulge just a bit in the pleasures of the fae, you would live a better life overall. And, should you please a king of the woods, perhaps your... what is it your mother does? Herbs? Perhaps they would see a better yield. An enchantment perhaps?" He offers.

You gulp, body hot with both arousal at the sight before you and anxiety. "I couldn't. What would the people in town think, I-I would be outcast!"

"Who would know? Even if someone were to find out, no one would believe a quiet gardeners daughter slept with a wicked spirit." The king teases, tongue poking out from between his lips slightly. He pulls you to him, and you offer no resistance. "For an untouched maiden, I assure you there is no one better to introduce you to a world of pleasure than the king, and his most loyal servant."

As he says this, the moaning Puck latches his lips onto your neck, continuing to moan as he sucks the soft flesh. You gasp.

"Oh, oh, gods." You squeak, the sensitive skin of your nape never having been touched, much less kissed in such a way.

"No gods, here, mortal. No angels or demons, only fae. Only the spirits of nature." He leans into your ear, kissing the shell. "Only your king."

Soon, a rough hand gets your skirt pooled around your knees, kneading the fat of your thigh and preparing to spread your legs and allow the fae king and his srmervant a view of the untouched treasure that lies there. You shiver as the cold air brushes across your stomach, you've never felt so exposed.

"See, highness? I told you, she's the perfect, pretty little mortal. Tease her, please? For me? I want to see her face as she experiences pleasure for the first time." Puck begs.

Oberon raises a brow and the request. "Such demands from a liar who has already been granted mercy, and is still being pleasure bu the hands of a king." He pulls his hand from Ouck's cock, causing tears to well in the edged faes eyes, having been denied his release.

"Majesty-"

"Enough. I will allow you to tease and prep the maiden, so she may except you king. Before you say anything, be grateful I don't only allow you to watch, or send you home." Puck whines, but grins a little inside. He knows the king enjoys his presence to much to remove him from this sensual scene.

Oberons large hands keep your shoulders flat against the warm stones of the spring, while Puck, still hard beneath his tented loincloth, crawls unceremoniously up between your thighs.

"What are you doing, Puck?" You whisper out softly, looking into his dazzling green eyes. He smiles warmly, pressing his cheek to one of your thighs.

"I assure you, maiden, my wicked tongue is not only good for japes and jabs." He coos. You are still confused at what he could mean, until the two thin fingers parting your folds are replaced with a hot, wet muscle. Puck licks a stripe teasingly up your center, savoring the flavour but eyes never leaving your face.

Oberon smiles down as he watches your face contort and wrinkle at the new sensation.

"Puck, y-your majesty, what is- oh, what is he doing?" You ask, trying to form a coherent sentence at the odd feeling of pressure and friction against both your clit and your entrance as Puck explores your folds.

"It's called cunnilingus, maiden. Fae have many ways to pleasure each other, but many enjoys the feel of one's mouth on their most intimate areas." He chuckles as he watches Puck tasting you curiously. "Sometimes, I find filling his mouth is the only way to quiet him." Puck giggles, and the vibrations make your legs quake.

Soon, the muscle invades your entrance, as Puck is now groaning almost as much as you. It's a gentle stretch, but both Ouck and Oberon know it will be necessary for what the king is to do later. Your aroused and needy clit is not forgotten by the fae pleasuring you, as a free hand comes to tweak it gently. The feeling is overwhelming, and soon, that knot inside you snaps, and you feel a high you've never known. It feels as though currents, waves run through your body as your maidenhood spasms around Pucks tongue.

He removes it, but continues to lap at your spent clit, tasting the juices of your climax. Oberon smiles.

"Was he good, maiden? Did you first touch by a man satisfy?" He asks. You can only weakly nod. "Ah, answer, maiden. Your being addressed by a royal."

"It was... it was very good, m-majesty." You gasp out. You look away at the sheer lewdness of the sight and Oberon crashes his lips to Pucks so that he may taste you on his servants lips.

"She was a divine nectar, my liege." Puck groans, pulling away from the kiss and now trading spots with his king. Now Puck lays by your shoulders, playing with your locks and kissing your neck and jawline while Oberon moves into place.

His chisled body places itself atop you, his sheer size dwarfing you and removing the moonlight from your body, casting a large shadow. You gulp.

"I... I've never done-" he chuckles, cutting you off.

"I'm aware, mortal. All that talk of purity led me to that conclusion. But, you won't be that innocent for long. I will be gentle, but it will hurt at first when you accept me into your sweet cunt. It's all part of the process."

You tense a little at the feeling of something hard, much more rigid than Pucks limp tongue, prodding at your entrance and folds.

"M' scared." You admit. This seems to soften the sensual yet cold king, and he sighs. Even Puck gives him a sad, wide eyes look. He leans down.

"Don't worry, mortal. I will be as gentle as any man has been with a woman. My Puck was never one to be nervous, but I have had lovers in the past who were. I will take care of you." He says.

Puck holds your hand and nuzzles his cheek to yours to provide a semblance of comfort. "It's true. The king is a fair and gentle lover when he wants to be. Don't worry, my friend." He assures.

Oberon strokes your thighs to relax soon, and soon the tip enters your weeping slit. You whine, the intrusion burns a little, especially as he adds a few inches every so often. But, he is slow, and talks you through it.

"Shh, it's alright. Your taking me so well, especially since I am endowed with more than some. Such a good mortal girl, it will feel good once you've stretched to accommodate a fae's cock." He coos.

As he begins to gently thrust, the slightly pain gives way to a burning pleasure. You whimper, his thrusts rocking your ads back against the stone of the spring. His large, curved tip is hitting the right spots, cervix getting pounded by the large man of the forest.

"O-oh, shit! Oberon, please- please, m-more! I need all, all of you in me!" You cry, and he chuckles.

"That's your womb speaking. This is your first time, you couldn't possibly accommodate all of me. But I will give you what I think, ugh, what I think you can take." He thursts become rhythmic, rolling in and out of your stretched tunnel, as Puck holds you steady and plays gently with your chest.

Oberon humps against you a few more times, moaning at Pucks encouragement. "She is so close, sire. I can tell, she's all tense and red, come on! Give it to her, let her take you. Please." It's clear Puck is still needy from not having gotten his release earlier. Still, he seems satisfied watching the king fuck his newest treasure.

"Mortal, mortal. You squeeze like a vice, such a warm, needy cunt. You needed this, to feel such pleasure, didn't you? Needed a cock to fill this cunt?" He moans. "It was fate, wasn't it, Puck? Finding this maiden, all alone. It was fate for you to be brought to us." Puck nods as his master continues.

"Your majesty, I'm gonna- its happening again." You cry, and his pace doesn't slow.

"I know, I know. I'm, fuck-" one last thrust sends the king over the edge. He groans, feeling your tunnel convulse around him as his thick white cum fills you. Puck plants quick, overwhelming kisses across your face as you climax, secretly wondering what you would look like if you bore the king's child.

Soon, Oberon pulls out, and you lay there, trembling and on the verge of sleep. Puck leans down and plants a final kiss upon your lips. He smiles.

"Sleep, little mortal. It's okay, you are safe with me and my king. I'll return you to your bed, pretty one." He strokes your hair softly, until your tired eyes close and stay closes. He sighs, and looks at the king. It's clear he could go for a fee more rounds.

"Majesty, our poor mortal needed this so badly, her body was on fire for it. We can't... we can't well let her go back to her little cottage, all alone in the dangerous wood with no one to please her. She's trusting, and she broke all the rules of interacting with fae so quickly, what if a worse one came along and-"

"Puck!" Oberon exclaims, making the imp jolt and go silent. Oberon sighs. "I am not a fool. I know how much this unique mortal has captivated the two of us. You need not convince me to take her back to my palace. As fair as Titania will be concerned, she is a plaything for you, correct? I will not have her cursing this treasure." Oberons muscular arms cradle your slumbering form.

"Majesty, I know of your endurance. Perhaps when we get back to the palace, while our maiden rests, I may please you." Puck asks, eyes wide and innocent.

Oberon scoffs. "All this acting because I didn't allow you to finish, Puck?" Oberon says, seeing through Pucks facade of goodwill and selflessness. Puck pouts.

"Isn't it tempting, though?"

"Perhaps."

#yandere #yandere oc #tw.yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere content #tw.dark content #x reader #yandere boy #yandere fae #yandere king #oc Puck #oc Oberon #tw.dubcon #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #oc x reader

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gglitch1dd · 14 days

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Oh how I loved him

Past Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Context: You reminisce about your time with Katsuki

Note: Reader is currently married to Dilf Izuku but was with Katsuki in the past. Kane is Katsuki's son who is living with the Midoriyas.

"Did you love my dad?"

You paused at your crotcheting as you looked up at Kane. The blond boy held the TV remote as he sat on the couch near you, Koda sitting on his lap. You blinked, surprised that he would ask such a question.

Kane quickly got pink in the face, his ears glowing, realising what he had just asked you. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ask that. I-"

"I did." Your answer silenced him as he turned to look at you, his crimson eyes, so much like Katsuki's, wide and innocent. Beautiful and passionate. You smiled gently as you set down your needles in your lap. You sighed. "Your father wasn't a bad person. Not at all. He was loud sometimes, petty as a donkey, grumpy at least half the time, always complaining about something, would never shut up about wanting to be number one but..." You leaned back in your husband's recliner as you smiled as you stared up at the ceiling, old memories about your ex-boyfriend flooding you. "Oh... how I loved Bakugou Katsuki."

"You... you did?" You turned to look at Kane who looked eager to know but was keeping himself seated for the sake of the little four year old green haired boy that napped in his lap.

You nodded your head. "He was a good boyfriend, a good man, despite how he seemed." You started. "And I've actually been meaning to show you something." You motioned for him to pass the TV remote, which he did. You easily caught it as you connected your phone to the TV and easily moved to your Cloud storage trying to find something. "Where is.... Ah! There it is." You tapped a photo.

On the screen was a picture of you much younger than you were now. A huge smile was on your face as you were dressed in Katsuki's large black skull t-shirt as he stood behind you shirtless. The both of you were a mess of flour but a huge smile that one couldn't have known possible, was on Katsuki's face. You caressed his cheek as you leaned against him.

"Your father has such a small heart, but when he gives it to you, its the warmest thing you'll ever feel in your life."

You lay on the bed, your phone facing down as you sat with a book in your hand. You heard the front door of your apartment open but you didn't bother to get up off the bed and go and see your boyfriend who had just arrived. You flipped the page as you tried to resubmerge yourself in the story.

With a heavy sound of his feet, Katsuki pushed open the door to see you sitting on your shared bed. The blond ProHero frowned as you didn't even look up at him. He held the strap of his work bag on his shoulder tighter as he settled his crimson eyes on you. "Y/N." His gruff voice came out.

"Hm?" You let out with a hum, only glancing up at him for less than a second before looking back down into your lap. "Hello Katsuki."

Katsuki's frown deepened. "Come on Y/N, I'm sorry." He apologised. "Is that what you want me to say?" You didn't answer him as you flipped the page of your book. Katsuki let out a frustrated groan as he moved to drop his bag inside his closet before walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Admittedly, Katsuki had had a bad day at work (and everyone in the DynaRiot agency could feel it). The reason for his bad day was because you were mad at him. Katsuki had spent another overnight shift when he had promised to spend time with you. By the time he had come back home at an unholy hour of the night, candles were burnt out, your favourite shared snacks were still on the coffee table and you were nowhere to be found but in bed, far away from Katsuki's side.

Katsuki admits, he had been so focused on chasing the Number One spot on the rankings, having just entered the Top ten with Deku, that he was putting time with you in the back burner. He would also admit that he had promised you multiple times this month to spend time with you but hadn't put in the effort.

You had every right to be mad at him.

Hell, Katsuki was mad at him.

Which was why he decided to try.

Katsuki wasn't sure half the time what he was supposed to do as a boyfriend, but he tried. Which is how he found himself in the kitchen setting things up and putting on an apron around himself. You hadn't move from outside the bedroom, no matter anything that Katsuki did, so now he was determined to try and spend time with you.

With the counter having everything you would need, Katsuki marched to the bedroom to where you were.

The door opened and Katsuki made a bee-line to you. You looked up from your book, a raised eyebrow coming onto your face. Before you could even speak, you felt large hands grab at you and hoist you up from bed. "KATSUKI!" You shouted as he hauled you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and marched straight out of the room. You wiggled, trying to get him to put you down, beating against his back to do so. "PUT ME DOWN! WHERE ON EARTH ARE YOU TAKING ME!" You shouted.

Katsuki went down the stairs and walked to the kitchen. He put you down on the tiled floor on your own two feet. He grabbed your apron, tying it around you before motioning to the counter.

You noticed eggs, milk, sugar, vanilla essance, everything you would need to make.... "Katsuki, what-"

"We're making cupcakes." He told you with a serious look on his face, not a hint of a joke on his lips. Then again, Katsuki was never good at joking.

Your face fell as you looked at him, not pleased by his attempt of bridging the gap between you. "And who said I want to make cupcakes with you?"

"Me." He stated as he grabbed the whisk and handed it to you. He moved over to the counter. "Now do you want vanilla or chocolate cupcakes?" He asked, minding himself as he grabbed two eggs and began to crack them.

You rolled your eyes. "I don't want cupcakes, Katsuki."

"Chocolate it is."

"Katsuki, are you listening to me?" You asked as you put your hands on your hips.

Katsuki moved to grab the milk and butter. "Pass me the flour, babe."

"Katsuki!" You frowned as you looked at the stubborn blond that seemed set on spending time with you this way. You looked at the open bag of flour. You grabbed a fist full. "Here's your stupid flour!" You shouted as you threw it at him, making Katsuki pause as white cake flour landed on his face and shoulder.

Your face fell as you realised what you did. You quickly slapped your other hand over your face as he slowly turned to you. He stared at you unblinkingly making you snort. You couldn't help the giggles that went through you as you tried not to laugh.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "Oh so you think this is funny huh?" He asked unamused.

"Katsuki I-" You giggled. "I'm so sorry. I-" You were interupted by a egg yoke landing straight at your chest making you freeze.

Katsuki stood with a wet hand that scooped up the eggs he had put in the bowl. He stood with a smug face as he stared at you. He tilted his head to the side, blond tufts of hair letting sprinkles of flour fall. "You know, I think I like you like this." You glared at him. You quickly lunged to the flour but Katsuki saw your plan. "Oh no you don't!"

You managed to grab a handful before he grabbed more. You threw it straight at his hair, making his hair more pale than blond. He threw the flour right back at you, making you gasp in shock. He quickly grabbed you and held you in his arms to stop you from grabbing more flour. You couldn't help but giggle as you took his hands and tickled your middrift.

"AH! Katsuki! KA- TSUKI LET GO OF ME! HAHAHA! OW! LET GO!"

"It's not funny now is it?" He asked with a loud laugh as he tickled you and held you in his strong big arms, lifting you off the ground so that you felt helpless. He managed to find the spot that had you squealing and squirming.

"AAHHHH!"

He laughed at you as he held you. "Say it! Say it!"

You tried to hold back but the tears in your eyes said otherwise. "I'm sorry! I'M SORRY!"

"and..."

"I FORGIVE YOU! AH- KATSUKI!"

He chuckled as he stopped tickling you, leaving you a giggling mess in his arms as he spun you to have your chest against his. He had a broad smile on your face as he watched the restless giggles and snorts leave your mouth.

He bent down to put his forehead against yours, allowing you to calm down as his thumb brushed at your hips. You opened your eyes to look into his own. You could tell his was sorry, you could tell that he was apologetic. You smiled as you cupped the side of his face, kissing his nose making him hum as he leaned in to kiss your lips.

Katsuki sometimes didn't have the words to say what he wanted to say. But his eyes and actions spoke enough for him.

He hummed as he leaned back. "You're my everything." He let out lowly.

You giggled as you nodded. "I know. You can't live without me."

"I can't."

"I'm glad we both agree." You grinned with soft giggles stumbling out of your chest making him laugh as he pulled you into his arms again.

You chuckled as you leaned back. "He was so petty! I honestly don't know what is up with me and falling in love with petty men." You recalled making Kane laugh.

"What about petty men?" Izuku stepped in, dressed in home clothes but holding his work bag as he was now in sight.

You smiled. "Izuku! How was work? I was just telling Kane some stories about his father." You told your husband.

You watched your husband's eyebrows raise. Kane hadn't spoken a word about his father or how he was feeling towards Katsuki since he had moved in with your family after being kicked out. He glanced between you and the blond boy on the couch. He smiled easy, not feeling worried at all. "Let me put down my things. I should tell him about the time me and Kacchan got caught fighting in Delta in the middle of the night for the fourth time by Sensei Aizawa."

"Fourth time!?" Kane asked shocked.

You giggled as you leaned back. "Izuku was a problem child."

"Hey! I wasn't a problem child I was just..." He walked over to you, leaning down. "Different." He offered up. You looked at him not convinced making him chuckle as he leaned down and kissed your lips. He smiled as he walked over to Kane ruffling his blond hair, making the blond scowl. "To be fair, your father started it."

-Glitch1d

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki x reader

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albonify · 4 months

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Nevermind, Let’s Hard Launch ! - Lando Norris

SUMMERY: Y/N has been reluctant to go public with her and Lando’s relationship, until she builds up enough courage to soft launch, but she gets bored.

WARNINGS: none, reader can speak french

french mon amor - my love, ma vie - my life

Y/N scoffs, putting her phone down. She is currently sitting on a yacht off the coast of Malta, curled up with her boyfriend, Lando, looking out at the water as she gently plays with his hair. Lando, hearing her scoff, looks up

“What’s up baby?” “Articles talking about how you have a new girlfriend this weekend, her names Alice by the way.”

He chuckles and opens his mouth to speak but Y/N cuts him off.

“She’s a brunette and totally your type!” she smiles as she mocks the article.

Y/N fakes a gasp, “Lando, ma vie, did you know that you apparently have a thing for tall brunettes? Because I sure didn’t.” she feigns shock before laughing. Lando just softly laughs at the girl’s antics.

“Baby, you know not to listen to those articles, because i’m pretty sure they’re wrong anyways. Im don’t think I know an Alice” he says, jokingly putting his thumb and index finger on his chin to feign thought.

“Oh i know ma vie, but they are quite funny to look at”, she laughs, “Besides”, she smiles and leans in, kissing him, “I know the truth”.

She smiles at him and gently intertwines their fingers. Lando smiles back at her and kisses her pinky finger, interlocked with his. It’s become a common place for the boy to kiss, having fallen in love with it when he first saw her freckle there.

“Just say the word and i’ll post us Y/N , you know i’ve been dying to let the the world know about you.” he states, looking at her.

“I know mon amor but I i’ve seen how girlfriends get treated online, and i am in no way ready for that.”

She sighs as she snuggles her head into the crook of Lando’s neck. Lando puts on a sad smile as he gently brushes through her hair.

“i know baby, but i promise, when we do go public, anyone who has hate to say will be dealt with, i wont let them get in the way of me and the girl i love.” Lando says softly.

Y/N smiles into his neck and leave a soft kiss to skin, she loves kissing his neck, its her sign of affection, totally nothing to do with the fact Lando just has a nice neck…

Lando, in return, moves her hair and kisses behind her ear, another common place for the boy to kiss, before his smile turns into a grin and he starts to gently tickle Y/N.

Y/n shouts softly “Lando no! stop!” inbetween her laughs.

Lando just start tickling her more adjusting their position so he is above her making it easier to tickle her, this time less gently as it prompts more laughs.

God how he loves Y/N’s laugh. he could listen to it all day.

It’s not until she starts kicking her feet against the couch that he stops.

Y/N looks at Lando, his grin still prominent as he catches his breath, his messy hair asking to be played with, and she thinks she falls more in love at the sight.

At the same time Lando just looks at her, her hair all disheveled, slightly out of breath, her cheeks pink, and her smile still beaming, its at this moment Lando knows it’s her forever.

“I love you so much baby” He says as he kisses her softly.

Y/N kisses him back saying, “I love you too mon amor, more than you could ever know”. She smiles before her eyes drift and Lando recognizes that look, she’s in thought.

He lays down softly kissing her cheek before looking at her, “What you thinking about baby?”.

Y/N looks up at the sound of his voice, “What if we soft launch?”.

Lando lights up at the idea of finally being able to show her off, “Are you sure love? we dont have to if you dont want to”.

“Yeah im sure mon amor, t we’ve been dating since our teens and i know it’s you Lan it always has been and it always will be, not even the internet will change that. so yes Lan, im ready.” She smiles softly reaching up to touch his hair.

Lando smiles brightly, slightly blushing at her comment, “Im glad because I feel the same way” He leans down and kisses her. When he comes back up his grin has become a smirk.

“Well what are we waiting for?” he asks “LET’s SOFT LAUNCH” Y/N laughs and grabs her phone.

landonorris

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landonorris summer break was epic

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user LANDO WHAT ITS THIS

oscarpiastri great break huh? 😏

-> user OSCAR WHAT DO YOU KNOW

-> landonorris yeah, it was pretty good!

-> user why are men so dry 😐

user THE SECOND SLIDE?!!! jdksndowmendk LANDO.

yourusername 🤍🐚

user IS THIS A SOFT LAUNCH

-> user did you hear that? that was my heart shattering.

user ladies i fear this is a soft launch, we lost him 😔

maxfewtrell wtf mate, why dont i know about this?

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🎶 High by the Beach - Lana Del Rey

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bsf.user UHM HELLO?

bsf.user WHO IS THAT

bsf.user WHO IS TRYING TO STEAL MY GIRL

-> yourusername 🤷🏼‍♀️🤭

-> bsf.user UNACCEPTABLE.

bsf.user you look so absolutely stunning tho 🤍🤍

-> yourusername i love youuuu 🤍

friend1.user oh so we have a lot to catch up on then?

friend2.user oh youre glowing babes 💋

It’s been a few days since you and Lando soft launched. You were happy to see most people were supportive but you were still nervous.

“What you looking at baby?” Lando asks.

Right now you where tanning on the beach with a book in your hands, lando was soaked, having just came from the water. “Reading and thinking my love.” you reply.

Lando moves to lay on you, “what are you thinking about pretty girl?” he asks as he closes his eyes, joining her in sunbathing.

“Our soft launch” Y/N replies. At that Lando eyes widen, “is something wrong with it?” he asks worried.

“No my love, I was thinking about what if we did more.” “more?” Lando asks confused.

“Yeah like what if we hard launched?” Y/N said nervously picking at her cuticles.

Lando grabs her hands to stop her and looks at her, “You… want to… hard launch?” he asks her confused, knowing that she loved the privacy they had. “Yeah i know its you and i know the internet wont get in the way of us, so i want to hard launch”

“OMG OKAY im gonna go do that right now i love you” Lando quickly kisses her and runs to get his phone.

Y/N laughs at the boys excitement and grabs her phone waiting for whats next.

landonorris

🎶 Cupid’s Chokehold - Gym Class Heroes

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landonorris 5 years with you, to forever more years. i love you forever my dear 🤍

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yourusername the best 5 years of my life, cant wait for the rest. onto our forever my love 🧡.

yourusername

🎶 Always Forever - Cults

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yourusername i’ve loved you 5 years of my life and i plan to keep loving you for the rest. toi toujours, ma vie 🧡.

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landonorris i cant wait to get married and get old with you. i love you now and forever flower 🤍.

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talesofesther · 8 months

Text

make it taste like love

Loki x Reader

Summary: You felt him before you even met him. And despite the pain he carried around, his soul was one of the most beautiful you'd ever seen.

A/N: A spur-of-the-moment idea that I simply couldn't ignore. I really hope you guys enjoy it, and yes I'm working on part two of my series with Loki as well. <3

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

The battle had left its mark on everyone, both physically and mentally. All the lives that were lost wouldn't be brought back. But everyone took solace in the fact that Thanos and his army were no longer a threat. And now, it was a time for rebuilding.

Wakanda's grassland was a battlefield. Bodies of both friend and foe lay scattered on the ground. The mourning loomed heavy in the air, you could feel it weighing down on your chest, your throat, and lungs. It was suffocating, prickling into your skin like needles. Yet you still walked, your boots crushing the grass underneath while you avoided stepping on stretched arms and legs, you needed to make sure no one else remained left behind.

A few feet away, the mad titan who once threatened the entire universe lay lifeless on the ground, his head disconnected from his body. For him, you felt no pity.

King T'Challa was both happy and sad to see you and the others leave. Happy, because it meant the end of a war; sad, because of having to say farewell to dear friends. But you, Steve, Natasha, and Banner were needed back in town, back at the Avengers compound; to welcome Tony back on earth, and because Thanos' attack had reverberated in many other places. It seemed like the Avengers were back in the game.

─── ·❆· ───

This morning was a gloomy one. Grey skies peeked behind your curtains in the early hours of the day, maybe it would rain soon. It's been two weeks since the battle, and you were glad to see that most people were recovering; each in their own way, but recovering nonetheless.

You were already up when the clock hit 7:30 AM, holding a warm cup of coffee between your hands, and staring out into the compound's driveway and past the treeline through the big windows of the kitchen. Today would be the day that Thor came back, he'd been helping with the settling of his people in New Asgard until now, but you've heard about him not wanting to be king anymore. You were happy for him, you never did think that a ruler's life suited him anyway—and you missed your friend.

"He gets one chance, Rogers. One chance and that's it." Tony's voice suddenly caught your attention as he stepped into the kitchen, you turned your back to the window so you could watch as your resident Iron Man poured himself a cup of coffee without looking at his mug. Steve was right beside him, his hands on his hips as he sighed quietly, already all too used to Tony's moods.

"Yes, one chance, he proved himself enough by helping us fight against Thanos, I suppose we owe him the benefit of the doubt," Steve agreed, still holding his voice calm.

With a smirk on your lips, you approached your teammates. "What's going on, guys?" You leaned on the kitchen island, taking a sip of your coffee.

Tony ran his tongue over his bottom lip, his expression less than pleased as he took a sip of his own coffee before saying; "point break is bringing his beloved brother to our home." He shrugged, and said in a quieter tone, "Says he changed or something."

"Loki will be staying with us?" You raised an eyebrow. The attack on New York happened before you joined the team, but you were familiar enough with it to be wary of Thor's brother, even if Thor did speak more nicely of him recently. Still, you had never actually met Loki to form your own opinion.

"That's… to be decided," Tony grumbled, shooting a glance toward Steve. "But yes, pretty much. And, by the way, Strange wasn't happy about having reindeer games back in the city either."

