#there's just barely a nip there well just to be safe!!

[ichiro-artosaki]

a ghoulish gift for @dustybones 👻👻👻 its the siren au meet cute! (more like eat cute 😅) happy halloween!

stitched ver below!

pose ref [here]

[demonvibez]

Morning Surprise

Characters: Demon Brothers x GN Reader

Word Count: 2.4k+

Rating: Mature

Tags: fluff, kissing, erections, fade-to-black, suggestive

A/N: My first request back! Thought I'd go with something fun. There's no explicit smut but it is quite suggestive. Hope y'all enjoy!

Summary: Your favorite Demon Brother wakes up with you in his arms - and morning wood between his legs. What will happen next? Well...

[link to original request]

Lucifer, ever the prideful demon, can't help the smile on his face when he wakes up and looks down, only to see you safely asleep in his arms.

Ah, yes. The two of you had spent your first night together - not doing anything scandalous, just peacefully sleeping together. Although, he also couldn't help the way that smile ceased when he noticed the situation happening between his legs. He didn't notice his morning wood at first, due to the fact that you had your leg slung over him in your slumber - you were the only thing he noticed. But now a small seed of insecurity has been implanted into the back of his mind. What would you think, waking up to such an intrusion? Surely, the Avatar of Pride should be able to maintain control of himself, even his autonomic bodily functions. He wants to be nothing short of perfect in your eyes, even if that means going to extreme lengths to control the impossible. He's practically ready to get out of bed and start working on a plan forward - that is until he looks down into those sweet eyes of yours, and realizes you're awake. His moment of insecurity is fleeting, deciding that the state he's in is natural, and nothing to be ashamed or afraid of. You are his lover, after all. He leans down to steal a kiss from your lips, that cheeky smirk on his face after he pulls away.

"Good morning, my love. It seems as though you've stirred something within me," he said, before he leaned back down to start lightly nipping at your neck. You won't be making it out of his bed anytime soon, that's for sure. Quite scanadalous, indeed.

The first morning the two of you spend together, Mammon wakes up with an adorably dopey smile on his face. He's so happy to be cuddled up with his human, all cozy and warm, that he doesn't even notice the situation in his sweatpants at first. As he regains his consciousness, the feeling between his legs connecting to his brain, his eyes widen and he throws the covers off as he jumps out of the bed. You're barely even rubbing your eyes, muttering out his name in a questioning tone, when you hear the sound of your bathroom door slamming. You're wide awake now - yet so is he. Asking him questions through the door is just met with his signature brand of denial as he shouts at you to "GET BACK TO BED, STUPID HUMAN!!" You roll your eyes and grumble, opting to just go back to sleep and figure it out later. Luckily for Mammon. He doesn't need you getting the wrong idea - he's the Great Mammon after all! And no, he totally doesn't have a huge crush on you. The last thing he needs is such an awkward situation with the human he isn't crushing on.

The next time it happens though, he doesn't have quite the same reaction. You two are much closer than you were the last time, and he'll be damned if he's gonna hop out of your bed early. You wake up and he immediately steals a kiss, a blush already on his cheeks - and it doesn't take you long to figure out why. Giggles escape your lips if you ask Mammon if that gift is meant for you, which turns into full on laughter as his blush deepens and he stammers out his denials. And then, he gives you this look - an innocent lil puppy dog eye'd look with those shining gold-and-blue orbs of his. Always greedy for you, he doesn't even have to say the words. You already know what he wants.

"Treasure, please," is all you'll get from him. Which is all you need to hear, anyways. This greedy demon is eager to take anything you can give him.

Why oh why can't he just melt into the floor? At that current moment, Leviathan felt cursed. He finally got to spend the night cuddling with his Player 2, and THIS is the state he wakes up in?! He feels like the grossest lowlife to ever walk the realm. If Father could just send some lightning straight down here and take him out, he'd be oh so grateful. Because how the hell is he possibly going to deal with this?! You were currently laying on top of him, snuggling with him in his bath-bed and tangled up in his tail. The level of gymnastics needed to escape from your hold and this room far surpasses an Olympic level feat. And when he looks down at his chest to see you looking back up at him, he swears his demonic heart actually stopped. The scream emitted from his room could be heard all the way from the Demon Lord's Castle, as well as the subsequent slamming of his door. You are just left laying alone in his room in bewilderment as your ears ring.

It takes quite a bit of time for Leviathan to get over this whole incident. It actually starts to bum you out how long he's kept himself locked away in his room this time, refusing to talk or even come down for meals. His Brothers thought it was funny at first, but now that they see you upset, they take it upon themselves to chat with him. It doesn't work at first, until Mammon kicks down his door himself. Then, one by one, they stop by to chat with little success. It isn't until Lucifer stops by for an earnest pep talk that the Avatar of Envy finally comes around.

When it finally comes time to hang out again, Levi opts to pretend the whole thing never happened. Unluckily for him, it happened again. He's ready to have another mental breakdown, but you're determined to prevent that - you love him, and it's really not a big deal. You were never mad, or creeped out, it just happens. As you cradle his blushing cheeks with your lil human hands, you whisper words of reassurance to your Lord of Shadow.

"I-I-I-Uhhhh-" is all he can stammer out in reply, until you shut him up with those soft lips of yours. He'll have to write you a message later - for now, you have him pushed back into his bath-bed, ready to take the lead and conquer him like an adventure quest.

Laying in his bed with you, surrounded by his books as you sleep in his arms, Satan lies awake with his emerald eyes staring at the ceiling. This wasn't the first time he was experiencing this issue. He had read plenty about it, to the point that he knows it's an autonomic function of his body. And yet, he can't help but to feel a bit ashamed of himself, as if he had any control of it at all - as if he were gentlemanly enough to be able to stop it from happening. He's better than this - a thought that sounds eerily like the words of someone he loathes, and now he's even more irritated with himself. Ugh, how could he have not seen this as a possible outcome?! While one of his arms is wrapped around you, the other lays by his side as he grips the bed-sheet so hard that his knuckles changes shades. He needs to come up with a plan to make a quiet escape so he can go calm down. He could probably slip out of bed fairly easily, the only problem being the mountains of books creating obstacles all around his room. He knows these book piles like the back of his own hand, and yet his anger clouds his mind. He highly doubts he'd be able to make a clean escape.

Before he can start to peel the sheets back, he feels you stirring from your sleep. You look up at him to see a bright blush on his cheeks, clearly avoiding eye contact with you. With a light giggle, you ask Satan whats wrong, and he begins to rapidly apologize while info-dumping everything he's read about the subject. About two-thirds of the way through his rambles, you simply cut him off with a kiss. When you pull away, you swear you see sparkles in those sage orbs of his. You break the kiss and start to pull at the drawstrings of his pajama pants, a tiny giggle escaping your lips. A light blush coats his cheeks, and all of the poetry previously ingrained into his brain has now fled from his memories.

"Amazing," was all he could whisper, and he is most definitely talking about you. He'll have to express his gratitude when he can regather his mind, but for now, he's happy to be locked in his room with you. This is one study session he plans to be absolutely rigorous about.

Already awake, yet pretending to still be asleep, Asmo is doing his best to keep a mischievous grin off of his pretty face. He was well aware of the situation happening between his legs, and he isn't fazed by it in the least. He's the Avatar of Lust, after all, and this is his arena! And he is perfectly comfortable pressing his morning arousal into the flesh of your thigh as he continues to pretend. Of course you begin to stir, slowly waking up and taking in your surroundings, immediately taking notice of Asmodeus. Your eyes scan his sleeping form, one of your hands gently rubbing his back as you feel him press himself into your leg once more. A small gasp escapes your lips, and before you know it, his gorgeous sunset eyes are staring up at you.

You greet each other with whispered greetings and soft kisses, Asmo nuzzling your neck as he waits for you to bring up his arousal. You're a bit used to this - it's Asmodeus, after all, so none of this is really surprising. What was surprising, however, was how coy he was acting with you when you finally breached the subject. "Who, meeee~?! ♡" in that signature sing-song voice of his, as you look at him with a deadpan expression. He busts out into a fit of giggles, showering you with little kisses, before his kiss transforms into something a bit more sensual. His lips on your neck, his hands trailing your curves. You know exactly where this is going, but it's one of the many things you love about your Asmo.

"Do I even have to ask, darling~? ♡" His lips softly trail as he slides down your body, and you mentally prepare for the marathon of euphoria your lover is about to experience with you - and how it may cause you to ruin yet another set of silk sheets. Just another day being in love with the Avatar of Lust!

Now, you were quite used to snuggling up with the giant demonic teddy bear that is Beelzebub. Ever since Lucifer tried to 'punish' you by making you live with Beel temporarily, the two of you enjoyed sharing a bed and cuddling up at night. It seemed to be an average evening - you had retired with Beel to his room after dinner, ready to cozy up and drift off in his arms as the two of you watch his favorite show, Barbeque Life. What wasn't average, however, was the way in which you were awakened the following morning. See, the funny thing about sharing a bed with Beel is that you no longer need to set your own alarm clock - the roar of his rumbling stomach is more than sufficient to wake both of you up in the morning. But this morning was different. This morning, something rather stiff poked into your side, jarring you awake from your dreams.

It takes you a moment to fully wake up and realize what was happening - that Beel's other hunger could possibly be making itself known on this early Devildom morning. Although it could be nothing, it doesn't take you too long to find out. Soon enough, Beel is waking up as well, and you can tell he's certainly in a mood. With rosy cheeks and bashful eyes, he's looking at you with that same sparkle he has at the buffet line. Whatever he must have been dreaming about - and it certainly wasn't cheeseburgers - has clearly made him ravenous with lust. Always a gentleman, he takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, before kindly asking if he may proceed. He's so adorable that you answer him with a kiss, throwing your arms around his neck before he pulls you closer.

"Y'u tas- sssoooo g'd," he mumbles between kisses, as if his mouth was full, "I luv y'u s' muhh."

Beel always loves having sweets for breakfast.

Oh, Belphegor. That bratty little sloth demon. He sure does have a way of getting exactly what he wants - something that no one in this household would deny. You were starting to think he had planned this entire situation. He can control dreams after all, so it wouldn't shock you if he was creating lust-filled dreams in order to cause this to happen on purpose. One snap of his fingers and he's in the middle of a sex scene - and you can only imagine who his partner was. All so he could wake up and pester you with those pouty purple eyes of his, while he presses his hardened member into your side.

At first he feigns innocence and ignorance, wanting you to be the one to use your words to point it out - he'd do anything to get you flustered. That is, until you call him out on it - that you're sure of what he was doing in his dreams. He pouts, he whines, he blames you completely for it all - for his dream, and for his arousal. You're not really gonna make him beg are you? He'll just pretend to go back to sleep. His pouty eyes turn serious, a glint of threat glimmering in his purple orbs, and you can't help but to let out a laugh and steal a kiss. You can feel the tenseness leave his body as he melts back into your arms, getting comfortable as he returns your kiss with passion. You can feel his fangs lightly nip your bottom lip as you pull away for air, the poutiness returning to his face as he looks at you incredulously.

"Well, you're gonna help me, right?!" Turns out there's more than one way for the Avatar of Sloth to keep you in bed all day.

· demonvibez ♡ 2025 · do not copy, repost or modify ·

· comments, reblogs and likes are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

[ratatoastwrites]

Ok ok smut. I keep thinking about how the BAU is often gone on longer cases and a Spencer who missed his girlfriend on a long case and just wants to be really close to her so like clingy...maybe some cockwarming...umm yeah imma see myself out byyyeeeee

-🌞

a/n: i’m literally so sorry that this took me six months to post 😭 i literally have no words omg. but i totally loved!!!! this request and it was so much fun to write and i really hope that i did it justice 💕🧚‍♀️ (even though i feel like the ending might be a teensy bit rushed 😭) also also also: today is mgg’s birthday! omg! i love me a pisces man 🧎‍♀️‍➡️

well, without further ado

You feel like Home

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

nsfw, 18+ MDNI

cw: no use of y/n, Spencer calls reader Angel, smut, cockwarming, dry humping (barely though), words to describe the female genitalia, unprotected p in v sex, mentioned rough sex, Spencer is described as “pussy-whipped” (he is), kissing, some light making out ig, and umm maybe softdom!Spence (?) idrk tho, also english is not my first language so im sorry if this isn’t grammatically pristine

• Before he met you, Spencer had no real qualms about his work schedule

• Sure, it was a bit of a hassle to travel for work so much, but let’s face it, he didn’t really have anything better to do

• While the rest of the team complained when they had little to no free time between cases, he was secretly happy for the distraction from his mostly uneventful life

• After he met you, though…

• To put it simply, Spencer was obsessed with you

• He fell fast and he fell hard, and now every second thought in that big brain of his was about you

• He most definitely would’ve spent every waking moment with you if that was possible

• Or inside you

• Pussy-whipped was one of the best ways to describe him

• But could you really blame him? You were beautiful, and alluring, and your skin was so soft under his touch, and you always smelled and tasted divine…

• Yeah, it was safe to say that you had him completely wrapped around your finger

• And now he suddenly understood why it was such a nuisance to have to travel across the country on a random thursday afternoon, for an unforeseeable amount of days

• He tried to call you as often as possible, but most of the time he was either too busy or your schedules just simply didn’t align

• It was no different on this case, and to make matters even worse, this time he had to go five whole days without seeing you, and three without getting to hear your voice

• So when he finally arrived home to your shared apartment, seeing you in one of his oversized sweaters, looking so inviting and cozy on the couch, smiling at him so sweetly as you greeted him…

 

“Spence,” you giggled softly, tilting your head to the side to grant him easier access, as he pressed gentle kisses to your neck. You were seated in his lap, your arms around his neck, and his hands on your thighs on either sides of his hips. He has refused to let go of you ever since he came home almost an hour ago, his hands and lips not leaving your skin for even a second, as if he was afraid that you would disappear like a mirage.

