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#i couldn't help the noise i expressed
blizzardfluffykpop · 2 months
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why the fuck do i miss pigeons
#don't ask me i am going thru it today#ebhehbbehbhebhabh#i miss pigeons dude#oooh the poor little domesticed cuties#kate rambles from here#this is a small detail of the feeling i am feeling#like post leaving nyc is wrecking havoc on my psyche#i don't want to be in the fucking great plains#a few irls don't understand my want for city life- and i didn't know it was this bad until staying there for 4 days-#but my mom's whole family is from the city- i just feel so at home there- and everything i've inherited that way is in my blood#and i just wanna bawl my eyes out#i have been quite a bit but like ik i have a goal now- to move into the city- i've always had that goal to at least move to the city near m#but like nyc was like being somewhere i felt i wanted- it's not that i'm looking to make it big- i miss the noise the water and pigeons#around here you'll hear the occasional car go by- and crickets- i miss the city lights- i keep crying about it for so many reasons but#i just don't know how to actually express it?#because it's such an odd feeling for me to feel? because if yknow me well- i love being at home- i hate sleeping somewhere else-#taking a trip down south this last christmas- i couldn't stand the quiet- it's quieter the more south you go and i can't do this#i've always wanted to leave my small town but ?? like actually being somewhere that has felt home has been unattainable bc every#where in oh hasn't been home... and for once i felt like i could do this- and having to return here- just made me break down and cry#maybe it's the person i live with- that makes me wish to leave- but that's not the full truth- idk maybe a good nap will help#kate rambles#i have a life goal now but i wish i could do it now- i hope sooner rather than later i'll at least live in the city#i've been happily living but now i have a direction i wish to run towards- and i'm gonna chase after it#sure i miss seeing tbz i loved seeing them- but it's not even post concert depression- if that makes sense?#which it doesn't make sense- because for mx it was only pcd- but for nyc it's missing the city... and it feels awful#pls ignore this i just needed to be frustrated somewhere#ig knowing what i'm missing- i can finally work on filling that spot huh? i guess that's what i'll be doing#(also vv small point but the fact that one of the people i live with- refuses to ever visit nyc again- is so comforting to me)#pls don't send me an ask about this i just needed to ramble and i haven't caught up on my daily journal yet to do so- so this is here
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lcvemiyuki · 4 months
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“when they get jealous” | hq
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓊝 ࿐𓂃𓂃𓂃
content: haikyuu boys x reader, when they get jealous over someone else
warnings: disgustingly cute, ushijima x reader + oikawa x reader are established relationships, fem!reader
characters: kageyama, oikawa, ushijima
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Tobio Kageyama
'his pettiness would slip out unintentionally'
You and Kageyama often helped each other with studying, so it wasn’t surprising to find the two of you in a coffee shop with notebooks laid out on the wooden table. Kageyama was focused on his work, his brows furrowed in concentration as he scribbled notes in his notebook. You had given him your neat and organized notes to copy down since the ones he took were the complete opposite.
He was having a good time until this guy, claiming to know you, approached the table. While Kageyama isn't the most socially astute, he couldn't miss the way this guy’s hand occasionally grazed yours or the overly familiar tone in his voice. Every laugh and lingering touch made Kageyama's jaw tighter, his pen digging harder into the paper.
You clearly looked uncomfortable with his pursuits, attempting to let the guy down nicely with an awkward laugh here and there.
“So, I was thinking we should hang out sometime—” The man’s flirtatious invitation was abruptly cut off by a loud, deliberate slurping noise coming from across the table.
You turned to see Kageyama, still focused on his work, but now obnoxiously trying to suck up the last remnants of his coffee from the glass cup. The sound was grating, loud enough to draw annoyed glances from nearby customers.
Each time the guy tried to speak again, the slurping noise grew louder and more exaggerated, making the man visibly frustrated.
“Do you have a problem, man?” he angrily spat, now glaring at the nonchalant guy across from you.
Kageyama took his time to calmly put down his empty glass, his fingers lingering on the rim momentarily before he shifted his gaze to the intruder. His eyes, usually so focused and intense, now burned with an unmistakable, cold irritation.
“I don’t know, do you?” Kageyama’s voice was flat and unyielding, his stare piercing through the man.
You could feel the tension in the air, the intensity of his harsh and cold eyes making the man shift uncomfortably.
“Because she hasn’t said yes to a single thing you’ve said since you got here,” Kageyama continued, his tone blunt and unforgiving. “So I suggest you leave.”
The man hesitated, clearly taken aback by Kageyama’s directness and the unspoken threat in his eyes. Without another word, he turned and walked away, mumbling something under his breath.
Once the guy was out of earshot, you turned back to Kageyama, who was already picking up his pen and resuming his work as if nothing had happened. A small, amused smile tugged at your lips.
“You didn’t have to do that, you know,” you said softly, a hint of gratitude in your voice.
Kageyama glanced up, his expression softening slightly as he looked at you. “I didn’t like how he was talking to you. It made me uncomfortable.”
You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. “Thanks, Tobio. I seriously mean it.”
A faint blush tinted his cheeks as he nodded in response, trying to focus back on his notes.
But, he simply couldn't as his attention kept drifting back to you.
𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼
Tooru Oikawa
'he'd try to one-up the person with blatant rudeness'
Oikawa loves spending time with you. When a festival was happening in your hometown, it was a given that he’d go with you. The vibrant atmosphere, the colorful stalls, and the joyful crowd made it a perfect date. He left you alone for a split second to buy some takoyaki.
When he returned, he saw you stopped in the middle of the crowd, awkwardly laughing with some other guy. His smile faltered slightly, a hint of annoyance flickering in his eyes. He playfully nudged your shoulder, interjecting himself into the conversation and cutting off whatever unfunny joke the guy was telling you.
“Hey, sorry for the wait,” Oikawa said, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. His smile was charming as always, but his eyes held a sharp glint as he did a quick look up and down at the guy.
“Wow! Y/N, I didn’t know you snagged a boyfriend while you were away!” the guy laughed with a strain.
Oikawa didn’t miss the way this guy’s gaze shifted slightly, revealing a brief flicker of distaste towards him. His own smile turned to a sneer at the sight of it.
‘Huh, this little prick,’ Oikawa thought, recognizing him as the classmate who had a crush on you in high school. That memory only fueled his irritation, making him want to pull you away from this conversation even more.
As each second passed, the more Oikawa showed how much he didn't like this guy. “Wow, it sounds like you had a great time in high school. But I’m sure nothing beats the fun we have now, right, love?” He directed an innocent smile at you, but you could feel the air thickening with intensity.
Turning back to the guy, Oikawa continued, “It’s so cute how you still remember those high school days. I guess some people never move on from their glory years.”
Your eyes widen at the jab and side-eye your smiley, 'I didn't do anything wrong' boyfriend next to you. You didn't know if you wanted to laugh or pinch him for making this even more awkward than it is.
You curtly said goodbye to your classmate, not wanting to drag this out any longer. Without waiting for a response, you grabbed Oikawa’s hand and dragged him away.
Oikawa's disdain towards your friend was clear, his expression contorted with thinly veiled annoyance. He stuck out his tongue in a childish display of disapproval, causing the classmate to stand there, taken aback, and scoff in response.
As you both silently walked beside each other, Oikawa’s demeanor softened, realizing he might've overdone it a tad with this one. “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said, his voice gentle and sincere. He squeezed your hand, looking at you with an apologetic look.
“No, I'm sorry,” you sighed, glancing up at him. “I should've told him I had to go right when he approached me and look for you. Instead, we were put into an awkward situation."
Oikawa frowned slightly. "You don’t have to apologize. I just—I didn’t like the way he was looking at you."
You stopped and turned to face him, placing your hands on your hips. "Tooru, you need to stop being so childish. Sticking your tongue out? Really?"
His eyes widened in surprise. "You saw that?"
You raised an eyebrow, a mix of amusement and exasperation on your face. "Of course I saw that. You think I wouldn't notice?"
He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Okay, okay, I admit that might've been a bit much."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't help the smile tugging at your lips. "A bit much? Try a lot. You can’t keep doing that."
His pout returned. "But he was—"
"No buts," you interrupted, playfully poking his chest. "I can handle myself, alright? And you definitely don't have to worry about any other guy. You're the only one I want."
His eyes sparkled at your reassurance, his smile widening. "You know, there's no one else I'd rather have but you~" he playfully coos back, earning a soft slap to the chest from you.
𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼
Wakatoshi Ushijima
'he barely gets jealous, but when he does, his reserved demeanor slips with subtle signals'
You frequently showed up to Ushijima’s practices to support him, admiring his dedication and skill. Today was no different, but what you didn’t know was that there was a new player on the team. He was quite charming and flirtatious, so when he saw you, he couldn’t help but make a move.
“Hey sweetheart, are you lost?” the new player approached you, his hair matted with sweat and a cocky grin on his face.
“Oh no. I’m Y/N, Ushijima’s—” you started to explain, but he cut you off.
“Fan?” he guessed, leaning closer.
“Um, no—” you tried again.
“Sister?” he interrupted, his eyes scanning you with obvious interest.
Before you could speak again, a deep, familiar voice cut through the conversation, “She’s my girlfriend.”
Ushijima’s imposing presence seemed to cast a shadow over the new player as he gently placed his hand on your shoulder, his touch light yet protective. You felt a slightly sweaty chest lightly press against your back, sending a shiver up your spine. His olive eyes, usually calm and composed, held a steely intensity as he assessed the situation.
“Is everything alright, Y/N?” Ushijima asked, his voice steady but carrying an underlying edge.
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and warmth at his presence. “Yes, everything’s fine.”
The new player, clearly taken aback, tried to recover his composure. “I didn’t know, man. Just thought she was lost or something.”
Ushijima’s gaze didn’t waver, and his grip on your shoulder tightened ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing just a fraction. “She’s here to support me, as always. I’d appreciate it if you respected that.”
The new player nodded, mumbling a quick apology before retreating to the court. As he walked away, you could feel the tension slowly dissipate from Ushijima’s body, but his eyes remained on the player for a moment longer, his gaze eyeing him like a hawk. Ushijima never shows his emotions normally, but seeing you flustered and a bit uncomfortable by someone else had his jaw set tighter than usual.
Turning back to you, Ushijima’s expression turned non-rigid once more. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” The lines of tension in his face smoothed once he met your gaze.
You smiled up at him, the warmth of your hand over his on your shoulder conveying a silent understanding. You plant a light peck on his hand, a gentle affirmation of your gratitude. “It’s okay, Toshi," you whispered softly, your voice carrying a soothing tone. "You should go back to practice."
He nodded, his lips curling into a rare, small smile. “Just let me know if anyone bothers you.”
You leaned into him, feeling the solid reassurance of his presence. “I will. Thank you.”
As the practice continued, he kept a close eye on the new player, making sure there were no further incidents.
𓇼𓆉𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆉𓇼
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eddiesxangel · 4 months
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Just Peachy | E.M
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TJ’s 2K request celebration!
Anonymous asked: Hey i was wondering if i could request a friends to lovers eddie x reader, its romantic and the tension finally breaks, its their first time with each other and the reader absolutely blows his mind sucking and fucking him, shes the best hes ever had and he wasnt expecting it to be THAT good, hes just sprawled out flushed and sweaty like hes seen god 🤭🤭 Im just imagining him trying to get up to pee and his legs give out, he face plants in the hallway, his cheeks just out 🍑 and youre both giggling
wc: 2.9k
Cw: friends to lovers, your and Eddie’s first time together, smut, oral (f + m) , p in v, talks about cuming inside but Eddie is wearing a condom.
Concealing your emotions around Eddie had become increasingly taxing over the past couple of months. Although you've been friends for a little over a year, you couldn't help but notice that something had shifted in your interactions with him.
You felt giddy when you were together. Your face, cheeks, and ears would feel on fire whenever he complimented you. You also found yourself thinking about him first thing in the morning, and when your head hit the pillow, fantasies of you and he would play in your mind until you fell asleep.
The flirting between the two of you was so unbelievably blatant, and any time you innocently did it in front of your friends, they would make gagging noises. You never thought much of it because that’s just how you and Eddie were, that’s how you’ve always been, it was never serious for you, until it was.
It was one particular comment he had made that made it all switch for you. It was late at night, and you and he had been smoking together at his place. He’d told you that “you are the only person in the whole world who makes him feel whole.” You could have kissed him right then and there, and that thought scared you.