"Wow, you guys finally agree on something," you snickered.

Tony mouthed a 'don't' to you, before Steve said; "Strange knows we'll handle it if anything happens, but Thor vouches for him, so…"

You gave Steve a soft smile, and as much as you understood Tony's wariness, you agreed with the Captain. Loki didn't have the best of pasts with the City, but his help in the recent battle was one of many game-changers. He deserved a second chance.

Strangely enough, you found yourself excited to meet the God of Mischief. It was in your nature to analyze people, watch them from afar, and learn about the things they'd rather not say out loud. And someone like Loki, who had both once tried to take over your planet and now helped in saving it, was bound to raise some curiosity.

No more than an hour passed before you heard Thor's strong voice all the way from the living room. A small smile instantly came to your lips as you discarded your book, got up from the couch, and put on your slippers, rushing to the main doors to greet him.

Before you could turn the last corner, however, you came to an abrupt halt. Your breath got caught up in your throat and you had to lean back on the wall for support. Clutching the fabric of your shirt right above your heart, you were glad that this particular hallway was currently empty.

You could hear Thor's voice just around the corner, Tony was there too, but their words were faint and far away. Your vision was suddenly a little blurry, and underneath your palm you could feel your heart beating frantically.

See, this was nothing that hadn't happened before, after all, you are an empath. But a feeling this heavy rarely comes unannounced, unwanted. It briefly reminded you of when you first discovered your power, when you had no control and could pick up on pain, anger, joy, and pleasure that were not your own even if you didn't want to. Yet now, after years of living with it, you had learned to dose your perception of the feelings around you; now, when you weren't willingly focusing, other people's emotions felt more like a gentle whisper, a gush of chilly wind on your skin—something you were able to ignore if you wanted to.

But this overwhelming sadness; this emptiness, and loss, and pain; it came to you with such force that you were not able to block out. Seconds felt like hours, until the surprise of the new feeling passed and you took back control. Whispers of it remained, lurking in your stomach and in the back of your throat, but with a bit of extra focus, you were able to handle it.

And once your mind was finally clear again, it hit you. Who did you catch these feelings from?

You took a step around the corner cautiously, hands buried in your pockets as your eyes roamed your surroundings. There was no one around besides Tony, Thor, and Loki.

You knew it right away. You were familiar with the emotions radiating from Tony and Thor; but him, the raven-haired trickster, he was new, and if you didn't feel empathy for him before, you did now.

Loki held himself immaculately, a straight posture and a serene expression on his face. You had no idea how he did it, how he was able to hold all of those feelings in and still look so well put together; because one glance into his soul and you already felt like crying.

There was a light drizzle falling outside, maybe that's why Loki's black blazer seemed to be shining under the bright lights of the entrance hall. His eyes—bright and ocean-green—were settled on you; the realization got you feeling hyperaware of each movement you made. Even his gaze was heavy.

Thor's booming voice calling your name captured your attention then, he had a big smile on his face and before you knew it he already had your feet off the floor as he held you in a hug.

You laughed against his shoulder, hugging him back just as tight and telling him all about how much you missed him. Still, when you let go, your eyes found Loki's again, he hadn't stopped looking at you once.

─── ·❆· ───

The opinions about Loki's presence in the compound were mixed, but most of your teammates seemed fine with it; truth be told, no one paid much attention to him. As you'd expected, Loki's room was on your floor, because that's where Thor stayed too; as well as Tony, Natasha, and Yelena.

It's been a few days since his arrival, yet you haven't had the opportunity to properly speak with him, alone. But you've been feeling him a lot. Whether it was you subconsciously focusing on him more, or something else, it seemed like your body was more in tune and connected with his than you've ever been with anyone else. You picked up on a few of his emotions even if you weren't actively trying to; you felt his bouts of uneasiness when someone would stare at him for too long, you felt his gentle serenity whenever he'd sit near the windows to read a book, you felt his sparks of joy when people greeted him with a good morning or asked if he'd want coffee; but most of all, you still felt that lingering sadness that followed him everywhere he went, a weight he seemed to be all too used to having around.

In some ways, you felt as if you were invading his privacy, and that bothered you. During the day you tried to keep your mind as busy as you could to keep yourself from feeling him; in the late hours of the night though, when you were trying to sleep, there wasn't much you could do.

You have been tossing and turning in bed for probably about two hours now, drifting in and out of sleep. The crescent moon just outside your window seemed to be taunting you, amused with your misfortune. You scoffed as you glared at the natural satellite—great, now you were arguing with the cosmos.

Loki was having a nightmare. You could tell by the rapid beating of his heart and the cold sweat running down his forehead—your abilities went way beyond simply feeling other people's emotions, but sometimes you wished they wouldn't. It's not the first time that you've felt Loki's restless sleep in the short time he's been here. Your heart ached for him; it got you wanting to alleviate his pain.

But you couldn't do that, so you got up from your bed, put on your fluffy slippers, and made a beeline for the kitchen. The air outside was chilly, biting at your warm skin and making you shiver. At this hour of the night, the compound was completely dark and quiet, a big contrast to how it was when the sun was up. You asked Friday to turn on one of the lights in the kitchen, giving the space a dim-lit look as the single light bled into the adjacent living room.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, humming the lyrics of the song stuck in your head as you reached for the upper cabinet to grab a mug so you could make yourself some tea. When you turned around again though, a gasp escaped your mouth and you nearly dropped the mug you were holding. You cursed quietly under your breath, placing a hand over your heart; if you weren't fully awake before, you sure were now. "You scared me," you muttered, trying a small smile.

The reason for your lack of sleep stood before you, with dark green slippers that matched his button-up pajama shirt, and his hair the messier you've ever seen it be. "Sorry, it was not my intention," Loki smirked back at you.

It hit you that this was finally the first time you were alone with him, and you'd been caught off guard. You tapped your mug, opening your lips but no words came out. Loki's eyes remained on you, unwavering, yet his gaze was so… soft, gentle even; his eyebrows weren't creased and he patiently waited for you with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. He didn't look like the god you usually saw roaming the halls during the day.

"It's alright. I was just making tea," you said finally, gesturing to your mug, "would you like me to make one for you too?"

Loki's surprise at your offer was so great that you felt it in your bones. What was he expecting you to do?

His lips parted only slightly and he straightened his posture before saying; "I would- yes, I would like that."

You couldn't help the full smile that came to your lips and crinkled the side of your eyes, "great, sit down, it'll be ready in just a moment."

The warm mug between your hands warmed up your skin. It felt nice, sitting like this with Loki; in a quiet kitchen with only you and him, and just the lonely light to your left softly highlighting his features in front of you. It was a peaceful silence, and you couldn't help but check if he felt it too.

The rhythm of his heart was calm, his soul felt light and at ease; not completely, but the most you've ever felt from him.

"Why are you here?" His sultry voice snapped you back to reality.

"Uh- I'm sorry?" You frowned.

"Why are you here, if I may ask?" Loki tilted his head amusedly, his fingers tracing the brim of his mug. "Thor mentioned you had… abilities, but he never specified what they are."

Now it was your turn to be surprised by his curiosity for you. "Well, to put it simply, I'm an empath," you told him.

Loki blinked, once, twice, at your response. He looked at you for a moment before inquiring further; "and to put it completely?"

You smirked then, folding your arms over the table. "I can feel people's emotions, if I want to; their anger, happiness, hesitation, fear. But I can also feel their heartbeats, the blood cursing through their bodies. I can tell when they're lying or telling the truth, if they're tired or hurt. And sometimes, I can influence those emotions," you paused, hesitating for a beat, "bring fear, or… take away pain."

Loki grew tense after learning of what you could do. To be fair, most people did at first, you were used to it. Be he felt different, his heartbeat sped up and stayed that way. He'd put his guard up, and it brought a pang of hurt to your chest.

"Are you always feeling everything then?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Gods, no," you breathed, "at first I did, and it was awful. But with time, I learned to control it." You tried smiling at him, but his eyes were downcast, focused on his mug.

You bit your lower lip in nervousness. Looking past Loki and out the window, you could see the first signs of the sunrise peeking over the horizon, dark skies turning a soft lilac and blue; you'd been here longer than you realized.

When Loki glanced up at you again, his bright eyes still held sparks of that same softness from earlier. He pursed his lips in a smile; "thank you for the tea." And with that, he got up and left, leaving you in the company of the first birds who always sang in the mornings.

─── ·❆· ───

You made Loki nervous. It wasn't a bad kind of nervous, it was the kind that sped up his heart and made his cold hands feel clammy.

Out of everyone in the compound, you were the kindest. You'd always shoot him a smile whenever you'd pass by each other in the hallways; you'd always save a seat for him at the table; you always respected his silence whenever you came into the library and caught him reading his book, saying a quiet hello and nothing more, just sitting on one of the armchairs with your own book and allowing him to enjoy his moment, and more recently, your presence too.

When he'd finally learned of your abilities, he got apprehensive, worried even; that you'd pick up on whatever it was that he felt when he was near you, and it would drive you away.

So far, it hasn't happened yet.

The sun was out today, and with it, so was everyone else. In the spacious backyard of the compound, Steve was in charge of the barbecue, and Tony was in charge of the drinks. Natasha had sunglasses covering her eyes while she and Clint bickered over a game of cards; Yelena was sitting beside her sister at the lunch table, however, she seemed to be on Clint's side of the argument. Thor and Banner were laughing together as they made fun of Steve's cooking skills, who tried to defend himself by saying he wasn't actually done yet. Tony looked like he was trying to convince Bucky to drink a dubious-looking beverage, the latter didn't seem too keen on it.

And Loki watched them from afar, from the living room window of his floor. Thor had asked that he join them downstairs, saying something about how he should start trying to fit in and mingle, instead of just existing in the others' presence. Making friends wasn't Loki's forte; as much as he'd fight not to admit it, he was still working up the courage.

With a long sigh, Loki turned around and made his way to the place where he'd been spending most of his free time.

The compound's library was quite huge. One of the few rooms in the whole facility that had warm colors painting the walls and lacked the modern look; tall wooden shelves held thousands of books, a soft beige carpet covered the floor, and there were armchairs and sofas scattered in corners and in-between shelves creating comfortable, isolated nooks for reading. Loki's favorite spot was a worn armchair that stood near one of the big windows, it was surrounded by books that most people didn't read anymore, and the window itself overlooked the treeline in which the sun hid behind at the end of every day; sometimes as he sat there to read, it reminded him of his room back in Asgard.

Loki walked brushing his fingers over the spine of the old books, watching as dust particles danced in the sunlight. But as he rounded the shelf that led to his spot, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, feet glued to the carpet.

You sat cross-legged on the worn armchair, with a thick book lying in your lap that held all of your attention; the sun was shining right behind you, creating a halo above your head and bathing the strands of your hair in golden. You looked like something out of his favorite tale, more enchanting than all of the Midgard poetry books he's ever read.

It seemed like you two were making a habit of bumping into each other unexpectedly.

Loki gulped, squaring his shoulders. A beat passed, and then two, until you finally noticed him from the corner of your eyes. You looked up at him with your eyebrows softly raised in surprise, a gentle smile lifted the sides of your mouth; "Loki, hi."

"Hello," Loki greeted you slowly, his eyes shifting from the book in your lap to your eyes, "shouldn't you be out with the others, enjoying the sun?"

"Should I?" You narrowed your eyes, lazily closing your book and getting up from the armchair. "Shouldn't you?" You asked then, smirking as you raised an eyebrow and took a step towards him.

Loki's heart stumbled inside his chest, he breathed out a laugh. "I'm not big on hangouts."

You hummed, burying your hands in the pockets of your jeans. "Why is that?"

For a moment, Loki dwelled on whether to be honest or come up with an easy lie. But you were looking up at him with such delicacy, such attention, not a trace of hatred or judgment in your warm eyes. It almost looked as if you cared... about him.

Loki breathed in sharply through his nose, the words rolled off his tongue on their own; "I doubt many of your friends would enjoy my presence there."

You blinked up at him, lips parting before you told him quietly; "I would."

There was a distant burning behind Loki's eyes, his mouth felt dry. No one had ever rendered him completely speechless before, yet now, you had done just that. With his silence, you avoided his eyes and ran your tongue over your bottom lip in a motion that he couldn't help but follow.

"And..." You continued, voice sweet as honey, traveling between the bookshelves in the secluded library, "We'll never know if we don't try, right?"

The way you referred to you and him as 'we' got a foreign feeling blossoming inside Loki's chest, all warm and tingly. When you offered him your hand, so you could guide him downstairs to meet the others, he took it.

─── ·❆· ───

After a full week of taking care of the whole city, Saturday nights were a time for having fun and relaxing; aka movie nights with the team. Everyone sat together in the main living room of the compound, Tony had labeled it 'mandatory bonding day'. The room itself was pretty spacious, dimly lit, with two big comfortable couches and a TV that almost covered the whole wall, and a small kitchen right beside it for easy snacks and drinks.

"Right, I'm thinking... Terminator." Tony suggested as he came from the kitchen with an extra large bowl of popcorn in his arms.

"We saw that one already," Steve complained as he fumbled with the remote.

"There are multiple ones," Tony said, smugly, as he plopped himself on the couch and threw popcorn in his mouth.

Thor, who sat beside you, suddenly perked up with a giddy smile on his face; "oh I've always enjoyed that one who has the girl with the long, magic hair." The god gestured to his own hair.

Tony gaped at him, his fingers holding the popcorn were frozen midair. "Tangled?" He exclaimed then, eyebrows raised, "You wanna watch Tangled? in my house?"

You fought to hide a smile. "Technically it's our house," you quipped, after all, you were to blame for Thor's love for the Disney movie.

"Why don't we just watch both? The night is still young," Yelena finally suggested from her spot by the corner of the couch.

As they continued bickering, your eyes finally caught sight of the one you'd been waiting for.

Loki walked into the living room quietly, his socked feet barely making any noise on the expensive flooring. His gaze found yours before he saw anything else in the room, and a gentle, shy smile appeared on his lips.

You'd grown very close, very fast. Loki had started seeking your presence more and more each passing day; during the mornings he'd wait for you with an extra cup of coffee in hand, during the missions it was already routine that you two were a pair, and during the night you never parted ways without him planting a kiss on your forehead first.

Never in your life had you met someone quite like him, who carried such a bruised heart and still managed to be so loving. It made you wonder if anyone had ever bothered to see how beautiful his soul was, for you had fallen in love with it before you even touched his skin.

You gently patted the vacant seat on your left side, lifting the thin blanket covering your legs so Loki could sit down, and once he did you draped part of it over his legs as well.

"What's today's punishment?" Loki smirked, making himself comfortable beside you. His shoulder flush with yours.

"Stop it, movie nights are nice. I know you secretly enjoy them too," you chuckled, bumping his knee with yours. His proximity raised goosebumps all over your skin, and if you weren't so focused on your own feelings, you would've felt how much Loki's heart was racing as well.

"I only come to these because you do too," Loki mumbled, his eyes focused on the TV and a frown appearing on his eyebrows as the first scenes from Tangled played on the screen.

Your breath caught on your throat. He had said it so casually, so easily. You wondered if he had even realized the weight of his own words. "Right," you whispered, a little breathless.

It didn't take long for the only light in the room to be the one coming from the TV. When Tangled hit the 45-minute mark, Tony was already snoring and Thor had finished two bowls of popcorn. You, however, were wide awake and fully aware of Loki's arm resting on the back of the couch. What a cliche move, you thought to yourself, your cheeks burning hot and biting back a smile.

Loki's face as he watched the movie was nothing short of comical, one would think he was watching a period drama; his lips hovering ever so slightly before he'd scoff at a musical scene, his eyes softening as the romance between Rapunzel and Flynn blossomed, the way he mindlessly played with the ends of your hair. You watched him more than you watched the movie, and you didn't miss the way he froze and gulped when you finally rested your head on his shoulder.

─── ·❆· ───

The day had started out fine; a cold yet sunny morning, your fingers brushing Loki's when he handed you your cup of coffee, no eminent trouble in the city, everything was normal and fine; until it took a turn for the worse.

You didn't hear the fight, you didn't know exactly what caused it, but you felt it immediately. Anger, hurt, and pain were suddenly heavy in the air even through the closed door of your bedroom. As soon as a shiver ran up and down your spine you got up and all but ran outside to chase the somber feeling.

The elevator doors of your floor weren't even fully open yet when Loki busted his way through them, Thor hot on his heels.

"I knew it was a mistake coming here," Loki snapped, his steps fast as he put as much distance between himself and Thor as he could, nearly running straight into you in the process.

"You know what, brother," Thor began, he had stopped walking, standing in the middle of the living room, "Maybe it really was a mistake to bring you here, you don't care about anyone but yourself, it's almost as if you enjoy hurting people, you can't help it. It'll always be like this, that's why you're better off on your own." Thor wasn't shouting, but his words rang loudly in the room; his chest heaving when he stopped speaking.

You had held your breath the entire time, gripping the back of a kitchen stool until your knuckles turned white. Thor was angry, you could feel it even without being near him, but he didn't mean what he had said, not entirely. Thor's emotions were a passing wind on your skin though, for who you really felt, stood just a few feet behind you.

Loki had his back turned to his brother when he spoke, and he didn't turn around after. Even without looking at him, you could feel the way he trembled, unsteady hands closed into tight fists to mask his hurt; he gulped back a sob, and kept on walking to his bedroom without a word.

You could choke with the amount of pain radiating off of Loki; heavy, sickening, all-encompassing pain that you felt so vividly in your skin and bones. You only shot Thor an angry glance and muttered; "Damnit Thor," before turning around hastily. You thought you heard Thor calling after you, but you decided to ignore him, your priorities already set.

You ran after Loki, catching up just before his door slammed shut. Taking a deep breath, you walked into his bedroom and softly closed the door behind you with a click.

You'd never actually been in Loki's room before, so you took a single moment to glance around. The room itself was a little bare, with only the necessities such as a double bed, a dresser, a desk, a small bookshelf, and the door that led to his bathroom. You made a mental note to gift him something to liven up his space; maybe a plant.

Loki had his back turned to you still, both his hands resting on his waist as his head hung low. But you knew he knew it was you there with him, by the simple fact that he was allowing you to stay.

The silence was a heavy one, packed with the electricity of two souls tightly holding onto each other. Loki was trying so hard to keep all his pain in control, his shoulders shaking with each breath he took; but you could feel it as if it was your own.

"Loki," you said his name in nothing but breath, testing the waters. You took half a step toward him as you fidgeted with your hands.

He didn't answer. You weren't expecting him to.

You pursed your lips before saying; "he didn't mean it," your voice was choked and took effort to come out, the back of your eyes already burning, "what Thor said. He- he didn't mean it."

A few beats passed, and then; "doesn't matter if he did." Loki's words cracked in the middle, it was the most broken you'd ever heard him sound. "He's right."

"He's not," you told him in the same heartbeat, not a tint of hesitation in your tone.

Loki turned around, his gaze finally finding yours and there were tears pooling at the bottom lid of his bright eyes. "Yes, he is," he took a single big step toward you, nearly closing the distance between you and him. Loki's lips trembled as he struggled to keep talking; "and why is it that you care? What's in it for you?"

He was hurt, and he was frustrated, and he was angry; you knew that. Still, you couldn't help but be taken aback by his question. What could he even mean by that? Did he really believe that all this time that you'd been dancing around each other's feelings, it wasn't real?

"Loki, I-" you stuttered, not knowing how to say it without baring your heart in the process. Your hesitation got Loki avoiding his eyes from yours, and you forced yourself to go on. "There's nothing 'in it for me' I just... care about you."

Still waiting for the other shoe to drop, Loki softly shook his head, scoffing. His tears were a blink away from spilling, he felt as if barbed wire was wrapped around his throat, and his heart threatened to jump from his chest and straight into your hands.

It scared him. How easily you could make his walls crumble like paper in the rain. He flinched slightly when he felt the ghost of your touch on his cheek, blinking multiple times when your thumb brushed away a single tear rolling down his cheek. You touched him as if he were porcelain, and yet it still broke him.

"Is it that hard to believe that you're important to me?" You asked then, voice nothing but a whisper in the short space separating your bodies. With your hand still holding his cheek, you forced his eyes back on yours. "You have a good heart, Loki. I just wish you could see it the way I do. I wish everyone could see it."

The crooked smile he gave you nearly made your own tears fall. "You don't know what you're talking about, you don't know what I've done," he told you quietly, more than anything, he sounded utterly defeated.

"But I do know," your free hand found one of his then, and you tangled your fingers together loosely, "I might not have been with the Avengers when you attacked New York, but I was still in New York. And I still mean it, you could tell me every single bad thing you've ever done and I'd still tell you how good you are, because I see it. Every single day, Loki. I feel you every single day, and I can feel all this-" Your words caught in your throat and you tasted your tears on your lips. "-All this pain that you carry around and you still choose to be good."

Too many emotions swam behind his eyes for you to put a finger in any of them. But tears were running freely down Loki's cheeks now, pooling against your hand resting on his cheek.

"What did you-" he tried, gasping for air as if he was underwater. This was foreign territory. You had a place in his heart no one else could ever have, he realized, and his heart was beating faster than his mind knew what to do with. "You've been prying into my emotions without me knowing?" He sounded more desperate than annoyed.

"I didn't want to," You explained quickly, "I- I never meant to, but for some reason, I can't block you out." Shrugging weakly, you slowly dropped the hand resting on his cheek, missing the way he glanced down in search of your warmth. "I tried. I really tried."

There was a vulnerability in Loki's eyes you'd never seen before. He looked at you as if he'd just realized what love is. You wondered if you mimicked the same gaze—you sure felt it.

Loki shuffled in his stance. His hand, still holding onto yours, tightened its grip. "I'm-" He avoided your eyes, looking somewhere past your shoulder, "I'm sorry you had to feel all that."

You softened at his words, shaking your head and taking another step forward until your sneakers bumped his shoes. "Wasn't your fault," you whispered.

Loki gulped back a sob after you spoke, and that was the last straw for you to let go of his hand and pull his body to yours in an embrace.

He melted into you.

Loki's fingers dug into the fabric of your shirt and he buried his head against your shoulder—you soon felt it becoming damp, yet you only hugged him tighter. With the desperation he was holding you with, you wondered when was the last time someone had held him.

The soft sobs escaping him were muffled against you. And you couldn't help but stroke his back, the tips of your fingers burying into his very soul. "I'm sorry you had to go through all of this alone." You spoke near his ear, feeling the goosebumps that raised on his skin. "You never deserved it," you promised.

You weren't sure how much time passed, you stayed there for as long as Loki needed you to. When he eventually pulled away, he didn't go far, his hands kept holding your body close to him as if he was afraid you'd leave if he let go.

His bright eyes didn't hold a storm anymore, they were more like a calm sea. A soft frown etched itself into his eyebrows, "did you… take away my pain?"

You chuckled quietly, "No, I can't take away people's emotions." You lifted a hand until your fingertips could brush the skin on his forehead, "But I can make them lighter." You traced an invisible line over his eyebrow and until you reached his cheekbone, "Make the weight just a little bit easier to carry."

Loki leaned into your touch, almost closing his eyes. His hands that rested on your back traced your spine and pulled you closer. "Darling, you've been making it easier ever since the first day I met you."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

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forty, love | part 2 | natasha romanoff

part 2 of forty, love | read part 3

synopsis: you lost, and natasha got what she wanted. or that's what you thought, at least.

natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

word count: 4.6k words

a/n: did y'all think i would leave you hanging just like that? come on now, i would never do that :D

masterlist

for the few seconds after the match, as the umpire announced the score officially, and declaring princeton as the winners, you were numb. there was nothing but ringing in your ears, no emotions, no feelings. you had simply laid your racket down on the court then, walking off with nothing but the ringing, and numbness, within.

you almost couldn’t remember anything during the prize-giving ceremony. how you stood on a podium only slightly shorter than the winner, how you were handed a silver trophy instead of a gold one, how the organisers smiled at you warmly, still managing to utter a “congratulations”. you didn’t remember if you even bothered smiling in the photographs they took.

then came the low hum. it sounded almost like white noise, but it was there. a low hum of something whirring around you, it could have been your coach, or your teammates, or even people squeezing in to try to get an autograph from you as you made your way to your dressing room. none of it mattered. it felt like you were walking on clouds, almost weightless as your feet carried you automatically to where you needed to be. you swiped your card against the door, and entered. it locked with a click after.

hunched over and your head in your hands was how natasha found you. she had begged the guards to let her into your dressing room when you had refused to open the door for anyone else, and reluctantly, knowing who she was to you, they had let her. the room was silent when she entered, you almost looked like a statue.

it was her turn to drop to her knees, facing you and trying to coax you to look at her. natasha managed to lift your head enough to see you, but not enough to look at her. she thought it was best to just lay your head on her shoulder, rocking you in comfort, in that position for a while. there were no tears against her shirt this time, strangely.

five minutes passed. she knew it would possibly take longer, but then your hands were on hers, tearing yourself away from her touch. natasha wanted to smile as she saw the beautiful hue in your eyes again.

but then, you said, “you should leave.”

natasha didn’t even feel like she deserved to feel used, because she had done this to herself. she had asked for this, she had threatened to leave you first. she bit her lip, and shook her head slowly. “no, no, no.”

“natasha, please leave.”

“i hadn’t meant what i said, i wasn’t…baby, i’m not leaving you.” suddenly, the truth of what she had said had become too terrifying to confront. of course she hadn’t meant it. of course she didn’t intend on leaving you. not like this. not just for something as stupid as this. how could she leave you just because you had lost on a single point in a match? didn’t you know her better than this?

natasha scrambled to her feet when you stood first, face devoid of any emotion. she thought it was less scary when you at least cried after losing. you made your way over to the trophy resting atop the vanity table, picked it up and shoved it towards natasha, and spat, “you didn’t have to say it out loud to mean it.”

then, natasha watched as you collected the rest of your items, and approached the door. she was still in shock, and remorse, but she knew at least, that if she allowed you to walk out this time, she would possibly never see you again. and so she gave chase, and before the door could unlock and you could step out, her arms were around your waist, her front pressed to your back, begging you to stay.

“wait, wait, please. you have to listen to me–”

“–there is nothing to listen to,” you didn’t understand why she was even trying to hold on, “we’re done. it’s over. i lost, you will leave. you made it very clear, and i have accepted this fate even before you said it out loud. we both know we’re done, so can you just make it easier and let me leave?”