“Hm?” He hummed against your neck, his lips focusing on your pulse point. He nipped and sucked on your pristine skin, covering it with small love bites. They would fade by the morning, but for now, he relished in getting to decorate you with his marks, like a physical reminder that you were his.

Your breath hitched, only letting out the shuddering breath that you sucked in, when his hands finally moved under your –his– sweater. You very quickly forgot what you were about to say, your hips rolling against his with a small, needy sound.

“Angel.” Spencer’s voice was soft, if a bit choked, his hands quickly sliding down to hold your hips. “I want to take my time with you tonight. Will you let me?”

You bit down on your lower lip, feeling your lower regions ache with desire from how he wound you up with his casual, gentle kisses and touches. At the same time though, you were feeling just as clingy as he was. You didn’t want this to end for a long time, didn’t want to rush into an orgasm.

So you just nodded, cupping Spencer’s cheeks as you leaned in to kiss him languidly. Your lips moved in sync, in a familiar, well-practiced dance, while you raised your hips to allow him to pull off your shorts and panties.

You reached down to the hem of your sweater, but he caught your wrists, stopping you from taking it off.

“Leave it on. Please,” he said, adding the adverb almost as an afterthought. “I like making you mine in my own clothes.”

And oh, that just simply wasn’t fair. He couldn’t seriously say stuff like that and expect you not to drag you needy, wet cunt against the noticeable bulge in his pants. You both moaned at the same time from the friction, and this time he didn’t have it in him to tell you to stop.

You kissed him deeply, moving your hands to unbuckle his belt, while he unzipped his pants –a combined effort, to get his poor, aching hardness out of the confines of his slacks as fast as possible.

There were very little words exchanged, lips parting as you both sighed into eachother’s mouths, once you finally sank down on his length.

“Jesus Christ, Angel. I missed you so much,” he whispered hotly against your lips, before dipping his head down, to press his lips to your throat.

It was hard to stay still at first. As much as you wanted to drag this out, his tip was nudging your cervix so deliciously that you couldn’t help but clench around him tightly. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt him twitch inside you in response, while he whined against your skin.

But after a few minutes, you finally settled. It felt incredible, being connected with him so intimately, bodies and souls entwined on your couch. You kissed him lazily, before asking him about his day, his time away, letting him talk to you about the case –well, as much as he was allowed to tell you about it.

You talked and cuddled and just stayed in eachother’s embrace. Because after so long, you were finally reunited, and you’d be damned if you didn’t make the most of it.

And if a while later, after you’ve already discussed everything and caught up with eachother, he finally pounded you into the couch, well… You definitely weren’t one to complain about that either.

[honeypiehotchner]

Sleeping Beauty (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Nobody look @ me this is the filthiest thing I've ever written I need to go take a cold shower

Summary: With the demanding jobs you both work, you and Hotch see each other more often when one of you is asleep. An idea pops into your head.

Warnings: SMUT mdni 18+ only etc, somnophilia (if that's not your cup of tea, feel free to scroll bc it's the entirety of this fic lmao), angst if you squint, established relationship, consent/ground rules are established before anything happens, fingering, oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (don't be like them), mentions of phone sex, dirty talk, Hotch is just pussy-whipped as y'all say

WC: 3.8k bc I clearly have no self-control

It started as a joke. Mostly.

Both of your jobs are demanding — you and Hotch knew this from the start. It was first date material, after all. The usual, surface-level questions including So, what do you do for work?

He told you later that he thought about giving you a vague answer, so as to not scare you away. But you had opened up first, said that your job at the courthouse meant your hours were long and somewhat unpredictable, no matter how hard everyone tried to stick to the 8 to 5 routine. There were nights you wouldn’t leave your desk until nearly eight. Hotch’s chest had tightened at that, even on the first date, the idea of you overworking yourself, but he’s no better.

You told him some nights it was a miracle if you got home before ten; he joked with you and said it was a miracle he made it home some nights at all.

It was like everything opened up from there. There was no pressure. If one of you had to stay late, it didn’t really matter, because the other probably had to as well. If one of you had to cancel or postpone dinner plans, it was fine, because nine times out of ten, the other was already on their way to calling for the same reason. 

It always makes the two of you laugh. The phone call the afternoon of the dinner plans, you laughing as you answer the phone to say, “Let me guess, raincheck?” His soft laughter, but apologetic all the same, “We just got called to New York.” And you expected it, so you said it was fine, right before your boss came knocking on your door, a frantic look in his eyes. “And I’m being summoned. Be safe in New York.” And Aaron’s ever-present gentlemanliness, “I’ll text you when I can. Go show them how it’s done.” You were grinning as you hung up, turning to your boss with an extra boost of confidence. “What do we have?”

As one can expect, this schedule, this careful dance the two of you have, means that nights together are rare, and the sex is, unfortunately, just as rare. Not that the two of you haven’t found other means— who knew Aaron’s dirty talk would somehow sound hotter through the phone when he’s timezones away, on a five minute break to call you and check in, and help you relax enough so you can sleep? But it’s not the same. It’s not the same as having him here.

And he is here, just not as often as you’d like, especially not when you’re awake. Ever since you started staying at his place — it’s closer to the courthouse, you tell yourself as an excuse, those five minutes make a big difference — you see him more often, but you mostly feel him. The dip of the mattress as he settles in to sleep beside you. The strong arm wrapping around your middle, pulling you toward him in his sleep, as if he needs to be certain you’re still there, even as he’s dreaming. The rustle of sheets as he scrambles to grab his phone to silence the incoming call, to get up and get dressed without waking you. 

It’s just a fact. The two of you see each other more when you’re sleeping. Isn’t that crazy?

So, who can blame you, when one night, half-asleep, only woken by Aaron’s soft nuzzling into your neck, you say, “Keep going.”

He freezes, lips just barely hovering over your pulsepoint, the place he loves to suck on, nip at, because he loves all of the little sounds he can draw out of you. 

When you’re awake.

“Honey,” he chuckles nervously, pulling back. “You’re asleep.”

“M’awake,” you protest, tossing your arms around him clumsily — as if that was going to prove your point.

He placates you with a soft kiss on your lips. “Sure, honey,” his laugh rumbles through his chest again as his hands smooth up your arms. “I believe you.”

“See?” you murmur, but your eyes are closed. There is no way you’ll remember this come morning. “You can keep going. Wanna feel you.”

He tenses. The idea is tempting, and that scares the shit out of him, which is exactly why his hands don’t move any lower than your arms. You’re practically asleep, for god’s sake. That’s taking advantage, and he will not be doing that.

“Maybe later,” he says gently, kissing your forehead this time. “I’m exhausted.”

You whine, but you bury your face in his chest, and your breathing slowly evens out. 

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you, wondering what in the world he’s going to do with you.

+++

You do remember it. Aaron thought you wouldn’t, and for a couple days he was convinced that you didn’t, until a rare night when he returned home to find you already there.

“Half-day,” you explain with an easy smile, meeting him at the door for a kiss. “Well, kind of. I brought some work with me. You know how it is.”

You’re rambling and he knows it. You know it, too, but you can do nothing to stop it. He knows you need to talk to him about something, but you don’t want to admit it. He knows how you work. 

Which infuriates you on a bad day. On a good day, it’s hot as hell.

Right now, it’s somehow a mix of both. All it takes is him sitting next to you on the couch, seemingly unbothered by your fidgeting, and one simple question.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Too many things,” you answer automatically, letting out a laugh and exhale at the same time. God, your chest feels so tight, and not in a good way. Since when are you this nervous to talk to Aaron? The man you’ve been seeing for well over a year now, the man who has been nothing but understanding with everything you’ve thrown his way, the man who is sitting right here with you, who knows exactly what your nervous rambling means and isn’t upset with you for it.

As if he can sense the anxiety rolling inside of you (and he can sense it), he reaches out to thread your fingers with his. “You can talk to me. Is it work?” You shake your head. “Is it us?”

“Kind of.”

“Is it the other night?”

Your eyes blow wide, giving you away entirely. Your eyes snap to his. “Seriously? Three questions? That’s how long it took you?”

He chuckles. “It would’ve only taken one, but I didn’t want to assume.”

“Cocky motherfucker,” you mutter, which only makes him laugh more. This is good. Lightening the mood is good. You don’t need to be so on edge about this, about what is most likely about to be Rejection City Central. “Okay. So. Yes. The other night.”

He nods, waiting patiently for you to get your words together.

“I feel like it was…too much.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Too much?” Nothing happened. Do you think something happened?

“I feel like I pushed too far, and I just wanted to say I’m sorry, we don’t have to harp on it anymore than this, I just— I felt like I was pushing you into doing something you don’t want to do. And I don’t want you to feel pressured—”

“Honey,” he stops you gently. “Hey, look at me.”

Slowly, you do, but there’s worry swimming in your eyes. 

“What do you remember?” he asks. He knows how it sounds, cryptic and probably a little scary, but he needs to fully see where your head is.

“Um,” you hesitate, your eyes darting away again. “I remember asking you to keep going and you saying no. Because I was asleep.”

He nods. “Okay.” He pauses, gathering his words. “Honey, we’ve never talked about that before, about doing anything when either of us is sleeping—”

“We don’t have to do it,” you immediately interrupt, clearly still with the wrong idea in your head. “It’s weird, I get it—”

“It’s not weird, not to me,” Aaron says, remembering the way desire flared in him. He had secretly hoped you would still be awake that night, not because he wants you to deprive yourself of sleep, but because he wanted to have you. “And it’s especially not weird if it’s something you want, too.”

You pause, staring at him wide-eyed. “Wait. You. You’d want to?”

“Absolutely,” he says, trying not to sound so unbelievably wrecked just by the thought. “But I want us to talk about it first. Set ground rules. Figure things out first.” He pauses, squeezing your hand. “Believe me, I wanted to.”

Your lips part just a little in disbelief. “You did?”

He nods seriously. “Of course I did. Do you have any idea how good you look sleeping in one of my old shirts and nothing else?”

You smirk, a wicked look brewing in your eyes. “I have an idea.”

He pulls you over into his lap for a bruising kiss, one hand cradling your jaw. It’s intoxicating, his tongue on yours, all gasps and moans as he rocks your body against his.

“Wait,” you gasp, his lips chasing yours as you pull back. “I want to talk about it.”

“We will,” he bites out, just before he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. “But I want to taste you first.”

+++

You do talk about it. You lay the ground rules, for both of you. 

Aaron orders a new pair of panties just for the occasion, so that when you wear them, it’s a signal. He can do what he wants. For him, it’s slightly different, since he always sleeps in boxers, so if he’s not wearing anything, that’s his signal. He wants to be woken up; you’re happy to be mostly asleep, though you know your body will wake you up and want to stay awake to drink him in. 

And, of course, if when either of you wake up, if it’s too much and it needs to stop immediately, you have your safe words, but a simple no, stop will work given the added complication of being asleep.

It’s exhilarating, thinking about it. Planning everything out. Your body practically buzzes with need. 

But you have no idea when it will happen. That’s the whole point, of course, but it’s complicated with your work schedules. The strange hours and days you both work has never pissed you off so badly as it does now. 

It’s as if your schedules are mocking you. Every time it feels like there might be a night where something could happen, something comes up. Aaron is called away, a case goes sideways and delays his return, or you get slammed at work and don’t make it home in time before he’s called away, or you get home in such a bad mood that if he even tried to touch you, you might lay into him.

It just never seems to line up properly, none of it. You start to think it was foolish to want it so badly, that you should’ve known better with your schedules.

Especially because now, it’s quickly approaching week two of Aaron being away on a case in Florida, and week two of you practically living at his place since going back to your own apartment feels too empty.

You miss him. It’s an aching feeling, one you don’t get often because you two make things work, and because you’re usually too busy to feel it, but it’s here now. This is the second-longest case he’s been away on. And because the universe is torturing you, work is calm for the moment, so you don’t even have that as a distraction.

All you have are Aaron’s old law school t-shirts, a bed that still, miraculously, smells like him after a week of his absence, and a pair of lace panties that seem laughable as you pull them on.

You curl up against Aaron’s pillows, sighing deeply. When you close your eyes, it’s almost like he’s next to you.

+++

Hotch is bone-tired. It’s been a long time since a case has been this wild, full of this many twists, and dragging on so long that it’s starting to piss him off. All he wanted to do was finish this case quickly and get home to his girl, but the unsub had to drag things out. For a week and a half.

It’s so late when they get back to Virginia that he doesn’t bother texting you, not wanting to risk the sound waking you from your no-doubt peaceful slumber. He smiles faintly as he drives toward his apartment, thinking of you sleeping so softly, probably twisted in the sheets from how restless you get on your own.

God, he misses you.

He’s quiet as he unlocks the door and quickly silences the alarm. The apartment is dark as he sets his briefcase down on the couch, shrugging off his suit jacket as he heads down the hall. The door to his room is cracked just barely, and soft snores are coming from a lump in the middle of the bed.

He chuckles to himself as he enters, stealing a glance at you as he walks to his closet. He quickly undresses, not bothering to hang anything up until morning. Right now, he just wants to be next to you.

With just his boxers on, he heads back to the bed, lifting the sheet and— He freezes.

You’re in your usual pajamas: his shirt and your underwear. Except this time, it’s a very specific pair of underwear. A specific pair of lace panties that he remembers ordering, probably spending too much money on, but he didn’t care. He wanted them to be special. And they are.