Ever since that night, Eddie has always been at the forefront of your mind, especially on the night of that party, when he expressed his feelings for you during a game of truth or dare.
In all honesty, Eddie had been set up by Dustin and Steve. They were tired of hearing him go on and on about you for a year and a half, so they fed Eddie a bunch of alcohol and insisted on playing a game of truth or dare.
Finally, when it was time, Steve asked Eddie, “Who do you like?” He drunkenly but confidently said your name. You hadn’t believed him because he was so drunk, but Nancy reminded you, “Drunken thoughts are sober words.”
When you were both sober the next morning, you marched your way to the trailer to set the record straight. You needed to know if what Eddie said had any slice of truth to it. At first, he refused to even look at you, embarrassed by his actions, but when you confronted him about it, he could only nod his head ‘yes.’
Your stomach erupted with butterflies as he confessed he’d always liked you like that. Like more than a friend. He didn’t want to lose you because you’re one of the most important people in his life.
You didn’t let him finish speaking because your lips were on his. This kiss was everything that you had wanted it to be. It’s the type of kiss you’ve only been dreaming about every night before going to bed.
After one of the best makeout sessions of your life, Eddie insisted he take you out on a proper date before things moved forward because “you deserve the world.” His words, not yours.
Dating Eddie was fun and easy. You were such good friends before, so you were already comfortable with one another, but now you got to steal kisses and hold each other's hands without worry. The only problem was that you’ve been on five dates with Eddie, and neither of you has yet to make a move past steamy makeouts.
It was weird, in a way. He was your friend, and you didn’t want to seem too pushy, and neither did he. You both were too chicken to let one another’s hands roam too far without worrying about the other's reaction.
Eddie didn’t even know if you would want to have sex with him. You said you liked one another more than a friend, but you were you. You are everything to Eddie, and if he fucked this up by moving too quickly, he would never forgive himself. So, he played it safe.
Stolen kisses on cheeks, innocent hand holding—he wouldn’t initiate further than kissing until you wanted, but the problem was that you and he never talked about it, and he was not picking up on your signals.
It was coming to the end of your sixth date with Eddie, and you would be damned if you let the night end with you in your separate beds.
Eddie walked you to your door and went for a kiss goodnight, but you stopped him, “I want you to come inside.” You smiled sheepishly, and Eddie, nothing but your local follower, humbly listened to your request.
“Can I get you a drink? You ask as you guide him to your living room couch.
“Sure, I’ll take whatever you’re having.” Eddie rubs his sweaty hands over his jeans.
You come back a few moments later with two beer bottles in hand.
“Thanks,” Eddie smiles, seemingly more comfortable.
“Eddie, can we talk about something?” You ask nervously as you sit down.
Shit, here it was. You want to go back to just friends.
“S-sure” Eddie swallows the lump in his throat, the confidence suddenly drained out of his body.
“Do you think I’m attractive?”
“What?” This is not where he thought the conversation was going.
“We’ve known each other for so long, and this is our first date, and we haven’t… you know…” You look down, embarrassed to say what is on your mind.
“Haven’t what, sweetheart.”
You take a deep sigh, building up your confidence.
“Sex.”
“Oh uh-I”
“It’s ok if you’re not attracted to me-“
“What! No! God no!”
“Then why haven’t you made a move?”
“I didn’t want to scare you away…”
“Scare me away?
“ I’m obsessed with you to the point it’s a bit embarrassing.”
“And I’m not obsessed with you?” You counter back.
“I didn’t think you’d be into me like that…”
“It’s all I think about.”
That was the confirmation that Eddie needed to hear.
“So do you uh,” he ears his throat, “want to umm.”
“Yes,” you nod your head enthusiastically.
Slowly, Eddie leans in to kiss you. It’s soft and gentle until you lean in and press into his lips more.
A low moan leaves Eddie’s throat, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as his hands trail up your upper thigh to your waist, pulling your body closer and closer until you are straddled on top of him.
Finally, he was taking control like you had wanted for so long. You pulled away to catch your breath, pushing Eddie’s brown tendrils out of the way so you could latch your lips onto the side of his neck.
“Mmmm, baby,” he moaned.
Your heart skipped a beat with his words; that was the first time he’d called you that, and you yearned for more.
“God, I want you so bad.” his breath had become heavy as his chest pumped up and down.
“You have me, baby,” you bravely let slip the pet name.
“Fuck” he groaned as the blood rushed down to his stiffening cock.
“How do you want me?” Your confidence was growing with each passing touch.
“Fuuuuuck, you can’t just say shit like that to me, sweetheart.”
“Why not?” You pout playfully.
You could feel his cock against your cunt, and you rolled your hips to test out the waters.
“Oooh! You are a dirty girl.” Eddie grits through his teeth as he stills your hips by gripping onto your ass, and a wave of arousal floods your lace panties. The panties you’ve been saving for each passing date.
“Can I suck your cock?”
“Yes,” Eddie blurts out without a second passing thought.
You slide off the couch, and Eddie shifts forward for you before he undoes his pants while you place a pillow under your knees.
The butterflies in your stomach still haven’t settled as you wait impatiently to see what he looks like. From what you could feel in his lap, he wouldn’t disappoint you.
As Eddie shifts the fabric uncovering his cock, your mouth waters with anticipation. You’re mesmerized by the sight of it, it’s long and thick, and the tip is so pink it’s just begging to be sucked, kissed and licked.
Eddie watches as your face turns into a grin as you bite your lip. You’re entirely giddy as you lean forward to take his hard length in your hand.
A soft “fuck” leaves Eddie’s lips as the tips of your fingers brush the shaft and take it into your gentle fingertips.
“You’re so big,” you purr.
Eddie was about to respond but your mouth is enveloping his cock.
“Oh my god,” he sputters. He cannot believe that this is his life, that he is here with you at this very moment. He never thought his most intimate daydreams would one day come to fruition.
Eddie snapped out of his own head as you sunk down lower and lower until you reached the back of your throat. You tried to breathe through your nose, but it was too much, so you returned to catch your breath.
“Holy shit, baby!”
There he goes, throwing around that word again, which makes you melt for him. All you want is to please him, to make him feel good.
“You like that baby? You like sucking on my cock?”
Fuck, he has a dirty mouth.
A whiny “mmmmmhmmmmm” fills the room and only enhances Eddie’s pleasure.
You feel his hands grip your hair, pushing it out of the way for you. So ever the gentleman.
“Need to see you, pretty girl.” There was no way Eddie was missing the sight of you taking him in your mouth because a bit of hair was in the way.
Eddie was trying everything in his power to not buck up his hips into you and down your throat. You were making it so hard because you were so good at this. Too good…but Eddie couldn’t let his mind wander about how you are so good at head. No, he will allow himself to enjoy this moment. He’s waited 20 months for this moment.
“Baby, baby, baby,” he chanted as your mother slid up and showed the shaft, swirling your tongue on the tip each time before repeating it over and over and over again.
You can’t help but touch yourself as you’re also pleasuring your boyfriend. The way his words were affecting your body was too much to ignore any longer.
“Oh my god, you’re so hot; I need you; I need you now.” he watched as your fingers slipped between your skirt and your ruined panties, and he couldn’t take it anymore. God, he wanted to fuck you so badly.
“Mmmmmm, Eddie, please fuck me.” You remove your mouth and replace it with your hand as you jerk him off.
Your face is dripping with the mix of pre cum and saliva. Your eye makeup was a little smudged from the tears from when you gagged on his cock, but Eddie never thought you looked more beautiful.
“Come here.”
“You going to ride me baby? Show me how much you want me? Or are you going to let me fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”
“Who needs legs anyway” you let out a shaky laugh.
Eddie’s face morphed into a mischievous grin as he threw you over his shoulder and brought you to the bedroom.
He flopped you on your back, and you landed with a giggle that quickly was cut off by a hot kiss.
Before you knew it, you were both finally naked, and Eddie was taking in every inch of you like he was committing your body to memory.
“Perfect,” Eddie whispered before leaning in to kiss you. “Perfect,” he moved down to kiss your neck. “Perfect.” He muttered into your breast, taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth and making you arch up into him. He repeated his actions until he got to your weeping pussy.
“Oh baby, look at you, you’ve been crying for me, haven’t you… You just want so much attention; that’s why you’re so wet for me. Don’t worry. I need you just as badly.” He stuck out his tongue and ran it up your slick slit making you let out a long, drawn-out moan.
“There’s my girl.”
Another wave of arousal washes through you at the term of endearment.
“Holy shit,” you try and catch your breath, but his tongue keeps going.
Eddie fucks your pussy with his tongue so good you can’t believe this is real. He’s eating you like you’re his last meal, and he’s enjoying every last drop.
“Eddie, baby, oh god!” You’re cuming in his tongue before you even comprehend what’s happening to your body.
“Did you just!” He pops up in shock that he was able to make you cum in a few short minutes. In all honesty, he was kinda sad it didn’t last longer. He loved being between your legs. It was his new favourite spot.
A breathy “uh-huh” leaves your chest as you soak in the euphoria.
“Can we…. Do you want to?…. I can—”
“Fuck me. Fuck me now, please. I don’t want to walk tomorrow.” You begged in your fucked-out needy state.
“Keep talking like that baby.”
“I need you so bad; I’ve wanted you to fuck me for so long, please, Eddie.”
You were so long in your begging that by the time you had finished talking g Eddie already had on the condom and was aligning himself with your pussy.
“Are you ready?” he asked, and you answered by pulling him into another long, passionate kiss—one full of wanting and need, one that was much overdue.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Eddie mumbles before he slowly slips himself into you.
The stretch was so good; you had been more than prepared for his cock, so when he entered you, all you felt was pleasure.
“Oh god.” You clawed at his back, biting down on his shoulder, pussy clamping down on him.
“Fuck, your pussy is so tight.” Eddie was already having a hard time fighting off his orgasm as his hips slowly rocked back and forth into you.
“More.” You plead.
Eddie situated himself so he could fuck you like he meant it, to fuck you so good you’re seeing stars.
“Be careful what you wish for, baby.” You had no idea what was coming when it came to sex with Eddie.
He was an animal, a beast, a man untamed.
His hips start getting faster, and his movements are calculated and raw. Each undulation of his hips into you was so delicious you could no longer think. You’re crying out as his cock hits your sweet spot in each thrust. He works his cock into your pussy as it sucks him in each time, taking him in willingly and refusing to let go.
“That’s it, baby, taking my cock so good” he watches as his cock disappears inside of you, gripping onto your soft inner thighs to spread your legs as wide as they can go.
“Look at that baby,” his thumb brushes your swollen clit, “so pretty and puffy for me,” he praises, and your pussy clamps down on him once again.
“Oh, she likes it when I’m nice to her, huh?”
Fuck he needs to stop talking to your pussy, or else you can’t hold on much longer.
“I want to come!”
“Come on, my cock, baby, show me you’re mine.”
That did it for you. Your second orgasm takes over your mind, body and spirit. Your floating on a cloud as Eddie rolls his cock into it and runs your clit so good you’re seeing stars.
Eddie is out of breath, but he still continues chasing after his own orgasm.
“I want you to come,” you mindlessly say, not realizing you're talking.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you full of my cum. Is that what you want?”
“Please! Give it to me, baby,” you pout, and the look on your face sends Eddie over the edge.
Jagged breaths fill the silent room as Eddie collapses on top of you before he rolls over to catch his breath.
“Wow.” Is all you say before giggling.
“Did I rock your world or what.”
“Yeah,” you sigh. It's too bad it took you this long to do it; we could have been doing this for weeks now.”
“Hey, come here,” he drags you into his arms, stealing another kiss.
“I’m going to get a towel.” Eddie sits up on the edge of the bed so he can take off the soiled condom and toss it in the trash.
Not realizing how shaky his legs are, they give out, and he falls forward.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” You start laughing.
“God damn, I fucked you good, didn’t I?” he laughs.
“And you said I was the one who couldn’t walk tomorrow.” You shriek in a fit of giggles as Eddie lay on the floor, ass up face down.
“You’re a goddamn succumbs, you know that? Sucked the life right out of me.” He laughs into the floor.
“Your ass is like a fuzzy peach, I want t to bite it.”
“Why don’t you come over?” he says, dragging you into his arms. And have a taste, then.
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eternityofend · 6 months
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Another type of milk.
PAIRING: Francis Mosses x Female!Reader ( Slight Doppelganger!Francis Mosses x Reader. )
Requested: Can I request something for Francis, the Milkman? Like the scenario is: Y'all be talking then, they do it under the desk while the reader is working?