“no, we were o-okay, we were good. why are you suddenly…?”

then, you turned to face her. “were we? tell me you see this playing out any better than it did today. tell me you would have really stayed.”

at her stunned silence, you took it as your confirmation. unlocking the door and pushing her off of you, you spared one last look at her, tears streaming down her cheeks and a hurt expression you would have killed to apologise for in the past, and said, “i hope you find someone better. someone who would always win for you.”

when natasha returned to your shared hotel room later on, she found that you had packed up all of your things and checked out early. your coach was kind enough to tell her that you had returned back to your dorms first. then, he gave her a sympathetic look, and told her that she shouldn’t try to find you, because you had advised your building security not to let her in.

–

a week after the match, however, natasha received a call from you. she was in the middle of waiting for the results of a scholarship interview, but it didn’t stop her from racing down the stairs, bursting out into the open lawn, and praying for complete silence so she could hear your voice better.

“hello…?” you realised she sounded hopeful, almost happy that you called.

“hi, natasha. can we meet?”

you were to come over to her dorm later that evening. you wanted to discuss some things, natasha heard it as you wanting to give your relationship a second chance. you offered to bring her dinner as a peace offering, she heard it as your invitation for a reconciliation date. she declined and told you she would be cooking for you both. you ended the call with a noncommittal grunt. she felt like the heavens had blessed her with a second chance.

when she went home, she deep-cleaned her room, went out to get a bouquet of your favourite flowers, and even enlisted the help of her friends to help cook and set up a candlelit dinner for the both of you. she made sure everything was perfect, down to a T, and she was going to make sure that you wouldn’t regret giving her a second chance.

you arrived ten minutes late in a t-shirt and jeans, and looking around at the setup of the room, the dim romantic lighting and the steak dinners on the makeshift table in her corner, it was then that you noticed natasha too, was in a dress that you always told her made her look like a million dollars.

she was moving on fast, you thought. a dinner date right after your unloading of the last of her things? perhaps the natasha you knew was not really the natasha that was in front of you then. you couldn’t control the annoyance, “guess you’ve moved on, then?”

the sneer on your face disappeared the moment you looked back at her. she was staring at the box full of her things that were cradled in your arms, tears threatening to fall from her eyes at the sight of it all. that’s when you realised. it was all for you.

you almost backed out. almost put the box down, shoved it back to where it belonged, strewn about your room and laying with your own belongings, and dropped to your knees in front of her. almost began repeating your usual i’m sorry, i’m sorry, forgive me, i love you in a million different ways, almost asking her to rethink all that had been done in the past week altogether. you almost went right back to her arms, wiping her tears and apologising for making her cry.

but you couldn’t do it. not anymore. natasha wasn’t yours now, and you were nothing to her. you needed to move on, you needed to be strong. so you gripped onto the box harder, and got on with what you wanted to say.

“i’m sorry i ended things that way…in such a crude manner…during the finals. you didn’t deserve that, and i was so vexed and caught up in the heat of the moment. our separation…it should’ve been done better.”

natasha didn’t know how else it could have been done better. how else you could have broken up with her that didn’t involve her getting her heart ripped out.

but you were steady, the words memorised and practised over and over in your head, natasha knew. “i came here, not to fix things or to try again at something we both know isn’t going to work. i’m sorry if i gave you that impression. but i want us to remain cordial, at the very least, and not hate each other. not that i could ever hate you, because…” you cleared the lump in your throat at natasha beginning to weep, “...because you were my best friend, my motivation, my…everything, for almost all of my college life here. so, i think we deserve it, we both deserve at least remaining friendly with each other, for the past 3 years we have shared. i don’t regret it, and i hope you didn’t either.”

natasha was choking up with tears by then, the makeup on her face running down her cheeks as she desperately tried to hold herself, to stop the goddamn tears from flowing like a river. it was so embarrassing. your lips were bleeding with how hard you were biting them, but you remained strong. you wanted nothing more than to beg for her forgiveness, for her to take you back, to tell you that you were wrong and that she loved you despite it all and that she was never going to leave you ever again, but you couldn’t. you had to harshly remind yourself that she had moved on, and you should too.

you gently laid the box by her bed, your shirt that had become hers over the years at the top of it, the only thing that you found hardest to let go of. it was yours, but you thought it was only fair that she had it. natasha sat on the bed, watching you stare at the shirt for a minute wistfully.

when you managed to pull yourself out of it, you turned back to her, the silent question ringing in the air. “you can um…keep my stuff. or throw it in the trash, burn it, give it away, whatever. it’s okay, you don’t need to return it back.”

natasha already knew she would be keeping all of it, for at least years after this.

you prepared to leave, taking one last look at the room you had spent so many nights in, made so many happy memories in, and smiled softly at natasha. she tried to mirror one back, but another tear fell, and she gave up altogether. she didn’t get up from her spot on the bed.

“what are you going to do now…?” her voice was shaky, afraid.

you shrugged. “the same things i have always done. tennis, college, aiming to win a grand slam. nothing much changes.”

except everything else had changed.

–

when you started performing considerably better, returning to the winning ways that everyone doubted you could ever get back to, you noticed more of your critics keeping their mouths shut, and more of the college’s funding being used to support your career. you were handpicked to represent the school for matches, and nobody had to worry about making a bad investment. nine times out of ten, you won. and when you lost, the audience noticed that no rackets were smashed anymore, no longing looks to the first row of the crowds in embarrassment and worry. you simply shook the bad result off, and returned the next round even stronger.

it was almost like a whole new player had been unveiled from the cocoon of what was shrouding her potential.

one night, hours before a match with a veteran player, you were up late in your room throwing a tennis ball against your door and catching it continuously, unable to sleep. it had been exactly six months after your breakup, and you rarely saw natasha around in school. you had heard from one source that she was back with her ex from the basketball team, then another that she was with someone else, then from another that she was with steve rogers, still. it didn’t matter; natasha never had an issue with finding suitors.

you would be lying if you didn’t miss her. some days, you stared into the empty space in your bed that you would often wake her up in on game days, and she would coax you to sleep in on bad days. you missed having someone to celebrate your wins with, even someone to encourage you when you were losing sets and games after. sometimes, you missed her so much that you wondered if it was worth it to even break it off at all, and if you would be happier if you had let her stay by your side.

thwock. distracted, your ball misses the target of your door, and hits the hinge. it ricochets off, and rolls underneath your dresser. you sighed, getting up to retrieve it back. as you bent down to the gap between the dresser and the ground, however, something else greeted you first.

it was a framed photograph of you and natasha, the last one that you had forgotten to pack and return to her. the both of you were at a new year’s eve party, kissing just as the ball dropped for the new year. a tight, restrictive force had found its way around your throat, as you flipped the dusty frame over to find out wishes you had written together to achieve in the new year.

yours had been a stupid one liner: To win a grand slam soon!

natasha’s handwriting was beautiful. your thumb grazed over it lovingly. her wish had made you shut your eyes for a minute after, choking down the feelings it evoked.

To love my girlfriend through it all.

her contact number was left on your phone’s display that night, as you finally fell asleep after contemplating calling her for another hour after that.

–

somewhere between graduation and your career flourishing, you qualified for the Australian Open, and was steadily moving up the rounds. by the time graduation day rolled around, the whole college inevitably knew who you were, and the bright future that awaited you.

natasha watched as you were given a minute or two to thank the college and its tennis department for their support for the past four years. her gaze twinkled in wistful remorse as she clapped the loudest within her section when you thanked the school one final time, and bowed upon receiving your degree.

there was even a mini autograph session at the end, as you laughed bashfully when a group of students crowded around you for pictures and autographs in view of your success in the games. natasha, watching from afar, realised that this was the happiest she had seen you in a while, and swallowed the bitter confrontation that she was not there to be happy with you.

she paced back and forth for a while, contemplating if she should do it, if it was worth it for her to try, but eventually, she worked up the courage to queue a little behind the other students, in hopes of saying a final goodbye to you. it was hard to find an opening, even harder to swallow her jealousy when she sees a girl slipping her number into your gown pocket after taking a picture with you.

but then you saw her, at the back of the crowd, pacing nervously, and your eyes locked. you thought she still looked so cute in her nervousness, and a little sad at seeing her in a gown mirroring yours, but not saying goodbye to college together. you wanted to put the pen and tennis ball you were signing down, and run up to her to scoop her in your arms to tell her you were sorry, and that you wanted her to take you back, but you couldn’t. you couldn’t do any of the sort, not anymore.

instead, natasha then saw you shake your head ever-so-slightly, telling her a silent no. you were telling her not to come any closer, and although she was holding onto something you couldn’t see that she tried to raise up, to tell you that she had wanted to give it to you, you still didn’t have the willpower to let her come over. if she did, it was over for you. you would have folded so easily.

natasha had no choice but to back away. on her way home, she threw the letter she had handwritten over sleepless nights and eyes full of tears, to wish you good luck and goodbye for the last time in your lives, into the trash can by her dorm.

–

game, set, match. and she advances!

incredible, what this player, who, not too long ago, was in the danger zone of not even qualifying for local challenger rounds, is now beating the likes of one of the greatest talents in our generation!

simply amazing. she’s booked herself another round.

you had beaten nearly all of your childhood idols at that point, when the magazines began painting you as tennis’ new prodigy and opponents began asking you to go easy on them before matches. people you never even dreamt of meeting, and then playing against, coming to shake your hand as you beat them round after round. to say you were overwhelmed, and eternally grateful, was an understatement. to become tennis’ next big thing at that stage in your career was something you could have only dreamed of. your career was taking off and the money was rolling in, and naturally, all eyes were on you.

however, the success and fame in your professional career didn’t necessarily translate to one in your personal one, when you found yourself still swiping through potential matches on dating apps, while waiting for your own date in the bathroom. when she returned, she steered the conversation to what you were doing for a living, and you caught yourself from rolling your eyes at the question.

i’m an accountant. i work in real estate. occasionally, you told them, a big data analyst. not a tennis player, never a tennis player. you refused to make the same mistake in your college years over again; you refused to reopen and revisit the scars that natasha left you years ago.

you told this one you were a data analyst, and she had bought it wholeheartedly. but when your drinks finished and more people returned after their days away to the hotel bar, a fan in a cap designed with your initials as the logo audibly gasped when he saw you, and naturally approached for a photo together. your date was taken aback, but you didn’t give her much time to react, placing your arm around her waist and walking the both of you out, under the guise of wanting to walk her home.

it turned out to be an even worse plan, however, when right around where she lived, was the biggest billboard you could have possibly gotten for your campaign with a luxury watch company. your face plastered right where she could see in plain view, she took a moment to look at it, then at you, then at it, then gasping too. you bit your lip and cringed.

“why didn’t you tell me?! god, i’m going out with a celebrity!” she was more ecstatic than you had been after beating your opponent in the round last week.

you shrugged. safe to say there wasn’t a second date after that one.

–

ranking in the top ten of the US Open by then, you were often asked about your relationships and your personal life. it frustrated the media to receive the answer that you were incredibly private, and constantly refused to divulge anything about it.

natasha was watching you on the television one day, and the question arose again. the interviewer had asked who you would credit as the reason for your success after all this while. she must have been in the universe’s favour, or the stars had aligned right at the perfect time, because she caught the very telecast that caught you cracking the little bit of the facade you had built up after college.

you gave the interviewer a polite smile, and she looked like she was ready to give up, prepared to hear about your evasion of the question and request for another. but this time…this time, you indulged, and said, “my ex-girlfriend, from back in college.”

natasha’s world stopped. she immediately screamed for her roommate to stop her singing in the shower, and turned up the volume of the television. the interviewer asked for more details about natasha, you were kind enough to tell her that you didn’t know if natasha was comfortable with being made public, and in respect of her privacy, that she be kept anonymous. the ones who knew, would know.

“and where is she now…? this, wonderful, ex-girlfriend of yours. why is she no longer a girlfriend anymore?”

you looked down for a moment, smiling sadly. “um, i don’t know, honestly. we don’t keep in touch anymore, but i hope that wherever she is, she is happy. and i want her to know that i will always be thankful for what she’s done for me, and that i loved her very much.”

the telecast cut to shots of you signing more caps and tennis balls shortly after. natasha didn’t even realise the steady stream of tears that had been flowing down her cheeks.

she screamed in frustration, and sadness, as she threw the remote forwards, knocking over a row of memorabilia and your tennis merchandise. there were rows and rows of tennis balls, caps, and little racket figurines purchased from your team that natasha had embarrassingly collected, as if having even small, tiny pieces of you was better than having none of you at all. the tennis balls were signed, but bought from resellers that natasha paid too much for, all while glowering with envy that these people, of all people, had the chance to meet you, talk to you, and get a hand-signed ball that they only intended to ever make a quick buck off.

steve had made fun of her once, that instead of spending hundreds for some marker ink on a ball, that she could have picked up the phone and just called you for one instead, but as she told him off for being so dismissive of her feelings, and yours, he quickly cowered in fear after. she didn’t want to disturb your peace, and winning streak, and had unfortunately settled for loving and supporting you from afar.

–

at the final round of the US Open, natasha’s employer had noticed her eyes poring over the office’s large-screen coverage of the grand slam for the past few weeks, and took pity on her, giving her passes to cover the finals on behalf of the company as a reward for all of her ground-breaking pieces for the year. in all of the years natasha had worked there, she had never felt so insurmountably happy, yet bone-crushingly nervous, upon being informed of the news.

it didn’t help that up from where she was, in the tiny box that was her luxury hospitality suite, she had practically a front-row view of your entire match. her eyes followed your hands, as they first shook hands by the net with the opponent, the reigning champion of the previous US Open, as they tightened your laces and prepared themselves for the gruelling match ahead, as they finally picked up the racket.

the last time natasha had watched a game of yours in person was in college. and right then, she was suddenly overwhelmed, with the nostalgia, and awe, that you carried yourself with, upon coming onto the court. your gait and waves had been the same, but the expression on your face, a little older, a little wiser, was now more polite, and less smug, no doubt hammered up by the tons of media training that you had been put through. your stance was even more fierce, and confident, than ever before. and when you played, oh boy, when you played, natasha, much like everyone else, was in a trance. they knew they had just bought tickets for a thriller, whenever you played.

college you and professional you were two different persons on two different sides of the same coin.

thwock. “in!” you dominated the first set.

the ball soared, and soared, and landed. the way you hit it back over the net activated the sensors, even though natasha was confident that her own two eyes saw the ball go over it. the umpire told you that you had touch the net, the crowd booed in disapproval, and you tried reasoning back. his word was final, and natasha had expected you to retort back even more fiercely, with an insult for him at the tip of your tongue, or a spiteful you don’t know how to play tennis that you would spit at him, but there was none of it.

natasha should have known, from all of the matches of you she watched. you had grown up, and matured. and this time, you simply kept your head down, nodded, and returned to position. the point was not yours.

but you dominated the second set. the opponent took the third. and the fourth. it was the last set then.

natasha’s hands were pressed up on the glass, watching you serve. it hit within the line by a few millimetres, but the opponent was just as quick, whacking it straight back, forcing you to a volley. but your feet recovered, and soon enough, you were controlling the pace and momentum of the game. it became apparent who was going to be the clear winner of the day.

thwock. when the final serve, the serve that mattered most to the both of you, and was a match point, was raised, natasha felt her eyes widening as it hit the racket, and travelled incredibly slowly to your side of the court. you raised your racket, expression set to hit it back, when suddenly, she saw it. the crack of a smile.

you lowered the racket. the ball was out. you had officially won the US Open.

natasha remembered screaming, jumping, pumping her fists in the air. she must have looked like a mad woman, being the only journalist to be celebrating like a diehard fan up in that box, but she didn’t care. none of them knew you like she did, none of them would ever know you like she did.

she thought that for a moment, you had looked up to her then, finding her in the crowd and making eye contact. her breath caught in her throat, but just as quickly, you looked away, and allowed the crowd to sing in your praises. it must have been a figment of natasha’s imagination.

a/n: sorry it got a bit too long, i might just consider a part 3 now hehe. but it looks like R is not the only one down bad for the other. who do you think has it worse for the other between these two?

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #marvel cinematic universe #tennis player! reader #challengers #forty love #natasha romanoff x tennis player! reader

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etheries1015 · 6 months

Text

Imagining Yuu being Lillias as first and last love.

Let's say he was gravely injured during the war, and you, a human, had snuck him away to tend to his wounds. (I like to imagine this in a scenario where in chapter 7 when they meet Lilia in the 'dream world', he retains those memories, only for it to loop back to the modern day, less than a reincarnation.)

You, knowing Lilia from NRC and being enamored with him for so long, obviously had no choice but to help their fae....friend. When he became gravely injured during a particularly difficult battle, He awakes and is immediately on guard. He never really trusted you and the others who suddenly came face to face with him, two humans, a beastman, and a fae-human hybrid. You were all suspicious to him, yet he couldn't help but feel a ting of familiarity in his heart the second his eyes met yours. He knew, by some force, you were different than the other humans; you were kind, caring, and worked on your lonesome rather than a group.

"Are you okay? Do your wounds hurt? I can change your bandages If you'd like. You have been out for only a few hours..." You pursed your lips, hands hesitating over his injured waist, "But...I understand if you rather me leave now. I just wanted to make sure you would be okay, you really took a hard hit."

He just stared at you with wide eyes and a rapidly beating heart. He came to realize you were truly no threat, and he honestly, owed you his life. He never thought he'd see the day; General Lilia Vanrouge allowing a human tend to his needs, he frankly felt rather pathetic at the notion of this being affecting him as much as they had. Since the moment they arrived at his camp, he knew you were trouble for his heart.

"There 's...no need," Lilia said, sitting up slightly grasping his covered wound with one hand and holding his other out for you to set the spare bandages to him. You nodded slightly and handed it to him, turning around and starting to walk out. Before you had reached the door, Lilia called out to you.

"Human," He said, causing you to turn around in surprise and tilt your head with anticipation of his next words, "Why...why aren't you like the other humans? Are you not betraying them by helping your enemy?" You sighed and shook your head, chuckling at a question that seemed obviously ridiculous to you. Your reaction had caused Lilia to furrow his eyebrows and frown.

"Because I have... a lot of love for everyone," You finally said, looking up with the most serene, sincere, and peaceful gaze he had ever seen, "I love Humans, I love Fae, I love beastmen...and.." You blushed slightly, "I love you, too." The general couldn't wrap his head around it- your comments seemed utterly ridiculous to him- you hadn't known him for long at all, it seemed you two had only met for a couple days at best and here you were already admitting your affections for the fae? Despite this fact, he could tell by your unwavering stance and confident voice, that you were not lying. He simply replied with a nod and dismissed you with a wave of his hand as he had done so with many of his subordinates, muttering a quick thank you before you exited the hut.

Lilia stared down at his hands where the bandages you handed him lay, his cheeks taken a rosy tint. The red-eyed Fae shook his head and wiped his brow beaded with sweat, scoffing in disbelief. Did he just fall for a human...? A human he hadn't even known for long yet felt like he knew a lifetime, at that, over some silly hopeful words? He couldn't deny the way his heartbeat sped up at your kindness, your gentle touch tingling across the skin you cared for, and his ears begging to hear more of your mellifluous voice. Taking a deep sigh, he felt a deep rooted resolve force him to stand upon his feet and chase after you- his heart yearning to learn more about this mysterious human that had somehow shaken him to his core.

However, he never could find you after that.

Queue modern time.

Lilia had well after a while understood he would never be able to find that human- he knew after decades you must have wound up dead. Yet he couldn't shake the feeling that you were around, somehow, somewhere, alive and living a happy life- yet he had no proof you were either dead or alive. He didn't particularly look very hard, either. You had given him conflicting emotions that he had never experienced before, yes, but he knew he had a duty to attend to. There were indeed nights where he re-played your words over and over again- eventually bringing him to his resolve of peace between humans and fae and finding solace in the idea of loving all creatures for what they were, just had you did for him when you saved his life with reckless abandon.

So the moment he lay eyes upon you when you stumbled upon NRC, he had the same exact feeling all those years ago rushing back to him all at once, as if he had been hit by a sudden train of emotions. His heart thumped and the sound of blood rushing overtook him overwhelmingly- There was no way, right? The human who saved him must have been long dead by then. It couldn't possibly be...

Then you said your name.

You had the same name, the same unwavering confident eyes, the same serene peace that he felt wash over him in that little hut during the years of war. He wasn't sure how, if this person who suddenly came to NRC was a long distant relative of that person, or if there was something else going on beyond his comprehensive skills. You were alive, your voice as beautiful and mysterious as you were all those years ago. He spent a considerable amount of time studying you, being by your side, trying to put together the puzzle piece by piece. Yet he surprised himself- he never knew, even at his old age, he could feel such vibrant emotions as strongly and just as beautifully as the first time he laid eyes upon you. He felt like that young general again- passionate, young, and this time without animosity and war to get in the way of his curiosity.

Perhaps it was old age getting the better of him making his mind warped into believing he had some sort of magical entity on his side bringing you back to him, or his old heart yearning for something he had never had before and had deeply regretted never experiencing; love. Whatever was going on, Lilia knew one thing for certain;

He would not let his chance slip away this time.

#lilia x reader #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfics #Lilia vanrouge #lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #general lilia #general lilia x reader #twst lilia #twst lilia x reader

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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months

Text

talk to me

words: 800

warnings: addiction, breaking sobriety, drinking/doing drugs, established relationship

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450

you can tell from the moment you pick up the phone that something is wrong. rafe’s breathing is so loud that it’s being picked up, coming through your phone speaker.

“rafe, baby?” you ask, but all you here is his panting in response.

“rafe, talk to me. what’s wrong?”

“i’m sorry.” rafes voice is gruff, it sounds like he’s been screaming.

“sorry? sorry for what rafe? tell me whats wrong.” you plead, feeling tears form in your eyes. you hate being away from rafe, you know that he hates it even more than you, especially now that he’s sober. he used to just get drunk or high the entire time until you were back, but you hated coming back to a strung out rafe, and you knew it wasn’t healthy.

“i’ve been drinking.” rafe says, and you hear the slight slur in his words.

“rafe-” you stand up, already beginning to pack. you don’t need to hear anything else. you know drinking isn’t the worst thing, but for rafe, the drinking will only ever lead to drugs, and he’s been clean for so long “i’m coming home baby. where are you?”

“our house.” he says, and you hear him fumbling with something in the background, and then a crash. it sounds like glass breaking.

“rafey baby, can you go lay down in bed, yeah?” you ask, grabbing your purse and suitcase. you’d text your girlfriends from the car on the way back home to rafe. you thought that he was good enough for you to go on a spa weekend away with the girls. you made sure it was one that was less than an hour away that way you could get home quickly.

“i’m gonna go sit outside.” “okay, i’m heading to the car right now.” you were supposed to head home in the morning anyways, so you have no issue leaving the night before, knowing your girlfriends won’t mind.

“talk to me.” you say as you get in your car, starting it up. “talk to me, rafey.” “i went to the store. i bought whiskey. i fucked up baby, i know that.” “it’s okay, honey.” you swing your car onto the highway, glad that theres no cars so you can speed, praying no cops are sitting hidden.

“and now i’m making you come home because i can’t fucking do it. god, i’m the worst boyfriend.” “not at all, rafey. you make me feel so loved. you take care of me. that’s what you’re meant to do as my boyfriend and that’s what i’m doing for you as your girlfriend. i’m taking care of you.” “i’m so tired.” rafe says. “i just want to do a bump.” “rafe, keep talking.” you say, tears blurring your vision. “i’m coming home to you right now, stay strong for me okay.”

you get rafe to continue talking as you drive home, going at least 20 miles over the speed limit the entire way. you haphazardly park when you get back home, running through the house to find rafe on the balcony.

“i’m home.” you kneel down in front of him, heart breaking at how spaced out he looks. “i’m home, rafe.” rafe lets out a choked sob, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pitching forward. you shush him gently as he cries, rubbing your hand up and down his back.

“lets go to bed, yeah?” you ask after a moment.

“i hate myself.” rafe mumbles, but accepts your help standing up. you guide him inside, not even worried about shutting the doors behind you, just focused on getting him upstairs and in bed.

“you have to break up with me.” rafe says, feet slowly shuffling down the hallway. “im going to ruin your life-” you ignore his words, blocking out whatever he was saying as you steer him into your bedroom.

“rafe, stop please.” you cut him off from continuing to speak. “i’m not going anywhere. we can talk in the morning when you have a clearer head, okay?”

rafe nods, leaning forward and pressing his lips to your forehead. “i’m so glad you’re home.” “me too.” you press your face into his chest before pulling away to tug the blankets down, watching as rafe flops down, his head immediately lolling to the side. you sit down on the bed, stroking over his hair as you watch for his breathing to change, only standing up when you are sure that he is asleep.

you gather everything on your bedside table that rafe will need in the morning, finishing it off with a tall glass of water. you’ve learned from his previous binges what he needs, you’re just relieved all he did this time was drink.

you finally get to climb into bed, sighing deeply as your head hits the pillow. you move closer to rafe until your body is pressed up against his.

rafe mumbles something you can’t make out and turns, resting his head against your chest. you smile and wrap your arms around him, holding him close, knowing this is what he needs at this moment.

“i love you.” rafe whispers.

“i love you too.” you press a kiss to the top of his head. “i love you and i’m gonna be here for you no matter what, don’t you forget that.”

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron angst #rafe angst #rafe imagine

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dearharriet · 3 months

Note

could i request james potter x reader where james discovers reader’s small “j.f.p.” tattoo on her hip and he’s like !!! obsessed :D<3 ofc only if u feel like writing it love u 🦌

this is such a cute ideaaa !! ty for the request my darling, I hope you’re well! (wc: 860) (cw: non-sexual nudity)

You’d gotten it while James was away on a trip with friends. Not exactly a whim-of-the-moment thing, but neither was it entirely planned. You knew you wanted him on you somewhere, sometime, and then Marlene asked you to accompany her for a septum piercing…

The rest fell into place. There was a small postcard in your pocket that you’d pulled from your mailbox, with James’ scratchy handwriting detailing his excursions and how much he missed you. At the bottom, he’d signed his initials, and that was what you gave the artist for reference.

There was a week of marveling at it afterwards, tracing over it with your fingertips every time your shirt lifted and wondering what James would say. If he had come home a couple days earlier, you might’ve gone with your heart and shown him right away, but he didn’t.