And you’re wearing them. 

He stands there like he’s seen a ghost, his brain momentarily short circuiting as he tries to compose himself. He swallows.

He’s only human. It’s been so long since he’s seen you, even longer since he’s touched you, or even got to hear you touch yourself. The case was too hectic for even your usual phone sex, and he didn’t realize how wild it was driving him until now.

He tosses the sheet back gently, watching as you curl further into his pillow, your body registering the sudden chill.

Slowly, he crawls over you, settling himself at the end of the bed. He can only imagine how crazed he looks right now, the way his eyes can’t leave your legs. He wants to drink you. Devour you in every way possible.

His movements are gentle, not wanting to wake you, not yet. You said you wouldn’t mind being asleep the entire time, but he wants to rouse you, wants you to really feel it even if for a moment, but not yet.

Right now, he stretches your legs out, turning you on your back. You make no noise other than a content sigh. He smirks as he spreads your legs, lowering his mouth to his favorite place.

He plans to take his time. He has all the time in the world, after all. You’re sleeping soundly.

He mouths at your core over your panties, just barely silencing his own groan. That would be something, waking you up because he can’t keep himself in line. He can already hear the playful annoyance in your sleep-filled voice if that were to happen.

Returning to his task, he drinks you in as he likes, smothering your inner thighs in kisses, even leaving a love bite or two there. It’s a private, guilty pleasure you both have. He loves to leave marks, you love to have marks. But you’re both adults and you absolutely cannot be caught with a hickey at the courthouse.

So, he leaves them here. In a place where only the two of you can see. It wakes something primal in him, seeing the little reddened marks where he’s irritated the skin enough for a bruise to form later. He smooths his thumb over the spot, pressing. If you were awake, that would earn him a little squeak. Right now, all he hears are your even breaths.

He hooks a finger into your panties, pulling them to the side, nearly cursing aloud at how beautiful you are. He has to take a moment, just admiring, his thumb gently stroking you, and already glistening. He pops the digit into his mouth, eyes rolling at the taste. You’re addicting like nothing he has ever known.

He tests the waters some more, blowing onto your core, watching in awe as your body reacts instinctively, even in your sleep. It’s mesmerizing.

He can’t wait any longer, so he doesn’t try. He surges forward, finally tasting you, finally lifting your legs to rest over his shoulders. He relaxes into his favorite place, sucking gently on your clit before dipping his tongue inside you. You don’t even shift in your sleep.

He wonders, then, if he can make you cum like this. In your sleep.

Suddenly, and albeit selfishly, he wants to try.

He takes his time inserting a finger into you, watching as you take him in so easily. He adds a second right away, knowing how much you hate it when he teases you with just one. Your walls clench around him, but your heat envelops him, and he’s dizzy with it.

He circles your clit with his tongue as he thrusts his fingers, curling just slightly until you clench, your body telling him he’s found what he was searching for. And he doesn’t relent, only massages that spot inside as his mouth works outside. He adds a third finger, your body welcoming the stretch, pulling him in.

You shift, and he comes up for air, watching your face, but you don’t wake. You melt into the pillows as his fingers continue their pace.

Relieved in some twisted way, he returns to sucking your clit, doubling down, forcing you toward that edge. He almost thinks it won’t happen, that there’s no possible way you’ll climax and not wake up, until he feels those tell-tale spasms, and he knows you’re close.

He groans into you, knowing how that sends you over when you’re awake, and it works even now. Your walls clench around him, spasming through the shocks of your orgasm, and he doesn’t stop, milking out every last bit, wanting to drown in the way you taste, the way your body relents.

You’re a dream. He presses a loving kiss to your inner thigh, disbelief in his every breath. Gently, he removes his fingers, and tugs your panties down, tossing them to the floor. 

When he crawls back up the bed, you’re still sleeping soundly, but that won’t do.

He presses his erection into your hip, presses a kiss to your jaw, whispering, “Honey, I need you.”

+++

You’re floating on pure bliss. Dreams are rare these days, and dreams of Aaron are even rarer — which just feels rude, honestly. But this one. This one is the best you’ve ever had.

Only, you realize you aren’t dreaming at all. The sensations are real. The hot breath in your ear, the slick want between your thighs, the hard press of Aaron’s cock as he rocks against your hip.

But you’re so tired. You can’t bring your eyes to open. You barely have enough energy to turn toward him, to wrap an arm around his neck, toss your leg over his, pressing your core right against him. The growl he lets out is delicious.

The next thing you know, the boxers are no longer separating you, and the head of his cock is parting your lips. 

You sigh in content as he thrusts into you, hitting you so deep, staying there just to grind his hips into yours.

“Missed you,” you murmur, hands clumsily tugging on his hair to pull his lips to yours. He goes without protest, licking into your mouth and you gasp in surprise, tasting yourself. “Did you…?”

He smirks against your lips. “Did you know you can have an orgasm in your sleep?”

Your eyes fly open at that, vision adjusting in the dark, but it’s easy to see the smug look on Aaron’s face. And then he pulls his hips back, slamming into you again and causing your eyes to roll back. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, the words so gentle and soothing, a stark comparison to how brutal his pace and depth of his thrusts are. “Breathtaking. My sleeping beauty. Can you give me another one? Need to feel you again.”

You’re awake, but nowhere near alert enough to have any wits about you when he talks like that. You nod dumbly, rocking your hips in time with his, but your movements are sloppy, the pleasure rising at a blinding pace.

“Come on, honey,” he murmurs, capturing your lips again, his tongue searching for yours. “Just one more, then you can go back to sleep.”

Something about that does it for you. He thrusts as deep as he can go, and your body crashes, writhing against him as he holds you in place, grinding into you.

“There you go, so beautiful, honey,” he guides you through it, soaking up all of your little breathy moans.

But like every time when you have an orgasm (or two) when you’re already on the verge of sleep, your eyes are struggling to stay open.

“Aaron…” you whine, clinging to him. “Keep going.”

“Oh, I will, honey,” he chuckles, pressing a soothing kiss to your forehead before flipping you onto your back again, so he can hover over you. “You just sleep for me, okay?”

You nod, the action already taking too much of your energy as your eyelids slam closed and refuse to lift again. He moves inside you, slower now, just a gentle pace, lulling you back to sleep.

It doesn’t take long for him to spill inside of you, and you’re still somewhat conscious, given the happy little sigh he hears you let out when he cums inside you. You’ve always loved the feeling. 

Feeling wrecked, he slowly peels himself off of you, heading into the bathroom to wet a washcloth. When he returns, you’re back on your side, hugging his pillow again. He shushes you with gentle praise while he cleans you up before tucking you back in.

After cleaning himself and slipping boxers back on, the exhaustion hits him in full force, and he sleeps soundly with you tucked into his chest, clinging to him like a koala.

[kylopen]

Yes, My lord?

18+ MINORS DNI

Warnings: Brain rotting SMUT, barely any plot, reader is 1 month pregnant (you could probs imagine she is not if you really wanted to) Mentions of body insecurities, super fluffy, Anthony is so whipped for Y/N. Borderline pregnancy/breeding kink? switch reader, switch Anthony. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it guys.

Summary: Since finding out you are pregnant Anthony simply cannot keep his hands to himself, and when you turn the tables his arousal runs wild.

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X Reader

Masterlist

Length: 1.8k words

Note: I could NOT get this scenario out of my head, i had to get this written and published *sobs*

----

"That was a rather delightful evening"

You smile as you and Anthony ascend to your bedchamber for the night. The two of you had planned a ball to tell your family and friends the news of your pregnancy. The night was filled with laughs and joy from the family, excited about Anthony's first child with you.

The two of you approach the door and Anthony opens it for you, ushering you inside.

"Indeed, dear wife."

Anthony's eyes crinkle lightly at the sides as he smiles at you, approaching you from behind, fingers expertly undoing your corset. You sigh in relief, goosebumps on your skin at the feeling of release from your day clothes. Turning to face him you also begin to help Anthony from his clothes as he laughs lightly at your eagerness to help him.

Now nude in the middle of the room, Anthony looks you over in the faint candle light, his hand softly moving along the curves of your body. He follows closely behind as you perch yourself at your vanity, ready to take out your elaborate hairstyle. Anthony's hand gently pushes yours away from your head as he begins to take it out for you, looking at you through the mirror. His gaze was intense but loving, his eyes trained thoroughly on your flustered response to the intimate gesture.

"Look at me"

The sentence was commanding but gentle. You lift your eyes and he reaches for the hairbrush just beside you on the table. he begins slowly brushing your hair, gently getting rid of any knots or tangles. Anthony was always a gentle lover, but immediately after finding out you were carrying his child he became dead set on helping you with what he could. His tender nature shining through as he aids you in your bedtime grooming process. The feeling of his hands softly grazing your neck as he brushes has you in a trance, the soothing feeling of knowing you are safe and well taken care of my a man that loves you.

He begins massaging your scalp carefully as you let out a hum of approval. Anthony lets out a quiet laugh as he watches the bliss form on your face.

"I love you, Mr Bridgerton" you tease his formal name.

"Likewise, Mrs Bridgerton, I will love you for the rest of my life"

Butterflies flutter around in your stomach as you realise just how exposed the two of you are. Then it dawns on you, looking down at your puffy stomach, feeling as though you have already gained some baby weight. It had only been a month and you weren't even really showing yet. A flash of insecurity dances across your features at the thought of getting bigger. At this point, the Viscount could read you like a book and he stops his movements in your hair to lean down and kiss your head.

"Speak what is on your mind, my love"

You think for a second before answering.

"...My... Body..." you trail off.

"You are the most beautiful woman i have ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. Even more so now you are carrying our child."

You look down and pinch your widened hips, and in response Anthony moves your hand away, caressing you. He then grabs your hand, pulling you up to stand with his chest touching your back.

"There is nothing more appealing to me than my beautiful wife swelling with my seed..." his eyes darken at the thought as he begins to pepper kisses along your jawline and neck, lightly nipping and sucking and you shiver in his arms.

Heat rushes straight to your cheeks and in between your legs as you feel a solid length press against your lower back. You breath out shakily as he presses it harder against your backside.

"Anthony..." You moan softly, bordering a whimper.

The second he hears his name from your lips in such a tone he struggles to hold back, the heat in the room thickening with lust. He pushes you gently onto the bed and settles himself behind you, spooning you. His slightly rough hand glides slowly up and down your side, upper thigh to hip to shoulders. He caresses every part of your body paying extra attention to the parts you were most conscious about. You let out more whimpers from the intimacy of it all, your face feeling incredibly hot and you squirm under the touch. Your thighs squeeze together to relieve yourself in some way, only making Anthony smirk and his touches becoming more daring. His fingertips ghost along your nipples, but fall back down elsewhere on your body.

"Anthony... I am already-" you shudder as he passes by a particularly sensitive spot. "I am already pregnant..."

His laugh rumbles against your back.

"I am aware. That does not mean we cannot enjoy each others bodies hm, dear?" His tone was devilish as his touches become more bold. You flip onto your back and slightly part your legs with a pleading look to Anthony.

"So needy and impatient Viscountess Bridgerton" He tuts with a smirk.

Deciding to take matters into your own hands you launch up, planting yourself on top of him with heated cheeks. If he will be so cruel and tease you even in his aroused state, you would use him yourself. A look of surprise flashes across his face before it grows into an incredibly cocky looking grin. His body betrays him, as his chest rises and falls at a fast pace.

"What is this? darling wife." he cocks his head to the side, the same grin on his face. His eyes hold a fiery hunger.

"It seems, dear husband-" you adjust yourself just enough to tease his length and he softly moans, "That you enjoy your Lady wife taking control" you smirk, a new found confidence flowing through you at the look of your husband from above him.

He grabs your hips with both hands and grinds your core against him.

"My Lord" you moan, breathless, aware of what the title does to him.

"Y/N... I am warning you-" he begins to speak, using your name but you cut him off, pinning his hands above his head.

"Yes, My Lord?" You smirk at him as you lean in close, your lips ghosting his, only to pull away when he goes in for a kiss. You keep one hand holding his up as your other hand begins exploring your husbands chest, teasing him the way he was teasing you. Your finger lightly brushes against his groin before going up to his nipple, softly pinching the bud and a guttural moan escapes his mouth.

"How improper my Lord" you feign a gasp and he lets out a soft chuckle at your words, enjoying the confidence from his beautiful wife. The thrill and excitement from you pinning his hands above his head is almost too much to bare as he gets impossibly harder against your core. He couldn't dare say it aloud but the feeling of being at your mercy, a simple toy to you made his body weak. He could very easily remove his hands from your grasp and the two of you know it, and yet he does not move.

You plant hot, open mouth kisses on his chiseled chest, your arousal already coating his groin. he shudders under your touch and the wet feeling on his lower torso.

"You seem excited my Lord... Has something got you so?" you cock your head to the side, feigning an innocence and he groans at the sight of the same woman he gave her first orgasm to have him completely at her mercy.

"I could ask you the same thing, My dear" His tease came across in gravelly voice that screamed he was ready to take you here and now.

His cock sandwiched firmly between his abdomen and your wet pussy, you begin to rock your hips back and forward, sliding easily. The pressure on your clit had you whimpering and had him moaning in a deep voice.

"You are going to be the death of me" he looks deep into your eyes as you slide him inside you, the two of you moaning at the feeling. The teasing you both had endured was very clearly affecting you both, being incredibly sensitive.

He watches with hooded eyes as you bring your hand to your clit and begin to stimulate yourself. He could have sworn he died that very moment at the sight. It was not long at all until you came, and he relished in the feeling of your cunt throbbing around him.