MDNI +18, NSFW.
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You scroll through your phone, time ticking with each passing second as you get even more bored. Your job as a doorman was nice however the hours needed to work were plenty enough of time for you to wish you had never taken up such a job in the first place.
You hear a tap on the window as you see Francis in front of you, holding a carton of milk in his hands, his movements were sluggish and his eye bags were darker than when you last saw him.
You ignored the concern building in you and tried to find your wallet to pay for the milk you ordered from Francis, keyword: tried. You frantically searched your pockets and the drawers but there was no sign of a leather wallet in all of the places you searched.
Francis stares at you with a blank expression, completely minding his own business as he didn't question the amount of time it took for you to find your wallet.
"Hey.. can I pay you up in a different way?"
Francis raises his eyebrows, skeptical about your request but nods his head; far too kept up with how much time this delivery was taking. He wasn't used to social interaction anyway, he just wanted to get out.
You motion for him to come into your office, opening the gate for him and closing it once he went through.
A few minutes later, Francis knocks on your door and you let him in, he's still holding onto the carton of milk which you help him put on your desk.
"Mmmm.. so what's this different method of payment are you talking about?.." Francis mutters, his voice husky with the tiredness he felt from his job, tone as curious as ever.
You walk up to him, putting your hand on his chest while smiling innocently.
Francis looked at you with a curious expression, gulping as he was nervous about what you were going to do with him.
Francis looked at your eyelashes, and your pretty eyes, trying to distract himself from the weird thoughts he was thinking; perhaps he was watching too much inappropriate stuff, he should limit himself on that.
"Do you live alone?" You asked, knowing well what his answer would be.
Francis tore his gaze away from you, now staring at your wall. "Yes.."
He hears a small laugh come from you, and his body feels tingly with extreme nervousness. Why were you laughing? Did you expect him to have a roommate or something?
"So you have no one to milk you at home then?" You whisper in Francis's ears, watching him tense up as he caved in to your voice and touch.
You saw the way his knees trembled to hold onto his body, cheeks turning redder than the scarlet milk he frequently delivers.
You put a hand on his cheek, making him look at you with a smile on your face. "Let me help you, that's my payment." You utter, watching his eyes widen as he came across a conflicted statement-- not knowing what to choose.
You really didn't have to wait long.
Francis stares up at you, hand on his mouth as he leans against the wall, ears flushing with blush as he attempted to conceal his noises from you, afraid of someone hearing.
You rubbed your shoe against his bulge, looking at him with a mischievous look on your face, wanting to make him cum from a dry orgasm before you fully fuck him.
"Ah~ Hnn~ Ngn~" Francis moans out, his sounds muffled by how hard he was biting on his hand, throwing his head back at how lewd your method to pleasure him was.
His eyes were teary and his cheeks were flushed, he looked as if he already got fucked by you even if you hadn't advanced that fast yet.
You grin, pressing on his erection with the heel of your shoe-- enjoying the way he stuttered, gripping onto your leg with his free hand.
A tap on the window stops you from admiring him longer, and Francis panics. He couldn't run out because it would be suspicious if the visitor were to see someone come from below your desk, he didn't want to spread rumours as well if someone recognized him.
So he just sat there, both hands covering his mouth.
Wait.. what were you doing?
Francis bites onto his hand, heart pulsing as he felt your shoe rub more against his dick, you were crazy! Why were you still continuing?!
You grinned, twirling your hair as you faced a doppelganger of one of the visitors, not even having to check the ID to know it was a doppelganger.
You had to admit, it sure mimicked the resident properly, but if it weren't for the real Francis already being below your desk, you would've let the doppelganger of Francis in, there were barely any differences as well.
"Oh? My appearance..? I don't quite follow.." The doppelganger muttered, trying to keep calm as he felt rage from how fast you figured out he was a doppelganger.
You were not only a pretty doorman but a smart one too, the doppelganger held back on transforming, wanting to see if he could still convince you that he was the real one.
You chuckle at the doppelganger's confused expression, adding a bit more pressure to your shoe as you pressed on Francis's erection, hearing a small moan come out of him.
The doppelganger's eyes widened, looking around as he was confused at where the noise came from.
What a shame, you'd so tease the real Francis using the doppelganger if only you weren't allowed to spread the fact that Doppelgangers existed.
"I'm sorry, but I don't quite think I can let you in."
You rang the DDD and let them handle the situation, completely forgetting about Francis beneath you, trembling at how much pressure he was receiving.
By the time you remembered about him, you were already finished with the doppelganger situation, seeing him all teary and red just from your shoe.
You laugh, lifting his face up as you stop rubbing your shoe against his dick, grinning at him with a new idea in mind.
"Let's start with the milking process now, shall we, Milkman? But first, why don't you eat me out first?"
You catch his flustered expression as he nodded, moving his hands all the way to your thighs as he got rid of your panties.
Francis moves closer to your pussy, licking on it as his eyes widened from the taste, it was much different than the milk he was used to.
You let out a breathy moan, spreading your legs wider as you felt Francis shove his tongue straight into you, eating you out as if he was a man that was starved for years.
His tongue flicks against your clit, and you let out a full moan, suddenly closing your thighs around Francis's head, he didn't seem to mind however.
"Shit... you sure know how to eat pussy.." You mumble, biting on your lip as you run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the sensation of his cold wet tongue.
Francis's hooked nose makes you moan as it pressed against your pussy because of how close he was.
You moan, throwing your head back when you feel Francis's tongue licking on your clit, lapping it up as if it was water.
Your grip on his hair tightens, clenching down on his tongue as you orgasmed.
Francis moans beneath you, the vibration running across your entire body making you shake and tremble.
You breathe out, your pussy pulsing while Francis explored your insides, eager to drink up all of your cum, not letting a single drop go to waste.
You pull Francis's head away to face towards you. And the moment you see the expression on his face, your pussy twitches at the sight. His eyes are half-lidded, staring at you while his tongue and mouth were filled with your cum.
Francis smiles, and swallows your cum right in front of you, making you bite your lip from how aroused you were.
"We aren't done yet, Milkman." You grin.
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But apparently the story is done! I hope you enjoyed the story, this is my second time writing smut :)
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rowarn · 10 months
Note
I just know that after that night, Victoria tried to call ONCE. Why once tho? Because Simon answered the phone in the middle of a very intense session, whispering in reader's ear to moan louder for him. After she heard the loud noises and Simon's soft voice she never tried to call him again.
simon riley / reader — set in the please love me universe!
fucking while on a call, jealousy, creampie, possessive!reader, vocal!simon <3
you were completely lost in pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head with simon's large body blanketing yours. your hand was clasped tightly in one his as he rutted his hips slowly and deeply, making sure to angle his hips just right so he could hit that sweet, gooey little spot inside you that made your entire body shiver with pleasure.
simon was obsessed with forcing your body to show every bit of what you were feeling. holding you down so you couldn't do anything but twitch and shake, forcing you to look at him so he could see the way your eyes filled with tears when he hit a little too deep.
he's slowly working you up to your 3rd orgasm of the night when the spell between the two of you is completely broken by the shrill ringing of his cell phone on the bedside table.
both of you freeze. it's not the ringing that comes when someone from the task force contacts him. the two of you share a brief look of confusion before he reaches over and grabs the device off of the night table.
you could see the second his facial expression changed and a sense of alarm rushed through you.
"what is it, si?" you ask, tugging his hand down so you could see his screen.
the number was immediately familiar to you -- it was her again. victoria. her name burns as it goes through your head.
to your horror, simon slid the call button over and answered, ignoring the indignation on your face. there's a coy little smile playing at the edge of his lips and you want to wipe it off because it's making you angry.
you can hear her shrill voice yapping away the second he answers, pressing the speaker button and tossing the device onto the bed.
you try to tune in to what she's saying but he starts rutting his hips, grinding his pelvis against your clit while he's got his cock snug inside your gooey cunt.
your eyes roll back at the feeling and you can't help the way you gasp from how good it feels.
"that's it, baby," simon coos, sitting back on his heels so he can bring his thumb down to lightly pet the swollen bud of your clit. the makes you moan louder and you faintly hear her voice from the phone ask, "si? what are you doing?"
hearing her call him that - so familiarly, like she has any claim over him makes you seethe.
simon grins when he sees that jealous flare in your eyes. he thinks it's cute - that you of all people are jealous. don't you know that he's completely and utterly devoted to you?
he pulls out just a little bit only to stuff his cock back inside. that pulls a beautiful moan from you that makes her go silent on the line. she calls his name again, clearly growing more agitated and humiliated.
"c'mon, sweetheart," he coos to you, "hold your legs for me, let me get real deep, yeah?"
you immediately do as you're told, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them back against your chest. the position allows him to get even deeper, pressing against that little spot deep inside that makes your toes curl and cries of pleasure rip from your chest.
he starts fucking your properly again, sticky sounds coming from between your thighs from how wet you are. your creamy arousal coats his cock and drips down his balls, making a mess of him all over but he loves it.
"oh! i-i'm gonna cum, si," you squeal, legs twitching in your hold but you don't let go, scared that if you move at all your orgasm will be lost and you'll have to start all over, "j-just like that, please don't stop!"
simon grits his teeth, biting back a moan of his own when he hears how sweetly you beg for him, "i know, baby. i'll get you there, you know i will."
you nod your head, eyes wide but vision blurry as it builds and builds until your entire body is tense. with one little pinch to your swollen clit, you cum with a wail of his name.
"shit. shit!" simon groans, tossing his head back to moan, "fuck, that's it. cum on my cock, cum, baby, cum. oh shit, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you."
his body falls over yours, face buried in your neck as he fills you up just right, his cum oozing out from around the tight seal your cunt has around his cock. his pace gradually slows before he comes to a stop all together.
he reaches over to grab his phone, panting and trembling from how hard he came. when he looks at the screen, he snickers, turning to show you that the call had been disconnected.
you just hope she stayed around long enough to hear that he loves you and took the hint <3
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imaginaryf1shots · 3 months
Text
Sunshine | Oscar Piastri
WC: 1.3K
Grumpy!Oscar x Sunshine!reader
Summery: (REQUESTED) Oscar's girlfriend is the complete opposite of him, while he's always calm and collected with a serious aura she's all sunshine and rainbows.
Warning: none
Masterlist
Oscar Masterlist
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Oscar is known for being serious, he's always calm and collected and doesn't talk much. He's focused, driven and always had his eyes set on the prize. There have been jokes about his serious demeanour from other drivers and the media. Maybe because he's so calm that he attracted you, or maybe it's just that opposites attract. Because you're the complete opposite of Oscar. You're a whirlwind of energy, always smiling, always talking and you just have a knack of making friends wherever you go. You were the sunshine to Oscar's dark clouds. You balanced each other perfectly, and your relationship worked. The pre-race paddock is filled with activity as the teams get ready for the upcoming race, where the buildup for the weekend comes overwhelming. The team were doing last minute checkups as they raced against the clock. 
Oscar sat in a corner in the McLaren motorhome, headphones on, eyes closed, he already stretched and did his rituals before the race. He was in the zone, visualising the race ahead. It was the calm before the storm and he used the time to centre himself and block all the noises around him. Just then the door opened and as you walked, you practically skipped across the room when you saw Oscar. A radiant smile on your face, as you beelined your way to him. 
"Oscar!” You called out, your voice cutting through the hum of conversations and machinery. "I got here just in time, you wouldn't believe how busy it is outside, it's like the whole population is outside."
Oscar opened his eyes and took off his headphones, as his serious and focused expression softened, and like always he smiled at the sight of you. "I'm glad you didn't get lost, like last time." 
You pout and throw your arms around him in a quick hug, your pout quickly melting into a smile. 
"Of course I found it, I had to find you and I got my lucky charm and everything." You held up the 81 keychain you always carried on race days. Lando was standing nearby and checking his helmet, he noticed you. He turned his head and raised an eyebrow, he nudged Max F. who was looking at his phone. 
"Mate, look at Oscar." Lando whispered, a grin spreading on his face. "His girlfriend's here, and she's like a walking sunshine." 
Max glanced over and chuckled. "No way, that's his girlfriend? She's so... lively." 
"I know right." Lando nodded, still grinning. "It's hard to imagine Oscar with someone so talkative." 
You're completely oblivious to the eyes on you as you continue your rapid chatter with Oscar. 