So when James barreled through the door of your shared apartment, towing bags and gifts, you stayed silent.

The two of you had dinner, sat down for a movie that you didn’t watch. James described the whole trip and rubbed your feet and told you he missed you. You knew you couldn’t keep the tattoo a secret, but you couldn’t will yourself to bring it up, either.

Later in the night, when only your bedroom lamps were on anymore, James came back from the shower in a skimpy towel wrap.

“Babylove, I don’t think getting dressed is in the cards for me tonight.”

You were laying on the bed, one arm under your smooshed face and the other hanging limp over the side.

James went to the dresser, smiling at your drowsy eyes and kicking feet. You murmured something like ‘good’ before he dropped his towel.

“Yeah, good,” he teased, tugging a pair of boxers on.“‘Cept I think we oughtta even the playing field here.”

Curiously, you flipped onto your back to see James better. He was in the middle of crawling onto the bed, hands and knees on each side of your legs.

“What are we evening?”

At your waist, James smiled up at you, hands leaving the bed to sweep under your night shirt.

“Oh,” you breathed, and then lifted your arms and allowed him to tug it off. You glanced furtively to the waistband of your sleep shorts, catching the sliver of ink peeking out of the top before James’ hands were there.

“Y’okay bird?”

Looking up, you met James’ careful eyes, nodding your express approval. His lips twisted, and then his needling fingers retreated from your shorts to soothe up your waist.

“Yeah? Sure?” he asked, and you put your hands in his hair to reassure him, somewhat pressed for words. “So quiet.”

“Sorry,” you managed, hands venturing over his shoulders. “Just missed you.”

You felt the truth of that curling in your belly, and James must’ve seen it on your face. Smiling wide, he swooped in to plant a sloppy kiss on your cheek. “You too.”

A second kiss on the opposite cheek, and then he was back to business undressing you.

You sucked a breath in as the elastic pulled and slid down your hips, and the whole mass of scribbles caught light. James’ eyes were on your face, your hair all fanned out, but when he sat back to toss the shorts they traveled south and—

He froze. You can’t say for how long, but it felt an eternity, your breath held tight in your chest. When your body caught up with itself and exhaled, James’ name tumbled out with it, questioning and nervous.

His eyes flicked up to you for less than a second, a sliver of acknowledgment before he’d glued his eyes on the tattoo again. Something was swimming behind his expression, and you couldn’t gauge if it was bad or good.

“Jamie,” you said again, squirming, “please say something.”

With one finger, James traced the loops and turns of his own handwriting on your skin, swallowing dryly.

“Baby,” he finally spoke, a cloying ache in his voice. “Baby.”

Finally catching your gaze again, James just gawked at you with the awe of ten men. He was touching you, absently, reverently, which you figured was a good sign.

Not quite knowing what to say, you let him work out his thoughts, staying very still.

“This is real?” You nodded, and James’ lashes fanned over his cheeks as he gave it yet another look. Then, with a spoonful of disbelief he asked, “When?”

Hips shifting a bit under him, you said, “while you were away. It’s from your letter.”

“I know what it’s from,” James assured you. “I just can’t believe…”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, beckoning James’ attention.

“If you don’t like it, Jamie, I really want you to tell me. I won’t be offended.”

James shook his head ardently.

“I really love it, bird. Really truly. I just can’t fathom how lovely you are.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from cheesing, and James’ lips curled up too, a mirror of yours.

“Though,” he said, finally settling himself on top of you, “if I’d known that’s where my signature was going, I’d have signed my full name.”

thank u for reading! xx

#james potter #jams <3 #marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #marauders fluff #james fleamont potter #james potter blurb #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter drabble #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #harry potter #request

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lure-of-writing · 3 months

Text

Kick your ass

Note: Hi everybody long time no see! I would assume that is doesn't come as a surprise when I say being a flight attendant leaves no room for writing much less doing anything else but sleeping but here we are after what I'm sure can be counted as forever. Anyways I feel like this story is when your partner just isn't getting it right and it's driving you crazy and you get a little ( or a lot) sassy. I'm so happy to have finally written something in so long and I hope you love it!

Word count-2.3K

Warnings- none unless you count cussing

Summary: Lately all your mate does is piss you off. And don't get it wrong you love him but you are more than ready to kick his ass.

You love Azriel with all of your heart, your whole being if you're being completely honest but lately he has done nothing but piss you off. It first started with him going on a mission during the middle of your cycle. Since the moment you knew Azirel was your mate you gave clear explicit instructions that Azriel was to be no more than five feet away from you during that time of the year unless it was for something of the utmost importance and could not be handled by anyone else. Imagine your surprise when he started grabbing his leather clothing after he had made you breakfast and had gotten you comfortable in your bed that could fit three grown Illyrian men.

“And just where do you think you're going?” Azriel could feel like distaste dripping off of your words and hitting him in the back as he was faced away from you. It was no secret that Azriel loved you more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy but when you were on your period you could be a handful and more often than not you tested his never ending patience until you actually found the end of its supply. With a slow release of his breath he turns around to find you perched on the edge of the bed throwing an angry glare in his direction. “Listen baby” the shadowsinger slowly approached you like you were a wild animal ready to strike at any moment and honestly that comparison isn’t too far off with the way you look like you're ready to rip his head off of his shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to, yeah?” he kneels before you gently rubbing comforting circles on your bare thigh while giving you a soft smile reserved for only you. “Is the information you retrieve from this mission of that great value?” he watched as you paused waiting for the answer that both he and you already knew. “Is there no one else beneath you who could do it instead?” And while yes there were people beneath him that could handle this task, Azriel is a perfectionist and would like to make sure things get done right. “Is it so important that you must leave your mate during their cycle knowing the excruciating pain I endure? It's so important you must put this before your mate?”

Azriel knew this conversation was a losing battle on his end but he also knew if he would like to be able to sleep next to you tonight that he must offer something to make up for it. “No my love, there isn’t anyone else who can handle this as they are all busy at the moment but don’t worry I will be back before dinner.” Even as you glowered down at him all the shadowsinger could think about was two things. One, he is definitely in trouble and two, how stunning you look. “I don’t care if no one else can do it, get that brute of your brother to handle it.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way as if to send Cassian on this mission yourself and Azriel couldn’t help but lay his head on your legs and laugh and your attitude.

The next time Azriel made you mad was during a family dinner with the inner circle. At first with all the new people, family dinners were a little awkward and unbearable mostly due to Cassians pinning over Nesta and her constant blatant rejection but also because of the middle sister's fascination with your mate. Did she know he was your mate? Yes. Did that stop her from having a crush? Absolutely not.

As you were getting ready to head down to Feyres and Rhysands new house you had made it clear he needed to put his foot down and tell Elain he was not and would never be interested in a relationship with her otherwise you would handle it yourself and Azriel knew that meant you would become your own nasiter version of Nesta and you would tear her down until she couldn’t even look you in the eyes. It may not be the best way to handle her crush but until Azriel when it came to dealing with people who had a crush on him you tended to leave your manners at the door.

Everything was going well at the river house until you walked into the dinning room with Amren and spot your mate seated next to Elain on one side and Mor on the other side. The whole group could feel the shift in the temperature as it dropped and you gave a cold and pointed stare to your mate. Possessing the same powers as Rhysand you barged into his mind “What the hell is this?” without responding he gently shakes his head in a not right here manner and pleading with his eye for you to just let this go. Silently you take your seat across the table from him and sit next to your high lady and Amren. For the rest of the dinner you say nothing as your pin Azriel to his seat as your seething anger radiates off of you and hits him like a tidal wave over and over again never once giving him a break.

“Y/n” Azriel had waited until after you had taken your bath and done your fifteen step skin and body care route and had gotten into bed with your current book you picked to read before approaching you. He gently sat down on the bed next to your legs and hopped you don;t make him sleep on the couch tonight. “I know you're upset with what happened at dinner but it just happened one minute I was talking with Mor and the next Elain was ushering us all in to eat dinner and she just happened to sit next to me.” As he gave his explanation of the night's events you had closed your book and laid it in your lap and nodded silently in understanding waiting for your mate to be done talking. “Is that so?” you asked in a thoughtful way. Now Azriel has been with you long enough to know that tone of voice and that statement should strike the fear of every god into him and it definitely did. “Yes, I promise that's what happened.” Once again you nodded in understanding before tilting your head to the side with a confused look on your face. “So if that's all that happened then why would Elain feel comfortable sitting next to you knowing that you have a mate who cannot stand her crush on you? And didn’t I tell you to make sure Elain knew in no uncertain terms that her fantasy of having a relationship with you was nothing more than a fantasy and if she tried I would kill her?” Azriels heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to you talk, he had known that there was something he needed to do but as soon as he entered the house Cassian gave him a cup of a mysterious alcohol and Rhysand had beckoned him over to fill him in on the status of a mission one of his spies were on. And before he knew it Morrgian had whisked him away to talk about her journey on the continent and the information she had obtained while there and the next thing he knew he was sat between the girl he used to have a crush on and the girl who currently has a crush on him. Candidly he knew he was fucked.

“Let's go with your version of events like you said they happened shall we? I am going to assume you got too busy with everyone to tell Elain to knock off her childish behavior, which you would have done in a much nicer way because you are you. Then why didn’t you say anything to her when I walked in or better yet why didn’t you get up to sit next to me instead?” As a professional interrogator your mate knew you had just walked him into a trap and for a split second he wondered why you didn’t have his job instead. “Baby you know both of those options would have been rude and probably would have ruined the dinner.” Nodding in fake understanding you inspect your nails giving it a brief second before responding “And you are the shadowsinger of the night court. One of the most feared males in Prythian and you couldn’t muster up the courage to say something to Elain? How ironic is that.” You scoffed and shook your head in a surprised manner and needless to say he ended up sleeping on the couch that night.

The last straw was watching Azriel train the valkyries and watching them not so subtly drool over your mate. You wouldn’t be one to blame them if they had done so in a respectful way but they were bluntly flirting with your mate right in front of you. One thing you loved about Azriel was how secure he was in your relationship. No one could make him look in the direction that wasn’t you, if someone was trying to flirt with him he didn’t register it unless it was you. And normally you wouldn’t have a problem with that except three girls were currently trying to make a pass at him and he had no reaction. Most would take that in a positive way but not you, you wanted him to shut that down the second it started and make a clear line in the sand on what was expected from the student-teacher relationship amongst him and the Valkyries he was training. “Azriel!” You had barely shouted his name from across the training platform on the house of wind but it felt as if you had. He turned around to see you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest and face set in a scowl while glaring at him. Turing to look at the trainees before him he instructs them on what to do next before quickly making his way to you. “Yes my love?” he asks in such a hushed and concerned tone that you almost forget what you called him over to yell at him about, but over his shoulder you see one of the girls check him out and suddenly you remembered all over again what it was that you needed to speak to him about. “You need to tell your students to stop checking you out and to close their mouths before they start drooling all over themselves.” Your mate's face scrunched in confusion. Azriel may be an excellent observer but when it came to himself not so much. He couldn’t see his own beauty that was hand crafted from the gods themselves, he couldn;t see how his quiet and standoffish personality drew people in, he couldn't see all of the things that you loved about him could all be the reason that other people lust after him.

His shadows gave him a play by play of what his students had been doing while he wasn’t focused on each person in particular and how you had been brewing in your anger in the corner by yourself. As soon as you put on your fighting leathers this morning Azriel knew he was doomed as it was your ritual to fight each other everyday during training but seeing you in the corner pissed that other people had been checking him out brought his demise to a whole nother level. Azriel subtly glanced down at where your arms were crossed over your chest and he thanked the gods for your outfit. “You sound a little upset, my love.” Once more you send him one of your signature pointed looks “Yeah you would be upset also if the roles were reversed.” He shrugs slightly while tilting his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his body. “You’re not wrong I would be upset because nobody gets to look at you that way unless it's me.” He pulls you even closer to his body until you’re chest to chest with him and he bends down to whisper in your ear. “Beat me in a match and I will make sure they know I’m no one else's but yours. I'll let you claim me anyway you want, hell I’ll even let you do it in front of them if that will make you feel better.” Both you and Azriel knew the game he was playing at but neither of you cared, well him less than you. You pulled away slightly to look up at your mate and see the smirk resting upon his very kissable looking lips “Sounds like a deal to me because I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.”

The shadowsinger followed behind you with a laugh and he shook his head in amusement while taking in your figure from behind. He watched as you got into your fighting stance and waited for him to do the same. He held his hand up to signal you to give him a moment. Turning around to look at the Valkyries in training he gathered their attention without saying a word. “I think it's about time to see what the last remaining real valkyrie looks light during a fight and maybe then you can aspire to be a fraction of as good as my beautiful mate is.” He turned back around to see you glowing with confidence, determination and love, but also the want to make sure you won his bet. Gods he knew this was going to lead to some great sex after you kicked his ass and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more.

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger

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writingsbychlo · 1 year

Text

UNWIND | azriel

summary; azriel is caught up in his head, and needs to fuck out his frustrations with the woman he loves.

word count; 8543

notes; I can’t tell if this is hot or pure shit so lmk because this is a little more than my usual smut levels. also, this is a vague follow up to ‘focus’ but very very loosely. can totally be read as a stand-alone fic.

The lights were flickering in the halls as you walked along, the steady bursts of uncontrolled power bursting throughout the House of Wind, thrumming like an irrational heartbeat. The closer you got, the stronger the pulses became, the more frequent the flickering was, and the thicker the air seemed to get.

You’d known Azriel for decades now, long enough to have seen these moods before. It wasn’t the worst one, not by far, nothing compared to the night Rhysand found himself trapped, or Feyre was taken back to Spring. Nonetheless, it didn’t make it any better.

Cassian had fled after dinner with Nesta in his arms, the Townhouse looking like a very appealing prospect to visit for the night, and you knew that even though the ripples of his errant power never reached as low as the library, even the priestesses would be on lockdown from Azriel’s mood tonight.

He’d never lay a finger on anyone, he never had, but it didn’t make the tumbling stones shaken loose from the mountainside any less scary, or the mass of writhing shadows and rage any friendlier.

It felt like plunging your head under water as you stood outside of his bedroom door; breath held, utter silence thick around your ears, heart beating so hard it was resonating audibly inside your skull. When your fist tapped against the wood, you barely heard the echo. A steady thrum of power was all you got in response. A warning, a threat, a question of who had dared come close, you weren’t sure.

No more came.

The bursts of power seemed to simmer, to become like a crawling, bubbling mess, so close to boiling over, spitting around your feet instead of steady pulses. The door finally creaked open, when you’d just about given up, wood scraping across the stone tiles to reveal the chaotic darkness inside.

As soon as you had cleared the entrance, the door slammed shut behind you. Only through the flickers of wild shadows could moonlight filter through, all of the lights on but none of the glow reaching you, and it was only by the one velvety shadow curling affectionately around your wrist that you were able to find any guidance through the onyx tornado at all.

The shadow at your wrist dipped down, twirling between your fingers like the phantom touch of another’s hand in your own, leading you in slow stumbles through the room. The cold of the night hit you before any moonlight did, and it was only when you stumbled through the streams of shadows like a curtain that your lungs let you take a deep breath once again.

Chilled, cold air wrapped around you like a blanket, bursting through your senses and renewing your mind once again. The touch at your wrist slipped away, a rogue tendril that rejoined the frenzy now that you were safely through the storm, and Azriel stood before you. Hunched at the waist, forearms braced on the stone balcony railing as he stared out at the endless distance.

He was tense, built like stone and mountains, walls of solid muscle pulled so taut that his wings didn’t even touch the ground. His bare feet clung to the stone, skin pebbled in goosebumps everywhere except his covered legs, swirls of ink over his shoulders disappearing into the night sky.

Tonight, Azriel wasn’t as flirty as he normally was. Tonight, he’d shut down entirely. That line that had been crossed weeks ago in the training ring felt like a million years ago now as he shut you out. He was so caught up in his own head that you weren’t even sure if he knew you were here.

“Azriel?”

An answer to your question, as he jumped in shock, straightening to his full height, and twisting to face you. His eyes were dull and yet burning with rage, face contorted into a frown that you weren’t used to. Normally, he offered you a sweet smile, a smirk or a wink. A soft kiss to your forehead or cheek, a brush of one scarred finger over your blushing cheeks.

None of it came now.

“What are you doing here?”

You swallowed thickly, throat like sandpaper as you tried to form a response, to form words under the ire of his glare, but refusing to back down. He may be terrifying to the world, but he was the world to you. “Your shadow came when I knocked. I assumed you sent it to open the door.”

His gaze flickered angrily over his shoulder, like in the swirling mass he’d be able to pick out the traitor precisely, a snarl on his lips before he was looking back to you. “I didn’t. You shouldn’t be here.”

It was a dismissal, one he punctuated by turning his back on you and resuming his lean against the railing, breath clouding in the air as he let out a world-weary sigh. “Azriel…”

“Did you not just hear me?” His fingers clenched on the stone, so firmly that his knuckles turned white. The mountains practically shook again with his shout; “Leave!”

That power thrummed out again, heavy bursts that hummed over the building and rattled the glass windows as you stepped closer, flares of glittering blue from his siphons where they sat in a pile, useless to the rippling power now on a table beside him. Daring to take another step closer, he stiffened again.

You moved, closer and closer until you were within reaching distance, the space between you both swallowed up, but you didn’t dare to touch him. His wings twitched on either side of your body, tightening in like they did when he was preparing for a fight. Instead of reaching out, you cleared your throat softly, letting him know just where you were behind him.

He growled, turning slowly, cautious to ensure that no part of him touched any part of you, and the air was all but crackling with unshed tension around you. Insults, curses, harsh words were conveyed in his gaze, everything in an attempt to get you to leave that he had yet to say.

Before he could say any of them, you raised your hands slowly, making sure he could track every movement as his eye widened, like taming a beast instead of a man. When your palms settled over his cheeks, the preternatural stiffness and stillness he’d taken on melted, his shoulders began to slump, like he was being dragged down into the very earth itself, even as he still towered over you.

“Az, sweetheart…”

Still, he did not touch you. Even as the anger in his eyes only softened to pain, and the clench of his fists smoothed his hands out from fists by his sides. “You shouldn’t be here.” It wasn’t a threat this time, but instead was a plea, begging you to leave with a tenderness you were familiar with from him.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” You murmured, voice unable to reach above a whisper in fear of shattering the fragile peace. Sweeping your thumbs over his cheekbones, his throat bobbed, eyes held steady with your own. “Let me be here for you.”

“You can’t be here, because I’m not okay. If I hurt you, I don’t think I could ever forgive myself.”

Your heart shattered at the admission, his shadows pulling in closer and closer to you both, no longer afraid of their master but seeking to comfort, a blanket wrapping around the both of you at the base of your legs.

You didn’t reply verbally, instead, you gave him every chance to pull away, to stop it, as you leaned up, taking your time as you rose, until the breath was shared between you both, his steady breaths now shallow pants.

Your lips met his jaw first, just to the left of his chin, a soft kiss that wasn’t nearly enough. Another just a fraction higher, and another, until your lips were pressed to his cheek and he was letting out a shaky breath by your ear.

“Baby…”

“Do you really want me to leave, Az?” Your lip skimmed over his, reciprocated by his pucker but you didn’t give into it just yet, sliding one hand to the back of his neck and the other up over his cheek. Slipping your thumb between your mouths, you stoked over his lips once, his haze fixed. “Tell me you don’t want me here and I’ll go. But, I don’t want you to be alone, when I’m here for you if you want me. I’ll always be here for you.”

The message was clear, and you gave him a single and fleeting kiss to his lips, tearing away from his space and falling back to the flats of your feet. One step back, just enough to think.

Your foot lifted, never making it as far as a second step away, before he was finally reaching out. His hands gripped at your hips, yanking you forward roughly until you were falling into his body, colliding with cold skin and solid walls of muscle.

“I don’t want you to go. I just want you here with me. I always want you here with me.” The confession sounded like it pained him, hoarse on a throat yelled raw already, the Azriel you know fighting the darkness enough to break through to you for a moment. “I don’t know if I’m ready to show you this part of myself, I don’t want you to be scared of me. I can’t lose you.”

The hands settled on your hips flexed, like he was trying to be gentler but they came back just as tight, spaces where there would be bruises in the morning. He’d tried so hard to resist touching you at all, but now, you weren’t sure you’d be able to break free even if you wanted to.

Tracing your arms over his arms, back up to hold his face, this time, he tipped into your touch, lashes fluttering shut for just a second as he sucked in a breath.

“You don’t scare me, Azriel. No part of you scares me. Not your shadows, not your knives, not your moody scowl. I know every part of you, I care for every part of you. This isn’t about me, I’m not the one in need.” You weren’t sure what had happened in Hewn City, only that it must’ve been bad. Whatever he’d seen, whatever he couldn't stop, it was dragging him down into despair and rage. “So, tell me, do you want me to stay or do you want me to go?”

His forehead came down, leaning on your own. “I want you to stay.”

Your noses bumped, a smile forming on your lips as he nuzzled in as close to you a she could get, his arms wrapping around you and holding you firmly to his chest, until your heartbeats echoed together. “You didn’t come to dinner. I was worried about you. Maybe we should get you some food?”

“I don’t want to eat,” He whispered, the words like ice over you as the softness dropped from his tone once again, the wild animal rampaging in his mind taking over once again. One hand was sliding up from your waist now, loose enough to travel over the expanse of your body, across your torso and over your breasts until his fingers were flexing once again, but this time around your throat.

In one swift movement, you were being spun, back pressing into the unforgiving stone of the wall railing, cold spreading along your skin as your shirt rose behind you. His eyes were darker now, the pretty caramel shade you loved so much almost swallowed entirely by the dark, his lips forming an equally dark smirk to match. But he waited, he was like a predator waiting for the prey to give permission to be hunted.

And you did.

A single nod was all it took, until he was surging forwards, lips crashing into your own, a kiss so urgent and fierce that the breath was knocked from your lungs. The implication was clear, everything about Azriel was an open book tonight, unlike his usual way of hiding his emotions.

He didn’t want gentle, he didn��t need soft. What Azriel needed most was to let out this energy, to use it for something other than self-destruction and hatred, to burn off every angry part of himself in a way that would make him feel good. He’d once told you that your mind was unfocused, on everything but where it needed to be, and he’d helped you clear it with his fingers between your legs.

His mind needed the opposite, needed to let go of what he was clinging to, to release it. He didn’t need to focus, he needed to let it all go. Perhaps a mindblowing orgasm would do the same for him.

His lips were unyielding against your own, a scrape of his teeth over your lower lip until you yelped, and his tongue plunged into your mouth at the opening. The hand on your neck flexed, your whimpers cut off by his lips and you had no chance at all, drowning in everything front he feel of him to the taste of him. Stolen kisses had nothing on this, this crescendo of overdue emotions and pent-up feelings, and despite it all, there was still a reverence underneath that told you your Azriel was fighting all the while to hold onto you.

Through every gasping breath you managed to take between assaults of his lips, you got less and less oxygen, vision spotting until you felt almost delirious from the burn of your lungs. When his hand loosened just fractionally, his mouth torn from your own only to leave wet marks across your jaw and neck, you heaved in breath while you had the chance.

“Azriel, let me touch you. Let me help you, make you feel good…”

“Oh, you’ll make me feel good, baby. Don’t worry about that.” His voice was sharp and lethal, like a blade slicing across your skin where he mumbled it into the juncture of your neck. His teeth followed, a bite on your skin, your head tossed, back arching until you were dangling over the balcony, his hand at your neck all that kept you stable.

You were on the tips of your toes, bared for the man he pulled back, licking over kiss-swollen lips and using a half-lidded gaze to take you in.

“So fucking beautiful. Inside and out. So kind and sweet and godsdamned perfect. All for me.” He whispered, your heart skipping a beat in your throat because, despite the fire in his gaze, there was honey in his voice. “I hate myself for how much I want to fucking ruin you.”

“I want nothing more than that,” Your promise made his head snap up, his admiration and longing taken over by raw desire and anticipation. Once furrowed brows smoothed out, relaxing enough for him to raise one in solitary judgement.

“You’re going to regret saying that, sweetheart.” Unlike when you’d said it, the pet name was laced with venom and rough promises, coated in something that made your skin break out with a shudder once again. He closed in on you, even closer, until your toes were hardly touching the floor at all, dangling at his mercy entirely as he hummed to himself, eyes scanning along you as he considered to himself just how he wanted to proceed. “I bet you’d do anything I asked of you right now, wouldn't you? Would you get down on your knees for me, pretty girl?”

“Yes.”

“Would you let me fuck your pretty mouth until I was satisfied?” Your legs clamped together, one of his fingers dragging your lower lip down, biting his own eagerly, before he was slipping two fingers into your mouth, cutting your answer off. His smirk told you he already knew the words you’d have uttered, anyway. “Show me. Show me how good you’d be if it were my cock in there, instead.”

Your lips sealed around his fingers, your tongue dragging along marred and ridged skin within your mouth, as far as you could go until your eyes watered and you were suppressing the urge to gag. His lips parted, gaze fixed on where his digits disappeared between your lips, the thrill of it sending a shock of electricity down your spine, coiling at the base of your stomach with hot need.

The look on his face was nothing short of worship, even if he was in control, you still held the power.

Lapping at the skin, you grazed your teeth lightly over his knuckles as you pulled back, his soft growl your only clue of his reaction before bobbing your head back down again. Before you could repeat the motion, however, he was tugging his fingers back, a wet pop and a trail of saliva snapping, and the hand on your throat tightened to lift your head up for him again. Your sights clashed, and he already looked about as ruined as you felt.

He was shaking with need, you could see the vibrations in his shoulders, the hum of the occasional shadow that darted up high enough to dance over his shoulders, before joining the pool at your waists.

Those two wet fingers dragged down, a shock of coldness over your bare skin before his fingers were snapping the elastic of your leggings against your hips. He only chuckled at your gasp, before his hand was dipping under this time, fingers teasing down between your legs until he was dragging a moan from you at the featherlight touch over your clit.

“Oh, look at that. You didn’t need to get my fingers all wet for me after all, you’re fucking dripping for me.” Swirling two digits through the wetness already accumulated, your head fell back, a whimper of his name carried away on the winds.