"Y/N" He moans, moving his hands to your hips, squeezing the soft flesh.

"Do you wish to finish my Lord?" You smile sweetly.

"Yes I do, my dear" His reply full of lust, and a hint of neediness.

"Beg" The sweetness was immediately replaced with cockiness.

The command was simple but powerful as you look into his eyes, holding his jaw with your hand. He felt a shock wave of pleasure shoot through his body.

"Please..." his flustered face was incredibly cute.

"You can do better than that" you move slightly, to tease the feeling.

"Please! Oh god please" you almost came at the sound of his begs.

"You are free to do so... My Lor-"

Before you could finish your sentence, he sat up, you still on his lap and inside him. His hands grasped at your hips as he bucked up into you, his moans coming out as grunts mixed with whines. Hitting up into your g-spot mixed with his needy grunts and thrusts you came again, causing his orgasm to reach its peak, he continues to bounce you on top of him as he spills his seed deep inside of you.

Anthony falls back, his face delirious and euphoric, yours looking similar as you flop down onto his chest, his cock still buried inside you, slowly softening.

Within minutes he snaps out of it, gently pulling you off him, and onto the bed, approaching a second later with a wet towel he opens your legs and cleans you up, slightly smirking at the mess and your flustered face. after cleaning you up he places a soft kiss to your inner thigh and crawls back into bed with you.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders and you move your head onto his chest, feeling exhausted. The room was filled with your soft snores in no time at all and he places a kiss on top of your head, a smile on his face as he looks at you.

"I am incredibly lucky to have you, my beautiful wife" he whispers before softly touching your stomach.

"And you too, my beautiful baby"

~End~

[stellasdrafts]

Slow Morning with Leon Kennedy

Summary: a warm winter morning after with your boyfriend. (RE4R Leon x Reader)

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: alludes to sexual content happening the night before, no smut, ur so in loooooove. would it even be a story of mine if it wasn’t at least a bit angsty? tooth-rotting fluff, unspecified gender of reader.

Notes: writing the aftermath because i’m scared of writing smut. #needthat. also, happy holidays to everyone celebrating stuff at the moment! <3

You awaken with the golden morning sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains and casting an entrancing glow on your bedroom walls. Every morning, the sight reminds you of that afternoon spent at the furniture store where you and your boyfriend deliberated way too long over picking the perfect amenities for your first place together. Leon wanted some blackout curtains, but you figured some pretty see-through ones could start off the day with some much-needed serotonin. You got your way and you were right. You’re home a lot more than Leon, anyway. It feels like he’s always gone on missions. He typically can’t even disclose the details of them to you, either, leaving you to find out he was risking his life across the globe only when he comes back. That feeling of hopelessness – of not knowing where your partner is, or if he’s safe… it’s a most devastating feeling you wouldn’t wish upon anyone.

It's that D.S.O. agent’s arm, sleepily thrown across your midriff, that now pins you down to the heavenly mattress. You couldn’t escape this warm, golden confinement even if you wanted to. He’s recently come back from Spain and can’t keep his hands off of you since – not that you mind the constant affection. You can’t so much as brush your teeth without having strong arms wrap around you from behind, or cook dinner without him plastering kisses down your neck and shoulders, or even pick out your clothes in the morning without getting groped lovingly. And despite all of that, there’s still a tenseness to the way he moves, the way he carries himself. As if you’re both waiting for the other shoe to drop – waiting for him to be ripped away from you again. So you take the time you have now to admire his sleeping form. It’s the only time he truly looks peaceful. You trace a careful thumb over the space between his brows. There are usually a few tense lines there, giving away the insurmountable stress he carries with him wherever he goes. You’d give anything to have him like this all the time: warm, safe, at ease and at home.

He begins to stir and you continue to caress the angles of his pretty face. His long lashes flutter slowly. He looks godly, with the white sheet thrown loosely over his bare frame and the celestial light glowing from the window behind him…

“Morning, baby~” he croaks groggily, making you smile. He only calls you pet names when his mind is dazed from sleep, or in especially tender moments.

“Shhh,” you coo. “Go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He shakes his head ever so slightly, despite struggling to keep his stormy eyes open. He nuzzles closer to you. “M’awake now,” he mumbles against the skin of your chest.

“Sorry.”

He gives you a look that you read perfectly – don’t apologize – and playfully nips the fat of your chest. You squeak, still sensitive from his generous attention to it last night, before giving his hair a light tug away. He just grins like the beautiful fool he is for you. “Careful. Don’t start somethin’ you can’t finish. Must still be pretty spent from last night.”

“Fiend.” You scoff, but he can’t see anything other than amusement on your angelic face. “You’re that confident in your abilities?” you pull his leg for no reason – he very well should be.

“Mhm.” The blond yawns. He stretches onto his back causing the thin sheet to drag down and his defined v-line to peek ever so slightly from above it.

Your face warms and you make to get out of bed before the urge to start last night’s endeavours all over again takes over. “First thing in the morning. Shameful,” you scold half-heartedly as if you aren’t having the exact same thoughts.

Leon groans and hooks a toned arm around your waist. “Don’t,” he pleads, pulling you back down into his warmth.

You giggle, reaching back to hold him back. “Don’t you have anywhere to be? Won’t Hunnigan want to see you?”

He nuzzles his face into your neck, never getting enough of your warmness, your smell, your everything. The linens already smell like you. Part of him aches at the realization that there isn’t a hint of him there, granted he’s been gone on missions a lot. He’ll take waking up and having his senses consumed by you over waking up sore in a shitty motel, or even worse on something that’s not even meant to be slept on in the middle of a mission. Anyday. “No. I fought like hell to get time off for the holidays.”

That snaps you out of your cozy wooziness in a shared heartbeat. Your head jerks back to look at him, your eyes wide in disbelief, shining with a rare light of hope. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He dares to grin, pleased with your adorable reaction. Lovingly, he pulls you up to straddle his lap.

It always makes your stomach turn, how effortlessly he can handle you around. With a last-second thought, you pull a sheet along with you to create a weak barrier between your intimate parts and him, still wanting to relish in the comfort a moment more before things inevitably turn heated again. You bask in the idea of the two of you getting to pretend to live a normal life for a week or two. You could have this domesticity every morning…

He shoots you a mischievous look. “Minx.”

You only laugh. “We have all the time in the world.”

He sits up to litter warm kisses along your tender neck, his hands resting firmly on your hips. “And I plan to take advantage of every second,” he finishes your sentence.

To egg him on, you tangle your fingers in his hair. “Oh! We can make breakfast together… And I didn’t finish decorating the apartment! And we could go ice staking! I still can’t believe you don’t know how,” you begin to ramble, getting pleasantly overwhelmed with the possibility of all the seasonal activities you could finally do with the love of your life.

He chuckles softly, lifting his head from your neck. His lips are starting to swell deliciously. “Sure, baby. Anything you want.”

Leon was never a religious man, but he’d worship you if he could – drop to his knees and pray for a drop of your attention – his saving grace. He intended to make his devotion clear every crisp morning during this break.

[khywren]

Denouement

pairing: Astarion/f!reader rating: 18+ MDNI word count: 3.1k tags/warnings: smut, emotional sex, piv sex, fingering, soft spawn Astarion

summary: Bergamot and rosemary ensnare your senses, and your eyes flutter closed. Here in his arms, you are safe. Home. “I think I'm ready to try again,” Astarion says after a moment, pulling you close. “Just you. Just us.” ────────── In which Astarion is ready to explore intimacy with you once again.

a/n: based on this little drabble from the other week! the title is derived from a literary device where all the threads of a story finally come together - the a-ha moment, if you will. i thought it was rather fitting for this piece, given the circumstances. :)

AO3 ┊ masterlist

It's well past sundown when you join Astarion in your shared bedroom. You find him in his usual spot, needle and thread in hand as he busies himself with a bit of embroidery. Deft fingers weave the needle through the fabric, defining the outline of what looks to be the petals of a rose. Lost in his work, he seems not to notice your arrival.

You've already dressed for bed. The sleeves of his old camp shirt nearly fall past your fingertips, and although the garment doesn't quite swallow you, it's still loose enough to be comfortable in the lingering summer heat. 

Astarion had made plenty of sarcastic remarks when you had insisted on keeping it, teasing you about being overly sentimental. Perhaps there was some truth to that, but the first time he had laid eyes on you when you came to bed wearing little else but that same shirt, laces loose enough to expose the tantalizing swell of your breasts beneath the fabric, it had been all the vindication you needed. 

You wear it now out of habit more than anything, ensuring that you remain enveloped in his scent even during those rare times his arms aren't wrapped snugly around you in the middle of the night.

As you pad quietly across the floorboards, Astarion looks up, gaze sweeping across the room before finally settling on you. He's looking at you like he did that first time, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and you catch his throat bob as he swallows thickly. 

His eyes never leave you, even as he sets his work aside on the nightstand. It's hard to know what he's thinking, and for a moment you almost wish you still had your tadpoles so you could peer into his mind.

Hand outstretched, he beckons you to him.

Few things about Astarion surprise you anymore, but there's something different about the way he laces your fingers between his own and tugs you down into his lap, something possessive that catalyzes a shiver of excitement within you. Gooseflesh blooms in its wake, and you settle comfortably on top of his thighs.

His fingers caress your jaw and glide through the soft hair at the nape of your neck, guiding your lips down to meet his own. The kiss is insistent but soft, a gentle tug on your roots prompting you to open your mouth for him. Astarion eagerly slips his tongue inside, humming contentedly into your mouth as he kisses you breathless.

When he remembers that you need to breathe, he reluctantly lets you pull away. He's waiting for the moment you let him have you once more, his impatience evident in the way he furrows his brow and slots his mouth back over yours when he feels you've taken long enough.

You laugh against the press of his lips.

“Astarion, what's gotten into you?”

He silences your protests with another barrage of kisses, tearing his mouth away from yours only to pepper more of them across the curve of your jaw as he traces a searing path towards your ear. You're fond of the way his fangs graze your skin, the gentle nips he gives you as he turns his attention to your earlobe.

Your breath hitches, your body becoming pliant in his arms as he clamps his free hand around your waist. Caged within your ribs, your heart drums its staccato beat.

“I've been thinking,” he murmurs against your ear between kisses, his voice barely above a whisper.

“That sounds awfully dangerous.” Your hands find their way into his shirt, bunching tightly in the fabric. It's the only thing anchoring you, the mischievous little inflection in his tone yet another spark that threatens to kindle a roaring inferno of desire within you.

When he pulls back to look at you, his eyes are the fire that finally sets you alight, blazing red embers that simmer with need. You feel warm, almost deliriously so, as the heat that had been pooling low in your stomach begins to ebb throughout the rest of your body.

“Oh,” he drawls, grinning through his fangs. “You've no idea, darling.”

You match his smirk, earning first a quiet gasp and then a satisfied sigh when you surge forward to kiss him once more. The grip he has on you tightens, fingertips digging into the plush part of your thighs as his hand slips beneath your shirt.

“Should I be concerned?” you tease.

“It’s nothing quite that scandalous, I'm afraid,” he remarks with a click of his tongue, breath almost warm as it fans across your lips.

Head cocked to the side, you sit back on your calves and study his face. He's been acting strange, but you can find nothing in his expression that might explain his behavior.

Astarion seems to sense your unanswered question when he says, “What? I'm quite serious, darling.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes incredulously.

“Then what do you call all of this?”

Astarion's lips are cool as he presses them against the column of your throat, enjoying the warmth of your skin and the feeling of your blood pulsing just beneath the surface. He groans quietly, and you feel the way the noise rumbles in his throat.

“Consider it a thought experiment.”

You aren't quite certain what he means by that, but when both of his hands settle firmly on the curve of your waist and he lifts his head to rest his brow against yours, your mind is immediately swept clear of all coherent thought.

Bergamot and rosemary ensnare your senses, and your eyes flutter closed. Here in his arms, you are safe. Home.

“I think I'm ready to try again,” Astarion says after a moment, pulling you close. “Just you. Just us.”

You remember the drow twins. Astarion had seemed so eager then, too, but it had all been too much, too soon. Later that same evening, he had buried his face into the crook of your arm to conceal his disappointment, and you had soothed him with a gentle hand through his hair, reassuring him that everything was fine.

That had been the last time either of you had been intimate with each other. You knew what he had needed was time, and you had more than enough to spare.

His body is responsive enough, that much you can concede. You can feel it in the way he tenses beneath you, and the hardening ridge of his cock beneath his trousers.

And yet…

You take his face in your hands, thumbs resting on the apples of his cheeks. Tipping his chin upwards, you search his eyes, but he does not balk under your scrutiny. You find them clear and bright. Present. The flicker of lamplight catches the myriad shades of red, reflecting brilliantly as an affectionate smile slowly spreads across his face. He lays a single hand over one of yours, squeezing gently.

“Okay,” you breathe, pressing a tender kiss to his brow. “Okay.”

The words have only just left your mouth before Astarion’s hand is on your back, supporting your weight as he flips the both of you over and eases you back onto the mattress beneath him. An errant wave of your hand extinguishes the lantern beside the bed, leaving the pair of you swathed in silvery moonlight.

In his haste to remove his shirt, Astarion gets caught somewhere in the tangle of his sleeves, and you giggle as he tosses it away with a huff of embarrassment.

You anticipate some sort of sarcastic quip from him, but his mouth is too busy lavishing you with open-mouthed kisses, anywhere and everywhere your skin is exposed to him. His hands, too, are ever-eager, bracingly cold against your bare stomach as he hikes your borrowed shirt up and over your shoulders. 