"So, I was just talking to some fans outside, and they're all rooting for you. I told them you're going to nail those hairpins like nobody's business, and oh, I brought you a sandwich, just in case you're hungry, I know how you get before races." 
Oscar laughed softly, shaking his head as he took the sandwich from you. "Thanks y/n, you always think of everything."
You beamed, clearly pleased with yourself. "Well, someone got to keep you fed and focused! Oh and did you see the new liveries? They look amazing! I was telling the guy at the garage that they should add glitter. Everything's better with a bit of sparkle, don't you think?"  
Lando could hear you clearly form his position and he couldn't help but laugh and shake his head in amusement. 
"She's really something, isn't she?"
"Yeah, I would never have guessed Oscar was into someone so... upbeat. But it's nice to see him smile." Max nodded, still watching the scene unfold.
As you continued to chat, your voice is full of excitement and energy, Oscar's teammate couldn't help but feel a bit lighter. Your enthusiasm is infectious, a stark contrast to the usual tension-filled atmosphere before a race. Oscar glanced around and saw the curious eyes of his teammate and his friend. He gave them a nod, acknowledging their presence, then turned back to you and smiled. 
"y/n, you're amazing you know that?" He said, his voice warm and filled with love. You laughed, brushing off the compliment with a wave of your hand. 
"I just want to make sure you're in the best spirits before a race, you've got this Oscar, I believe in you."
Oscar's hands landed softly on your waist as he pulled you closer, you didn't resist and walked into his arms for a long hug. Oscar kissed your cheek before he let you go, and you bounced away to find a spot in the garage to watch the race, leaving a trail of smiles and good vibes in your wake. Oscar watched you go, a rare look of contentment on your face. Before they had to head out to the grid, Lando couldn't help but comment. "Oscar's lucky, she's like his personal sunshine." 
Max nodded a smile on his lips. "Yeah, I guess even the most focused drivers need a little bit of light in their lives." 
The race ended with Oscar in P2, you ran to parc ferme with the team to see your boyfriend get out of his car. Oscar got weighted before he made his way to his team, he was the first of the top 3 to park, he was hugged and patted on the back as the team was all smiles. 
Oscar took off his helmet just as he reached you, your grin was wide.
"Oscar, that was incredible! You were absolutely amazing out there!"
You exclaimed, practically bouncing on your feet. 
"Thanks, y/n, it was a good race." Oscar said with a small smile on his face. 
"Good? Are you kidding? You were fantastic!" You continued sounding a bit offended with his words. "The way you handled that chicane, and then the overtake on lap 28! Oh my gosh, I thought I was going to have a heart attack, and the final laps were just... wow!"
The engineers chuckled, exchanging amused glances. They weren't used to seeing this kind of energy. Oscar chuckled softly, shaking his head. 
"Yeah, it was a close one, but it all worked out in the end."
Your eyes sparkled as you leaned closer as if you were about to say a secret but everyone could hear you clearly. "You know, I was talking to the guys from McLaren, and they said they've never seen a more focused driver, but I told them that's just Oscar, cool, calm and collected under pressure, they're really impressed."
The other winners, media and teams gathered around couldn't help but smile at your infectious enthusiasm, even Andrea and Zak who were watching from a distance were grinning. Charles who finished in P3 nudged Max who finished in P1. 
“She's like a human energy drink, how does Oscar keep up with her?" Charles whispered.  
"I have no idea." Max chuckled. "but it's kind of fascinating to see." 
You're oblivious to the whispers around you, and continue to entertain everyone with your commentary. "And when you came out of that pit stop, I knew you had it in the bag! I was telling everyone, 'that's my boyfriend' he got this." 
Oscar failed to keep his serious façade, and laughed.
"y/n, you're making it sound like I'm a superhero."
“To me, you are." You declared proudly, you threw your arms around him in a hug. "You're my hero, Oscar Piastri." 
The team captivated by the two of you couldn't help but break into l applause and cheers, it was clear how much your support meant to Oscar. Oscar was pulled for interviews and the usual post-race activities. On Max's weekly podcast, he was heard asking Oscar. "You've got quite the cheerleader there. How do you handle all that energy?"
Oscar shrugged his eyes, twinkling with affection as he thought about you. He left you talking animatedly with a group of mechanics. 
"She keeps me on my toes, and honest, I wouldn't have it any other way."
Max laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, it seems to be working for you, congrats, mate."
"Thanks, Max.”
Maintaglist:
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03
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vivwritesfics · 10 months
Text
On Stream - LN4
While Lando streams, his girlfriend tries to study. Except she couldn't study, not when her boyfriend was so damn distracting (and he was really trying his best to be distracting)
Based the stream that has us all floored (boy why you whining and moaning?) but i refuse to mention the streamers name because he scares me
1.2K
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Lando's girlfriend didn't mind it when he streamed. He'd sit in his room, door open so he could turn and see Y/N sat on the couch any time he wanted.
This time, as he streamed, Y/N sat on the couch doing her university work. She hated to admit it, but she'd left it to the last minute, with it due in the next day. So, stressed, she sat on the couch, typing away at her computer.
As Lando got ready to stream, he turned towards the door, waving her over. The stream had only just started, with not that many people watching.
"Lan," she said, leaning against the door frame. "How's the stream going? What're you playing?" She asked.
The stream could see her, could see what he was wearing. There were some that fawned over it, that thought she was adorable wearing an LN4 hoodie, and there were some that were insanely jealous.
But Lando wasn't looking at the chat, he couldn't see the comments being made.
He held his arms out and Y/N walked into them, pulling his head into her chest. "I think we're about to play Fortnite," he said as the people he was waiting for joined the stream.
Y/N pulled a face, which generated an insane amount of comments. "If you're playing fortnite I'm not staying in here," she said and pulled away from him.
Lando pouted, but the chat couldn't see it. All they could see was his head tipped to the side, hair held in place by his headphones.
"Right, I love you but I've got work to do," she said and kissed the top of her head.
But Lando didn't let go of her. He blinked up at her, lips pursed as he waited for her to kiss him. Rolling her eyes, she leaned down to kiss him and walked out of the room, returning to her laptop.
As the stream got going, Y/N tried to get on with her university work. It wasn't easy, especially when Lando started doing that shrieking laugh that he did. It wasn't annoying, one of Y/N's favourite sounds, actually.
But not when she was trying her best to do work.
"Lan," Y/N began as she walked towards the room. "Do you mind if I shut the door.
"Is that Y/N?" Max Fewtrell shouted as they kept playing.
"Baby, come here!" Lando shouted as he kept playing, his avatar running after Max's.
Y/N looked at her boyfriend. She took a moment before she began shutting the door. "No, Y/N, keep it open!" He insisted and Y/N pushed the door back open again.
She went back to her work, but it was near impossible to concentrate. Especially when Lando began moaning into his mic. "What the fuck," Y/N whispered as she looked to her boyfriend.
He was leaning close to the microphone as he let out a series of moans and whines. It was incredibly fucking distracting, especially when he began giggling.
So, Y/N went to go and get a snack to "help her study". She grabbed a bowl from the cupboard, poured some sugar into it and grabbed some grapes from the freezer.
It was delicious, a delicacy. As Y/N bit into these frozen grapes and rolled them around in the sugar, she walked back toward where Lando was streaming.
She watched for a minute, watched as he killed Max. And then she strode into the room, holding the bowl out towards Lando. "Lan," she said and he turned towards her. "Snack?"
Lando scrunched his face up as he looked into the bowl. "Is that grapes and sugar?"
"Frozen grapes and sugar."
He still wore that scrunched up expression as he turned back to his stream. "You little weirdo," he said as she bit into a frozen grape. Lando heard the crunch and pretended to gag. "That's grim, grapes shouldn't make that noise."
Sticking her tongue out, Y/N out of the room, returning to her work. But then Lando started moaning again.
She couldn't work. Not in these conditions. Y/N saved her work and shut her laptop. She could finish it tomorrow, just a few hours before the the deadline, but she couldn't work like this.
"You're lucky you're cute," Y/N mumbled as she leaned against the door. Lando turned, his character dying as he did so. He gave Y/N a grin, the kind of grin where he had his eyes closed, and turned back to the stream.
And then he heard the shower in the room next door turn on. There was music, too, Y/N's playlist going as she showered. Although Lando couldn't hear her singing along, he knew it was happening. He started singing along, quietly into the mic as she and Max continued to game.
The chat began blowing up, asking what the song is. When Lando saw it he leaned back in his chair, looking up as the ceiling as he tried to work out what the song was. "Uh, oh! It's The Police song!" And then Lando began humming the tune to 'Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic'.
As Y/N showered, Lando sang along to every song. When she stepped out of the shower, got changed into her pyjamas and made her way to where Lando was, he was still singing along to the song that had been playing as she stepped out of the shower, another 80's song.
"Can I sit in here while you stream?" She asked.
A very eager 'Yes!' left Lando's lips and Y/N sat herself in the beanbag he kept hidden behind his chair.
She leaned her head against the wall and watched Lando stream. He was loud, having fun, laughing so hard he was almost crying, but Y/N still found herself falling asleep. Doing uni work all day was surprisingly exhausting and, in no time at all, she was snoring.
Lando didn't notice at first. How could he, when he had his back towards her? It was only when his chat started blowing up, informing him of what was behind him, that Lando noticed.
He took the headset off his head and turned around. The chat had been telling him to shut up and to move her, but Lando knew her better than that. If he tried to move her somewhere quieter, or if he himself was to shut up, she'd wake up, complaining that he's not being loud enough for her to sleep.
Have you ever had somebody love you so much that they fall asleep to the sound of your voice? Even when you're shrieking?
That was how much Y/N loved Lando. She slept through him doing that moaning and whining again, and even when he said the most unhinged things. The chat saw her stir slightly when he said 'come to daddy' and you just know that was overanalysed.
After a good few hours Lando finished the stream. He turned around, scooped Y/N up from the beanbag and took her to bed, kissing the side of her head as he carried her to the bedroom.
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kaeyas-beloved · 11 months
Text
a moment too late
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Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli
— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...
CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name
val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist
I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....
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Thinking about them not making it in time...
Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.
He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."
When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.
When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.
It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.
There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.
It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."
He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.
"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.
"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.
The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."
The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.
The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.
His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.
What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?
You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.
He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.
Silence.
"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.
The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.
For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.
For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.
That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.
———
Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.
It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?
Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.
When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.
By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.
With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.
In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.
“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.
“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.
The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.
The gods weren't in his favour.
Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.
The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.
He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.
It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.
"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.
The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.
Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.
And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.
You were alive, but at what cost?
———
Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.
Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.
The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.
Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”
A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.
Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.
Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.
At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.
He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.
And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.
"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.
The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?
His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.
Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.
He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.
When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.
From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.
It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.
———
Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.
The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?
Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.
As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.
How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?
The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.
Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.
It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.
You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.
You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.
So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.
But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.
———
Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.
By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.
Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.
He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.
"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.
You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."
"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."
Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.
There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.
“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.
They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.
Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."
His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"
Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”
He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."
You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.
It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"
There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.
The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.
One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.
"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.
You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.
Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?
Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.
Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.
Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.
You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.
So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.
From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.
"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."
It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.
———
Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.
It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.
It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.
Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.
Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.
Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.
The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"
When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.
"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."
The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"
“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.
It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”
The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.
Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."
Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.
"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."
"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.
All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"
He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.
Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.
"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"
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sinkovia · 8 months
Text
Consequences
-Simon Riley x Fem!Reader
Angst, mention of miscarriage, mention of death, blood.
Alternative ending
You sat on your bed, a book in hand, your other hand gently resting on your stomach. The room was filled with a warm and serene atmosphere as you flipped through the pages. You were reading about first-time parents and tips on what to do when you first bring your baby home. It was a moment of quiet joy, and you couldn't help but smile.
You were happier than ever, your face radiant with the anticipation of the life growing inside you. After a string of painful miscarriages, you had made it past the usual time period of uncertainty. You were now six months pregnant, and the relief of reaching this milestone was evident in your expression.
You and Ghost had been trying for a baby for the past two years. Each time you got pregnant, you miscarried around the three-month mark. His deployments often left you feeling lonely in the house, and it was time for you to expand your family. The idea of having children had always been a shared dream, and you were now well on your way to realizing it.
Ghost had just returned home, his hands full of grocery bags, which he placed on the table with a heavy thud. He was in the midst of a heated phone call, and you could hear his loud, strained voice from the adjacent room. Closing the book, you set it down on the nightstand and slowly made your way to the kitchen, your footsteps filled with a sense of anticipation.