“You once told me that I was too in my head. You helped me focus, just like this. Let me help you unfocus now. Let me touch you, let me make you feel good.” One hand gripped at his forearm around your throat, gentle but firm, holding you secure where you all but balanced over the edge. The other reached for his hand, hidden under your leggings and the swirl of shadows as he dipped one finger into your core, sinking it slowly into you. “Az…”

“Making you feel good, sweetheart, watching you come undone is what’s going to help me. I want you to scream my name so loud I can’t hear any of the bad thoughts, just you.” As he spoke, he pulled his touch back, only to snap back in with both fingers instead of one, and your back arched again with a cry of his name.

Again and again, his fingers dragged over every spot within you that made yous hake only to snap back against you, not letting the limits of your clothing stop him at all. Then again, it never had before, either. Just like in that training ring, he started to tease. The palm of his hand over your clit, grazing with each thrust that was never quite enough. Your hips rolled down to meet him, scrabbling, desperate for more, and his condescending laugh was hidden in your skin, but you felt every piece of it.

Heat flooded your skin, the begging you were rapidly approaching sitting like bitter acid on the tip of your tongue. Your fingers scratched anywhere you could reach, clinging to him while demanding more, thanks and request all in one. You could feel it, the whisper of pleasure over your nerves, so close but not enough, and a sob fell from your lips as his taunting.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

With a simple flick of his wrist, he was twisting his hand, reaching deeper, using all the things he’d learned about you like muscle memory to find every spot that he needed to.

“Please, Azriel!”

“Please, what?” He echoed, pulling back enough to set his forehead on your own again, lips brushing, feeling your pants wash over his face, letting him taste everything he did to you from your needy whines and gasps. “Tell me what you want.” He threw your own words back in your face, you’d made him ask you to stay, and now he wanted you to ask him to make you come.

Your lips stopped the words, another cry of his name, shaky and pathetic as he held your orgasm just out of reach, his fingers slowing to almost a stop, barely moving at all, and your frustration was so palpable you felt like electricity was jumping from your skin to his own, every hair standing on end. “Azriel! Please, please, let me come!”

“There’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With the perfect crook of his fingers, Azriel had you shaking, hurtling towards an orgasm that would leave your mind spinning, head empty when that was what you were supposed to be doing for him, but the pleasure was too heady for you to care.

His fingers buried deep in your cunt, his lips on your neck, tongue and teeth stinging and soothing as he marked you, mumbled praises interspersed with filthy promises, it was all too much. With a heavy swipe of his thumb over your clit, his name finally fell in a true scream from your lips.

He didn’t let up, not when your clit began to throb or walls pulsed. Not until you were shaking so hard through your orgasm that you were all but crawling up and over the edge of the balcony did he stop, leaving you unable to breathe for an entirely different reason as he wrung your body out for pleasure.

His hand finally left you, catching you at the waist when your knees buckled, his fingers tucking into his mouth to suck the taste of your from them, a lewd act that had your cheeks flushing with heat and your stomach tingling with need again already. Clinging onto him, your nails left crescent moons in the exposed skin of his chest, red marks on his forearms where you’d clawed at him, but he didn’t seem to care. If anything, he looked wilder now then he had before.

“That… that was even better than last time.” You panted out. He’d used all those tips and tricks he’d learned about your body from the last time to play you like his favourite game this time, driving you to an earth-shattering orgasm with a few touches and buttons pushed, knowing you too well.

Your only reply was a harsh kiss, his tongue forcing its way between your lips to let you taste yourself as he held you solidly to him. Your lips were slow and languid where his were hurried and desperate, mind still working far too quickly, still holding onto so much, the night nowhere near over if he hadn't started to let it go.

A shadow swiped across the back of your legs, your body sinking slowly towards the ground as this time he doesn’t bother to correct you, this time, it was intentional. Your lips are torn apart, your knees meeting the stone as he sets you down, with enough care that your teeth don’t clatter and your knees aren’t cut, a flash of your love in there despite the monster taking over his body.

“Gods, I knew you’d look good on your knees for me. Always so pretty, baby. So fuckin’ pretty.” He swept your hair over your shoulders, a finger under your chin to tip your head up, shadows so high around you that if he willed it they’d go over your head entirely, smothering you within them and taking you prisoner. “Bet you’d look good if your mouth was stuffed with my cock too, huh? Shall we find out?”

Your legs clenched at his words, a dizzy wave of arousal slamming into you at full force. You’d thought about Az bossing you around before, the voice he used at training or on missions, hoping he’d one day turn it on you between the sheets too. This was so much colder and crueller than that, it was almost mocking, like he truly was taking you for the toy you’d offered yourself up to be, his to use for the night until he felt better, and he wore that role like a second skin.

His leathers sit low on his hips, sharp hipbones exposed to you along with the deep dip of his muscled stomach, trailing down with a patch of hair from his navel to disappear between the laces. Leaning in, you left a light kiss over the soft hairs just above the hemline, a hiss on his lips as he watched you, and you watched him through your lashes.

Another kiss, this one to his hipbone, and then to the other, his hand clenching and unclenching by his side as you left scattered kisses along the base of his stomach, tongue occasionally flicking out to tease. When he’d seemingly had enough, his hand settled on your head, fingers weaving into your hair, gathering the strands up threateningly in his fist but not tugging yet, just making his presence known, taking back every shred of that power.

Sliding your hands up his legs and over the front of his trousers, he let out a low moan at the pressure of your palms, his hips rolling into your touch as his erection strained against the fabric underneath. Your fingers toyed with the ends of each lace holding them shut, barely managing to contain him now.

“Go ahead, pretty girl.” His words were powerful but his voice was straining, watching through hooded eyes as you undid the laces slowly, unable to hide the smirk on your face as you teased him. Inching them down a little at a time, more and more of him was revealed to you, until the leathers were tight around the middle of his thighs, his cock red and angry, standing tall before you, shining with the smears of precum that already escaped him.

When you leaned in, hands still clasped at his thighs, only to leave a tantalising lick from his base to his tip, he growled. You did it again, enjoying the way the danger of riling him up anymore seemed to make you tremble with want. You cleaned the taste of him from his skin, salty and rich, merely a hint of what he’d truly taste like and yet your mouth was already watering, begging for more, needing it more than you needed air to breathe.

Another lick, and his restraint finally snapped. A shocked sound left your lips as he yanked your head back hard by the first in your hair, taking his cock within his other hand, and slapping it against your cheek. “Open up, before I fucking make you.”

Your jaw fell open of its own command, lips parting and tongue sitting flat, and there was far too much pride in his gaze as he grinned down at you, letting the head of his cock hover millimetres from your lips.

“Say please.”

“Please.” You were breathless, the word rushing from you, and the grin on his face was wild enough that your stomach felt like you’d fallen through the sky. The same flipping and turning that Azriel would do when he carried you through the air, just to get a rise out of you. Somehow, he managed to do the same thing when you were on the ground, too. “Please, Az, let me make you feel better.”

“Alright, baby, I’ll let you help.” With that, he was pressing himself between your lips, hot skin sliding across your tongue, the taste of him the only thing you could focus on as he slipped into your mouth. He didn’t stop, not until he was tapping against the back of your throat, a deep moan falling from his lips as he struggled to keep his eyes open, to keep his focus on you as your lips sealed tightly around him. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’ve always dreamed about what your mouth would feel like, but this is so much better than all of it.”

Your moan was muffled around him, tongue tracing the throbbing vein along the underside of his cock, and the hand in your hair tightened until tears were lining your eyes.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His hips rocked a little, pulling back only to push back in, setting a slow pace, fucking your mouth a little more each time. He built back up again, his smirk growing with every gag you gave him. He was teasing himself and you, never daring to push any further but showing exactly what he wanted, exactly where he wanted to be, and with another sharp pull of your hair to angle your head up for himself, he took it.

Pushing himself in, he kept going, until your nose was brushing against the base of his cock, and breathing became impossible. Choking around the thick length filling your throat as he held you there, his other hand came to cup your face, squeezing roughly until he was pulling out entirely, giving you a few seconds to gasp for breath, lungs burning and head spinning.

“Is this what you wanted, huh? When you offered to help me? Wanted to cry, choke on my cock in your pretty mouth?” He was trying to scare you, to see if it was all too much, to see if you would go back on your words and leave him. His face was like stone but he couldn't hide the flash of insecurity in his eyes, and you shook your head. This time, you moved before he could control you again.

Surging forward, you pushed past everything you knew, nails digging into his thighs and his knees shaking as you caught him by surprise, burying his length down your throat once again, and the stream of shaky curses left his lips. With a weak growl, he scrabbled to regain control, to think around the smooth of your tongue at his base, the lips sealed tightly, the tight swallows at his tip as salty precum filled your mouth.

Tugging on your hair, the muscles of his legs tightened, all the way over his ass and up to his wings as he pulled them taut to his body. Stroking his thumb over your cheek, he pressed against himself through the skin, holding you in place even as you tried to pull back. “Shit, sweetheart, look at you. You even look pretty when you cry.”

Catching one tear with his thumb, he raised it up, licking it from his finger and allowing you to pull back, to free one hand and stroke his spit-soaked length as you caught your breath. “Just for you, Az.”

Your voice was rough, croaky as you tries to speak around the dull ache so worth it, when he looked down with heat in his eyes and parted lips in shock. “Better be. You’re my girl.”

You lapped at him, using your fingers for everything you weren’t mouthing at, alternating between teasing his head until his legs shook before working your way back down, until your tongue was smoothing across the tops of his balls and he was letting out breathy sighs of your name, only to repeat it all over. Again and again you went, until a steady line was flowing from his tip, every drop being caught as he leaked, your scalp stinging from the grounding grip he had on you.

He was growing more and more impatient, no longer the patient man you fell for as he tried to guide you to where he wanted you, adoring gaze turning wicked once again. “I’m gonna’ cum, and if you keep teasing me, you won’t be getting the same pleasure again.”

You stilled, the promise in his gaze of more was enough to make you give in, the tone of his voice a dark threat underneath. Remaining still, your lips parted, tongue hanging a little before him and the widening of his eyes was enough to show his arousal at your obedience. With a single move, he was back in your mouth, fucking at a sloppy pace as he chased his high, your nails clawing at his thighs to keep him in place, your name an endless moan on his lips, curses and praises thrown in as his head fell back.

Once taut wings were now hanging loose, his entire body shaking, before he came; “Don’t swallow yet.”

Hot bursts of cum coated your tongue, and he held you in place, his body jerking through the intensity of his orgasm, until it was all too much, and he was pulling back. The last of his release spattered across your lips, sitting heavy in your mouth as he panted. The hand in your hair finally slipped out, your eyes almost crossing at the relief of it, and his hand slipped down to rub at the pearly beads coating your lips, pressing them into your skin before tipping your chin up.

“Let me see it.”

Parting your lips, he let out a broken moan at the sight, the coat of his release over your tongue, and nodding his head. His cock twitched, never softening but only bouncing more, an angry red beginning to take over as his need still recessed evidently, watching you swallow before helping you to your feet.

As you stared up at him, he smiled, dipping down to kiss your sticky lips, licking the taste of himself from them as you panted against his mouth. He said he wanted to ruin you, and yet you’d never expected this. You were taken apart, piece by piece until you were nothing but a shattered mess in his hands, and he was all that was holding you together.

Your thighs were slick with your arousal, rubbing together unashamedly as he kissed the taste of himself from your tongue, a soft contrast to the bruising grip he’d had on your hips, your neck, your hair, only moments ago. His mouth trailed up, a sweet, wet kiss left on each cheek, before his nose was coming back to bump with yours.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect.” The words came with a sharp smack across your ass, the skin stinging, threatening to leave a mark there too, and your body jolted into his. “Since you’ve been so good, I’ll let you choose how you take my cock first. You’ve got one minute, and I expect you naked on my bed, in whatever position you want it.”

Another smack, and you were being dismissed, stumbling over shaky legs as excitement coursed through your body. Stripping your shirt off and over your head, you left a trail of clothing as you went, bra next, then your leggings, shoes and socks gone and panties last, until you found yourself at the baseboard, staring at the large bed designed for maximum Illyrian comfort, threatening to swallow you whole when you crawled onto it.

Shadows swirled around you, traces up your legs until you shivered, a cool swipe over your heated core, through your messy hair, tweaking at taut nipples until you whimper, mind a frenzy as you tried to work out what to do.

Azriel moved like water in the night, silent and invisible, until he was pressed up behind you, one hand splaying over your waist and the other shifting your hair over one shoulder. A disapproving noise left his mouth as he lowered it, pressed a kiss to your skin, and your head fell to the side to give him more space, eyes fluttering shut.

“What did I say?”

Your lips fell open to respond, to explain yourself, but all that came out with a surprised cry of his name as his teeth clamped down against your skin, pain and pleasure blurring into one. He licked across the mark, before doing it again, never enough to break the skin, but enough to leave his imprints on you. Marked, bitten like two wild creatures in the heat of it all, and that was exactly how you felt. Trembling in his arms, he shushed you quietly.

“I told you where I wanted you, you didn’t listen.”

“I couldn't decide!” His lips were skimming your skin again, the other side now, teeth grazing, but pausing at your words. “I’ve thought about you so much, about this, I didn’t know what I wanted most.”

He pulled back, kissing his way back up your shoulder until he was nuzzling a hot kiss into the skin of your neck, your panting the only sound to fill the room as he turned your face towards him with one finger. A soft kiss was placed on your lips, no tongue or teeth but full of emotion, and he barely even pulled back to speak, “I love you.”

Your eyes snapped open, meeting his as a cold shock broke through hot, hazy lust, but he wasn’t ready to linger. The darkness still had a tight grip on him, those few words breaking through didn’t stop the tidal wave of need, because your mind had yet to catch up before your cheek was pressing into the bedsheets, hips being pulled up as Azriel manhandled you to the centre of the bed.

Your fingers grasped at cotton sheets, knees digging in for purchase on the soft fabric, as he layered himself over you, kissing at the top of your spine and surrounding you entirely. His wings were like a blanket, covering you on either side, his arms on your hips, gripping tightly. Now, you could feel all of him. He must’ve shed his clothes when you did, because that thick length was pulsing against your core, pressed up and rocking in slow motions as he created the most delicious friction, your eyes rolling.

When the head of his cock bumped against your swollen clit, a pornographic sound left your lips, something sinful and dark, and he chuckled as he left little nips along your skin as he shifted back.

His slap across your ass was electricity sparking over your skin, continuing to abuse your clit while giving you nothing at all, clenching emptily as he left a matching spank to the other side. “You look so good decorated with my handprints.”

“Azriel, please, stop teasing, I need you.” Your cries only made him laugh, holding you firm as you rocked back to meet him, desperately seeking something more, and embarrassed heat flushed over your cheeks, blending into tear-soaked skin and pretty love-bites.

“You don’t need me, you need this,” He taunted, lining himself up and fucking into you with one quick thrust. A scream left you as he did, stretching you so perfectly that your eyes crossed at the intrusion, a burning as he let you settle, to adjust to his length, that left you squirming, hips rubbing against his as he sat at full depth. “I bet you feel better now, sweetheart, full of my cock. Does that make you happier?”

“So, so happy…” Your babble was senseless, tailing off into more pleas of his name as he set a steady rhythm.

The last of that feral anger came through, unhinged and needy as he fucked out every bit of pent-up anger. His thrusts were brutal, hips snapping into yours hard enough that you were pushed up the bed, gripping at the bedsheets to hold steady. Everything else in the room, in your mind, slipped away, until you could only focus on the sloppy rhythm of his pounding into you, every connection, every thrust as he hit spots inside of you that made you see stars. “So godsdamned wet for me, so warm and soft. If my heart gave out from fucking you, and I’d die happy.”

“Oh, gods…”

“No gods are watching over you now, my love, just me. If you’re gonna’ moan anyone’s name, I want it to be mine.” Your toes were curling with the pleasure, the knuckles in your fingers aching as you clung onto the sheets for strength, body shaking. He left kisses up and down your spine, bites and spanks until every part of your body felt like it had been touched, been played with, another part taken away only to be put back better.

He was breathing just as hard as you were, moans of your name coming out in broken sighs, his hand closing over your own as he fell atop you with the sheer intensity of it all. Your bodies were moulded together like you were made for it, his face tucked into the crook of your neck, skin covered in a light sheen of sweat that made everything so much more erotic.

The scent of him overwhelmed you, stronger and deeper with his arousal, the smell of sex in the room thick and heavy, and you cried out his name as it all blended into something indescribable.

Reaching his other hand around you, scarred fingertips skimmed over the apex of your thighs, a few messy circles was all it took to send you spiralling over the edge. “Oh, fuck, Az!”

When you came, it was like a storm crashing onto the beaches, your body spasming until not even your knees could hold you up, collapsing down into the bedding and freeing yourself of his movements for only a second, before his body was following you down. His hand, still trapped under your body kept going, until moans turned into cries and sobs, pleasure you couldn’t take anymore, it was so good.

Your body was lax, pliant in his arms as he flipped you over, his for the taking as he pried your shaking thighs apart to bare your sopping cunt to himself again.

“Need y’to give me one more, my love. Can’t get enough of your pussy, can you give me another?” His lips closed over your own, and his tongue playing with yours could barely count as a kiss, your mind hardly worked, just a filthy collision of his lips with your own. “One more, yeah?”

“Yeah, Az, I can do it. I want it…” Lifting up your legs to latch at his hips, your heels dug into his firm ass, pressing him forward again, and he took the hint. In one easy movement, his hips were cradled between your legs, his hands on either side of your head and he was sheathing himself inside of you once again.

Your back arched, a scream in his ear as his head fell forwards, damp foreheads pressing together as he dove back into a messy pace. What had already been uncontrollable before was now a chaotic mess, jerks of his hips as he frantically followed his own high, curses spilling from him and muscles tense.

When he couldn't hold himself up anymore, he dropped to his forearms, putting everything he had into those final movements, the grinding of his body lighting you up. Your nipples scarped his chest, the base of his cock thumping your clit with every sporadic movement, and your screams became silent as white-hot bliss flooded your body.

He gave your front the same treatment, teeth and lips leaving no spot untouched, committing you to memory with his mouth as he left stains and splotches across your skin with his rough touch.

“Azriel, Azriel, Azriel!” Like a chant, you were incapable of saying anything else, even your own name escaped you as you focus on him, the vision of him before you, jaw clenched and eyes sparkling, never looking away from you for even a second. Your body was utterly boneless, your finger shaking as you reached up over his shoulder, clamping your teeth down against his shoulder the same way he had done to you, and brushing your lips down over his wing.

That was it, a soft stroke and a cruel bite, and he was shattering above you, a burst of power unlike any of the others, the door rattling and the winds trembling as he came. An explosion, the feeling of his heat filling you up sent another orgasm cresting through your body, shuddering up your spine until your head was pressing into the bed, his head in your neck. He never stopped moving, riding both of you through your peaks until it was too much, finally coming to a stop, still tucked deep inside of you, and his body collapsed down on top of yours.

His head remained where it was, breathing evening out as he took steady breaths. His heart was pressed to your stomach, the beat of it synching to your own as both of you began to even back out. The chill from the open patio doors finally started to take effect, swiping the heat from the room and taking the intoxicating smell of sex and your combined scents with it, leaving only the palpable tension between you both.

Your body was still trembling, still spasming with the occasional twitch, a feeling flooding your body that you knew would take hours to go away as you pulled yourself back together from the way Azriel had torn you apart.

Your fingers were tracing up and down his spine when you felt him stiffen, when the shallow breathing that had almost convinced you he’d fallen asleep was a ragged gasp. He lifted his fingers, pulling back a fraction only to push your jaw to the side, tracing across your skin slowly, from one patch to another, the more he distanced himself.

Rocking back onto his knees, his length finally pulled from your sensitive core, a sound of true pain now leaving you as the soreness began to kick in, and he winced as he settled into with one hand holding him up above you. He didn’t look down, not for a second to the seed of his own dripping from you and ruining the bedsheets, but instead, an anguished look took over his face as he traced softly over your skin.

Propping yourself up weakly on your arms, you watched him, brows furrowed in confusion as he became more and more hurt.

“Oh, fuck, baby. I-I’m so sorry…”

Now you understood, watching him trace the tip of his index finger over a bite on your shoulder, down to a bruise on the side of your breast, made by his lips in the throes of passion. “Azriel-”

“What did I do to you?” His voice cracked, the spiralling already starting, and you freed your arms, collapsing back into the bed only to pull you with him, ignoring his resistance and tugging his body back against your own.

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want you to do!”

“I hurt you!” He sniffed, the outburst watery and broken, and your head shook urgently, leaving kisses dotted along his cheeks when he pulled back enough to look at you.

“Stop it, stop it right now, Azriel.” You rarely took such a tone with him, the pain on his face only worsening with confusion as he stared. “You didn’t hurt me. You gave me every chance to leave and I chose to stay. What we just did was fucking fantastic, and even if you were locked up in your head, you were here with me the entire time. These marks mean nothing, because every touch was so full of love, Azriel. I could feel it. These marks don’t mean you hurt me, they show me just how much you love me.”

His lips were pursed tight, still attempting to pull away, and you had no choice. Using all that training he’d put you through, in the midst of his distraction, you flipped him over, cautious to avoid catching his wings, and leaving him sprawled out on his back. Settling into his lap, your hands found his shoulders, pinning him to the bed and pressing your forehead to his.

“I love you, Azriel.” His eyes widened, swollen and kiss-bruised lips parting, and a smile finally tugged at your own. “I love you. I love you so much, and I wanted to be here for you. If you don’t stop, you’re gonna’ break my fucking heart, because it’ll mean you don’t trust yourself for me, to know what we need.”

“Of course, I trust you.” His whisper came immediately, setting hesitant hands over his marks on your waist, holding you reverently instead of demandingly now, tugging you a little closer to his chest. “I just… fuck, seeing you like this at my doing-”

“I think I left my fair share of marks on you too.” You dragged one finger over a scratch on his bicep, a hiss through his teeth as he looked down at it. Looked down at all of them. His marks would be gone by morning, that Illyrian healing already kicking in, but the look of awe growing on his face would never fade. “This one,” Tracing your finger beside the scratch instead of over it, you drew his attention back to you, “I gave you this one because I love the way you smile at me.”

You moved to another, tracing a bite on his shoulder where your teeth had sunk in to hold back a scream.

“I gave you this one because you never let me feel sad or alone.”

“I gave you this one,” He cut off, voice a little shaky as he tried to rewrite hatred to love, running his thumb over a kiss by your nipple, but never dropping your gaze. “I gave you this one because I love how brave you are.”

You smiled, his own smile coming back, as you looped your arms around his neck. “See? These are not marks of hurt, they’re marks of love. They’re called love-bites for a reason, you know?”

He only chuckled, tracing his fingers over the reddened skin of your ass, still raw from his palm. “I gave you these spanks for making cheesy jokes.”

“You love them.”

“No, but I love you.” He spoke, catching your lips a second later in the gentlest kiss yet. He leaned back, taking you with him, his mouth never leaving your own as he settled back into the pillows, shadows closing the balcony doors and settling like a blanket around you both. “Thank you for being here for me.”

“I’ll always be here for you, Az.” You shifted, settling your cheek on his shoulder, and pulling the real blankets across your bodies for warmth, his arms curling protectively around you to hold you there. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I don’t want anything like what happened to ever touch you.” His lips brushed your forehead, and you pressed a little further into his embrace. “I feel better, though. So much better, just for having you here in my arms. I don’t want you to ever leave them.”

“I guess I could stay for a while.”

“I want you to stay forever.” His mumble came through a lazy breath and the cloud of sleep hanging over you both, exhaustion weighing in at last, but you smiled despite it all.

“Forever it is, then.”

#azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #acotar x reader #acotar/reader #acotar x you #acotar/you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #a court of thorns and roses #acotar

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dilemmaontwolegs · 3 months

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For the Love of God(dess) || CL16 {2}

Summary: Greek God/dess AU. You show Charles a part of your world and he shows you a part of his. Warnings: angst, fluff WC: 2.6k Part One || Two

The old stone path should have been worn for all the centuries that it had been used as the entrance to Olympus but it was still as perfect as it was the first time you walked it. Nothing ever changed, not since the war ended and a new hierarchy settled among the gods. For two thousand years nothing had changed in the Eternal City.

“Love, what have you done?” The imposing form of Ares filled the road to your temple, his arms the size of your waist. His molten red eyes barely glanced at the man at your side before snapping back with a double take. “Kàrolos?”

“Uh, so everyone keeps saying,” he answered quietly, his eyes sizing up the God of War as he spoke for the first time since arriving through the portal. “And you are?”

“Intrigued,” Ares said with a smirk. “Good luck.”

The god vanished and Charles rubbed at his head, murmuring, “Fucking weird dream.”

“You’ll wake up soon,” you sighed. It might not be the wake up he expected, but it was coming - you just had to find Athena. “I know someone who can help make sense of this, we just need to get you back to my place first. It’s right over h-” your words froze as turned towards your temple.

Where grey stone walls had stood, great white pillars of marble rose. Where empty garden beds lay, hundreds of white roses bloomed.

Your temple had been restored.

“This is your home?” Charles asked, a little awestruck by the sounds of it. It was quite amusing that he walked among the gods but he found beauty in a building of all things.

“Our home.”

“I have a home - in Monaco.”

You opened your mouth to argue but saw the quiet desperation in his features. He was clinging to his humanity and it forced you to remember that this wasn’t the Kàrolos you knew, this was a stranger. The only resemblance they held were their eyes, but they were the window to the soul and they still had the same soul.

“Let’s just go inside.”

The doors beyond the marble arch swung open on your approach and the interior had changed just as much. The vast room was open to the sunlight and a fountain filled the centre, the sound of bubbling water a calming feature. Open arches led to more rooms but you made your way to the furthest one.

Charles followed sedately into the bedroom and out onto the balcony that overlooked the city. Above rose the peak which Zeus had claimed, his golden palace glittering beneath Apollo’s sunshine. Below, the forests of Artemis spread far and wide with lush green canopies and the Orlias river winding through it.

Your palms warmed on the stone railing as you watched a herd of deer pick their way to the river for a drink. “I know you have a million questions and I’m sorry for…everything.”

Charles’ shoulder leaned into yours as he drank in the scenery but he jumped back when an owl swooped in, the spotted wings brushing his cheek. A flash of light burst from the owl and bare feet touched down on the balcony.

“Hmmm, you have had quite the night, Love,” she said with an appreciative look over Charles. She reached out to his face with a smile and wiggled her fingers. “May I?”

“Why? What are you going to do? Who are you?”