You sit up just enough for him to remove it, tossed aside as haphazardly as his own. The moment his hands are free, he resumes his exploration of your body, fingers mapping out every inch of you as they glide over your torso and the expanse of your thighs. Every time he reaches somewhere particularly sensitive, you feel him grin against you, mentally cataloging the information for future use. Every soft sigh, every wanton moan, all of them are music to his ears, a symphony for him alone.

“Stunning,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, drawing a low moan from your lips as he palms your bare breast. “You are simply… gods. ”

Astarion pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the taut bud between them. You whimper and writhe beneath him, breaths shallow as you squeeze your eyes shut. Your hands fumble for purchase in his hair, fingers threading through his soft curls and dragging his face close enough to kiss him again.

He captures every wanton noise you make for him as he kneads and teases your breasts, enjoying the ease with which a single swipe of his thumb stiffens your nipples into pert little peaks.

“Astarion…” you whine, high-pitched and needy. You meet his eyes again, vision hazy through half-closed lids. “I…”

“Shh,” he hushes you, coaxing your thighs open with the knee he slides between your legs. “I know. Patience, love.”

Astarion rewards you with the hand that trails over your stomach, purposely featherlight as he builds the anticipation growing within your core. You know what he means to do, and the thought alone has your heart hammering wildly.

You help him kick off your underwear after he tugs them down your thighs, exposing your aching center. You are slick with desire for him, quite certain you might just unravel completely the instant he touches you.

His fingertips dance over the inside of your thigh, trailing up, up, up. You throw your arms around his neck, breath caught in your throat.

“Yes,” you whisper. “Yes, yes…”

Your body sings in ecstasy as Astarion's fingers drag a torturously slow path along your center, gathering the arousal that's pooled between your slick folds. The sensation is enough that your back bows off the mattress at the same time you dig your nails into his shoulders, throat raw as you cry out for him.

Astarion watches you with all the reverence of a devout worshiper, transfixed by the way you respond so beautifully to his touch.

“Is this what you wanted, sweet girl?” he asks, tracing his fingers in lazy circles around your oversensitive clit. Your hips buck against him of their own accord, pushing you even further into the open palm of his hand.

“Yes,” you say again, the only word your addled mind can grasp. “Yes, that feels – ohhhh… ”

Your voice breaks into a choked sob when Astarion presses two fingers against your entrance, slowly working you open as they slide inside your tight, wet heat. Your walls flutter around him, pulsing as he pumps his fingers in and out of you at a slow, delicious pace.

“Astarion, please…” you whimper, “make me come.”

Astarion uses his free hand to sweep an errant lock of hair from your face, tucking it affectionately behind your ear. His fingers linger on your face, tenderly tipping your chin up before he captures your lips in a brief yet passionate kiss.

“I will, my love,” he promises. “All in good time.” His expression shifts, not quite stern, but his face loses some of its softness when he asks, “Do you want my fingers or my cock?”

Astarion's face fits so nicely in your hands as you reach up to cradle it in your palms, and he has nowhere to look but into your eyes, a tempest of lust, love, and longing.

“Your cock,” you tell him. “I want to come on your cock.”

Something akin to pride flits across his face, a smile of pure satisfaction curling the edges of his mouth as Astarion reaches to unlace his trousers. They disappear with his underwear over the edge of the bed, his cock springing free as a relieved sigh slips past his lips.

“Thank the gods,” he groans, sliding a hand through his hair to tame his unkempt curls and sweep them back. “I can be patient when the need arises, but even I have my limits.”

You laugh and part your legs wide to accommodate him as he settles between them, one hand working his cock as he readies himself for you.

Even in the dim light, his eyes seem to glimmer like inset gems, his gaze trained on your face as he takes in the sight of you beneath him.

Astarion splays a hand on your waist to steady himself, guiding his cock between your legs. He slicks himself with your arousal, rocking his hips against you in slow, rhythmic motions.

He isn't even inside you yet, but he already has you whimpering, the friction igniting every nerve ending in your body.

Your eyes trail down the length of your stomach, unable to keep yourself from staring as he thrusts lazily against you. The blunt head of his cock grinds against your clit, sending wave after wave of arousal pulsing through you.

“Eyes on me, darling,” Astarion says.

You obey without thinking. By the time your gaze finds his, your face is flushed, mouth open as your breaths come in ragged little pants.

An easy smile spreads over his face, and the hand on your waist moves to gently cup your cheek.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

There is nothing but adoration in his voice, and you laugh softly when you tell him, “Yes, plenty of times. But never like this.”

“You are,” he reiterates, smoothing the pad of his thumb over your skin.

“Especially like this. My beautiful girl.”

Your cheeks burn, but Astarion doesn't give you enough time to feel self-conscious for very long before he begins to push inside you, slowly burying himself inside your waiting warmth with a few shallow thrusts. Your body molds to his completely, and it's as if the two of you were made for one another.

He feels so good inside you – so perfect, so complete. He can feel it too, almost lost within the mounting pleasure that knits his brows together and compels his mouth to fall slack.

Astarion doesn't move at first, content enough to simply be , eyes crinkling with the smile on his face as you take his hands in your own, interlacing your fingers.

There are no words to convey his thoughts properly, so he chooses instead to show you the only way he can. He pulls almost completely out of you, agonizingly slow as he drags his cock along your walls. 

When you give him what he wants, a low, breathy moan, he rolls his hips forward again, pushing himself deep inside. He sets a slow, purposeful pace, bottoming out with every languid thrust as your hips meet flush. It's amazing how even like this, he can build the tension inside you, every one of his movements perfectly calculated to bring you both incredible pleasure.

You can tell he's holding back, that he wants to lose himself in you completely. But you know that it's about so much more. It's about listening to the persistent beating of your heart, the way your hands feel as he holds them between your bodies and gazes into your eyes.

It’s about finally reclaiming the pieces of himself he once thought lost for good, a thousand nameless faces that did nothing but take and take and take until there was nothing left for him to give.

And you – you asked for nothing, letting him set whatever boundaries he needed.

It would be impossible for him to do anything but love you. And he does. More than anything, he adores you.

You use your grip on his hands to tug him closer to you, arms slipping around his back as he presses his chest to yours. Astarion’s thrusts gradually become less controlled, hips rolling into you with growing need as he savors the feel of you beneath him – so warm, so alive, so…

“Mine,” he affirms, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Mine, mine, mine.”

His arms bracket either side of your head, one hand cradling the base of your skull as he holds you close, like so much flotsam set adrift in the roiling ocean.

“Yes, Astarion,” you tell him. “Always, always…”

Astarion moves to adjust his position between your legs, angling himself just so that every snap of his hips thrusts his cock against that sensitive spot inside you. You cry out his name, little crescent moons adorning his back everywhere you've dug your fingers into his skin.

“I – I’m going to – Astarion –”

“Yes, my love,” he groans into your ear, lifting his head just enough to see the way your face contorts with pleasure each time he thrusts himself inside you. “Come for me, let me feel you come undone.”

His hand is between your thighs once more, expertly circling your clit with the pad of his index finger. Your toes curl into the mattress, pupils blown as you find yourself swept up in the intensity of his crimson eyes.

One, two, three thrusts more is all it takes before you shatter, back arched as you cry out for him. Your walls pulse around his cock as you tumble headfirst into euphoria, clinging to him desperately as he fucks you through it, elevating the intensity of your orgasm.

Only then does Astarion let himself go, grunting as he pistons into you, unable to deny himself this simple pleasure any longer. You feel the moment he reaches his own peak, spilling himself inside you with a stuttering groan as he clumsily kisses you over and over again.

He doesn't pull out immediately, selfishly indulging in your body’s warmth. You are a tangle of limbs as he finally falls to the mattress beside you, immediately pulling your body back against him with the arm he wraps firmly around you. 

Astarion gazes up at you, mouthing your name so softly, as if he's afraid it might break under the weight of his devotion.

“I love you.”

He says it again and again, his heart aching as you gather him in your arms and press a kiss against his mouth. 

“I love you too,” you murmur against his lips, sighing as you feel the wide grin that spreads over his face. 

You drift off with his head pillowed on your chest, comforted by the drumming of your heart and the hand you entangle with his own. By the time you wake, he's still nestled up against you, blissfully unaware of how beautiful he is as he slumbers peacefully in your embrace.

You smile fondly at him, content to let him rest for as long as he likes. Truth be told, there's nowhere else you'd rather be.

[manicmanuscription]

Solstice and Sorrow

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 3904

Warnings/Tags: Extreme angst, toxic friends, dark thoughts, fluff, happy endings.

Summary: What will happen when Selena’s (OC) toxic friends poison her mind and make her doubt her worthiness of Azriel when she’s already struggling with intense flashbacks and PTSD during this Solstice season

acotar masterlist | main masterlist

Selena usually loved the holidays. That feeling of contentment that thrummed in her chest when the air started getting colder, when the spiders, ghosts and pumpkins slowly started turning to wreaths and twinkling lights and she absolutely adored winter solstice. Selena loved sitting around a fire and chatting with her friends a whiskey or hot fudge in hand, she loved giving meaningful gifts to her family. Everything about the holiday was so special.

Yet this year was different. 

Azriel had been working on the continent for four months so far, which was…fine. It was fine. It wasn’t the first time he had been gone for so long. Selena had always done her best to manage. Throwing herself into her work  until her hands bled that she didn’t have time to think about the ache in her chest. It was harder this time though, not having him  here to cozy up with by the fire as snow fell, or to make gingerbread with their nephew. 

She had shoved that bittersweet feeling far down though, occasional loving tugs on the bond and the cold weather increasing the numbr of patients she dealt with all got her through the day. 

It wasn’t until she recieved written word that he would not be able return in time for Solstice that Selena had gotten really upset, her heart sinking. She had shut off the bond as soon as she had read Azriel’s letter so he wouldn’t feel her sadness and had ignored the twinge of guilt that passed over before she did. 

It was her favorite holiday and she wouldn’t be spending it with her mate, the love of her life. Selena had burst into tears right then and there. She was so exhausted these last few months, running suspiciously close to burnout and all she wanted was him. 

So of course after a few days of wallowing she went to her childhood friends, they had been begging to see her and drinking in their favorite bar to ignore her feelings sounded like the perfect way to spend her evening and for awhile, it was. The music was just right and the drinks poured faster than Selena could blink. But when she had explained to her friends why she felt so off, they had responed so weirdly. 

“Spending every second attached to his hip isn’t enough?”

“Girl..this is good for you! You need some time for yourself.”

“No..we don’t mean it like that just… I mean come on we haven’t seen you in months, and now your complaining about the person your -and no offense honey you know we love you- literally always with.”

“You know what we mean, like you’re always all over him- give the male some room to breathe!”

Selena had left after that, and with the alcohol numbing her she couldn’t feel the harsh cold nipping at her bare shoulders. Her friend’s words echoing in her head until they were the only thing she could focus on. She knew she was clingy, physical touch had always been her love language. It was a reminder that they were safe, that they were here with her, not only that but she loved touching Azriel. Loved holding his hand under the table and crawling into his lap on the couch. Tears welled up in her eyes as she distantly remembered comments from Azriel’s brother’s when he introduced her a few decades ago. They had been surprised at his…willingness to her.

“Who are you and what have you done with Azriel.”

“If you’re here I guess Lena isn’t far behind.”

“And he…let’s you do that?”

Her mind was a whirlwind of memories and voices all overlapping in her head, it made her drunken head spin even faster when suddenly the thought came up so fast from the darkest part’s of her it had her pausing in the middle of the snow covered street. 

What if she was somehow forcing herself on him?

What if he had been pretending he was fine with all her advances but in reality he hated them? What if for over a hundred years she had been making her mate deeply uncomfortable? 

She let out a strangled sob at the thought. Trying to force herself to be quiet lest she wake anyone up with her misery at this ungodly hour. She had always tried to be respectful, but she had gotten too comfortable and now-

Now she was making Azriel resent her. 

Selena couldn’t stop the full on cry that fell from her lips, stumbling forward as tears blurred her vision on her walk home, she didn’t know when she tripped on the loose stone’s and cut her knee open, she didn’t know when the shadows had enough of her pity party and winnowed her home. Selena barely even remembered those same shadows tucking her in bed before slinking off to tell their master. 

———

The next morning she was woken up by the blinding intrusion of the sun. Selena groaned, her head was pounding and she turned away from the window, hoping to escape the light but hissed at the pain raidiating through her body at the movement. It took her a few moment’s to remember what happened last night and when she did, she curled up even further in the blankets as she cried once again. Everything felt heavy, like the weight of the entire world was crushing in on her slowly and she couldn’t escape it. Couldn’t escape the truth that she was a horrible mate. The shame was crushing her heart, distant traumatic memories a faint buzzing in the back of her head and Selena decided to stay in bed just a little while longer, at least until she had to get ready for tonight’s Solstice celebration.

Time moved slowly and yet too fast. She had just watched the clock on the wall tick the minutes by, falling in and out of sleep to avoid the heaviness of her thoughts, everything felt numb and yet when the sun started going down Selena felt like she needed more time to rest, to pull herself together.

With a pained sigh she forced herself out of bed, ignoring how the few shadows Azriel left behind in case of emergencies swirled around her feet to make sure she was steady. Her shoulder was throbbing and her knee hurt like a bitch and once she was looking at herself in the mirror she knew why. The fall she had taken was still fuzzy in her mind and she was almost postive that the shadows had lessened the damage. But a bruised shoulder and a scabbed knee was nothing in comparison to some of the other injuries she had faced in this lifetime. The massive hangover wasn’t going to help her healing process so Selena applied some of the ointment’s she kept in the cabinent and took a vial of foul tasting medicine for her headache and set to getting ready for dinner. 