His voice grew louder as you approached, you strained to listen as you heard his words spill from his mouth, the tension and frustration evident in his tone. He cursed in exasperation, abruptly ending the call and slamming the phone down on the kitchen counter, the resounding noise echoing in the room.
"Is everything okay?" you asked him, walking up slowly, your voice filled with concern. He took a deep breath, his gaze heavy and tired, and then turned to face you.
"Price is deploying me," his words landed like a heavy blow. Your heart sank, and your eyes began to well up with tears.
"What do you mean Price is deploying you? You told me that you talked to him about not sending you on missions while I was pregnant," your voice shaking with emotion. You took a step closer, desperation creeping into your tone.
"You did talk to him, right?" searching for any sign of reassurance. But he wouldn't meet your gaze, his eyes fixed on the counter. Your heartache deepened, and a single tear escaped, tracing a path down your cheek.
"Simon!" you cried, flinching as he slammed his fists down onto the counter. He raised his voice, his frustration turning into anger.
"For fuck's sake, Y/n! No, I didn't talk to him!" he shouted, and you were stunned into silence. The words he spoke were a painful betrayal. You remembered vividly that he had assured you he'd spoken to Price about this.
"I never got around to it, okay? I didn't think you would make it this far. I assumed you would miscarry again, so I didn't bother telling him. I'm sorry, okay?" he admitted, his voice laced with guilt. The room felt heavy with the weight of his confession, and disbelief washed over you as you struggled to comprehend what he had just revealed. Your heart felt as if it had been torn in two. The man you loved and trusted had let you down in a way you never thought possible.
"Are you serious, Simon?" The disbelief and pain in your voice was thick as you confronted him. "This whole time, you were just pretending to be happy, but in reality, you were just waiting for me to miscarry again?" The weight of your words hung heavily in the air, and you fixed your gaze on him, waiting for his response.
He couldn't even bring himself to look you in the eye as you spoke to him, and his voice was heavy with guilt as he admitted, "Yes." Your tears were now falling freely, and your chest ached with the pain of betrayal. He moved past you, grabbing his keys from the counter, his actions leaving you bewildered.
"Where are you going?" you asked, your voice a mixture of confusion and hurt. You moved closer, positioning yourself between him and the door, your determination to address the situation clear in your eyes.
"I'm going out; I need a drink," he responded, his words sounding callous and uncaring. You scoffed in disbelief, feeling the need to get to the bottom of this situation.
"No, you're not. We need to talk about this—" You reached for his hand, but he forcefully ripped it away, turning to glare down at you, his anger laid bare.
"There's nothing to fucking talk about, y/n. I'm deploying in two weeks, and nothing will change that!" He raised his voice, his frustration evident.
Your heart ached as you took a step back, struggling to understand his behavior. "Why are you acting like this? Why are you yelling at me?" you asked, your voice trembling as tears continued to fall.
"Because I'm fucking stressed, y/n. I didn't think you would make it this far into your pregnancy. Now, I'm getting deployed, and I don't know when I'll be back," he snapped, his own frustrations and anxieties taking over.
"Why are you taking it out on me?" You couldn't hold back the pain in your voice. "It's not my fault you didn't tell Price. You should have told him. I'm six months pregnant, Simon! How long were you going to wait until you told him?"
"Did I say it was your fault?!" he shot back, his anger flaring. "I know what I should have done, but I didn't, and now we are here. Now, get the fuck out of my way."
The harshness in his words cut deep, and you looked up at him in disbelief. He had never spoken to you like this before. While you knew his temper could be volatile, he had never taken it out on you in such a way.
"No, I don't want you to leave," you pleaded, trying to keep him from walking out the door. "We need to work this out, Simon. You know how I feel about things like this." You were insistent on resolving conflicts, always wanting to talk things through.
"I don't care how you feel; I don't want to talk about this right now," he retorted, his voice filled with frustration. "I need a fucking drink, so get out of my way." The desperation in his words hung in the air, and you couldn't believe the person he was becoming in this moment.
You shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. "No, I won't let you leave." Your resolve was strong, and you were determined to keep him here until you could address the issues at hand. His frustration had pushed him to a point where he was leaving the house in anger, but you couldn't let that happen. You would never let him leave the house when you guys were upset with one another. It was always something you were insistent on.
His hands went to your shoulders, and he harshly moved you out of the way. You stumbled, almost losing your balance, but you steadied yourself. He walked out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving you alone with a heavy heart and a whirlwind of emotions. You couldn't hold back the overwhelming flood of emotions that consumed you, and you collapsed onto the floor, your body wracked with deep, wrenching sobs.
In all the time you had been together, he had never laid his hands on you in anger like that. His temper was known to flare, but this was an entirely new level of intensity, especially considering he was the one at fault for the situation. You remained on the floor for what felt like an eternity, weeping into your hands, your heart heavy with a mixture of pain, betrayal, and despair. It was an hour of solitude in your sorrow before you mustered the strength to get up.
Getting up to your feet, you made your way to your room, your phone in hand, desperate to reach him. You attempted to call him, your fingers trembling. But just as you were about to press the call button, a sharp and agonizing pain coursed through your stomach, stopping you in your tracks. You were begging, repeating the words, "Please, not again," as you made your way to the bathroom, tears filling your eyes. You were in agony and feared for the well-being of your baby.
You collapsed on the bathroom floor as the pain became nearly unbearable, unlike anything you had experienced before. It felt as though your insides were being torn apart, and you couldn't bear it. With trembling hands and tears streaming down your face, you pressed the dial button and called Simon, your voice choked with pain and desperation.
You cried out as the agony radiated through your body, each moment feeling like an eternity. The phone rang and rang, but there was no answer from him. It eventually went to voicemail, leaving you with a sinking feeling of abandonment and despair. As the pain intensified and your vision blurred, you set the phone down on the bathroom floor, your sobs echoing through the empty room.
Your trembling hands moved between your legs, coming away soaked in blood. Panic and fear gripped your heart as you propped yourself up against the toilet, leaning over it for support. Desperation consumed you as you reached for your phone once more, this time dialing 911 in a desperate attempt to get help.
But the blood on your fingers made it difficult, and the phone slipped from your grasp, landing with a sickening splash in the toilet. Your heart sank as you watched the screen turn black, your lifeline to assistance lost in the crimson-stained water.
Tears streamed down your face as you sat on the bathroom floor, gripping your stomach. You watched as the blood began to pool beneath you, and you cried out in anguish. You mustered all the strength you could, attempting to get up from the cold, hard bathroom floor. You needed to get help. Panic and agony coursed through you as you struggled to rise.
The pain was unbearable, and you knew something was terribly wrong. This was beyond the point of a typical miscarriage, given how far along you were in your pregnancy.
As you moved, a searing, relentless pain tore through your body, causing you to scream out in sheer agony. You lay on the bathroom floor, helpless and writhing in pain, your body refusing to cooperate.
An hour had passed, and in your hands, you held your stillborn baby. You sat against the bathroom wall, surrounded by a growing pool of your own blood. Emotions swirled within you, leaving you feeling numb and empty. You asked yourself what you had done to deserve this.
Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring the world around you as you sat there, grappling with the reality of the fifth baby you lost. Your body was supposed to be nurturing new life, but instead, it had betrayed you once again. It felt like a cruel and never-ending nightmare.
With great pain and effort, you retrieved a small box from under the sink. You had experienced miscarriages so often that you'd prepared for such moments, stashing the small boxes under the sink. Gently, you placed your baby inside and closed the lid, tears still silently falling.
You lay on the cold, tiled bathroom floor in a growing pool of blood, your body trembling with exhaustion and pain.
In your arms, you cradled the small, delicate box, the weight of grief pressing heavily on your chest. Every passing moment seemed to drain you further, and the relentless flow of blood showed no signs of stopping.
Each breath became more laborious, your vision blurred, and you could feel your strength waning with each passing second. Your sobs and cries were replaced by an eerie silence as you struggled to hold on, the world fading around you as you clung to the precious, heartbreaking reminder of the life that would never be.
Ghost, sitting at the bar with Soap, had been sharing the situation he was in. It was late into the night, and the bar's dim lighting seemed to reflect the weight on Ghost's shoulders.
He ended up calling Price again, explaining that you were pregnant, and the conversation had been a long and tense one, going back and forth as they argued about the deployment. Finally, Price made the decision not to deploy Ghost on the mission.
With a deep exhale, Ghost felt a mixture of relief and guilt. He knew he had to make things right with you for the hurtful words he had spoken. For the way he treated you when you only wanted to talk it out. For breaking the promise you made to each other to never leave the house when one was upset with the other. Soap patted him on the back, offering his support and reminding Ghost that he really needed to make it up to you.
They ordered a few more drinks, and as the night wore on, they both realized they were in no condition to drive. It was then that they decided to walk to Soap's house, which was conveniently located only five minutes from the bar.
Their plan was to return in the morning, and whoever was in better shape would drive to the store to pick up the things Ghost needed for you.
Morning came, and they walked back to the bar to retrieve Ghost's car. Ghost ended up driving to the store where they selected a variety of items, ultimately deciding to make a basket filled with things you liked.
In the passenger seat Soap arranged the items in the basket while Ghost took a quick detour to the florist, picking out the largest and most beautiful bouquet of flowers he could find before going home.
Soap followed close behind Ghost as they entered the house, he placed the gift basket in the kitchen, and Ghost slowly made his way to the bedroom. He slowly opened the door, and noticed that you weren't in bed so he started to walk over to the bathroom.
He stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed the blood that had seeped from under the bathroom door. Panic surged through him as he rushed to open the door.
His heart dropped, and his breath caught as he found you lifeless, lying in a pool of blood. Your gaze was far away, and you held a small box beside you. He recognized it immediately – the same small boxes you used for the miscarriages.
With a rush of emotions, he took a hesitant step forward, but his balance wavered as he almost slipped on the blood-soaked floor. Rushing to your side, he carefully set the small box aside, his trembling hands unsteady. Ghost cradled your cold face in his hands, tears streaming from his eyes as he sat on the floor, your blood seeping into his clothes.
"Y/n baby look at me, please look at me, love. You're okay, it's okay, it's going to be okay."
He called out for soap, who was in the kitchen. Soap attempted to approach you, but Ghost, his voice strained with grief and guilt yelled at him.
"Johnny just call 911!" he hurried to the kitchen to make the call, leaving Ghost alone, cradling your lifeless form, lost in a world of anguish and guilt.
He called out to you, his voice a desperate plea, but there was no response. Ghost's cries of anguish filled the small bathroom, echoing the unbearable pain in his heart. Tears streamed down his face, and he continued to rock back and forth, cradling you against him.
His voice quivered as he muttered, "I'm so sorry, y/n... It's all my fault... I should have told Price… I should have told him…" he breathlessly whispered against your cold cheek. The weight of his regret was crushing, and the burden of knowing that his actions had led to this moment was almost too much to bear.
Simon held your lifeless body in his arms, the weight of your cold form pressing on him physically and emotionally. The room felt suffocating, and the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood and grief. As he cradled you, all he could think about was the what-ifs and the guilt that gnawed at his conscience.
His mind tried to replay the scene of your final moments over and over. The thought that you were in pain, alone, and scared haunted him. He pictured you suffering, reaching out for help, and he wasn't there for you. The echoes of laughter and clinking glasses from the bar where he was drinking seemed deafening in his mind. While he was having drinks with Johnny you were here, alone and dying.
His eyes wandered to the toilet, where he saw your phone lying there. A chilling realization struck him — that missed call he ignored. Did the phone slip from your weakening grasp after calling him for help? Did you wait for a lifeline that never came? Guilt, heavy and consuming, pressed down on him, making every breath a struggle.
In that heartbreaking moment, Simon felt the weight of the consequences of his actions. The regret and sorrow mingled with the deafening silence of your absence, creating a painful symphony of remorse that would echo in his heart forever.
The memory of his last words to you, spoken in anger, haunted him. Those words, "I don't care how you feel," echoed in his mind like a relentless mantra. He wished he could turn back time, go back to that moment, and change everything.
He longed to take back the hurtful words he'd spoken and to be there for you in your time of need. He wished he had never stressed you to the point of pushing you into another miscarriage. But it was too late, and the reality of the consequences of his actions had come crashing down on him.
Grief enveloped him as he clung to your lifeless body, your silence an agonizing reminder of the happiness he had let slip through his fingers. The guilt and regret were insurmountable, and Ghost's world had shattered into a never-ending nightmare of his own making.