“So many questions,” she laughed. “I am Athena, I am knowledge, and if you want the answers then you will let me touch you.”

He looked to you for help and gods damned if it didn’t make something in your chest hurt before you nodded. He swallowed the fear of the unknown and trusted you as he stepped into her waiting hands. Lightning shattered his brain, blinding him with flashes of images that moved too fast to see. But he knew. Knowledge expanded and exploded in his mind at an exponential rate until he knew everything. Thousands of years of history burned into his retina in less than a second. The history of the gods and goddesses that called this place home. The history of the wars and the destruction it brought. The history of you and everything you lost.

He knew it all. And it hurt more than the pain that splintered his head.

He didn’t even realise he collapsed until he felt the softest mattress dip beneath his weight as you laid him down. Your concerned face appeared above him, the sun catching your hair and weaving a golden halo around the strands. A thought crossed his mind and he laughed, shaking his head.

“What?” you asked curiously as his fingers twitched like he had to fight the urge to reach out to you.

“When we met I thought you looked like a goddess, but of course you do. You are.” He looked to the balcony but the owl had already taken flight back to her palace on the hill. “I’m not him, you know.”

“I know.” The man you loved had died a long time ago. You had your time together, no matter how short, and you had mourned for him. It was time to move on. “I don’t want you to be Kàrolos. I want to learn who you are, Charles.”

“And what if you don’t like who I am?”

“I am the Goddess of Love,” you teased, climbing onto the bed to sit beside him. “My arrows don’t work unless there is compatibility between the souls. Psyche is probably better off explaining that but my power only amplifies what attraction is already there. Can’t say I have been on the receiving end of it before. This will take some getting used to.”

“What will?”

“The want, the need to touch you,” you confessed as you looked down at your hands that gripped the bedspread tightly. “It is difficult to be this close and not reach out.”

Charles frowned. “You loved Kàrolos but you didn’t use an arrow?”

“Not everyone needs an arrow to fall in love. Like I said, it only amplifies. People find love on their own everyday, only some need a little poke in the right direction. Those friends who have been dancing around each other for years, the abused who don’t think they are worthy of being loved, the colleagues who only flirt at work. The fates weave their tapestry with a trillion threads of life and when there is a snag, like two lovers who failed to meet, then I repair it so the loom can continue its creation.”

Charles blinked as he began to understand how complex the roles of the gods were. “Fuck.”

You laughed and his lips tugged up at the sound.

“I don’t mind, if you want to touch me,” he admitted quietly, reaching for your hand and unfurling it from the bedding. His hand was larger than yours but your fingers settled between his comfortably and your body sagged with relief. “So what do we do now?”

You shrugged, not exactly knowing the answer yourself. Time was plentiful so there was no rush, but you were eager to find out who it was your heart had been given to. “What do you enjoy?”

Charles’ smile dropped as he suddenly remembered the world he had left behind. “Shit, we need to go back. I have a race this week.”

–

“Breaking News: Peace had been brokered between nations all over the globe in a dramatic turn of events. For more information we will be heading to our correspondent at the United Nations HQ…”

Charles turned off the TV in the hotel but he didn’t miss the way your eyes remained fixed on the screen, or the way your lip wobbled. Crossing the room, he grabbed your hands and bent his knees so you were eye to eye. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s my fault,” you whispered through the lump in your throat. “I failed my duties.”

He looked back at the TV where you could still see the breaking news. Peace had come after two thousand years of skirmishes and wars on the mortal plane. There should have never been wars to begin with.

“That isn’t your fault,” he argued, but he had the knowledge of the gods, he understood how your power worked. The gods were a fragile ecosystem that required balance. You were the balance to Ares’ power and his effect on the world.

“I was weakened when Kàrolos died, I lost half of myself, half of my strength. It left Ares unchecked - of course it is my fault.”

Charles wrapped his arms around you, tucking your head into the crook of his neck so you couldn’t stare at the TV. “You’re making things right now, that’s what matters.”

“It’s not even me,” you laughed bitterly. “It’s you. I couldn’t do this on my own.”

“Come on,” he said as he started to drag you towards the door.

“Where are we going?”

“You need a distraction, and I know just the thing.”

Charles drove to the circuit he would be practising on in the morning and it was relatively quiet as he led you through the paddock. A few teenagers excitedly asked for photos with him and you smiled as he stopped to talk with each one. He was so different to Kàrolos. Kàrolos was a warrior, proud and unmoving. Most children gave him a wide berth when they saw the scars that littered his body. It wasn’t in him to idly chatter or placate others, the only soft spot he had was for you.

“You’re very patient,” you commented as he waved goodbye and continued to the edge of the track.

He smiled shyly and looked at his shoes as he shrugged. “I try my best to talk to fans, especially when I have the time. Take a few laps with me?”

You followed his gaze to a Ferrari that was parked in the pit lane. “I’ve never been in a car.”

“No, really?” His eyes were wide with disbelief and you laughed at the innocence in those eyes.

“I go where I want, I’ve never needed to drive.”

He grabbed your hand and excitement flowed through you as he set a quick pace to the car. “Trust me?” he asked as he opened the passenger door.

You were immortal so it didn’t matter if he crashed. Sure, it would hurt but you would eventually heal. But the question felt heavier than just asking if you trusted him not to crash, more that you could trust him to keep you safe. “Yes, I trust you, Charles.”

You slipped into the seat that was moulded to cradle you before he bent down and buckled the clips in for you. His cologne reached your nose at the close proximity and you inhaled deeper as you committed the rich scent to your memory.

“Is this comfortable?” he asked as he tugged the harness.

“It is…managable.” Restrictive, confined, and claustrophobic came to mind but you didn’t want to worry him as he went around to his side. There was energy in his step that had been missing in Olympus, an ambience that brightened the moment he arrived at the racing track, and you wanted to keep that light in his aura.

“We’ll take the first one slow,” he promised as he started the engine and gripped the wheel.

You had flown into battle on the back of a pegasus, you had held onto the fins of charybdis as they raced through Posiden’s domain. Nothing came close to the thrill and the speed of Charles’ car.

Your heart jumped up your throat as you were thrown back into the seat and then the world around you blurred. Everything faded away except for the window ahead and you didn’t dare blink in case you missed a moment. There were no thoughts on the what ifs of the future, or the regrets of your past. There was only the car, and Charles grinning at you.

“Are you sure this is slow?” you asked with a giddy laugh as the adrenaline reached your head and the initial surprise was erased.

“Hold on, cherie.” The engine roared louder and like a beast it leapt forward. A scream of exhilaration filled the car as Charles lassoed the metal beast and wrangled it through each corner until he finally slowed to return to the pit lane.

“I finally understand the obsession,” you admitted as he parked back where he had left. Your fingers were almost stiff where they had gripped the harness over your chest and you flexed the feeling back into them before unbuckling it. “I can’t even describe it, but I feel alive - if that makes sense? I can’t think quite clearly now.”

“I understand.” Charles smiled softly and wiped away the stray tear that ran down your cheek from having your eyes wide open for so long. “It’s getting late.”

You climbed out of the car and looked up to see stars dotting the desert night sky. It felt like time stopped while you were in the car but nothing could stop time and it all came rushing back. “Can we do this again?” you asked, a little sheepish at how needy you sounded.

“Of course,” Charles promised, taking your hand as naturally as breathing. “After this race it’s winter break and I am all yours.” He stumbled and caught himself. “I mean, if you want to hang out and, uh, stuff. I don’t have any plans, but if you do we can figure something ou-”

You rose onto your toes and kissed his cheek that was turning pink in the moonlight and he fell silent. “I don’t have any plans either.”

Charles stared at your lips, still feeling the warmth on his cheek and he touched the skin as a smile tugged at his lips and he nodded to himself. “Okay. Okay.”

“You’re cute,” you said as you felt the urge to kiss his lips next.

His nose wrinkled at the compliment. “Cute?”

“Amongst other things,” you added, biting your lip to keep your other thoughts to yourself.

He grew confident and curled his finger under your chin, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip and pulling it free from your teeth. “You’re beautiful.”

Your lungs refused to work as his head dipped down slowly, giving you time to change your mind. You could still feel the remnants of that thrill in your veins and the charge was electric as you gave into your desire and threw your arms around his neck. The kiss started slowly, hesitation holding you both back as you tasted the chemistry, but it grew deeper as his arms curled around your waist, pulling your bodies flush.

The track faded away as you spared one last critical thought to teleport back to the hotel room. Charles blinked as he looked around the bedroom, but the surprise turned to a smirk. “That is handy.”

“You can do it too,” you said as your fingers traced the hem of his shirt. “You can just have to picture the image in your mind.”

Cold kissed your skin and you looked down to see your own shirt had disappeared.

“Holy shit, it worked,” he gasped. “Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your shirt returned in an instant but it was now the same shade of red as his team colours.

“I wasn’t complaining,” you smirked but the humour dimmed as his hands came to rest on your waist that was still wrapped in red cotton. “We can take it slow, Charles.”

“Is that what you want?”

“I want you, not your regrets. I want you to be ready.” Ready for an eternity together.

Charles sat at the edge of the bed and pulled you onto his lap. “The first thing you should know about me is I have never been good at going slow,” he admitted as he cupped your cheek and crushed his lips to yours.

#greek gods au #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

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awakenedevildays · 7 days

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「other seashells and quality time」 Art Donaldson x F!reader

you can read the other parts here!

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

Art loves his daughter more than anything else in the whole world. He drops everything in the moment she calls him: he could be doing the most important thing in the world and still it would only take a syllable from his precious baby to get his attention.

So you weren't really surprised when Art changed his mind about the week end in the beach house and asked if you were okay to bring her too, and how could you not agree?! you love your daughter just as much as he does. So your little family is now in the big beach house, sun hitting your skin and the waves gently hitting the shores not too far away. Art is beside you on the big cabana bed in the private beach, his eyes set on Eloise not too far from you, her little feet in the water and a diving mask on her face.

"you put sunscreen on her right? I don't want her to get sunburn" you ask as you sit up next to him.

"yes, I drowned her in sun protection, don't worry she'll be fine" he answers.

"and you put some on too, right?" you inquire suspiciously at him and his face is already an answer "Art".

"I did! on the legs..." he is on the verge of whining but you're already making him lay down on the bed, sunscreen already in hands "baby-".

"you are the palest thing I've ever seen in my entire life, stop talking" you order him as you drop the sunscreen on his chest, he lets out a whine.

"I don't like the feeling of the cream on the skin, it's sticky and-".

"Art I swear Eloise complains less than you" you laugh and start to massage his chest in circular motion, his skin slowly absorbing the white cream.

"mmmh this feels nice" he mumbles back, eyes now closed as he relaxes under your hands "please don't stop" you laugh and keep rubbing the cream, now lower with your hand on his abdomen and you notice a slight change in his breath. His hands are behind his head, one eye open to look at you and a smirk on his face that makes you blush instantly.

"stop looking at me like that" you say as you move to his neck and face.

His smirk gets wider "Like what, love? Tell me" he asks teasing you, his voice low and husky. His gaze is making you feel all kinds of things and he is well aware of it, still acting like he is innocent he sits up, his face now close to yours encouraging you to kiss him but you push him back to lay down.

"Slow down playboy, turn on your stomach" he mumbles a small 'ow' before turning around, his bare back laid out for you and you repeat the same action you did before: you start by his shoulders, gently massaging him with the sunscreen before going lower on his back. His breath gets a bit heavier as you notice goosebumps on his skin, he is feeling it too, your hands gently go lower and lower until you reach the edge of his shorts and you go slowly back up, caressing the skin of his hips and lower back.

"your skin is already slightly red" you scold him "you should listen to me more" his face lays on the bed as he mumbles something against the sheets "what was that?" You ask with a chuckle, straddling his lower back to put the cream on his arms and shoulders too.

You feel his muscles tensing under your touch and he let's out a loud gasp, clearly surprised from the action "Jesus love" he moans and laughs at the same times "you're such a tease" he laughs breathless.

"don't know what you're talking about, I'm just making sure you don't end up red as a tomato" you tease back, your hands are now on his back again to massage his sore muscles, you smile as his breath starts to get slower and heavier, clearly falling asleep, your hands are on his upper back and your thumb is rubbing small circles, soothing him to sleep.

It's only afternoon but he clearly didn't sleep much during the previous days as you were packing everything you needed for the week end. You hop off his back to lay beside him and close your eyes for a few minutes, enjoying the warmth of the sun.

"mommy!" Eloise shouts from the shore and you sit up with a finger in front of your mouth to signal her to lower her voice before staring up to walk towards her.

"what is it, dove?" You ask with a smile, the sea breeze softly blowing through your hair.

She holds your hand and points out towards a few shells laying on the beach "Can we pick those, please?" she asks, her voice low and her big blue eyes look like they could bring you to your knees at her every whim, how could she be so perfect was a mystery.

"yeah baby, let's pick the most beautiful ones for daddy" you smile, her eyes lit up as she quickly bends down to look for the most beautiful shells, her small face focused as she looks for the perfect ones. She finds two little shells, almost identical of perfect spirals and holds one over her head "I found them! Aren't they pretty?!".

Eloise runs towards you, her hands in front of her chest as she shows you the shells "do you think Daddy is going to like them?!"

"he will love them" you assure her, now crunching down to search for them too. Eloise follows you, running around picking one shell after losing interest in the previous one. You spot a small shell, completely white, with small yellow spots on the spiral. It looks as if it's been kissed by the sun. You pick it up and call out for Eloise, holding the shell in front of you to show it "Hey, look what I've just found!".

"it looks like daddy" she exclaims and and you burst into laughter with her "it does! when he wakes up we will show it to him" you tell her, after a few minutes more she eventually gets tired of picking seashells and throws herself in the water, you following her. The sun is now starting to set on the horizon and the weather has cooled down, making the water nice and fresh on the overheating skin. Eloise splashes you with the cool water as you laugh and splash her in return, gently throwing her up in the air and holding her close to you as she squeals happily.

The water covers you up to your chests as you sit down to be at her level and the waves come gently crashing on you and Eloise as she holds on to you tightly: she rests her little head on your neck, her arms wrapped around your neck and legs around your waist as you hum a lullaby until she falls asleep.

You get up as gently as you can, her in your arms while you get out of the water and start walking towards your still sound asleep husband. The sunset is beautiful in the background as you walk back to the cabana bed with Eloise asleep in your arms. Art didn't move an inch since you left him, softly snoring with his face pressed in the pillow. You lay Eloise next to him and cover her body with a dry towel before staring to softly caress Art's back to wake him up, your lips touch his warm skin everywhere you can reach: his shoulder blades, his spine, his lower back and the nape of his neck.

His eyes flutters open and the first thing he sees is your sweet baby next to him, asleep and content sprawled on her back, then he looks at you, sat next to them, a sweet smile on your face and cheeks colored in a lovely red that compliment your beautiful eyes, you look so peaceful. He turns on his back and reaches his arm out to tuck a few strands of your hair behind your ear "hey, you", he whispers, his voice sleepy and low as he stares at you adoringly "did you have fun with baby girl?".

"Yes, we found a seashell that looks just like you" you tell him and Art chuckles, his arms now wrapped around his daughter to bring her wet body to his still warm. He smiles at you as he holds her in his arms, kissing her soft curls and caressing her cheek. She stirs softly in his embrace, her breath still slow and deep from her sleep, her small mouth parted and her pink cheeks still rosy from the hot sun. He looks down at her and his smile gets wider "it's a compliment or an insult?" he asks amused.

"just a fact" you take the seashell from Eloise's bucket to show it to him, he takes it in his hand and looks at it before bursting into laughter "what the hell, it actually looks like me" he whispers, still chuckling quietly as he holds it in front of his face "I mean you're not wrong" he laughs "the nose is identical".

You muffle you laugh with a hand on your mouth before adding "the most beautiful shell on the beach"

He nods, "that's true, but there is only one thing more beautiful than this shell here" he says looking at you, you smile knowingly.

"and who would that be?" you ask .

"me...? obviously" he says, you roll your eyes before slapping his chest lightly.

He laughs loudly and you put a hand over his mouth "Hush! You're going to wake her up, you idiot!" you whisper loudly, trying to keep your voice down but he keeps laughing. He kisses your hand on his mouth before biting your wrist softly, he then takes it in his hand and brings you down next to him on his empty side. He feels like he is holding his entire world in his arms.

You lay your head on his shoulder, feeling his warm bare chest touching your skin. Eloise lays over his heart and she is still deeply asleep, a happy smile on her face. His arm wraps around your waist and he starts tracing random spirals with his fingers on your bare back, his heart almost purring in his chest as he holds you tighter in his embrace.

His eyes never leaves yours "do you even have an idea of how in love with you I am?" he asks, you know.

You can feel yourself blushing at the comment and you reach for his chin, gently stroking it with your hand before answering "yeah, I think I know" you say, your voice almost a whisper as you watch his blue and brown eyes fixated on you, his gaze so intense you almost feel like drowning in them, his heart beating faster under your touch.

"good, I'm doing my job right then" he says.

You chuckle and press your lips softly against his, his soft breath warming up your skin as he inhales deeply before kissing you back, his hand now cupping your cheek and caressing it gently. He pulls you closer to him, your bodies almost completely pressed together as you lose yourselves into the kiss for a moment

"hehe!"

You both jump at the sudden noise and pull yourselves out of the kiss to see Eloise staring at you, her eyes wide and shining with what resembles amusement. Your face turns as red as a hot pepper and Art bursts into laughters.

"what are you smirking at, little girl?" Art asks between chuckles, his arm wrapped around your waist as you bury your face in his shoulder, still embarrassed. Eloise just shrugs her shoulders and giggles before burying her tiny fists into her cheeks with a mischievous smile on her face.

Art shakes his head and looks at her as she tries to hold her bursting laughter back "you should see your face, mama" she says between giggles stop making out in front of me!"

"how do you even know what it means!" you ask her, eyes wide and Art laughs out loud when your head shots up from his neck.

Eloise shakes from laughter and giggles "I heard daddy talking about it on the phone once, and aunt Tashi told me what it means" she says and your face turns even more red at that, you feel Art's body shaking with laughter beside you as he holds you both against him. "I should really keep you away from her".

Eloise whines "no! I love auntie Tashi".

"of course you do. She's always spoiling you" Art sighs, his hand tracing your skin as he looks down at his little devil, still chuckling softly "and she gives you candy as if you were a grown up!" he says, half amused but still with a hint of seriousness in his voice.

"she doesn't!" Eloise defends her.

"yes she does! I found you with a bag of gummy bears last time!" Art accuses her, but she keeps giggling while shaking her head, the innocence in her little face is too adorable to resist.

You can't help but smile at the scene, your heart melts at the sight of them and you gently kiss Art's shoulder, softly burying your face in his skin. Eloise's laugh is contagious and you feel as light as air as you sit up, Eloise copies you "we should head inside" you propose.

"yeah, it's starting to get dark" Art agrees as he lifts Eloise up in his arms, when you stand up he passes her to you to take the backpack full of towels and the seashells, his twin included.

"daddy, did you see the yellow and white shell? it looks like you!" Eloise says "yeah I did love!" he answers back just as exited.

You carry her back towards the house, her head lays on your shoulder, her arms wrapped around your neck and your own arm around her small body. She giggles and softly kisses your cheek as you head back to the house, Art walking close behind holding the things for you.

"did I ever tell you that when me and your mom kissed for the first time we were picking seashells?" he asks her, her little head turns towards him, her eyes spark as Art's words catch her interest. She shakes her head and looks up at him, her tiny hands stops playing with your hair as she gives him her full and undivided attention "no you didn't! Tell me, daddy!" she says, excitement in her voice.

You look at Art as he begins to tell her the story, both of you with a smile on your faces, who knew that that first night together would bring you two to this moment?

━━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━━

This is too much even for me lol, might delete it.

Do not copy or repost.

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson fluff #art donaldson #challengers #challengers fic

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megalony · 3 months

Text

I'll Deal With Him

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by the lovely @klovesreading I hope this is what you were hoping for. Feedback is always appreciated, let me know what you think.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @gillybear17

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: After (Y/n) saves a man from a car wreck, he starts to follow her a lot. And he isn't happy when he finds out she's married, either.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"What's your name?"

"Max."

"Okay Max, I'm (Y/n) and I'm gonna try and get you out of here." A calming smile flooded (Y/n)'s lips but she could feel her nerves starting to play up and ignite a spark deep in her stomach.

Her eyes cast around the upside down car before she took a deep breath and flopped down onto the concrete on her stomach. Her chest and legs pressed uncomfortably into the road and she shuffled and crawled along until she could whip her helmet off and wedge herself through the open door into the car.

Max was trapped. He was near the edge of the road, trapped inside an upside down car that was spewing smoke and partially crushed.

(Y/n) did her best to assess him, she could see his legs and feet wiggling around which suggested he had no paralysis or nerve damage. His hands were tapping anxiously on the steering wheel and he was rocking his head back and forth to try and keep himself calm.

She could see a worrying cut that was bleeding out on his left arm just below his shoulder but when she patted him down, she couldn't find any other substantial injuries. Apart from one or two broken ribs.

Lifting her head, (Y/n) looked around before she reached her hand out for the seat belt. "Hold still for me." She wrangled it free and unbuckled it, keeping her other hand on Max's neck to ease him down a little. She had to get him out soon, staying turned upside down like this wasn't doing him any good and she couldn't sort out his arm while he was trapped.

Wiggling back, she shuffled out and stayed laying beside the car so she could look around for her team.

"Guys, anyone free to assist? I have a driver stuck."

"Give me a minute." Eddie's huffed reply came through and (Y/n) started to nod to herself until she looked up.

"Now. I need you now, the car's leaking I have to get him out."

Petrol was pooling down the side of the car and onto the road. If that caught fire the car would go up in flames. (Y/n) couldn't wait around and she couldn't do anything to stop the leak. She needed to get Max out before the car set alight and he was burned inside.

When (Y/n) didn't receive a response, she did another sweep around the car but she could see it was going to spark up soon. Very soon.

A shiver crawled down her spine and her body shuddered when she realised there was a fire just to the side of the road, less than five feet away from the car. They were going to go up in flames. She had to move. She had to get Max out, backboard or assistance be damned. (Y/n) had to move quickly if she wanted to get them both to safety.

"Eddie? Eddie- fuck! We're getting out now Max, hold steady for me."

Crawling back through, (Y/n) ripped off her gloves and scrunched her fingers tightly underneath Max's arms. She took a deep breath and started to pull with as much effort as she could muster. Her stomach grated against the floor and her teeth clenched down as she tried to hurry but it was hard.

Pushing up onto her knees, she yanked on his arms and slumped his upper body through the open door, past the sheet of broken glass surrounding them on the floor.

"I- I- my leg!" Both Max's hands moved down to grab his left leg which wasn't moving the way he wanted it to. The top of the car was crumpled and his left leg was crushed between the metal. He couldn't try and scramble and help (Y/n) get him out without almost tearing his leg off in the process.

(Y/n) could feel her panic rising as the puddle of petrol started to grow into a turbulent fire that was trickling across towards the car.

She took a deep breath and let go of Max's arms so she could flop back down onto her stomach. She shimmied out of her florescent jacket and laid it over Max's head and chest to try and keep him more protected before she wedged her head and upper body into the cramped footwell.

There was no time for someone to find and bring her the jaws to cut the metal and cut his leg free from the car. If (Y/n) didn't do something now, they would both be fried.

Her hands curled around the back of Max's knee and she felt up and down his leg to try and assess him and make sure there were no injuries or burst blood vessels she had to be aware of. (Y/n) then stuck her hand between his leg against the metal and tried to pull. She used all her effort to wiggle his ankle from side to side and do the same to his knee to get him out.

A scream burned past her lips and she jolted to the left, smacking her head into the car frame when she realised the other side of the car was starting to catch fire.

Her movements became violent and frantic as she wrenched, tugged and jostled Max's leg until finally, just as another part of the car started to ignite, his leg came free. (Y/n) felt dizzy when she shuffled back and moved to grab Max by the arms again. She could feel her legs giving way as she yanked and started to drag him again.

"Come on." (Y/n) seethed through gritted teeth but her eyes slammed closed and she yanked harder when she saw the car lighting up with flames burning even higher. The fire was starting to burn inside the car and get dangerously close to the petrol tank. Her boots scraped against the floor and her back and shoulders ached and screamed as she shuffled as fast as she could.

Her body shuddered and hit the floor when the car ignited and a billowing sheet of flames lapped across every square inch of the car. Her left shoulder slammed into the floor and she could feel Max slumped next to her legs, but they were out. They weren't stuck in the car. He was out and he was safe; (Y/n) didn't let him burn.

"You saved me."

Her eyes tried to come back into focus and she looked down at Max when he patted her leg and tried to smile up at her. But all (Y/n) could see was a blob of black and florescent yellow aiming her way as her name tore from her husband's lips.

She let her eyes fall closed to stop herself from crying when Eddie's hands slid under her arms and he carefully but quickly lifted her up from the floor so she was sitting up. She went loose and floppy, letting Eddie take her weight and easily pull her further away from the scene while Hen and Evan started to move Max in the same direction.

(Y/n) flopped her head back onto Eddie's shoulder when he finally stopped and went down on his knees behind her. His arms looped around her waist and he lifted her right hand to see where she had been hurt when he noticed the blood pooling down between her fingers.

"Talk to me. Are you good?" His hand smoothed up and down her front and he breathed in relief when (Y/n) tried to smile and nod. She must have cut her hand when she was trying to free Max's leg, but other than that and the shock and adrenaline, she was fine.

She opened her eyes again when she felt an unfamiliar hand on her ankle and realised it was Max. He reached out for her just before Evan and Hen tried to get him on a backboard to try and move him.

His lips curved into a tender smile and he gave her ankle a squeeze. "Thank you."

That was a close call.

***

(Y/n) turned away from the ambulance she was re-stocking when a hand gently squeezed her shoulder. She turned and looked across to the left, smiling when she realised it was Hen coming up behind her.

"You've got a visitor."

Her eyes narrowed quizically and she grinned until she looked behind Hen to see who she was referring to. (Y/n) wasn't sure why, but her first instinct was thinking of the kids, even though Chris would still be at school right now and Tate was at daycare. Neither of her kids would be here to visit her and Eddie at this time unless there had been some kind of problem or emergency. And since both her husband and brother were on shift with her, it couldn't have been them.

It was Max. The sight of him stood near the front of the fire engine made (Y/n)'s stomach bubble up with anxiety and she could feel her mood deflating.