———

Azriel knew how important Winter Solstice was to his beautiful mate. Her family celebrated loudly every year before their untimely and gruesome deaths. Whether or not his lovely wife wanted to admit it he could tell that she needed him around even more during this time, to celebrate just as loud as she had before, to cherish and hold her even tighter as a reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere. But this damned assignment was ruining everything. He had been stuck an a different continent for months with little to no communication with Selena given the severity of this situation- trying to hunt down rumours about harming the little prince of night. He wished he could shadow-step immediately into his sweetheart’s arms but with how spread thin his magic and how much it would take to do so would nearly if not assuredly kill him. So a flying and winnow combo was the only way he could make it to her and he had left days ago determined to return for her favorite holiday. 

Yet he had severly underestimated how much energy he had left for shadow-walking, it was taking more time than usual especially trying to avoid detection from other courts lest he cause a political nightmare. So Azriel regrettedly sent a letter, the words appearing on the magic paper faster than he currently was, he could feel her mates disappointment before she hide it away and the thought almost had him not wanting to return at all to avoid facing that sadness head on. But everything ached for her, every second away felt like his body was slowly shutting down. The bond in his chest anxiously awaiting to return to his other half. He was flying above the clouds nearing Pyrthian’s border when suddenly her quietness on the bend snapped in half and all of her emotions hit him like a brick he nearly fell out of the sky and into the ocean below when he luckily caught himself on a strong current. 

He could feel her shame, her drunkeness, he could feel that little ball of anxiety in her chest getting bigger and bigger with each passing second he felt like he was close to hyperventilating right along with her. Azriel had to take deep calming breaths doing everything he could to reach her and calm her down and it only made it worse his mind felt like it was burning and his heart was pumping too fast. He was starting to panic at the weight of her emotions, slowly starting to drift down. He couldn’t fucking think-

Hundreds of years of displine and training had him regaining control of the sitaution on his hand. He had to shut off the bond so he couldn’t feel her, avoiding another untimely fall as he did. Guilt ate away at him for doing so but something else spurred him to beat his wings faster. His mate was hurting and he needed to fix it now. The bond in his chest raged at the thought and the sudden adreneline boost made his siphons flare slightly with a new determination to get there as soon as possible.

——— 

Dinner went by in a rush and her entire family was sitting in around the fireplace passing around presents, soft music played from somewhere in the house but with like the rest of the noise it all buzzed faintly in the back of her head. She had slipped into this headspace so fast and now she was drowning it and she didn’t know what to do. 

A soft hand nudged her shoulder and she pulled her attention away from the window. Her High Lady was standing in front of her with a soft smile holding out a small box in her hands, wrapped up in gold with a red ribbon curling gracefully down the sides. The Inner Circle gave her a few worried glances before returning to their own conversations and Selena flushed with embarrassment at the realization Feyre had been trying to get her attention for awhile. 

“Sorry.” She breathed out, wanting to fold in an herself and disappear even further. The fae smiled gently. “Not a problem, it is quite beauitful out there.” Selena hummed in agreement silently thanking Feyre for saving her from any further embarrassment. “This is from Rhys and I.” 

She took the gift with a smile and thanked her High Lord and Lady who gave her answering grins in return, after delicately opening the expanse wrapping paper and revealed the book inside she couldn’t but feel a tang of sadness in her heart. She recognized the handwritting stamped on the leather cover. Selena quickly looked up at her friends to confirm and Feyre nodded. It was one of her mother’s medical journals, after her family’s violent death they had all been given out to muesuem’s or research groups that had needed the groundbreaking information inside. 

A tear slipped down her cheek as she thumbed the pages. Everything about it was so uniquely her. The messy handwriting, worn cover, the strong scent of her jasmine perfume still clinging to a few of the pages. “I found it in a musuem visiting Day and practically fought the curator for it. Thankfully Helion owed me a favor.” 

“Thank you…I-I have no words.” Selena breathed out and Feyre gave her another smile. “There are none needed.” 

Present’s were close to being done when the clock struck midnight. Rhys outdoing himself each year with spoiling his mate for her brithday, she was making a joke about need to add a whole wing to the house just so she had a place to put her increasingly extravagant gifts and Rhysand’s eye glinted with mischief at the thought. Soon the night wrapped up and Selena walked home, needing to feel the cold wind on her face as she processed her thoughts. 

Any other day she would’ve loved Feyre’s gift, but all it had done was twisted the swirling vortex of shame and grief in her heart. Her mind seemed to grow more weary with the weight pressing down on her. She missed her family, she missed the way her mom sung holiday song’s all year and how her brother’s always played with the colorful lights. 

She missed Azriel, and the thought hit her that she would always be missing him, it wasn’t long until he would eventually grow tired of her. She had ruined everything, needing a better escape from her thoughts Selena winnowed home. Grabbing the whiskey on the top shelf Cassian bought a few years ago as an anniversary gift and popped the bottle open, the hands moved on the clock extremely slow and also too fast, drink after drink was poured as her mood soured even more. She didn’t even notice when the door opened and that familiar scent of rain and cedar invaded her senses. Didn’t even notice the thrum of the bond humming in delight until her mate was kneeling in front of her with a soft smile on his face.

“Hi Baby.” 

Selena almost broke down in tears right then and there, every fiber in her body screaming at her to jump into his arms, tackle him to the floor and pepper his face with kisses. But her friends word’s rang in her ear like a dark bell echoing in her head tugging on that rotten piece inside her chest. She smiled at him, the sight and scent of him still soothing some of the jagged pieces of her heart. “Hi.” She breathed out softly. 

Azriel’s brow’s furrowed at her lack of reaction but he wasn’t surprised he could already make an educated guess of where his lovely mate’s head was at based on the echoed feelings in the bond and the shadows whispering information in his ear. He gently pried the whiskey from her grasp and kissed her forehead, her nose, and then her mouth. She sighed into the kiss and Azriel’s heart hummed in contentment as the bond slowly settled at finally being able to touch her after all this time. He lifted her off the couch and carried her to their shared bedroom. Placing her down gently on the bed and settled next to her. Usually Selena would automatically curl into his side laying her head against his muscled chest and entertwine their hands pressing a kiss to each of his scarred fingers. But instead she curled away from and Azriel seethed silently. 

He was usually an extrememly patient male, he had to be in his line of work but she didn’t jump into his arms when he came home, not even kissing him or saying she missed him and now she was pretending he didn’t exist in their marital bed. His patience snapped. He let out a dark growl, sitting himself against the headboard and pulled Selena onto his hips so fast she let out a gasp of surprise. 

The sound elicited something within him and his stomach churned with need. But first he needed to check on his gorgeous wife before even acknowledging the desire that had slowly been building up with their time apart. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong sweetheart or do I need to pry it out of you?” He whispered placing soft kisses on the side of her neck. Selena’s eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation, everything felt intensified after their distance. His hand’s massaging her inner thights, his lips slowly moving down to her shoulder, the shadows running along her spine. It was overwhelming and she wanted to lose herself in the feeling, in him. But the voices returned tenfold and snapped their jaws viciously clamping down on her heart and she jerked away from him and off the bed. Hurt briefly flashed across his expression but instead he let out a soft breath. 

“W-Why are you doing that.” Selena asked gasping for air. This was too all too much. You’re going to lose him, you’re going to lose him, you’re going to lose him, you’re going to-

“Selena..Baby…” Azriel said in the deceptively soft tone it skittered across her bones and her heat skipped a beat when he said her name. “You’re my mate can I not kiss you?” 

Azriel slid off the bed, walking over to her silently he was good at reading people, especially her. He had spent years figuring her out understanding how her mind worked and how her heart sang exactly for moment like these and he knew that she just needed to talk aloud or else those little voices trying to take his mate away wouldn’t go away. She just needed a little push and Azriel knew her body, knew which button’s to push to elicit certain reactions. “The faster you tell me what’s wrong the faster I can fix it sweetheart.”

“I don’t need you to fix it!” She snapped, her voice breaking. “I-I just-“ A shuddering cry escaping her throat as Azriel gently pushed the pieces of her hair back. His heart shattered at the sound, the bond hissing at her dispair and he wrapped his arms around her pulling her close as she cried her body shaking with the force of her sobs. “I don’t…want to lose you.” Selena said gasping for air in between her words. 

“You’re never going to lose me.”

She cried harder at that. “I lose everyone, it’s not long before-“

He pulled away grasping her face in his hands softly but firm, locking eyes with her so she could understand the gravity of his words. “Selena you’re not going to lose me whatever things you’re thinking it’s not true.” She let out a painful whimper, cries had subsided to small hiccups as she tried to regain control to speak. “I feel.. like-like you secretly hate me that I am too clingy and annoying and right now…I feel like you’re lying to me.” Her voice broke at the end and a pained sob escaped her lips as she finally admitted to what had beeing weighing on her heart and mind. 

Azriel felt like his heart had fucking shattered and turned to dust on the floor. 

He felt tears prick at his eyes as he realized how severe she had fallen into her trauma, she had turned away from him not able to face him as more sobs wracked her body. “Selena.” Azriel whispered his voice cracking. “Selena look at me. Please.” 

Selena’s heart broke ever further at the pain in Azriel’s voice and she slowly turned, he touched his forehead against hers and than pressing a soft kiss there as well. His hands rested on the side of her neck and the other one on his hip. “Selena I love you. I worship the ground you walk on. I would go fucking insane without you, not having you jump into my arms as soon I got home made me feel like the world was ending. I love it when you touch me, I love it when you whisper how much you love me right before I fall asleep, I love it when you come and find me while I’m working just to curl in my lap. I am so addicted to you it makes it hard to breath and If I didn’t have you I’d go mad. You’re the brightest light in this world, watching you shine is the greatest honor of my life. When you laugh my heart sings, and when you cry it breaks. I love you so much Selena. I am utterly consumed by you.” 

Azriel grabbed her hands and settled them over his heart. “Do you feel that? My heart only beats for you and nothing and no one else. Ensuring your happiness and health is something I take very seiously and great pride in.” He was pushing all his love and adoration through the bond it was overwhelming and Selena had no choice but to feel the truth in his words, it spread her entire body with this mind numbing warmth and she let out a watery laugh. More tears falling as she did so. Azriel brushed them away ever so softly with the pad of his thumbs. 

“I’m sor-“ He cut her off with a kiss. “Don’t.” He whispered quietly. “You have saved me from myself too many times to count dearest, it’s a privilege to even try do the same for you.”

“I love you.” Selena choked out, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him impossibly closer.

“I am your’s Selena, and you are mine.” Azriel said with finality. Selena whispered it back to him, trailing soft kisses up his neck and peppering his face with their soft lips. Azriel grinned, the dutiful shadow that had been with her that night had already told on her toxic friends, whom he’d never liked and believe it or not this isn’t the first time he comforted Selena after their misplaced words. They would be dealt with, Azriel growing tired of their bullshit affecting his love. 

But right now all he wanted was to hold her. He picked her up and she squealed happily, wrapping her legs around him as Azriel walked them back to the bed. He was leaning above her his hands still gripping her hips tightly as he pressed his lips to hers. “Do you believe me when I say that I love you?” Azriel asked, pushing his love through the bond once again and Selena nodded. Azriel smiled, “Good because you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” 

Selena laughed and a moment of silence passed between them as Azriel started pressing more kisses to the inside of her wrists, then her fingertips, than her forehead, her nose and finally her mouth. 

“Thank you.” Selena breathed out in the peaceful moment they had created. Azriel just hummed and pressed his lips to hers again absolutely determined to make her feel good, needing to chase away the darkness even further. His hand’s slipped under her skirt brushing against her inner thighs and Selena let herself reveal in his touch and in the all consuming warmth vibrating from his side of the bond with an intensity that thrummed under her skin. The doubt eddied from her mind and Selena sent every ounce of love right back to him as she finally pulled herself out of her dark thoughts. 

“Mine.” She whispered with a slight nibble on his lips and he growled lowly, returning the favor. “Mine.” He whispered back. 

divider by @cafekitsune

A/N: Holy shit guys I've been writing this fic FOR WEEKSSSS! I kept deleting and restarting and getting stuck halfway through, this isn't really where I wanted to go with it but omg here we are. I'm not 100% happy with it but thank fuck its done. I might rewrite a different version later but idk. Let me know what you think!

[loveln4]

Can I request like a max verstappen fic with jealous max with a happy ending ? Just really whatever you feel like , thank you so much and I recently found your account and absolutely loved your works, stay safe 🤍

Thank you!!

Stay safe as well 🩷

as requested:

JEALOUS MUCH?

MAX VERSTAPPEN x CHILDHOOD FRIEND!READER

synopsis: Max is surprised by his childhood friend in Abu Dhabi. The last time they were together wasn’t ideal, has times changed?

WARNINGS: sexual tension, body kissing, teasing, licking…, head(female receiving), orgasm, fingering, vulgar language, jealousy durhhhh, piv sex, safe sex, fluff ayeee

Max had crossed the finish line, concluding the 2023 season. Cheers erupted from the grandstands and the garage, but this was all inevitable.

Everyone had known that he was going to win the race, hell everyone knew he was going to be the world champion.

He jumped off his car, cheering as if this wasn’t his nineteenth win this year. Heading toward his team he noticed someone out of place.

Taking off his helmet as he approached, looking down at her, “What are you doing here?” He was breathless. Why? It could be the race…or even because of the tragically beautiful sight in front of him.

His team patting him on the back, saying their congratulations but his eyes were locked onto her. The last time they had seen each other in person, things didn’t go down the way they would’ve liked.

“I’m here to see you.” She yelled over the cheers, “Congrats, Max.” She looked devilish in the night light, forbidden thoughts rushing to his head.