Alternative ending
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prettyboykatsuki · 5 months
Text
✮ tags ; gn! reader, established relationship, fluff, alcohol.
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"Shouto,"
"Hm?"
"You're drunk,"
Your boyfriend leans his head on your shoulder and makes a noise in the back of his throat. "A bit."
More than a bit, you think. In actuality, you don't think you've ever seen him this drunk before. He's okay with alcohol, usually - but tends to stay away from drinking too much. You think the last time you saw him get actually drunk at all, you were both twenty and he was barely tipsy then.
He doesn't like getting drunk, he's told you before. A few times. The lack of control and hazy memories make him just slightly anxious, so he's careful around liquor.
You've been dating for years now, and unless he's living some double-life (a different one than being a hero) - you've never seen him get this wasted. Ever. To everyone else in your surroundings, it probably doesn't look that way.
But you've spent enough time to know him, and he's not like this usually. Nowhere near as absent minded he is now, at least. He hasn't been able to sit still since he downed that last bottle of shochu. He went to go play with Bakugou's cat, Momo and you couldn't find him afterwards. You lost sight of him for about half-an-hour until you finally found him in the living room while everyone else was outside, feeding Momo some treat that squeezes from a tube.
(You still don't know where or how he found where Bakugou kept the treats, but you decide it's better you don't ask. Plausible deniability, or something.)
You're both grown-ups, and you're not one to worry about his liquor intake. Still, though - you're worried. Even if it seems like he's not different to everyone else, you can tell. And it's bothering you.
"Shouto," You call out to him, your hands reaching to pet the back of his neck. He's a head taller than you, and a little heavy. Palms smooth against the prickly ends of his hair - tapered and neat. He presses his cheek to your shoulder. "Shouto, love."
"Oh," He says, suddenly remember where he is. He stands up but doesn't back away far enough to give you space. You're in a far off empty corner. Most people are in the backyard but Shouto wanted some air - so you're crowded against a wooden fence and wall with your boyfriend locking you in out by the entrance. He smells nice, you think - clean with a soft touch of aftershave. You look up at him. "Hi,"
"You're drunk," You repeat, watching him blink rapidly - bleary eyes and the faintest line of a smile whenever he glances at you. He's bent over, staring at you hard. "Is something wrong?"
His expression is the same as always. Unchangingly neutral with a strong and uncharacteristic rosiness to it. Your boyfriend is handsome, alarmingly so. You're aware of it constantly, but this new face knocks the air out of your lungs.
He's... pouting you think. But not fully. His lips aren't drawn together, it's subtle like most expressions on him.
But it's...there. You're not imagining it - the soft furrow of his brow, the press of his lips. His expression grows warmer and it only makes you more confused. He shakes it off, all of a sudden, a micro-expression that fades just as quickly as it appears.
"I'm okay."
"Are you?""
He blinks slowly at that. Concern aside, you can't help but think he's cute like this. His ears are pink enough to stick out against his skin, cold air making them flush even darker.
"I'm okay," He says, then looks at you. He sobers up if only for that moment. "Had something on my mind."
"Something you can't tell me?"
"It's supposed to be a secret," He mumbles. He's really drunk. You realize this late. "So I don't know if I can."
"Mm," You reply. You feel like doting on him suddenly, so you do, petting the back of his neck before hugging him a little. "That's okay."
He follows up with a light groan. You've never heard him complain like that, so you laugh. "But I want to tell you."
"I promise I'll keep your secret at least."
He smiles at you more fully that time.
He pauses for a minute, thinking it over. You don't do or say anything in return. A beat passes of you two standing and swaying with silence where Shout to grabs your hands from in front of you. You think he's being affectionate again, wanting to hold them.
He draws your hands to his pocket though. The angle is awkward, makes you bend your wrist on the inside of coat pocket until you feel something hard and square touch your fingers. It's velvet from the material. A box of some kind.
...A box?
Shouto guides your hand again, this time out. When you pull it out, his palm is over yours. It's a jewellery box. You blink a few times, confused. Shouto hasn't let go of your hand.
"I keep missing the timing," He says, hiccuping. The lack of sobriety more clear than ever from the slight slur in his words. "It's been in my pockets for a while."
Your eyes go wide open. You can feel your own confusion and excitement twist and tangle inside of you, frantic to get a better read on the situation. He smiles down at you, disarmingly and then closes his eyes. His forehead is warm as it touches yours.
"...I thought you didn't want to married. Not really, at least." You whisper.
"Me too," He says, a wetness to his laugh that tugs at your heart . "It was on a whim. I wanted to talk to you about it. But." He frowns a little "It's tough."
You chuckle, a sudden wetness to your voice too. "I bet it was,"
He smiles at you, big and stupid. "I love you," He closes is eyes and presses his forehead to yours more. "Thank you for everything."
"Shouto," You repeat, unsure of what else to say. "What brought this up?"
"Mm," He shrugs, getting sleepier by the minute. "I thought giving you my last name would make you suffer." He admits, soft and unsure. "But taking yours. That felt...okay. Felt nice."
"You're silly."
"Yes," He says, not denying it. "And I love you."
"And you love me." You repeat, a grin splitting your face. Big tears at the corner of your eyes, making your vision sting and your cheeks ache. You look up at him again. "Enough to marry me?"
He seems almost sheepish that time. "If you'll have me."
"Are you sober enough to even remember this?"
His embarrassment makes him blush and laugh again. "My heart is beating so loud I'm a little afraid of it. So yes. I'm sure I'll remember." He admits.
"Let's get married, then." You repeat to him, so achingly happy you think you could die. You wonder when to tell your friends. Bakugou will be pissed you did at his place. "If you'll have me."
He smiles. "I'd like too."
You lean up to press a kiss to his mouth, and Shouto holds you there to kiss you longer than you expect. When you're done kissing, he's smiling.
"Anymore secrets?"
He thinks on it, then hums.
"We should get a cat."
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ssahotchnerr · 1 year
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no but imagine pre-relationship aaron with fem!reader who can fall asleep anywhere & in the most uncomfortable positions known to mankind 💀 aaron is both terrified and amazed bcs how do you keep doing that 😧 but then every time he sees you like that he slowly & carefully arranges you in a more comfortable position 🥹🫶🏻 & the team gives him shit for it 💀
(luvie can I be 🪷 anon 🥹🫶🏻)
makeshift
omg stop i love that cw; fem!reader, bau family banter, pining aaron <333
falling asleep in a federal prison, may seem like a hard thing to do. surrounded by the worst of the worst, distant yells from the inmates floating down the hall, the mere location itself. but apparently, not for you.
the facility was currently on lockdown, meaning no one was going in or out, and therefore you were stuck overnight. as a result, the warden offered one of the locker rooms to be strictly the bau's 'break room', so to speak.
after his last, rather unpleasant interview of the evening, aaron was hellbent on a fresh, but not very good, cup of coffee. as he pushed the door open and entered, his focus diverted straight to you.
you were laid across a steel bench - eyes closed, hands clasped over your stomach, absolutely gone to the world. however, if you moved an inch - or probably less - would you completely topple onto the hard floor.
"you're kidding." aaron deadpanned as he looked at you in pure astonishment, coffee long forgotten.
"she's been like that for thirty minutes now." jj commented from where she was leant against one of the sets of lockers, head bent down as she scrolled through her phone. "but are we surprised?"
"nah," derek snorted lightly. "but hey, better than the floor."
"tell me about it." a low grumble came from reid, somewhere.
aaron's face pulled into one of discomfort, his brows drawing into a line above his eyes. the surface you were asleep on, had to be cold, for starters, by nature of the material and the a/c was still kicking in high gear despite the cooler temperature outside. the flat metal had to be highly uncomfortable, no cushion underneath you at all, most likely digging into your shoulder blades. you'd inevitably be waking up to an angry back, which aaron knew from experience - from past events where you miraculously drifted off in questionable positions.
eager to lessen the outcome, aaron shrugged his suit jacket off his shoulders. he balled it up, situating it snug under his arm.
next, he crouched beside you, cradling your head in his hand as he lifted it gently. at the movement, you stirred, a small noise escaping you and aaron froze, waiting for you to settle back down before resuming his actions. part of him feared his current, drumming heart would somehow rouse you more.
but once you had, he slid his jacket underneath your head - a makeshift pillow. it wasn't much, but it would at least alleviate some of the pressure collecting in your neck, and you wouldn't be as sore when you awoke. the next thing he had to figure out, something to lay on the ground, on either side of you, to soften the fall in case you were to-
"that's real cute hotch." derek grinned, grabbing aaron from his thoughts. "when you make up my bed next, can you add one of those pillow chocolates? thanks."
"funny."
aaron stole a glance at you, a calmness brushing over him and the ends of his lips daring to tug upwards into a smile. he couldn't help himself - sure, he wished you weren't fast asleep on a bench that could cause potential harm if you budged, but it didn't hide the fact that you were, well, you.
his hopeful, hidden attempt didn't go unnoticed by one person though, who naturally had to open their big mouth.
"that's nothing compared to that case in montana," aaron shot dave a pointed look to quit it, but only got a wink in return. "hotch practically carried-"
"dave."
"aaron." dave quipped back, an eyebrow quirked high in amusement, but fell silent. although, his witty expression didn't falter, as if he were noting to aaron that it wouldn't be difficult at all to be persuaded to continue.
"whoa whoa there, rossi," morgan straightened his posture, a hand out. "go on."
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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 6 months
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"𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫"
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synopsis: Your boyfriend, Aventurine, gets drunk and ruins an important event for your other boyfriend, Veritas, and he pays the price while you receive an award.
tags: threesome, cuckholding(?), overstimulation, rough, vulgar, degradation, praise, bondage, toys
wrd cnt: 1.1k
a/n: screaming wish it was me :(
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The business party you attended on behave of your partners had been long and tiring, but finally, you were all back home in your comfortable penthouse. As the doors closed behind you, the tension in the air was palpable, and the ride in the car was the worst. Aventurine had….misbehaved, at the party, causing quite a scene and embarrassing both you and Dr. Ratio in front of their colleagues.

“You were supposed to behave tonight, Aventurine,” Dr. Ratio's voice was cold and filled with disappointment as he approached the coat rack.
“But...but I couldn't help it. The champagne was just so good and everyone was having such a good time,” he tried to explain, but Veritas expression didn't soften.

“You know the rules. Misbehaving has consequences, this was an especially important night for my project” he said, their tone leaving no room for argument. Aventurine's eyes widened as they realized what was coming.
Meanwhile, you stood to the side, watching the exchange with a mix of arousal and concern. You knew what was about to happen, and you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through your veins. But at the same time, you couldn't help but worry for Aventurine.
“Hey- what are you doing….” Your blonde lover spouted, “Y/n…help meee, he’s being so- hiccup so mean”.
“Y/n, unlike you, knows to behave when she needs to. If only you were more like her.” Your other boyfriend says, as he sits Aventurine down on the a chair, his languid body wobbling from his intoxication.
Aventurine's voice trembled in fear and anticipation. “Okay- I’m sorry, but what is this for”
Without another word, Dr. Ratio marched over to a nearby shelf and picked up a small remote. He had tied up the drunk man well, hands behind his back and legs spread apart, an attachment on his crotch.
He pressed a button, and a loud buzzing noise filled the room. You recognized it as the sound of a vibrator.
“Since you couldn't behave in public, you'll have to behave here,” Dr. Ratio replied coldly as they approached Aventurine with the remote in hand. “You can enjoy the sensation while you watch me take care of someone else who can follow the rules.”

Your breath caught in your throat as Dr. Ratio turned to you and pulled you into a passionate kiss. His lips were demanding and possessive as his hands roamed your body, reminding you that you belonged to him right now, him alone. You moaned into the kiss, eagerly responding to his warm touch.

You felt Aventurine's eyes on you, and you opened your eyes to see him staring at you with a mix of arousal, jealousy, and frustration. He were visibly straining against their restraints as the vibrator worked its magic on his cock.

“Are you ready for a reward?” Dr. Ratio asked you, breaking the kiss and turning to Aventurine. He ran a hand down your body and reached between your legs, finding you already wet with desire. 

'Yes, Veritas- ,' you moaned, feeling Aventurine's eyes on you as Dr. Ratio's fingers danced over your clit.
“Very good,” Dr. Ratio said, his voice full of satisfaction as he pushed you down onto the couch infront of your tortured other.