She nodded and tried to smile at Hen who took the clipboard from her to take over re-stocking the ambulance so (Y/n) could go and see her 'visitor'.

Her hands slid into her back pockets and she tilted her head down as she headed over to approach Max. He was stood with a beaming smile on his face that looked like a somewhat cocky grin and it made (Y/n) shudder.

This was the third time he had stopped by the station to see her. At first, it had been sweet. He came by and hugged her and thanked her for saving him last month. (Y/n) had been overcome with relief and happiness that he was okay and she had done something good and helped someone. It was always endearing to see some of the people they helped come back and see them and to know how they were doing.

The second time, (Y/n) had been a little uneasy about it. He had no reason to come back and see her, but he came by the station again. He asked how she was and did some small-talk and even tried to take (Y/n)'s hand. She had been relieved when the bell sounded and she had to say a quick goodbye and head out to a call.

Now he was back again and (Y/n) dreaded to think why.

"Hi (Y/n)."

"Hi Max, how are you? Hen said you're here to see me?" (Y/n) plastered a fake smile on her face and tried to stay casual and look relaxed. Her hands stayed in her back pockets and she leaned her head to the side, but her anxiety spiked when he took three steps closer.

She had deliberately stood with an air of space between them for safety and respect, but Max had closed that distance completely. He stood so close his shoes bumped against her boots and she could almost feel each breath he took.

"I'm great, thanks to you. The woman who saved me. I thought I'd stop by and see how you are, and thank you."

"Oh, you know, that's really not necessary… this is my job, I was there to help. You don't have to keep thanking me."

If every person they helped kept coming back to thank them again and again like this, none of them would ever leave the station, they would be that swamped. Max didn't have to thank (Y/n) anymore and he didn't have to keep stopping by. He was the one who had been hurt and in danger, not (Y/n). He had no reason to come by and check in on her as if she had been hurt by saving him.

"Then let me take you out."

Panic bubbled away in (Y/n)'s chest. She watched his lips curve into a cheesy smile and he looked her up and down before he leaned his head closer, waiting impatiently for a response.

He wanted to take her out. Hadn't he noticed she was wearing a wedding ring? Didn't he realise it was rather strange to keep coming by the station to check in with her and thank her so many times like this?

"Max… I'm flattered, truly. But I'm married." Sliding her hands out of her pockets, (Y/n) gingerly flashed her left hand for him to see her engagement and wedding ring. She didn't want him to think she was lying to him to try and put him off. She really was married and she was happier than she'd ever been now she was with Eddie.

"You're married?" His tone dampened immediately and the hurt was evident on his face.

It almost made (Y/n) feel bad, as if she had been leading him on and now had to let him down.

"Hm, my husband works here too. I don't think he'd be too impressed if I went out with you." She tried to make a light joke to see if it would lessen the tension but it didn't work.

Max took a daring step closer to her until their chests were pressed together and (Y/n) had to take three steps back to keep some space between them. Her hands moved to hold out in front of her when Max tried to walk up to her again. Being close to him wasn't going to change her mind.

(Y/n) didn't want to go out with him. She was married to Eddie and he was very protective. He wouldn't take too kindly to someone asking her out and then not taking no for an answer.

"I'll deal with him, come on let me take-"

"Max, no. You're sweet, but I love my husband and my kids, I can't go out with you."

(Y/n) flinched and pulled her wrist away sharply when Max reached out to try and grab her. She wasn't sure what he thought he could do, pull her close and tell her he wouldn't take no for an answer. Or maybe he thought being close and trying to kiss her would get her to change her mind.

She was married. She had Eddie and two kids and her life was perfect the way it was. (Y/n) wasn't going to leave her family, leave Eddie, because someone like Max thought her doing her job meant they were supposed to be together.

Turning her head to the right, (Y/n) locked eyes with Evan and she bit her lip, moving her hand to scratch the back of her neck. An anxious habit that she knew Evan would recognise.

They had a system. Evan had codewords for when he wanted (Y/n) to step into a situation or take him away, especially involving their parents. And (Y/n) would scratch her neck and stare down her big brother until he came to help. Throughout their childhood they had used little looks and code signs to help each other out and right now, (Y/n) needed some help.

She watched Evan put his mug of coffee down and jog towards her, trying not to make it too obvious that he was now worried and confused.

"I think you should go now, Max." (Y/n) bound her arms around her chest but she stumbled back when Max clenched his hand around her arm.

She could feel her lungs deflating and her throat closed up when he stepped closer just as Evan reached them. Evan grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand off (Y/n)'s arm in one swift motion.

"Is there a problem here?" He felt (Y/n) move to stand behind him and it made the hairs on the back of his neck stick up and a shiver rolled down his spine. What was going on here to get his sister so worried? Evan recognised this man. He was on their call out, the man (Y/n) dragged out of his car. What was he doing here at the station and why was he harrassing Evan's sister?

"Nothing that concerns you, pal. Back off."

"(Y/n), you okay?" He looked over his shoulder and managed to relax a little when (Y/n) nodded but her arms stayed bound around her chest out of nervous habit.

"Oh, I get it. You're the husband, right?" Max squared his shoulders and planted his hands on his hips, but the panic was clear in his eyes when Evan turned sharply to look at him.

Evan's eyes dragged up and down Max's frame, taking him in and assessing how best to deal with him. He didn't look like much competition and if he continued, Evan would gladly throw him out of the station. He needed a valid reason to be here and harrassing one of their team members was not a good enough reason to stay.

"No, pal. I'm the brother, so why don't you step away from my sister before I have to restrain you. It's time for you to leave."

When Evan shoved his hand into Max's chest and gave him a forceful push backwards, (Y/n) backed up. She turned and hurried past the truck and over towards the stairs. She wasn't hanging around to cause a scene, the longer she stayed the more irritated Max was going to get so she needed to excuse herself from the situation.

And she wanted Eddie. This was the third time Max had turned up to the station and she didn't like it. She needed to tell Eddie and make him aware just in case Max tried his luck coming by the station again.

Eddie wouldn't let him hang around. If he clocked Max from now on, he wouldn't hold back like Evan was trying to do right now. If someone tried upsetting his wife, they would get Eddie's wrath.

(Y/n) was so consumed looking over her shoulder at Evan that she didn't realise she had reached the top of the stairs, or that Eddie was right in front of her. She barrelled into his chest and grabbed his shoulders to steady herself while Eddie's hands fell to her hips and he kept her tucked into his chest. His lips curved into a smile as he pecked her temple.

"You okay babe?" Eddie watched (Y/n)'s panicked eyes bolt up to him before she looked back over her shoulder. And he followed her gaze to where Evan was clearly arguing with someone and pushing them towards the exit. "Who's he talking to?"

He glided his hands up and down (Y/n)'s arms until her hands moved to grip his shoulders and she dug her nails into his biceps, making him worried.

"Max, the guy from that car wreck last month… he keeps calling by the station."

Leaning forward, (Y/n) tucked her face into Eddie's chest and glided her hands down his arms until she could wrap them around his chest instead. Her hands splayed out on his back and she dragged her fingertips up and down his back, drawing aimless patterns to give herself something to focus on. She felt the way Eddie tensed and stiffened in front of her and she didn't need to look up to know his jaw was locked tight.

"He's coming by to see you, specifically?"

"He asked me out, he wasn't very happy when he found out I'm married." (Y/n) tilted her head back so her chin was pressed into Eddie's chest, allowing her to look up at him.

She felt the way his fingers dug into her hips before he weaved his hands around and wormed them beneath the waistband of her trousers. He kept her chest meshed tightly into his own and his head tilted down to kiss her temple, but he looked fuming.

"If he comes near you again, I'll deal with him." If Max came by the station any more to try and see or talk to (Y/n), he would be dealing with Eddie. (Y/n) had said no. She said she was married and turned him down. He couldn't just ignore her and pretend that it didn't matter and keep trying his luck with her.

(Y/n) had Eddie and she didn't want anyone else. Max was going to realise that sooner or later.

***

"I'll see you later baby." (Y/n) pressed a kiss on Tate's cheek and gave her a tight squeeze before she let go. She watched the two-year-old wander into the house and nodded at the daycare assistant, whispering a quiet "Thank you," before she turned round.

Chris was at school, Tate was now safely at daycare for the afternoon. (Y/n) could head off to work and see Eddie for a few hours before his shift ended and he came to pick up the kids.

(Y/n) made her way back to the car and climbed in, turning the radio up as she pulled away and began to drive. She was doing an afternoon shift into the evening and would finish around eleven o'clock tonight. (Y/n) didn't like working into the evening like this. She didn't do many night shifts anymore, they didn't work well with her body clock anymore and someone had to be home with the kids during the night.

Her fingers began tapping on the steering wheel and her head nodded as she hummed along to the radio and tried to concentrate.

She could feel her mind beginning to wander and she smiled when she thought about being able to see Eddie. She wouldn't have Tate fighting her for Eddie's attention or Chris wanting to join in on their hugs. (Y/n) could just have her husband to herself for a few hours.

Someone was flashing her.

Panic dwelled deep in (Y/n)'s chest and she tried to get a good look in her rear-view mirror but she didn't recognise the car behind her. It couldn't have been anyone she knew, any friend or someone from the station trying to get her attention.

Her eyes diverted down to look at her dashboard to see if she had any warning lights on. Maybe she had a break light out and the person behind was trying to tell her. Maybe one of her tyres was starting to get a slow puncture and the person behind was trying to tell her to pull over before it got worse.

(Y/n) began slowing down and flicked her indicator on to pull over but she stopped herself when she looked back in the mirror.

Slowing down allowed (Y/n) to look in her mirror and see who was driving behind her as the car behind slowed down too.

Max.

He was driving right behind her and his indicator was flashing too. He wanted her to pull over.

Suddenly, (Y/n) didn't believe she was getting a puncture or any lights were out on her car. She had a horrible, dreaded feeling that if she pulled over, Max would try something. He would try asking her out or try and make her get out of the car. She didn't know what he would try and do, but (Y/n) didn't want to wait around to find out.

She turned her indicator off and increased her speed back to the limit. She was only five minutes away from the station. She needed to get to work and see if Max tried to follow her there. If he did, (Y/n) could get Eddie or Evan to go and have a word with him because he couldn't keep doing this.

She moved over into the outside lane and sped up, overtaking two cars to try and keep some distance between herself and Max before she turned off onto a side road. Only a few more turns and she would be at the station.

Max was behind her again.

Adrenaline fuelled (Y/n)'s stomach when she noticed he was flashing his lights at her again. When she looked in the mirror, she could see him sticking his hand out his window to flag her down but she couldn't make out what he was trying to say or indicate. Clearly he wanted her to stop, that much was obvious. But (Y/n) wasn't pulling over. She wasn't about to get herself into a tricky situation.

He drove so close (Y/n) couldn't see his number plate in her mirror anymore and she couldn't risk speeding and get a ticket.

"Oh God, Eddie you'd better not be out on a call," She muttered quietly to herself as she sat forward in her seat and clung tighter to the steering wheel.

A scream burst past (Y/n)'s lips and her chest crashed into the wheel when Max rammed his bonnet into the back of her car.

He'd hit her. He'd actually gotten close enough to force her car forward and most likely dint her boot. What the Hell did he think he was doing? She didn't want to stop for him, couldn't he see that?

He couldn't just go around ramming into her, there were other cars on the road. The person behind him pressed their horn loud enough for (Y/n) to hear and cringe. She kept her foot on the gas until she reached the next turning.

Her body began to shake and her eyes began to water when Max rammed into her car again on the corner. She jostled to the right and hit the curb, barely managing to keep the car on the road when he did it a third time and caused the car to begin juttering down the street.

She wasn't going to make it into the car park round the back.

When Max pulled out beside her and tried to overtake and presumably cut her off, (Y/n) slammed her foot on the brake. She stopped so harshly her chest bashed into the wheel and her neck twinged when her head snapped forward.

(Y/n) was close enough to the station. She was two feet away from the doors, parked hazardly just before the station door so she wasn't blocking the entrance for the trucks, but she was close. She couldn't keep going and get into the car park. Max was going to cut her off. She had to stop now and get out before he drove her off the road and caused a crash.

Tears streaked down (Y/n)'s face when she stumbled out the car at the same time she saw Max hurrying to get out of his own car that was parked five feet ahead of hers.

"(Y/n)! Wait- where do you think you're going?"

Her feet scuffed against the pavement and her breaths got stuck in her throat as her lungs began to heave and burn. She could feel them shrivelling up in her chest and her throat ached when she tried to breathe but all she could do was gasp.

She swung herself around the corner of the door and stumbled into the station before she tripped.

Her hands scraped against the polished floor and something mixed between a gasp and a cry croaked past her lips when she went down on her knees.

(Y/n) scuffed her feet on the floor and bent her wrist at an odd angle to push herself back up and try to run. She had to keep moving. She had to move until she was at the very back of the station or up stairs, surrounded by her team so she would be safe. If she stayed near the door Max would grab her. She just knew he would.

"Babe- wow, wow what's wrong? (Y/n) stop!" Eddie hopped down from the ladder on the back of the truck he was cleaning when his eyes locked on his wife.

He tossed the cleaning rag down into the soap bucket and reached his left arm out, securing it around (Y/n)'s waist when she tried to rush past him. His hand clamped down on her hip and his other hand held the back of her neck and reeled her into his chest.

She ran at such a speed that when Eddie stopped her, the momentum she had crashed his back into the side of the truck and her weight fell on his chest with a thud. He groaned but kept his arms tight around her, taking a second to clear his vision and look down at her.

"Baby what's happened? Talk to me?"

Eddie tilted his head down and moved his hand from the back of (Y/n)'s neck to cup the side of her face. He brushed his thumb across her chin and up her jaw while he felt her fingers scrunch up in his shirt so tightly she almost burst through the material.

"Baby-"

"Max!" (Y/n) spluttered the name before she tried to tuck her face into Eddie's neck, but he wouldn't let her. He leaned back into the truck and tilted her head back so he could look down at her. His thumb pulled at her lower lip and he frowned when he realised how badly she was gasping.

She was going into a panic attack.

"The guy from before? Baby what's he done, did he hurt you?" Both Eddie's hands moved to cup (Y/n)'s neck and he looked her up and down to see if he could find any injuries he needed to worry about. But he felt (Y/n) shake her head in his grip.

Her hands moved to cup his wrists and she tilted her head forward, gasping for air as her body started to shake. She could feel her knees about ready to give way beneath her and her stomach hurt from how deeply it was pulling in, trying to prompt her to take a proper breath.

"H- rammed t-the car… t-tried to crash me."

"He tried to run you off the road?!" Eddie reached up and swiped his thumbs beneath her eyes to wipe away the tears that continued to fall. He could feel the anger fizzling in his veins when (Y/n) nodded.

Someone had tried to cause his wife to have a crash. The same someone that had been hanging around the station to talk to her and try to ask her out. He had tried to hurt her and clearly he had managed to spook her.

"Where's Tate? Is she at daycare?" Eddie looked around as if he was half expecting their toddler to be running around looking for help. But when (Y/n) nodded, Eddie sighed. That was one less thing to worry about. At least (Y/n) didn't have the kids in the car with her when Max did this. That would have been a whole lot worse with Tate frightened and potentially hurt in the back.

A pitiful cry left (Y/n)'s lips when she glanced her head to the left and realised Max was stood in the doorway to the station.

He had followed her. He had tried to come in after her to find her.

Her nails scratched into Eddie's wrists and she wrangled out of his arms to move behind him. (Y/n) bound her arms around Eddie's waist and hid behind him, praying Max wouldn't see her and that Eddie wouldn't leave her to go and cause a fight. Her fingers scrunched up into Eddie's shirt across his chest and her face pressed tightly into his back between his shoulder blades while her chest merged into his back like she was trying to glue them together into one person.

"Buck!" Eddie looked up towards the stairs when he saw his brother-in-law beginning to walk down. "He's back! He's tried to run (Y/n) off the road. Don't let him leave."

Evan paused, coffee cup halfway towards his lips before he realised his little sister was shaking, hiding herself behind Eddie like a frightened child needing protection. He looked around the station to where Eddie was pointing and the moment he locked his gaze on Max, he dropped his cup and bolted into a run.

Eddie tried to move but he couldn't go anywhere when his wife was attached to his back and he could feel her barely breathing into his shirt.

He reached a hand behind him to hold (Y/n)'s hip and he slowly turned around in her arms. He cupped the back of her head and leaned his forehead down against hers with their noses touching and his other arm tight around her waist to keep her pinned into his chest.

"Baby… baby you need to breathe with me, okay? Come on, deep breaths…"

When (Y/n) kept gasping and taking shallow breaths, Eddie shook his head before he swooped in and kissed her. He pulled her lower lip between his and pinned her chest into his own, feeling her holding her breath rather than trying to take fifty tiny breaths all at once.

He nudged his nose into hers and pulled his lips back just enough for (Y/n) to take a deep breath, then he connected their lips again. Not giving her the chance to start hyperventilating. He didn't want her passing out, he wanted her to hold her breath and try to copy his breathing so she could calm down.

"That's it, good girl." He murmured softly into her lips which he swiped his tongue across when he felt (Y/n)'s hands grip his shoulders tightly. "Are you alright, are you hurt?"

(Y/n) shook her head and leaned forward to bury her face in Eddie's neck. She had been shaken up but she didn't get hurt when Max crashed into her. She had been lucky he didn't manage to grab her when she got out the car either, (Y/n) had had a lucky escape.

"Good… can you go tell Bobby to call Athena?" Eddie trailed his hands down to (Y/n)'s hips and started walking her backwards until she was near the stairs. They needed to get Athena down here to make a report and arrest Max. No one was going to let him get away with this.

(Y/n) tightened her hands on Eddie's shoulders and tried to pull him back into her as a frown formed on her face. She didn't know what he was doing when he let go of her hips and gently uncurled her hands from him.

"W-where are you going?"

"I told you if he comes near you, he'll be dealing with me." As much as Eddie wanted to stay with (Y/n), he knew the rest of the team could stay with her and wait with her for the police to come down here.

Eddie wasn't letting this go. Max had started stalking his wife and frightening her and Evan had already told him to stay away and not to dare come back and he wasn't listening. He could of caused (Y/n) to crash. If Tate was in the car that would have been both Eddie's girls in danger. He wasn't letting Evan have all the fun of restraining Max and making sure he didn't get away.

"Baby no-"

"He's gonna need an ambulance when I'm finished with him."

#eddie diaz x reader #911 imagine #imagine #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #evan buckley #bobby nash #eddie diaz

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if-loves · 2 months

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win it all.

// Yandere Aventurine

sum: Aventurine thinks he knows what love is.

wc: 753

warnings: 2.1 main story quest spoilers, perhaps OOC aven

a/n: likes & reblogs appreciated! asks are more than welcome ❤️

Aventurine knows his worth. Sixty Tanba, no more, no less.

He has sat in cages for days, months, years, on end, left to the throes of his mind, starvation and thirst his only partners.

He has stood in front of slave masters and the IPC, gambling opponents and planet heads fearlessly betting his life each and every time. After all, what good is a life worth only sixty Tanba?

Aventurine never hesitates. Bets wait for no one, and even a millisecond of hesitation could spell the end for a gambler like him. All or nothing, both feet in the door or none at all. He’s not one to make half-assed decisions.

When he sees you on a planet he can’t seem to remember the name of, he already knows he wants you whole.

Aventurine is more than happy to wager his life to wrestle back the planet for the IPC. He sees the cocky smile on your leader's lips, and he already knows he has won. Overconfidence is the best monster, he had come to realize many, many years ago.

It’s no surprise when he comes out victorious once more, a calm smile on his face as he watches your leader drown in their anger and disbelief. As a personal reward, he takes you for himself; the IPC and Diamond could care less about a single person. To them, you’re worthless. To him?

He dresses you up in the finest gold the universe has to offer, wraps the fluffiest coats around your body. He clips on the prettiest aventurines he can find, decorating you head to toe in gifts. He watches as hair stylists comb and style your hair, watching in satisfaction as you look up to him, manufactured adoration in your eyes.

To him, you are his love, his darling, his dearest. From what little of love he can remember, he swears he feels it again when he looks at you.

Aventurine holds you close, like he’s afraid someone Katicans would steal kill you; like he’s afraid you’ll disappear just like everyone else has from the slightest blow of the wind. You wouldn’t, would you? No, of course not. Aventurine would never allow it.

Sometimes, he wonders if he’s becoming like those who tormented (torments?) him. He wonders if he is no better than the slave master who bought him for only sixty Tanba, but when he sees you sleeping peacefully in his arms, the finest silk pajamas hugging your body, he knows he is better. No master would pamper their slave with priceless jewels and clothings like he has.

You are his lovely sparrow, his most precious prize, and he has merely… given your wings accessories. Yes, that’s right. He’s not caging you, he’s not hiding you away, he’s protecting you. Who knows what would’ve happened to you after the IPC took over? Subjected to grunt work with no hope of ranking up? Aventurine can’t stand to entertain the thought. What matters is that you’re in his arms, safe and loved.

Penacony is perhaps the first time in a long time that he’ll leave you behind. He’s reluctant, but he also knows that bringing you would only spell disaster for all parties involved, and he doesn’t like the idea of seeing even a single hair of yours out of place - keeping you out of this was out of the question.

He tells you this with a heavy heart, a somber expression, he lays himself bare but all you do is stare into him with the same artificially soft smile, just wide enough to satisfy the crowd (and satisfy him). There’s a silence, and no one says anything, not until -

��I wish you safe travels, and another successful gamble.” Your eyes do not change from the start to the end, even though your smile turns sad, even though you lean into him and take his hands in yours, even though you act like you care.

A bout of silence passes, and another, and another, and another -

“Would you bleed for me?” The words leave his lips before he can truly think them through, but he finds that there’s an aching curiosity in his heart for your answer. He thinks he already knows.

“Of course.” There’s no hesitation, no doubt in your voice. He hears your confidence, assuredness, feels your hands on his cheeks, yet he dares not look into your eyes. There’s an uncomfortable feeling in his chest.

A beat of silence passes. The clock ticks.

“I love you.”

Nothing speaks anymore.

#aventurine #yandere aventurine #yandere hsr #hsr #yandere honkai star rail #honkai star rail #aventurine x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #yandere x reader #hsr aventurine

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wiltedivinity · 4 months

Text

ıllıㅤ𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ; all you saw was red. the blood in his hands, the blood on their bodies, the blood on your own, and the color of the roses you're engulfed in. he wondered at the fact on how far you've brought yourself to get away from him, physically and emotionally, knowing you won't even get to escape a few meters. but you wondered... why?

ㅤ⨯ if any of the following trigger you, please click off: dead dove: do not eat ; non-con ; female!reader ; violence ; (minor character) deaths ; assault ; possessiveness ; yandere themes ; choking ; toxic & unhealthy relationships ; forceful actions ; suggestive themes ; semi-smut ; threats & insults ; angsty? ; childe is an asshole ; not proofread

ㅤ⨯ archive :: taglist :: inbox / appeal information :: 18+ ONLY

Why… Why… Why… You wanted to ask. You wanted to scream out till’ your lungs give you in. Your feet were planted on the ground firmly, refusing to move an inch as you watch the Harbinger pierce his blades into the chest of your mother repeatedly, the water of his weapon slowly being stained with dark blood, blood that’s mixed with different victims that have witnessed his wrath. Including yours. You eye the wound on your arm, the red liquid was still dripping and staining the ground under you. “Why…” it barely even came out as a whisper, more like a simple breath of the wind most people would ignore but not to him. What can you expect from a man that made You, a person he should have cared less for, his main priority in his life.

“Why…?” you sobbed out, bringing your head up from the floor to find him staring right back at you. The Harbinger stands up and carelessly lays your mother figure to the ground before kicking it out of his sight, dissipating his water blades into thin air as blood continues to stain him and maybe you in the process. “‘Why,’ you ask?” Childe hums, making his way towards you, raising his hand to meet your cheek but you slap it away before he could even touch. “Answer me.” you grit your teeth at the man who was smiling sadistically at you.

“Wow, what a feisty girl. Didn’t know you had it in you, love.” he chuckles, his hand coming in contact with your hand, gripping it and dirtying it with mixed blood. You groan and pull your hand away from his grasp and land a hit on his face. You leave him breathless for a second before his pupils dilated, touching the very spot you slapped him on and caressing it. “You’ve changed quite a lot.”

“I could say the same for you, Tartaglia.” you scoot away from him, your fists clenching in case he makes another move on you. He simply just laughs, each breath he takes, his laughter goes lower and lower until he is glaring at you with that very same sinister grin on his face. “As much as everything you do makes me breathless,” he says through his smile, “You speaking my codename isn’t it. Change that up, hun.”

“Nothing you do will make me change what I feel about you.” A hint of resentment was visible in your eyes, your pupils decreasing its usual size. You tried… Tried to seem threatening but to him he adored it. Even if you managed to intimidate him, he wouldn’t really back out, can he? He knows he’s stronger. He’s a survivor of the Abyss, the Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Even if he was the Eleventh, the title of being a Harbinger alone is impressive and shows a symbol of great power and strength.

“You think so?” Childe sniggers. “I know so.” you reply boldly, attempting to stand back up only to get knocked down by the stomach by Childe’s elbow, “Oh, we’re not done yet. You’re staying here until our business is done.” you glare at his response, what does this man mean by business? If he means torturing you more than you know that seeing your family die before your eyes is more than torture. You attempt to dart away from him if standing wasn’t an option but he stops you by gripping your ankle.

“Get your fucking hand away from me, Tartaglia.” you sneer but it doesn’t stay for longer when he has his hand around your neck and pins you down, using it as a leverage. You can see his eyes darkening from your lips simply saying his title. “Like I said… You’re staying here until our business is done, [Y/N].” he emphasized with a growl at the end of the sentence as he quickly squeezed your throat. You felt the wetness in the corners of your eyes drip as he pushed you further into the ground. Eyes widening instantly when you realize he’s blocking your airway by choking you, his grip on your neck was unbearably tight and if he continued to stay like this you would–

You can’t breathe, you’re letting out panic and quick pants from your mouth as you try to get his grasp from your throat by pulling his wrist away but he’s stronger… You know that. So why not give up? You don’t want to. You can’t either. You try to kick him off with your legs punching his gut, Childe only groaned and laughed. “Hah,” he sighs, but that quickly turns into loud laughter.