“I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?” He looks back, seeing it’s time for him to get interviewed, “Meet me in my drivers room.” Before he could walk off someone had grabbed his arm.

Christian Horner was stood beside her, his hand stopping Max from walking away, “You treat this girl with a nice dinner, no clubbing until later.” He whispered into Max’s ear cautiously, “Too much cameras, you need to keep whatever this is professional until we talk to PR.”

“Yeah, yeah.” This caution made Max roll his eyes. Y/n and him were just friends, but the night they shared 6 months ago begged to differ.

“Max…” She moaned as he kissed her body gently, “Please.” Y/n whined as he started to strip her dress off her body.

He silenced her with a kiss, tasting the faint alcohol that she drank at dinner, “Be patient.” Max whispered against her lips.

Max went down toward her abdomen, leaving kisses and teasing her, licking up from her stomach to her chest.

Y/n’s legs clamped shut hoping for friction. Max laughed against her skin, entertained by the pain he’s causing her.

The door clicked shut behind him as he entered his drivers room. It was small, only housing a small couch, a fridge, a table and a tv mounted on the wall.

“Hey.” He greeted his friend who helped herself to a redbull from the mini fridge.

“Hi.” She took a sip, offering the can to Max, he takes it. “So, world champion…what’s the plan for tonight?”

This made him close his eyes, imagining her bare body on his bed just a few months ago. “Uh, dinner?” He asks her.

Nodding with a smile, “I was thinking a club? But if you want to have dinner first— I mean you’re probably starving, right?” Y/n stands and grabs her bag, “I’ll wait for you outside by the exit, take your time, you know? Talk to your engineer or whatever.”

She closed the door behind her, her mind reeling. His scent addictive and musky, reminding her of the night everything changed.

Her gasps were short and shallow, making Max hard through his trousers. He kissed and nipped at her core, causing her to shudder with every flick of his tongue.

She had tasted so good on his tongue that when she eventually had come undone, with a whine, he didn’t slow. Max held her down as she tried to escape from his mouth, “Max!” She cried in pleasure, this pleasure slowly turned into overstimulation as he stuck two fingers in her causing her to groan and gasp trying to push his head away, though he was to strong for her to do anything about the great amount of pleasure he was giving her.

After the second orgasm he stopped pumping his fingers into her and removed his mouth from her clit, though the flicking of his tongue was replaced with slow, painful circles endured by his thumb.

“You taste so good.” He whispered as he laid his head upon her stomach that was moving rather quickly as she tried to steady her breathing.

When Max was finally ready to celebrate his win and leave the track he found Y/n talking to another driver by the exit.

Y/n had laughed and grabbed Charles’ forearm . This filled Max with jealousy.

“Charles.” He coldly said, “Going out tonight?” He questioned him.

“Uh—planning to.” He replied, his smile faltering.

Y/n was no fool and could tell how the air shifted between them three, “Max should we go?” She asks, placing her hand on his bicep, “It was nice seeing you again, Charles.”

Charles bid them farewell as they now find themselves walking to Max’s car. Upon entering, Y/n could tell he wasn’t happy and the way Max slammed his car door just confirmed her suspicion.

“Don’t start slamming shit.” She warned as she buckled her seatbelt.

“The fuck, you telling me to do with my car?” He bit back as he did the same, buckling his seatbelt and turning the car on, the engine revving loudly.

Y/n had unbuckled her seatbelt and started collecting her bag from the bottom of the passenger seat, “Fuck you.” She said as she opened the car door but max didn’t allow her to exit as he reached over her and slammed the door shut keeping her inside.

“Look, i don’t want you talking to him when I’m not around.” He said as he started to slowly reverse out of his parking spot, “Put your seatbelt on.”

She listened to him and put the belt around herself, “Okay, dickhead. Charles and I were just catching up from the last time we saw each other.”

“You guys used to date.”

“Yeah, back when we were sixteen.” She huffed and crossed her arms, “Aww, little Maxie is jealous.” She stifled her laugh as she turned her head away from his face.

This remark caused Max to gain speed as he drove on the highway, “Don’t put me in a bad mood.” He warns.

“What’re you gonna do? Fuck my brains out again?”

This left them in silence for the rest of the car ride until Max parked the car and turned off the engine. “I thought we were gonna leave that in the past.” He turned to her.

“Kind of hard to so when you look at me like that.” She whispered to him.

Max looked up at y/n as she sat on his lap. Pure love and lust blinding each other.

His hard had filled her completely, earning soft moans and grunts from Max every time she moved her hips just a little bit.

“Y/n.” He whimpered her name as she started to move her hips up and down. His hands finding her soft skin, rough hands fitting perfectly. Max’s breath shuddered when she went a little faster, bringing herself down on him harder each time. He rested his head on her breasts, groaning as his cum emptied out of his tip, the condom collecting it.

They had laid on the bed together, tangled limbs keeping each other warm.

What they didn’t know is that the next day their whole relationship would change.

Max and Y/n had walked into the dimly lit restaurant together, earning looks from others eating dinner. Little kids waving at Max as they past by tables before getting seated in a small corner, tucked away from everyone else.

“Remember when we first came here?” Max questioned the girl who had been silent since exiting the car.

“No.” She lied as she flicked through the menu, “Why?” Y/n asked as she looked up at him through her lashes.

He nodded, clenching his jaw. “We came here for your birthday.”

“Huh,” She says, boredom creeping in her tone, “I don’t remember that.”

A waiter comes and pours them wine, he takes their orders and leaves with a flirtatious smile toward y/n.

“Fucking hell.” Max whispers harshly as Y/n eyes the waiter up and down, “You could do better.”

“Probably, but if better means you— i think i’ll stick with the waiter.” Y/n takes a sip of her wine, “Wait, i do remember this place.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, this was the place where Charles and I fucked for the first time when we got back to the hotel.” Y/n smirked as she took another sip, “Great wine, no?”

“Let’s go.” Max demanded as he stood up from his seat and took out a couple of notes placing them on the table, “Get up, Y/n”

“You heard what Christian said.”

“Stop being fucking difficult, Y/n.” He walked off leaving y/n with no other choice but to follow him.

Once they got outside and far from the restaurant she finally yelled at him for his attitude, “You started this shit!” She turned him around as they got to the car, “I’m here to see you! To spend time with you, Max!” She sniffs as she wraps her arms around herself, “I wasn’t here to fight with you! I’m here to tell you that i love you.” She whispers as she finally hears what she’s saying.

This was bottled up in y/n for years. She had always pushed it down as Max got a new girlfriend or flirted with every other girl that had come his way, constantly pushing y/n away.

“Fuck it.” He carelessly said as he turned her around and pushed her against the car, claiming her lips with his. He was hungry for her, his hands gripping her body like he genuinely needed her to survive.

The kiss broke as they stared at each others eyes, a small smile working its way up to y/n’s mouth, “What?” Max laughs as he kisses her smiling lips, “Find this funny, huh?” He questions as he kisses her neck, “Get in the car.” Max whispers in her, eager to love her for the rest of the night.

God, hopefully for the rest of their lives.

A/N: rawr spicy…hope you liked it.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[digiflora]

🍥 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐘, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓, 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐘!

STARRING. ノ sunday

request. ノ anon: hello, i saw that your requests were open and i was wondering what sunday would be like in bed with a halovian!reader. would he tease her by touching or nipping at her wings??

word count. ノ 0.8k

contains. ノ SMUT! although tbh it's not too explicit, implied fem!reader, more foreplay-focused / suggestive. halovian!reader, wingplay? sunday cums in his pants like a loser😍, dry humping kinda

gia's notes. ノ good evening everynyan!! starting off kinktober 2024 with sunday smut. because it's good for the soul 🫶

⟡ i think that a soft!sunday as well as a teasing!sunday is one that i like the sound of the most

⟡ he's definitely got a more playful side to him

⟡ and since you're both halovians, of course he knows just how to get under your skin. wings. whatever.

⟡ he knows every little spot that will have you keening and moaning at the slightest touch

⟡ and he'd be a complete fool not to utilise them

⟡ in fact, it's his favourite type of foreplay

⟡ to rile you up gradually throughout the day brings him a certain type of joy

⟡ to pass off every touch as something innocent and unassuming as he watches you bite your lip and shuffle in place

⟡ that's a game that he will never tire of playing

⟡ the way he'll lean into you, just breaching your personal space but still not close enough to be too imposing

⟡ how he'll listen to you so earnestly, before reaching a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear

⟡ to let his gloved fingertips linger against your skin, before trailing a little lower and brushing against the softest, downiest feathers of your wings

⟡ revelling in the little shudder you can't help but let escape at his touch

⟡ fighting to keep his poker face straight as he withdraws, bidding you a good day

⟡ you both know it was nowhere near accidental

⟡ another encounter of a similar nature, where his fingers comb through your wings now, an act so intimate that you blush when he does it in public, makes your knees weak and your fingers dig into his wrist as you shoot him a warning look

⟡ he merely utters a "what's wrong, angel?"

⟡ delivered with a smile so saccharine that you almost believed it

⟡ oh yes, sunday loved this game

⟡ but what he loved even more was when you decided to play it too

⟡ coming up to him, engulfing him in a quick hug to disguise the sly stripe that you lick behind the shell of his ear, right where his most sensitive feathers lay

⟡ a hand that brushed the back of his neck, twisting into his feathers with one swift tug

⟡ as much as he got you hot and bothered, you had the very same effect upon him

⟡ so it's no surprise that once the two of you are safely behind closed doors, you can barely keep your hands off of each other

⟡ a full day of this little game that the two of you play had him practically pouncing upon you, planting a searing kiss upon your lips as deft fingers begin to undress you

⟡ you respond by deepening the kiss, letting your hands explore the expanse of his silky hair, before returning them to their rightful place buried in his wing-feathers just to hear the low moan that he had been stifling for all of these hours

⟡ he's made quick work of your clothing by now, the fabric now loosened and falling away to reveal your practically naked body to him

⟡ and his lips migrate to the side of your face, your neck, your shoulder, before finally his lips pepper your sensitive wings with butterfly kisses as you squirm, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter at his ministrations

⟡ and then you feel his teeth graze against your wings, a loud moan slipping past your lips at the sensation

⟡ and sunday merely chuckles against your skin, his nose affectionately bumping against your wings once more, not missing the way your hips twitch and grind down against the thigh that he had oh-so-conveniently slotted between your legs

⟡ because he had this all planned out

⟡ he knew your body like the back of his hand by now

⟡ and this part of the game was his favourite

⟡ seeing how quickly he could reduce you into a moaning mess, pathetically grinding against him in a search for any sort of friction to relieve your pent up frustration

⟡ that was the true prize to him

⟡ the thought of you practically being putty for him had him straining against the fabric of his boxers, deciding to indulge the both of you with a rut of his own hips against your core that had the both of you moaning once again

⟡ but what really makes sunday's eyes roll to the back of his head is the sensation of your fingers gripping his wings, enough to make his vision go white as he cums hard

⟡ because as much as he makes you fall apart, you always seem to be just that bit better than him at his very own game

➤ IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... wanna get drunk 'n nasty

(how the hsr men fuck)

➤ alternatively, you can find my hsr masterlist here!

[yaut-jaknowit]

Hii! Can i request some fluff with Woftik?

Stars Shine Through The Darkness

Pairing: Woftik (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 3066

Summary: In the north pole of Yautja Prime, lives only a select few clans, let alone yautjas that bare the below freezing temperatures. Though the land is pretty barren for anything green to grow, there are still sights to go explore. Including a cave. Only to find out you weren't alone in that cave.

Author Note: Okay... this isn't the most fluffiest thing for Woftik buttttt my hand started to write and I went along with it. Hope you enjoy!

Masterlist

Ao3

Wind howled over the mouth of the cave. The day’s weather suddenly turning for the worst. A scowl etched into your features at the notion that the plans for exploration was bested by Yautja Prime. The thick fur scarf covered the majority of your expression from the broad figure.

A downward cast of his near black eyes caught your gaze. The white Yautja was dressed properly for this and made a noise of mirth. He bent at the waist and gingerly bonked his forehead to yours. The brim of your fur-lined hoodie prevented any pain.

“Worry not, my mate. This slight will not prevent our travel into the caves bowels,” Woftik promised with a soft purr. “You wished to explore and we shall.” Your scowl washed away by your excitement once more. A new twinkle in your shining eyes. His gloved hand cupped your covered cheeks. The bare tip of his thumb swept across the hint of your cheekbone. A shudder racked your body at the biting cold that nipped from his frozen finger tips.

“We can still go? The twin don’t be an issue?” You had no clue how the cave may react to such weather as the battering winds that wanted to steal you from the ground. It always happened after a terrible storm. Like the terrible after taste of Tequilla that burns the back of your throat. Horrible and ungodly.

Woftik shook his head. His own hoodie protected the majority of his features from the biting wind. His short tresses tucked away safely. “Once we pass through the first chamber, the wind is diverted down a different, much smaller entrance.” The cave had been formed to wield any strong gusts out of its bowels. “Plus, I promised you this, little one. Since the Great Hunt will start in two days time, I wish to fulfill my promise first.”

You couldn’t help the shudder that ran a course down your spine.

The Great Hunt. Where at least one life always falls to join the eternal hunt beneath the surface of Yautja Prime. And that one Yautja could be your mate not returning home. Where his body shall be burned and returned the hunting lands he grew up on.

This was Woftik. Chief of a clan many don’t expect to survive in conditions such as these. He would always prevail.