Slowly, he’d remove your shirt, squeezing your tits before taking your bra off. Mouth clasped onto your nipple, he’d give Aventurine some glances, smiling against your skin every now and then as he watched his legs start shaking.
Once your panties were off, Veritas picked you up, and held you against his chest, opening your legs and letting Aventurine get a look at your glistening cunt, getting rubbed and fingered by Veritas.
You held onto him tight, moaning breathlessly as he prepared your hole, whispering dirty things in your ear from behind.
“Feels good baby? You’re so wet already, look at our little mut over there…He’s already came twice it seems.”
He chuckled, kissing the nape of your neck as he feels his cock almost rip the seems of his pants under you.
“Fuck- Can you just….Im so- so sorry please Veritas…”
With Aventurines pleas, your lover only laughed.
He flipped you over on your back to the cushion, spreading your legs as he takes his cock out; slapping your wet pussy with the tip.
“Mmm- fuck…you’re such a good girl, you really deserve this. Unlike some people.”
You gasped when you felt the tip go inside, and after every inch after that.
Veritas was gentle in preparing you, but not gentle when fucking you, especially with all his anger for your other boyfriend. He gripped your waist hard, and thrusted into you so deep, you practically screamed his name.
He snapped at Aventurine, who’s now fully in tears from overstimulating, cumming his brains out and watching you get fucked like you’re doing the same.
“Look at you…Pathetic. You could have taken her other hole but you just had to be an idiot.”
Aventurine watched with a mix of arousal and torturous anguish as Ratio fucked you, making you writhe with pleasure.

The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the buzzing of the vibrator. Aventurine's eyes were locked on you, his own cock straining against the vibrator as he was forced to watch.
You look at Aventurine, taking small glances of his cock covered in his own cum.
“Don’t look at him, he can’t save you, or himself.” Veritas said, grabbing your face and making you look at him. 

You cried out in pleasure as he pounded into you. You were lost in the bliss of his touch, and Aventurines eyes locked onto your body made everything so much more pleasurable; watching his leaky cock. 

Dr. Ratio's pace quickened, and soon you were both teetering on the edge of ecstasy. With one final, powerful thrust, he sent you both over the edge, your bodies shaking with pleasure. He filled you up to the brim, so much cum oozing out of your hole.
Veritas picked you up quickly, and held your back against his chest, opening your legs and carrying them infront of Aventurine; still strapped to the chair but now recovering as Ratio finally retired the vibrator.
He tries to catch his breathe, looking up to see your spread apart cunt in his face, carried by Veritas.
“Clean her up. It’s all you’re getting tonight.”
With hunger, your starved boyfriend took your cunt into his mouth, hands still behind him as he pushed his face into you, tongue cleaning up Veritas’ mess.
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writersdrug · 5 months
Text
Training for Two
Chapter 2. Rules
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Masterlist
Summary: Simon lays the ground rules and shows you around the house.
Warnings: Simon's email etiquette, very mild cursing, beginnings of obsessive behavior.
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Sure enough, Simon had emailed you by Tuesday afternoon. You noticed how... unprofessional it was. Not that he had been rude or obscene, but it was obviously written by someone who never had to write many emails for his career.
here is riley's routine. she likes walks, usually 3 or 4 a day. she eats one scoop in the morning and one at night. she doesn't finish her food all at once, but she'll come back to it. if you're gonna give her more cookies, just two per day. fill water every morning. around the house, if you could just dust and clean up any dog hair, that would be great. let me know if meeting me tomorrow at 0900 for the key works. I ship out thursday. thanks.
Simon.
You chewed your thumb nail, reclining on your couch with a confused expression. Was he irritated with you for some reason? He didn't show it at the interview if he did have any hostile feelings... you reminded yourself that he was a rather gruff man, and maybe that just bled into his written words, too. You rolled your shoulders and started working out your reply.
Hello Simon! Tomorrow works perfect for me, I'll be there by 9 am!
Does Riley have any favorite places she likes to go? Any particular spots or trails she enjoys? Also, are there any rules you have for her, like being on the couch? Is she ok going to the dog park? Lastly, does she take any medications I should be aware of?
See you soon!
You sent the message, sighing and dropping your head back against the arm of the sofa. You were honestly thankful that you'd gotten the job, even if Simon was a rather stiff client. You finally quit your shitty job, and while you did still have babysitting your niece and nephew, you never charged for that - the only time you were "paid" for it was when you took them out somewhere fun, and your sister forced you to accept money for the admission fee.
So this gig fell into your lap at the perfect time. And the fact that you had beat every other person Simon had interviewed made your ego soar. It wouldn't be a bad idea to make a career out of this, you thought.
Your phone dinged - you held it above your face, and saw that Simon had already responded. You sat upright and opened the email.
she only takes aspirin when her leg flares up. no more than twice a day. no favorite trails, we just go around the block a few times. she can sit on the couch, my bed too, but she'll need help getting up. no human food is the only other rule. never took her to a dog park, but if you really want to, that's fine. she's good with other dogs.
Simon.
You frowned. Walking the same block every day, multiple times each day, sounded awful. It wasn't even close to animal neglect, but you couldn't imagine walking the same route every single time. If it didn't drive Riley insane, it certainly would for you.
You read back over the email, your eyes lingering on "if her legs flare up." Simon had never discussed Riley having arthritis with you - and you sincerely hoped that was the reason she had leg pain, and nothing else. You made a mental note to ask him about it tomorrow as you began to write your reply.
Understood. Thanks again!
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"Here's the basement." Simon said, leading you down the stairs and into a dullish room. It had a cheaply-manufactured desk, what appeared to be a dining chair (not matching the dining set upstairs), a stuffed bookshelf, and some cardboard boxes filled with paper. A fan stood in the far corner, and next to it was the washing room. Much like what he had shown you of the rest of the house, it was bland and drab.
You looked around, letting out a polite noise of approval. Truth be told, Simon's life seemed awfully boring to you. Your mother had always told you that military men were always overly practical, in more than just home decor. They never cared much for the environment around them, as long as there was no mold, or anything similar. But you had never expected it to be so brutally true.
You knew he had a life outside of his home - from the way he described it, he was usually deployed more often than he was in his own home country. But you wondered - what did he do for fun, besides watch the telly? Did he have friends, and were they all like him? Any hobbies?
"If for whatever reason y' need to clean up a stain, you can find solution in there." He said, pointing to the washer room. "Other than that, nothin' much to see down 'ere."
You followed him as he trudged back up the stairs. Riley was sat upright on the floor, watching you and Simon move about the house with an observant expression.
"The only other things I'll ask you to do is hoover n' dust when it looks like it needs it." He said, leaning against the kitchen counter. "There really isn't much else t' do; of course, if you do see anything that needs fixin' you can always text me." He rolled his head from side to side, wincing as he worked out a crick in his neck. "Might not answer immediately, but I'll see it."
You nodded, standing in the walkway of the kitchen. Even with him leaning against the counter, muscles hidden under his sweatshirt, he was huge. For a brief moment, you imagined what he looked like on the field, dressed in his uniform and holding a gun - but you quickly shooed the thought from your mind before it had the chance to latch on and fester. "Gotcha. And just so I know, do you let Riley sleep with you?"
Simon paused in confusion before he responded. "Come again?"
"Like- you know, if I crash on the couch, is she allowed up with me?" You said, shifting your weight. You couldn't quite tell if Simon was irked by your question, or if he was genuinely confused.
He paused again. "Uh, yea, that's fine. If y' don't mind waking up covered in 'er slobber."
You laughed. "Nah, I'm used to it. A little drool never bothered me. Although, if I do need to wash up, am I alright to use the shower? Or would you rather I use my own back at my flat?"
Suddenly, it clicked in Simon's head. You were planning on sleeping at his house.
He had assumed you would just stop by for walks and meals - he didn't expect you to actually live here while he was gone, and he wasn't sure how it made him feel. He'd never had anyone else spend the night. Hell, no one ever visited, besides the rare occasions of the rest of the 141 stopping by. Even then, they never stayed for longer than a conversation or two.
But, once he took a second to think about it, he realized it might be better if you did stay - at least, while he was on missions. Riley would be bored out of her mind if she was alone that long, especially after spending the past several weeks with Simon constantly there. It would be good for someone to be there when he wasn't, and you seemed like you would be the best person for that, of course.
"Sure, 's fine." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "Just don't touch my shit in there."
"Don't worry about that..." You said quietly, "catch me dead and cold before I touch a 3-in-1 anything."
He chuckled and rolled his eyes. It was refreshing that you could handle his gruffness - most people treated him like a landmine, never wanting to say the wrong thing and set him off. You seemed to have taken life by the horns, like you weren't afraid to bite back at someone. He wondered if that was all for show, or if you really would snap back if he was to test you...
He pushed himself off the counter and reached into the drawer behind him, pulling out a spare key. He walked over to you and held it out. You were just about to take it, when he suddenly yanked it back.
You faltered. "Sorry...?"
"You lose this key..." Simon began lowly, "n' I'll frame you for murder. Understood?"
You gaped, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He didn't really mean that... did he? You waited for him to laugh and say he was just joking... but he never did. His eyes bored into yours so intensely, making you shiver, as he waited for you to answer.
"Y-yes, sir. Understood." You said, voice wavering a bit.
He grunted in satisfaction, then handed you the key. You let out the breath you had been holding, then cautiously took the key, before immediately attaching it to your lanyard. You didn't want to take any chances at losing it - not after Simon's threat. You took a deep breath and smiled at him, trying to dust the exchange off of your shoulders.
"You can come 'round tomorrow after o' nine hundred, I'll be out by then." He said, turning sideways to moce past you and heading towards the door. You followed behind and rubbed Riley's head when you passed her; she let out a contented sound.
"Feel free t' use the kitchen if you'll be stayin' overnight." He opened the door for you and leaned against it.
"Will do, thank you!" You chirped, hovering on the landing outside of his house, right were you were two days ago. "Thank you for showing me around - good luck on your- mission- deployment, thingamajig!"
He huffed. "Promise I will, luv."
Your spine tingled in response to his comment. Get it together, don't get your knickers in a twist over a client. You thought. You straightened your posture and cleared your throat.
"Well, see you around!" You said with a smile, then hopped down the steps to your car.
Simon waved, taking a moment to watch you pull out of his driveway. He shut the door and leaned back against it, exhaling slowly through his nostrils.
He was an observant man - he had to be, with his occupation. Your reaction to being called "luv" didn't fly over his head. And it's not like Simon didn't know the effect he had on women... he knew how he looked, how he presented himself, and he saw the reactions it got him.
But with you, something felt different. He saw your reaction, and a part of him wanted to chase after it. To see what you would do if he continued to apply pressure to your weak spots. Would you blush? Would you call him out? Would you drop the gig altogether?
He thought about how easily the word "sir" had rolled off of your tongue. He thought about how you would look, all tuckered out on his couch, donned in whatever pajamas you decided to wear, your face peaceful and expression soft as you slept - he imagined you in his shower, the room filled with warm steam and the scent of your shampoo, water hitting your skin as you-
Riley barked, making Simon jolt where he stood. She stared at him, ears turned to the side as she whined. She could always tell when he began to dissociate, and knew just as much as he did that it wasn't a good sign.
Simon sighed, running a hand down his face. "Get it together, fuckin' creep." He muttered to himself. "I need a bloody hobby, f' Christ's sake..."
He blamed it on the upcoming mission. He would typically stress about it beforehand, and if there was anything else that could occupy his mind, he would fixate on it. Right now, unfortunately, you were the victim. But he buried it deep down into his subconscious - it wasn't fair to you.
He pushed himself off of the door and headed towards the washroom, adjusting his crotch as he went. He figured he should at least tidy it up a bit, since you would be using it. The only other people who had been in there were Johnny and Captain Price, and of course, they never cared if there were trimmers on the counter, or if the mirror had splotches from toothpaste residue.
Hopefully, he'd forget all about you - at least, while he was on the mission.
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Taglist: @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae
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anantaru · 1 year
Text
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DAY 9 — THREESOME
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kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — neuvillette & wriothesley (together)
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, threesome, tit sucking, lots of teasing, i think their dynamic works so well for this, they're a little jealous and want you to themselves, some bickering from wriothesley's side but neuvillette really doesn't give a damn
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taking on a lustful shape over your spread out body, wriothesley watches you eagerly when you wince out the first time neuvillette outlines your walls with his large cock, a breathless and flirtatious snicker resounding like deep, impactful strikes from the duke's throat— he cannot fathom that this was happening right now, and neither could you, but here you were being pleasured by two strong, threatening men touching your skin and awakening an emotion like fiery steel on your flesh and spirit.