“Haha!” he jests, pushing you on the floor as your consciousness slowly slips away from you. “Go on! Keep trying, it makes the job easier. Just look at you, turning blue from my hand around your throat.” he muses, a grin forming on his face sinisterly. You want to argue, but not in this situation. You could barely breathe and voicing out your thoughts will worsen. But in the end, you’d faint from the loss of breath and he would win in the end. He can easily overpower you anytime he wants. That’s a perk of being a Harbinger trained under an unknown woman from the Abyss.

“Sleep well. I’ll be waiting.” he coos lowly, your eyelids drooping lower as you let out your last breath before you faint. Once you do, he slowly pulls his grasp around your throat and admires the handprint on it. A nice dull, desaturated red. Almost the color of the blood of his opponents. Childe brings your unconscious body into his embrace and carefully stands up, looking back to see the limp figures of your family members laying on the floor, all bloodied and dismembered from his hold. If he could be honest, it was their fault, they disapproved of him ever since he was a member of the Fatui and the idea of their precious daughter to get associated with him was something they’d never want. You were okay in keeping contact with him and didn’t think much of his status. But that didn’t go through with your family. They even go as far as to separate the two of you and cut all ties with his family in order to keep you safe and away from him.

Oh what a bad decision they made.

Your eyes groggily open, and your body twitches beneath the mattress you were sleeping on. Your hand tries to touch your brow, but something prevents it. You examined your wrists and discovered that it was connected to the headboard of the bed, leaving you vulnerable and unable to move. You struggle under the restraints, desperate to be freed but a door has already been opened before you could move any further. "Ah, you're awake," says a familiar voice from the other side of the room, as footsteps approach your bed.

“I hope you don’t mind the chains. I didn’t want you escaping so this was a better alternative!” A glee came from Childe, that broad and boyish smile of his not wavering one bit when he sees your harsh glare. “Let me go,” you growl, shuffling on the bed aggressively but it only worsens the pain on your wrists.

“Oh come on, don’t get mad at me now. Be thankful you got chained in my bedroom instead of something much brutal.” He grabs your chin to stop you from moving too much, his grip is tight, one wrong breath and he’ll tighten it more so you sit still.

All of the sudden, his grin widens, but not in a good way. “Or maybe you’d like what I originally planned more.” The dark glint on his eyes becomes evident, “But let’s get you fed first. It’s been hours since you’ve passed out and you must be starving after that long!” And it switches up all too suddenly. It’s as if the man forgot that he kidnapped you and did monstrous things to your family.

He then places the tray on a desk near the bed. Childe eyes the handcuffs on your hand and shrugs, “You’ll get used to this.” He assures you, taking the hot, steaming bowl of soup and placing it near your face, the spoon already scooping the broth and placing it in front of your lips.

“Come on. Say ‘ahh’” the ginger-head instructs, blowing air on the spoonful of stew so you’re able to consume it. You wanted to protest but your stomach grumbles before you can do so, making the harbinger chortle. “Might as well open your mouth. It’ll make things easier for you… And your stomach.” He points out.

You purse your lips, shaking your head. This causes Childe to frown heavily, “You really are stubborn, aren’t you?” His jaw clenches, “You’re lucky I’m a patient man. Now, eat.” He shakes his hand, a little too aggressively but not enough to spill the bouillon. “No,” You furrow your brows, turning your head away from the spoon. “You heard me the first time.” You argued back, your fists already clenched. You would’ve thrown a punch on him if you could if it weren’t for the handcuffs.

“You really don’t know who you’re messing with, [Y/N].” The way he spoke your name was strong, almost intimidating. “I can shut the fucking mouth of yours if I wanted to. Hell, I’ll do that right now.” Childe smiles grimly, the sinister gleam on his eyes shine, the hand that was holding the spoonful of soup placed inside of his mouth, his free hand clutching onto your shirt and pulling you raspingly into his lips, forcing you to drink in the hot liquid.

You feel his tongue penetrate through your lips, forcing them open. Your chin was trapped between his fingers and he uses this to tilt your head backwards so you can drink the broth that he pours. You feel yourself coughing into Childe’s lips but he doesn’t budge one bit, only pushing you down the mattress with his arm behind your neck. Your attempts in pushing away were fruitless, so your only choice was biting his lip until it bled.

Fortunately that worked, though he didn’t pull away instantly. He let his tongue explore your mouth before doing so, it seems like he was enjoying how the soup tastes mixed with his blood. Childe lets out a few breaths before looking down at you, the corners of his mouth still stained with a bit of red liquid and dried up broth. “Don’t you think I’m done with you. You barely finished a portion of the soup.” He chuckles, his hand making its way to the bowl to scoop more fluid into his mouth until your foot kicks his thigh, making him freeze and look towards you.

“I-I’ll eat… Just not from your mouth.” You try to reason with him but he continues to drink up the liquid, his cheeks puffing a bit from the soup taking up the space inside of his mouth. You just know that he wasn’t going to do it your way by the way he’s leaning down on you and pressing his lips against yours. Pouring in whatever he has in your mouth yet again. You furrow your brows as tears flow down your cheeks, the taste is bitter. It leaves a bad taste on your tongue and a fog in your mind.

You pant heavily, your chest was visibly rising from up and down as you stare up at Childe without breaking eye contact. The man didn’t show one bit of remorse for what he’s done to you. That shit-eating grin that was spread across his face shows it. He shuffles and rises up from the bed, taking the half-eaten bowl of soup before walking away. The moment he’s at the door, he turns his head to look back at you, eyes watching you from head-to-toe before nodding and walking away, seemingly amused.

You shake on Childe’s bed, throwing your head back as you sob. What have you fucking gotten into? Your eyes are squinted tight, your wrists are still painfully wounded from how forceful Childe was when handling your body not too long ago when you’re trying to set them free from the chains. To set yourself from things getting worse. You couldn’t stop wiggling your body on the mattress in an attempt to loosen yourself from the handcuffs.

This could’ve ended differently… Maybe if you knew and saw the red flags in his letter or the way he acted when he was around you, you would’ve escaped. But you should doubt that. The man’s a Harbinger, a child who fell into the Abyss, a striving and unmatched warrior and most importantly, a manipulative companion who always gets what he wants. And you being a long-time friend only worsens it since the both of you knew each other more deeply than anyone else. He knew your weaknesses, your likes, dislikes and everything.

And you don’t know any of his weaknesses. It was hard to guess. You only knew a few and it was you. But being his weakness also means being his strength, you know how you get him. You were his source of motivation. If you weren’t then he wouldn’t be torturing people to tell him about your whereabouts ever since your family cut ties with him.

“Don’t sleep on me now~ We still have yet to clean you up!” Childe chimes in the room once again, a towel in his hand as he approaches and kneels on the floor. His arms are on the mattress of the bed, his head firmly placed in between them as he stares at you. “I haven’t bathed you properly and seeing the stains on your shirt, you wouldn’t be comfortable sleeping in something dirty, right?” He attempts to sway you. “I may be a bad guy, but I’m no monster.” You wanted to laugh. What the actual fuck does he mean by that?

You decide not to protest. You were too tired to do so and your lips could barely sound out a breath. “Good girl.. You’ve finally learned your lesson!” Childe grins at the wig hut of your tired face, the blush on your cheeks evident from the messy and hard kisses he’s been giving you. He trails his finger on them, slowly moving them downwards until they reach your neck, carefully grasping it, causing you to choke on your deep breaths.

“Good girls deserve rewards, correct?” Childe tilts his head with that stupid grin on his face. He must be proud at how much of a mess he’s made out of you. How much control he has over you. He knows you know it, he’s laughing to himself right now. “So let me reward you..” His smile drops, as well as his voice.

He didn’t waste a millisecond to bring his right arm under your knees and his left arm beneath your back. Shaking you a bit so that you wouldn’t sleep when he bathes you. “Stay awake for me, pretty. Don’t want you drowning.” He snickers with a teasing grin on his face. He takes quick but careful steps to the open door that leads to the bathroom. He sat you down in the bathtub and prompted you to take your clothes off. You can feel the embarrassment bubble up inside of you as well as your jaw tightening. “Come on, now. Don’t get too shy~ You’re gonna get used to this soon enough.” he traces the shape of your cheek before he lets his finger move lower to your neck to unbutton one button of your collar.

“You’re a big girl now, right?” He murmurs softly, grabbing your hand and placing it on your shirt, silently commanding you to undress. “But I don’t mind if I could do it instead. I’d be more than happy to see you trust in me in this.” Childe was trying his best to go easy on you. He knew he wouldn’t go anywhere if he continued to torture you.

He’ll make sure he’s all you can rely on. The only person you can trust in this dim cabin in the middle of nowhere.

“No.. I can do it.” You push his hand away as you slowly unbutton your shirt, each time you show a bit of your skin with each button, his gaze intensifies. He couldn’t help but put his hands on the sides of your stomach, his thumb brushing the soft and bare skin. He leans in and uses his teeth to drag the collar of your shirt to the side to reveal more of your figure. “So pretty..” he praises, licking a stripe of your shoulder. You sat there, frozen and clutching onto his shirt, attempting to push him away.

He notices this and controls his urges. He’s not gonna do anything, yet. “Undress the rest of your clothing for me.” He pulls away and stands up to discard his gloves. You do as he says and unzip your jeans, kicking them off. You were only left with your undergarments and the way he eats up every bare skin of your body makes you feel unsafe to what he’s gonna do next.

Childe really has a hard time breathing at the sight of you. God he’d just take you there right now but he slaps himself to the thought of it. “Not yet..” He scolds himself internally. He’ll do it once the time is right. For now, he needs you cleaned up. “Take those off too.” You swore you heard a low grunt at the end of his sentence but you didn’t dare question it. You unclip your bra from behind, struggling a bit from taking it off before finally letting it fall off your shoulders and onto your lap.

Childe stares at you, admiring every curve and contour but he snaps out of it once your hands lowered to take off your underwear too. His eyes were stuck on your lap and at the sight of your cunt. He lets out a heavy huff he didn’t know he was holding for so long and grabs your undergarments, placing them in the sink. A moment later, he turned on the water faucet and washed your naked body with soap. Occasionally brushing the scars (that he made) with his thumb to soothe you (as well as admiring it as if it’s a work of art.)

It didn’t take too long to finish bathing you. It’s probably the first time you’ve behaved around him but that doesn’t mean you’ll tolerate him for long. Childe gently grabs your chin and tilts it upwards for your eyes to face him. You thought he’d do something he wasn’t supposed to but he just simply caressed the bruise on your cheek. You could only sigh and hope whatever he wanted to do just finishes.

“Let’s get you settled..” Childe gets up from his kneeling position and grabs a white towel. He turns his head and gestures to you to get out of the tub. You did what he commanded and stood up from the water and stepped out of it. You cringe at the cold breeze meeting your skin as the water droplets sticking on your drop to the ground.

You notice the ginger-haired man’s hesitance when seeing your bare body in all of its glory. The water made your skin glisten a bit, all he wanted to do now was mouth your neck, your collarbone, literally anywhere. He wasn’t being picky at this point. He just wanted his hands all over your body.

He couldn’t contain himself much longer and dropped the towel as he desperately strides towards you to wrap his arms around your waist and pull your wet body on his clothed one. His hands obsessively ravaging your hips and your back, “Fuck… So pretty for me, yeah?” He grunts at the feeling of being so close to you, chest-to-chest, trapped in his arms with no escape and no choice but to deal with his horrid affection. “All for me…” His fingers pat your bare hip until it reaches your ass, squeezing it lightly. You froze and clutch onto his shirt, “Stop… Please..” You plead, but he growls. “Fine..” he responds but doesn’t let you distance yourself from him.

Childe grabbed the towel that fell on the floor, he turns to you again and dry your body up, periodically brushing your intimate parts with his lips, saying it was to quicken the process. He wasn’t even trying to make a better excuse.

With one last stroke of the towel around your breasts, he pulls away and admires his work. “I’ll get you some clothes. Come with me.” he places the towel on a towel rail and leads you to– most likely– his room.

He sits you down on the edge of the bed as he explores through a closet of clothes. Maybe… Just maybe you could knock him out. He was really distracted at the moment but you don’t have anything to attack him with. Even if you did, you’d be dead. He’s not that weak nor does he have slow instincts to sense what’s wrong.

“Hey..” Childe snaps his fingers in front of your face, snapping you out of your trance. Your eyes widen and blink a few times before looking up at him, confused. Childe stares at you for a moment before letting out a chuckle and sighing, amused at your act. “Done daydreaming, sweetheart?” he teases before handing you some folded group of clothes. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay like that for too long. But I don’t mind such a sight either way… I’ll think of other ways to heat you up if you let me.” He smirks and you internally cringe at his remark in trying to bed you.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Childe.” You grin awkwardly at him and attempt to grab the clothes from his hands but he refuses to give you it. “[Y/N].” He spoke your name. He sounded mad, as if you did or said something wrong and offending. “Yes, Chil–”

“Don’t call me that.” He cuts you off with a stern tone. The way his eyes narrow at how your lips voiced out his name— his codename to be specific. A name that’s normally used by either enemies or acquaintances that he's barely close with. “It’s Ajax.. Just call me that, [Y/N]. It’s just two syllables and four letters.”

“...”

Childe notices your silence and sighs, feeling frustrated. “Just this once at least.. Please?” he begs and you swore he looked pathetic like that. You can’t believe this is the exact same man who just committed manslaughter yesterday and got rid of your whole family. “...Ajax.” You mussitate, a hint of annoyance within your tone from his persistence.

You were unable to catch the self-satisfied smile he had on his lips. Childe lets out a content hum as he places the pile of clothes on your hands and pushes you to sit on the edge of the bed. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He expresses his mirth fatuously, “Get dressed. I’ll take a bath. Behave for me, alright? Don’t go out without my permission.” He spoke softly, holding your shoulder, his grip was threatening but soon enough softened, taking it out of your body. He stared at you for a moment, his gaze on you didn’t waver as he studied every detail on you.

With a turn of his heel, he left and entered the bathroom, closing it and locking it as water started running inside.

You sat on the bed's edge. Feeling overwhelmed, the sound of his voice, the way his touch sends shocking shocks through your body. You were overthinking what had just happened and didn't see how your body began to shake from the cold. You wore the long-sleeved sweater and pajamas gently, shaking the thoughts out of your head. It strangely fits... Did he get your size while you were sleeping? But it didn't appear brand new if he did manage to get your size and buy clothing for it.

You stood up and walked onto the exit door of the bedroom you were in, looking towards the door where Childe was bathing. When you're close enough, you palm the knob and turn it slowly so as not to create too much noise.

The corners of your lips raise a bit when you successfully open the door but it soon drops when you hear another door creak behind you. “What do you think you’re doing?” an austere voice rumbles from a few feet. Slowly turning your head, you’re met with the sight of Childe’s bare chest that was dripping with hot water.

You were so distracted by his sudden closeness that you didn’t notice his hand closing the door while leaning in front of you so it couldn’t be opened. “Be a dear and get out of the way.” his tone wasn’t as gentle as before. You warned yourself not to get him mad or else you’ll face something you’ll regret. You let out a sigh as you take a step to the side and awkwardly walk towards the bed to sit there again. Childe seems to calm down from the way his shoulders slump as he locks the door. He turns to look at you before making his way over to the bed, “Look at me.” he commands, gripping your chin harshly.

Once making eye contact with you, he stayed silent. You knew what he was saying from how his eyes were narrowing while he let out uneven, heavy breaths.

It didn’t take long for him to pull away in pure silence so he could dress up. Once finished, he crawls over to you and forces you to lay down on the mattress with his arm wrapped around your waist to keep you locked within his embrace. You feel his nose brush up against your nape, breathing in and familiarizing your addicting scent. “You smell divine..” The man murmurs from behind, his hand palming your stomach in a loving way. He feels the way you tense up from his touches and he hums, grinning from the feeling. “Relax… I won’t do anything yet.”

His ‘reassuring’ words only served to stiffen you up. Childe sighs before his grip tightens around you and wraps a leg around your pair. He decided to just stay silent, assuming you’ll get used to his presence around you soon enough. It’s not like you have a choice either way.

“Dear…” Childe murmurs longingly as he turns his body to face yours. He’s been tossing and turning all night during his sleep and he didn’t notice that until now. He opens his eyes tiredly with a sheepish smile as his arms wrap around the soft figure in front of him, “I’m so sorry about that… Did I wake you?” he asks, his tone tinged with a bit of guilt.

No response.

Childe purses his lips as he shakes his head and sits up, gripping what seems to be your shoulder and forcing you to look at him.

But it wasn’t you. It was just a pillow.

Upon his realization, he quickly got up and searched around the house for you. It’s not like you’ve gotten far, right? Not to the point you’re outside the cabin he’s trapping you in. All the doors were locked, windows closed shut so that your weak body couldn’t open it.

That is, until he noticed the front door lock on the floor. He wouldn't have seen your escape if it weren't for the gleaming metal flashing in the dark. As he slammed the front door wide, he noticed footsteps, footprints pointing towards the woodland that encircled the lodge. He grits his teeth before donning the dark, heavy coat that had been hanging nearby before stepping out to get you and take you back inside.

Even though everything was dark, he could see where he was going. Where you were going. It won't be long before he catches up with you. He realizes you didn't go very far. You're too lost in this forest and you'll end up back where you started(. There’s a reason why he set up this specific forest when trapping you). Do you really think you can escape him that easily? He chuckles to himself. It’s amusing. It’s good to have some determination, some hope at least, but it’s also good to be realistic.

You ran and ran as fast as you could, away from the cabin in the woods, away from the creature within it. Your feet hurt severely. You’ve underestimated how harsh the winter of Snezhnaya is, how the breeze alone causes your whole body to turn numb from the cold. What’s worse was that you couldn’t stop moving no matter what. Even a single second counts, driving you closer to your escape.

You struggle to breathe after all that movement, causing you to stumble against a thick tree root. You pant, taking heavy breaths to regain your composure but you can’t really be calm in a situation like this, can you?

You stood up, dusting the snow off your clothes as you continued forward, trembling a bit from feeling the sudden warmth rising up your body. Fuck… This is gonna be the death of you..

You hear footsteps tapping behind you, approaching you slowly and surely. A howl can be heard from behind that was soon followed by a growl. You slowly turned your head in search of the source of the sound and quickly regretted it. The sight of the darkish Rifthounds glaring at you sent a shiver on your spine. They were quite far but it didn’t take awhile for them to start noticing your presence and preparing to teleport or sprint at you.

You saw the Rockfound Rifthound instantly turning its body, disappearing for a second before appearing right in front of you, about to swing its tail to attack you. You shriek out loud, your legs instinctively move to the opposite direction only for you to instantly get knocked forward when feeling the tail make contact with your back. Groaning, you attempt to get back up, ignoring the sights of the Whelps drawing nearer towards you.

You clenched your fist before grabbing a big enough rock and throwing it at the Rifthound that just attacked you to catch it off guard. Seeing it roar in pain and the Whelps looking towards their leader, you took this chance to escape from the creature's grasp.

Never have you felt this much adrenaline rushing through your vines. You felt so dead yet so alive right now…

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a static of Electro rotating over to you. The projectile makes an impact on your side, causing you to get pushed and injured in the process. You grunt gutturally, clutching your hip and left arm, hissing as the sting worsens the more contact it has with your hand and other solid things.

You look over to your side, spotting a Thundercraven Rifthound nearing you along with its accompaniment of Whelps. Your hands swiftly touch the ground swiftly, moving it in hope to find another rock but to no avail.

You were trying to think of a way to escape this but there was no way out. You were surrounded by the mobs, and they looked like they wouldn’t let you off the hook easily. You spot a current of Electro and what seems to be aiming at you. You pulled your arms to your face, blocking whatever was about to touch you.

You hiss at the feeling of the electrifying scratch on the small reveal of your skin and twitch when hearing the wail of the Rifthounds around you. Another guttural sound erupts not so far from where you sit, causing you to press your face deeper into your arms.

“Get up.” Someone spoke, their tone serious and authoritative.

It took about a few seconds to do exactly that. You spot that the Rifthounds were gone, only leaving parts of their body left behind. You knew you weren’t strong but it did surprise you that every single one of them was taken care of. “T-Thank you, mister–?”

“I said– Get Up.” His voice booms through you, causing your ear to ring a bit. You perk your head up with your eyes squinted, “Apologies… I–” A breath was taken away from your lungs upon feeling the man’s hand wrapped around your neck, dragging you from the ground up to the sky. The hand squeezes your throat tightly, making you swing your legs on instinct to kick whoever was holding you. “All under my mercy now, huh? What happened to your acts of disobedience? Did it all get thrown out the window once I teach you your lesson?” The man scoffs, harshly dropping you on the snowy ground and kicking you on your stomach, making you turn and tumble down into a group of bushes.

You hiss, the feeling of small pricks picking into your skin, causing small but nasty scars that leave you groaning. You couldn’t see, some even scratched near your eyes and for you not to get blinded by them, you squint your eyelids shut.

“Please– I’m sorry! Let me out!” You sob, trembling in fear, in the stinging pain of the pricks. “Oh, are you now?” The man walks towards the bush, tapping his foot as he watches you struggling. ”Do you mean it?” He plants his foot on top of the bush, slowly but surely deepening its form to strangle you more.

“Yes– I do! Agh–”

“Beg for your life if you mean it.” He deepens it once more. Even if you were under this confined space of a bush, you can spot the sadistic grin plastered on his face, clearly enjoying every second of your suffering. “P-please… I plead.. For mercy. Please.. I can’t br–eathe-hah!” You breathe heavily in between your words, the form of the bush only trapping you little by little. “Do you promise… Pinkie promise to not escape out of my grasp? To obey my every command, dearest?” You feel your hand being taken out of the bush and into the cold air outside. You whine, feeling the small pricks touch your skin in the process.

A pinkie awaits to intertwine with yours, “I’m waiting.” He reminds by delving his foot deeper, causing you to cry out in agony and wrapping your pinkie around his, “I promise! Please!”

“That’s my girl.” He jests in amusement as he pulls away, cracking his knuckles and stretching his body to dive in and carefully but surely pull you out of the spiky bush. He cringes a bit once spotting the small spikes in your skin. He sighed and decided to take care of them later since keeping you warm was his priority right now. Taking his jacket off and wrapping it around you, he made sure the pricks didn’t bother you on the way back to the cabin. He takes a look at the rose bush one last time before picking one of it up and placing it on the chest of his jacket.

He caresses the petals before his fingers meet your chin to tilt them up, “C’mon.. Rest. You’re gonna need it.” He hushes you quietly before forcefully closing your eyes.and pecking your forehead. You couldn’t soften up in his presence even if you wanted to but the way your body just betrays you, forcing you to go limp to gain rest it needs, it gave you no choice to stay awake even if you wanted to.

“You’re awake, I see..” A voice spoke from above. You twitch, turning your head to the source and furrowing your brows upon spotting the oh-so familiar, scarred and freckled face that was right in front of you. You attempt to push him away by nudging your knee against his abdomen but that was countered from a sharp pain coming from both your legs. “..Ahah–!” You let out a roar of discomfort. Chidle grins and jests upon seeing your face contort in displeasure, “You should think twice before doing that. I still haven’t fully catered your body yet.”

He pulls your leg lightly which is enough for your body to get dragged onto his lap. “Don’t move.” He commands, emphasizing it with a squeeze of your thigh.

You internally whimper when you feel him slowly but surely take the thorns out of your skin. “How cute.” he laughs softly, patting a wet, warm towel on the small open wound. “You’re doing great. Just as you should. Continue behaving for me, will you? It’s not like you’re going anywhere with these.” He plays around with the chains around your ankle that was connected to a wall. “It fits you well, don’t you think?” Childe murmurs lovingly, as if he’s admiring the work he’s done on you… Trapped, under his mercy, with no escape.

After finishing up the wounds on your left leg, he leans in close to your face, his hand cupping your waist to bring you closer to him, close enough to place a kiss on your forehead. “There we go… Such a behaved little thing.” Childe jests before standing up and dusting his pants. “Hopefully this will be enough for you. Sleep well, alright?” He pats and ruffles your hair, his hand sliding down to your cheek and caressing it. “Don’t try escaping me. Because next time, you won’t even get to be sleeping under this damnation.”

You tried to bite his palm because it was so close to your mouth, but he took his hand away and quickly brought it back to hit you, turning your head the other way as your cheek erupted in pain. His hand catches your chin and angles it violently in his direction as you hiss. He's grinning viciously, his eyes twitching with annoyance at your attempt to turn the tables on him again, “Still being a bitch? Thought you learnt your lesson… Maybe I should’ve left you to rot.” He snarled, gripping your chin tighter.

“Waste of fucking breath.” He pushes you against the wall and lets go of you, standing with a displeased expression and turning to take his leave as you groan in pain. You clenched your hands into a fist as you watched him climb up the stairs and reach for the door. Childe looks back, glancing upon you one more time before smiling in content to himself and shutting it, following with the sound of a key locking in.

You were now by yourself. But then again it was much better than having to be breathing the same air as the man who just hit you.

You side meets the dirty mattress under you as you hug your knees, seeing as he didn’t give you a blanket to keep yourself warm. You were unable to muffle down your silent sobs, clutching onto your own cheek as it continued to sting. You question… You wonder, why?

…Just why?

Ouch… Huh?

You groggily opened your eyes, the feeling of something biting your neck. A wet sensation was followed after and you instantaneously snapped out of your tired trance to grab whatever was in front of you. “Ah– Geez… Relax, will you? This mattress is dirty enough.. Wouldn’t want blood to stain it too..” Childe groaned, his hand groping your hip harshly to make you pause. He pulls his face away from your neck, wiping the saliva dripping from his mouth. “H-hey! Have you not had enough already?!” You screeched and tried to get him off of you but were unable to. “Shut it.” he scoffs, shutting your mouth by forcing his lips onto you.

He slips his hand underneath your shirt, touching every part he wishes. “You feel so divine.. I wonder how you’d feel around me, yeah?” He grins against your lips. His tongue intrudes into your wet cavern, drinking in your moans and muffled noises. The wet sounds of his mouth against yours, showing how desperate he is for your taste.

You whine, feeling Childe’s hand exiting your shirt to enter your shorts instead, rubbing the pad of his thumb against your clothed cunt. He sighs, pulling away from the kiss, admiring the string of saliva connecting your lips. Licking his lips, he brings his face close to you until you are nose-to-nose.

“Wanna try that out with me, my dear?”

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