"you do realize, dear iudex." wriothesley suddenly speaks out, a masculine voice entering your system as he stops in midst his slurred sentencing, secretly wanting to be the one who's rushing his shaft into you instead because— you can feel it then, immediately notice that the man fully needed you on his own, carnally, couldn't help himself but desire you, lasciviously.
"—that there should always be enough preparation before doing that." he doesn't even look at the man while overflowing with cocky attitude, instead leaning his head to your chest while you desperately gripped and tightened your legs around neuvillette's waist to somehow manage to take his blows the right way, but you're almost holding him hostage this way, fuck and it only serves to make him dizzy.
following your doings, a ravaging whine ripples through your body as the piercing thrusts on your dripping core never stop as neuvillette rides out everything with his swelling erection, barely being able to restrain himself until he was allowed to stick up your pussy with copious amounts of white ropes of creamy cum splattering all over your walls— and of course, his thrusts are slow, precise, the dragging of a thick shaft touching your silken insides for what felt like a sweet, blissful eternity.
neuvillette hums back at the duke, the noise forming an absent response on its own before he decides to follow up the silence departing from his throat, "you do not need to lecture me about this." he drawls back before immediately turning his attention back to you, controlling the buck of his hips but adding enough strength that your ass jiggles from the contact, "but i do appreciate it." and still, considerably he pulls out his cock, yet despite leaving the tip in, the fat head separating your slit effortlessly that it felt like he never really pulled all those inches out of you in the first place.
"just making sure, y'know." wriothesley notices a little film of annoyance on neuvillette's facial expression and mentally applauds himself, a slow, cocky grin touching up his lips— whilst sloppy kisses were now located on your chest as he mouths wet spots on your exposed breasts.
you cannot help yourself and have to shoot your eyes down at him to see for yourself, simply feeling him suckle on your mounds wasn't enough anymore— and it's comfortable, soul crushing when his dark hair tickles your wet cheeks as he continues with his lovely intrigues, serving you dutifully to make you tremble underneath his large body menacing on top, placing soused, warm kisses on your breasts before targeting your nipples next, using your tit as he pleases with his tongue rolling out expertly, dragging the flat of his wet muscle around your sensitivity before noticing a shudder on your chest.
his pink muscle was never faltering, not once, because he likes that you're unraveling way too fast, which, granted, wasn't a surprise to the duke because bare in mind, he knows what you need— specifically how you wanted your tits to be played with before he was grabbing the flesh of your mounds and putting one in his sweltering mouth, every lick and suck biting your core and rising the temperature on your sex.
at the present time, the persistent pleasure both of them fucked into you reaches your entire frame— for once, on your chest chasing the friction of wriothesley's rough tongue licking over the warmth, weighty tears magnifying around your eyes as your blurred psyche loses all rational thinking skills while your pussy was suddenly being spread apart again.
in the blink of an eye, neuvillette lands a harsh smack on your aching sex, following the sticky trail of his shaft being imbedded by your translucent arousal and throbbing between the slickness of your walls constricting around him all too well, and your moans— like a honeyed melody out of a perfect symphony, pillowing a scarlet red on his bristling cheeks.
the iudex doesn't need anyone to tell him how it's done— because behind wriothesley's back, there have been plenty encounters before where it had been just the two of you, encircled around each other, deep sighs entering the room as he rounds his heavy arms on your body, murmuring sweet nothing into your ears, his voice lowered and allied with gravel alike, rasping at a clear spot on your brain that was in control of your lascivious drive when you welcome his smoldering touch so helplessly it's almost embarrassing in hindsight.
while now, he sadly cannot have it the way he'd ultimately prefer it to be but that doesn't mean he wasn't enjoying the mess evolving in front of his ocean eyes picking up each of your shivers, storing them into the back of his brain so he could visualize it whenever he might require it.
what neuvillette wouldn't admit to anybody was that he does like seeing you being played with while it's him who has you entered, who has his cock locked deep inside your sweet, dripping cunt. besides, wriothesley does a good job, he has to admit, how you're whining and begging to feel release, or bliss— clenching your arms around the duke's head while he was lapping his tongue around your breast feverently, one hand sneakily finding the other to touch the hot skin while drool fills his mouth at your lewd noises, selfishly sucking more.
it's not all too bad, right? because neuvillette likes what he sees, and at least he can watch at your adorable face changing expressions and listen to your velvety moans rush across the humid embrace of the room, bumbling off the walls and vibrating around his large cock rocking forward, letting his girth roll itself against your wet warmth that he fucks his way into your little entrance with enough motivation that will keep him satiated for days— and at last, he needs to relish in it again, meaning the sounds, those final tunes of you, or the ones of raw skin on skin rippling around you, ultimately making him go faster and faster, better and finer the louder they would get.
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©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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incognit0slut · 6 months
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hi! could u write a fic about is the first time of the reader with spencer helps her and them made love so romantic *im sorry im so romantic 🙈* :)
I luv all ur writings <3
xoxo
(18+) soft spencer x inexperienced reader. 1.4k
Love was a foreign concept until he met you.
-
Spencer has savored the taste of chocolate, relishing its rich sweetness as it melts on his tongue. He's indulged in the smoothness of honey, its velvety texture spreading across his palate. And amidst his love for the sugar in his coffee—slightly bitter yet abundantly sweet—none of these flavors could compare to the taste of you.
Because you tasted so divine, it was the only way he could describe it. His hands were pressed on the back of your thighs, forcing you to spread your legs further apart as he worked his tongue over you, swallowing every drop of arousal that dripped down to his mouth.
The thought of ever going back to a life without the taste of you seemed absurd now—It was a crime against his senses. So he devoured you eagerly, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony, completely lost in the spell of your flavor and scent. He couldn't get enough, and honestly, he didn't want to stop.
He was hooked, addicted to the way you writhed and moaned beneath him; your fingers tangling in his hair, your desperate pleas, and the way your hips bucked against his mouth. And when he sensed you teetering on the edge of release, he doubled his efforts, sucking and licking with a feverish intensity, intent on drawing out every last drop of your bliss.
It wasn't until you gently pushed his head away that Spencer finally drew back, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal. You couldn't help but giggle at the satisfied grin that spread across his face, his breathless chuckle mirroring your amusement as he crawled over your trembling body.
"That was..." you trailed off, running your hand up his arm as he settled between your legs.
"Good?"
You sighed.
"Amazing. Splendid. Marvelous."
With a soft laugh, he reached up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "Someone's been hitting the thesaurus."
You swatted at his shoulder playfully. "Shut up and kiss me again."
The smile on his face widened into a grin as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin before capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss. He pressed himself closer to you and the unmistakable sensation of his cock brushing against your clit made you gasp in surprise.
"You're so perfect," he muttered, slowly grinding his length along your wet folds. He fought the urge to take you right then and there, but your comfort was his priority. He needed to make sure this was what you wanted. "Are you sure you're ready?"
You stifled a sigh. While you appreciated his concern, it was starting to get on your nerves, after all, it was just sex... You might be inexperienced, but how difficult could it be?
"Mmhm," you answered, though your voice came out a pitch higher than you intended. "Of course, I am."
He slightly pulled away. "You don't sound so sure."
You stared at him for a moment before finally letting out a sigh.
"Fine, I'm a little nervous, okay?" Biting your bottom lip, you voiced the question that had been weighing on your mind.
"Is it—" you suddenly sighed, or it was more like a moan that escaped your lips as the underside of his cock continued to rub along your wetness. "Is it... going to hurt?"
His expression softened as he reached out to gently cup your cheek. "It might be uncomfortable at first, but I'll be gentle, I promise," he reassured. "We can stop anytime you want."
"I don't want us to stop."
A surge of warmth flooded him at your words, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "Then we won't," he promised, slipping his hand between your body. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
You made a noise in the back of your throat as you watched him bring his cock closer, dragging it through your folds before he thrust his hips forward. The sensation was overwhelming and unfamiliar, and you couldn't help but tense up in response.
"Is this okay?" he asked. You nodded, though your breathing had become erratic. Your eyes fell closed as you started to feel him stretching you, the sensation both strange and uncomfortable. It was like your body was resisting him.
"Honey, I need you to relax," he murmured soothingly. "Can you do that for me?"
You winced when you felt him pushing further, a sharp pang of discomfort shooting through you. "S-Spence... it hurts..."
"I know, honey, I know," he whispered, his thumb continuing its gentle caress against your cheek. "Breathe with me."
You opened your eyes, meeting his reassuring gaze. Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your racing heart, and he followed suit, matching your rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. Hold.
Breathe.
"Good, that's it," he encouraged softly. "Just like that. You're doing great."
Despite the initial discomfort, you focused on relaxing your body, allowing him to stretch your tight walls. He watched your lashes flutter against your cheek before his gaze dropped between you, taking in the stretch of your cunt, slowly allowing him to press deeper and deeper.
He then buried his face in your shoulder as he sheathed himself completely and you stifled a shocked yelp as you clung onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin. You hadn't expected to feel so full, for him to reach that deep.
The room fell quiet, broken only by the steady rhythm of your breathing and the faint rustle of sheets. He waited patiently, his body pressed against yours, allowing you time to adjust. Then, he pressed a lingering kiss on your collarbone, his lips warm against your skin.
"Tell me how it feels," he whispered. You weren't sure you could form proper words, becoming so lost at the feeling of him inside of you. But you managed to take a moment to gather your thoughts.
"It feels... weird," you replied.
He lifted his head from your shoulder. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shook your head, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips as you stared up at him. He was beautiful like this, pressed against you, cheeks flushed with desire, damp hair tousled on his forehead—his cock finally buried deep inside you.
"You're doing so well for me, you know that?" he said, and the words made you sigh in response as his hips moved slightly back before rolling back into you, causing you to close your eyes with a quiet gasp the same time he let out a groan.
Something shifted after that. The air crackled with electricity. The blood in your veins pumped a little faster and your breathing deepened, each inhale filling your lungs with the heady scent of him. With growing urgency, your hips began to buck forward, eager to meet his slow, deliberate pace.
"Th-That feels good," you couldn't resist whispering to him. The initial pain you had felt had quickly faded, replaced by a rush of pure, hot pleasure that overwhelmed your senses.
"Do you think I can go faster?" He whispered, and you could hear the slick noise as he thrust his cock into your dripping walls. "Can you take it?"
A breathless yes escaped your lips and it was enough for him to get lost in you completely. His lips found their way to your neck, trailing kisses along your skin as he quickened his pace. The sensation was overwhelming, it was too much yet not enough, and all he could do was kiss every inch of your skin and tighten his grip on your body.
Spencer never understood the term making love, for love itself had often felt like a foreign concept to him. But with you in his arms, nothing else seemed more fitting, it was as if you were two pieces of a puzzle finally coming together.
He now realized that love wasn't something to be analyzed, it wasn’t something his big brain could understand—it was meant to be felt, deeply and profoundly, and his love for you was as natural as the beating of his own heart.
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bat-boys · 6 months
Text
domestic bliss
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 4.5k words
warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!
summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate
a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻
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Part 2
A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.
A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling. 
Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence. 
"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head. 
"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him. 
"Well, hurry up."
"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair. 
You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.
Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair. 
"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly. 
"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there. 
"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you. 
He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there. 
"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss. 
"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you. 
Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared. 
Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs. 
You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch. 
"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin. 
"With pleasure, sweetheart."
The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element. 
You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped. 
Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night. 
He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.
As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new. 
A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you. 
You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back. 
"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips. 
"Shadowsinger." You purred. 
"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation. 
"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room. 
Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone. 
After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove. 
With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones. 
"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting. 
"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs. 
"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly. 
"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.
"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you. 
"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh. 
Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.
"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.
"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.
"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze. 
"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye. 
"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress. 
"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you. 
"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over. 
"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"
"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down. 
"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit. 
"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway. 
Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen. 
He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 
A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his. 
A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.
"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent. 
"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.
"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.
"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.
"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"
He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually. 
"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.
"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking. 
"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.
It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore. 
Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are. 
Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him. 
The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"
He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down." 
He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him. 
"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him. 
His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go. 
"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"
"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.
"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion. 
"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."
He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa. 
"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.
His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought. 
"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart. 
"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."
Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there. 
He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite. 
"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven. 
He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile. 
"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.
"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile. 
"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.  
Read Part 2 here!
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