His gloved hand fell away from your cheek. Instead of dwelling of the dangers in two days, you smiled and forced it to reach your eyes. “Then, what are we waiting for? The wind to force our hand into the caves?” you teased him then gripped his hand. It only took, at best, a minute tug to get him to follow you into the dark depth of the cave.

Then, Woftik helped guide you through the first section of the cave.

This cave wasn’t as traversed as other but it was well documented. Every last corner that a Yaujta could had been explored. It wasn’t all that special as any other cave went. Yet, it was something different compared to the barren, white, snowy lands of Woftik’s tribe resides in. So, you, of course, begged your mate to take you to one. Just to explore, to see something new and get you out of the hut.

Of course, Woftik couldn’t say no to you. Not when you pushed out your bottom lip and gave a sweet doe look. And that’s how you ended up here, wrapped up and swaddled in the necessary clothing.

Snow and ice quickly gave way to sone and rock. The studs on the bottom of your boots bit into the uneven pathway. You were thankful that they had been gifted to you. Or else, the first step into here would’ve landed you on your ass.

Despite the snow outside intensifying the sun’s light, with one curse, the cave instantly grew dark. The temperature was noticeably even colder the first twenty steps inside. You clutched to Woftik’s hand and ensured the tips of his fingers didn’t freeze off. The male squeezed your hand back.

Once the light had grown to sparse for you to see, Woftik pulled out a flashlight. Bright, white light instantly filled the cave, showing off your path to a chamber. You licked at your dry, cracking lips and peek around the fur-lined brim of your hoodie at Woftik. He feels your gaze on him immediately and turns his attention to you. A brow raised.

“I was wondering… who all was coming to the hunt?” you asked him, feeling nervous to be talking about it at all. Was it going to be one you knew? Someone close who’s body they’ll burn and spread the ashes across the lands they grew up in? Yet not knowing is worse than knowing in your opinion. Because you can at least accept the gut punch afterwards.

Woftik grunted and card his fingers between yours the best they could do to the size difference and the gloves. “The new group of blooded shall be joining. Eager for the hunt, they are.” The rocks and some ice crunch under your boots. Then, he began to list off about seven names. Three of which you would consider yourself close with. You winced.

Though, it was more likely the younger ones were the ones to perish. Less experience. In this field, experience outweighs everything.

It was an experience that you’ve only been around three times to know about. The only plus you saw about it was the meat, fur, and bones. Massive bones they used to make their huts. No trees could grow up in such a harsh land. Bones was the next best option.

Every year, you beg for him not to leave you. No one else was sworn to ensure your life to live and safety to continue. A new chief would be appointed only minutes after his death. They wouldn’t be bound to you in the same manner you are to Woftik. You feared the cage some may return you to.

Lost in your thoughts, the tug on your hand had you snapping back to reality. You stumbled back and glanced up at Woftik, ready to ask what’s the problem. Only to shut your mouth quick. The determination and focus in his face had you tensing up. You followed his gaze and blinked a few times at what blocked your path.

A tiny softball sized… spider? Some sort of insect-like adorn in white and blue. It stood in the middle of the cave’s pathway. Black eyes stared directly at the two of you. You shuddered at the sight and inched closer to Woftik who hadn’t move a muscles. Was he, too, terrified of spiders as well?

“Run,” he growled lowly and released your hand to draw a simple hunting knife. What? Like the idiot you are, you stood there, eyes darting between the spiderling and the side of Woftik’s face. “Run!” The order and demand to obey in his voice laid thickly over you. You finally find it in you to spin on your heel, ready to bolt to the entrance only to gasp.

“Woftik,” you said his name in warning and took a couple of steps back. Said white Yautja glances over his shoulder. Hundreds of these spiders covered the cave walls.

“C’jit,” he grumbled then scooped an arm around your waist. Swiftly, Woftik tosses you onto his shoulder and bolts further into the cave. A scream leaves your mouth as all the these spider-like creature give chase, screeching. The sound pierce the cold, frigid air. All you could do was clutch onto Woftik as he ran for the sake of your lives.

The deeper he went, the more hope you lost of ever returning to the surface. His bulky frame easily carried him and you into the dark tunnel. The spiderlings barely kept up. They scrambled over each other in hopes of sinking their fangs into either of you.

“We’re going the wrong way!” you screamed at Woftik. A yelp escaped your lips when one was able to leap for far too close for comfort. You scrambled to lean away, anything to make sure it didn’t land on you.

A deep growl came from Woftik who tightened the arm pinning your legs to his chest. “They were blocking our route, if you happened not to notice, little mate.” At any other moment, you would’ve smacked him. “There are other routes out of here.”

Okay, that did increase your chances of survival.

The flash light was grasped in the hand that held your legs and pointed at the ceiling. It offered enough light to see the horde chasing you two. You screamed as a white blur leapt once more and landed on your shoulder. It’s horrible legs gripped sharp barbs into the thick fabric of your jacket, ripping it. The thing was quick to start tearing at your clothing. You wildly beat at it.

“Oh my god! Get off of me,” you screeched and scrambled in Woftik’s grasp to free yourself of the horrible thing.

“Stop flailing,” Woftik barked then reached up, blindly feeling for the creature. It noticed the movement. Instantly it’s small form leapt to his hand and sunk its fangs into the thinner material of his gloves. Woftik smashes it against the wall while running.

Dark blue blood sprays out with its inners staining the rock and his gloves. He makes no worry about his own neon green blood joining the mess of his glove now. You unsteadily settled back down. Your body shaking despite his firm grasp on you.

All of his wild turns don’t discourage the insects. Worst of all, they only continue to creep closer. You’ve beat more off of him and yourself but more of them replace them.

When Woftik takes a rather sharp corner, the studs in his boots can’t prevent him from slipping. His entire left side slams into rock. Your head ricochet off of it. Pain blasts to life inside your head. A cry leaves your lips as you curled up over Woftik’s shoulder.

For a moment, you feel weightless then gravity chains you. Still in his arm, Woftik does his best to curl his body around you before slamming into something hard but it too gives way.

Bitter, gnawing cold consumes your whole body. Swallows you into its freezing depths. The involuntary gasp you makes fills your lungs with something other than air.

Panic.

Instinct drove you to fight. For survival.

Your limbs unfurled and clawed through the liquid you’ve ben plunged into. You open your eyes only to find nothing but more pain straight to your head. An ill attempt of a cry leaves your lips but it wasn’t a noise. Just forcing out the liquid out and taking in more.

Something hauls you in a random direction. A firm grasp on your forearm. The water you were submerged in was gone but that cold was still there. It nearly drowned out the pain in your head. But you still couldn’t see despite knowing your eyes were opened.

Liquid and bile surged past your lips. Hands helped you to lean on your side. More came, wracking your body with cough and spews until you were dry-heaving, trembling like a leaf in a storm.

Same hands began to peel off the drenched, useless clothing that stuck to your form like a glove. Your shaking didn’t go down, not even after you were able to comprehend what was happening. What scared you the most was you still couldn’t see and the terrible pain pounding in your head.

The touch you recognized.

“Woftik?” you croaked out and reached blindly through the inky black for something, anything.

“I’m here. I’m here,” his familiar voice soothed over you. You tried to relax your muscles but the cold has locked them in a steel hold. “I’m going to move. But I will not leave.” A promise that you used to warm up your heart from the cold that grips it. You sense him move away from your trembling body. Your teeth clattering so much that you feared one may break.

There was a rustling a few feet from you until Woftik’s hands were hauling you up against him. His usually blazing hot scales were only mildly warmer than you skin. But to you, it felt like fire. A fire you were desperate to have. You curled up the best you could to him as Woftik began to carry you away from wherever you’ll landed.

“The spiders!” you choked out, head whipping all around but there was no light to be offered.

“They cannot get us here. They fear the water,” he explained and drew away from what sounded like a river. The very one the two of you landed in and about died in.

“Cold,” is all you’ve had to say even though, the trembling of your body was also a obvious sign as well. Woftik’s arms tightened around as if he wants to bury you under his scales and give you his warmth.

“I know. I know.”

Wherever you’ve landed, Woftik can see perfectly. You can feel as you enter a tunnel of sorts. You rest your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. There was no point, you couldn’t see anything in the pitch blackness. His arms are wrapped around you tightly, squeezing you to his body. To give you any sort of warmth his bulky body could offer you. He carries you through another tunnel.

His body tenses up for a moment. You hummed and snuggled deeper into his scales. Only for a soft light to hit your eyelids. For a moment, you didn’t even realize it at first. Thinking it was the cold messing with you, causing you to hallucinate it. Another grumble left your lips then you blinked open your eyes.

Soft blue light shined from behind you. You peered behind your shoulder and gasped. The tunnel went a little deeper but opened up to another chamber. The entire ceiling was covered with something glowing. Bug? Maybe. Your whole body was shaking too much for you to see clearly. The tips of your fingers have long gone frozen like the ice that surrounds this place.

“Just hold on,” he whispered into your ear. That was all you could do. Your limbs frozen like a popsicle and clutching at him, praying he doesn’t drop you. Not that you believe he would.

Soon enough, you were being set down on the frozen floor of the cave. It took him prying your arms and legs off of him to make you let go. You instantly curled up on your side, arms hugging your knees. Your teeth chattering so loud, you feared they crack under the force. Woftik moved away from you. Panic shot through you at the sight of his white form walking away from you. But, you couldn’t stop the chattering of your teeth long enough to cry your mate’s name.

Woftik knelt down a few feet from you and skipped a pack from his shoulders. It was set down and opened to reveal dry items. Relief flooded your tense muscles, sending some licks of warmth into you. Clothing, food, misc. items were pulled from it. It wasn’t much but enough to give you an added hope for survival. He puts some flammable materials into a ball close to you. With a striker, sparks fly towards the pile. He feeds it some air and watches as it grows to a steady flame. Before you had a chance to even move towards the heat.

Your mate grabbed you and dropped you in his lap. His thick arms wrapped around you torso and pulled you pressed against his chest. You crossed your legs on top of his only to feel the heat from the fire licking at your skin. Instantly, you shoved your feet close to the fire. It’s warmth already licking at your skin, slowly unthawing your frozen toes and feet.

If you had more strength, you would’ve struggled against Woftik to throw yourself onto the flames. Said white Yautja kept you secure against his chest, caging you there in his grasp.

Soon enough, the feeling in your limbs started to come back. With a vengeance. A prickling feeling started at the tips of your fingers. You flexed the thawing limbs and whimpered at the pained feeling. Woftik carded his thick fingers between yours and squeezed to get the blood flowing.

“That’s it. Let me warm you up, he murmured into your ear. The fire worked it’s magic. You began to slow your shivering with each passing minute. Woftik would scoot closer and closer as each half how passed. You had stopped shaking at that point. Now, you had been left exhausted.

He laid down with the fire at his side and you laid upon his chest, still stealing what warmth he produced. His large arms wrapped around your torso. Your face buried into his neck, keeping your nose from freezing off.

Your name is softly called. “Look,” he whispered, voice rough with lack of effect. Blearily, you picked up your head and followed his gaze to the ceiling.

Stars. It almost looked like the night sky full of stars blinked high above you. They reflected in your gaze. You gasped softly and perked up higher to straddle higher with your hands on his chest.

“What… what are they?” Hopefully nothing else that wanted to eat you, too. Woftik let his hands slide to the tops of your thighs. His flesh has warmed a considerable amount as yours struggled to fight against the cold.

“Gems. They only need the smallest of light to shine that bright.” The fire was close to dying but its light fed the gems. “This wasn’t on the map though. We must be the first ones down here.” You smiled then shivered and laid back down on his chest.

You didn’t imagine today would end up here; in a cave in a new chamber no one has been before; with beautiful, shining gems above your head. “Hm, at least today wasn’t all that too bad,” you murmured half-mindful and closed your eyes. You couldn’t held the yawn that left your lips. Woftik turned his head and pressed his closed mandibles in a mock kiss.

“Sleep, little mate.” You couldn’t disagree with him and let yourself slip into a deep sleep.

[hedwig221b]

Hello! I've been haunting your blog for a while, consuming all of your fic recs because there's no such thing as too much when it comes to reading sterek fics. But I kinda have a fic request? Or at last I'm not the only one starved for this and that there's a secret trove of what I've been craving;

I don't thunk there's enough fanfic where Stiles being kidnapped and beaten by Gerand is made a huge deal. Just...the only *human* who isn't even part of the pack getting targeted and hurt, the entire time Stiles having to deal with it all ALONE.

So is there any fics that focus on Stiles recovery from Gerand? Tha k you for any recommendation you may give!

Hi! Hope you like these 💕

And You Say You're Alone by bi_leigh_bi

Between the kanima, the Argents, and Peter's untimely return from the dead, everything has fallen apart. Stiles and Derek try to put their lives back together once the crisis has passed. Stiles deals with the aftermath of being tortured, and the distance growing between he and Scott. Derek attempts to become a stronger alpha and keep his pack safe, and that includes Stiles.

Blindsided by AClosedFicIsNeverRead

Derek exhaled tremulously and tried to stay calm. He called several more times, growing steadily more frantic each time, before allowing the truth to settle in: Stiles’ phone was off. “No. No, no, no, please, no,” Derek whispered to himself, barely able to see the screen through his tearful eyes. What had he done? Had he been so blinded by rage that he dismissed Stiles' call for help? OR - Fuming over Scott's betrayal, the Alpha is out of his mind with anger. When he receives a call from Stiles in that incredibly inopportune moment, he does not even let the teen speak - just screams at him, blames him for everything, and hangs up. But then Erica and Boyd show up, frantically insisting that Stiles is out there somewhere, likely hanging onto life by a thread after being tortured for hours… Will they be able to find Stiles before it's too late? And just how much of the Stiles they know will be left if they do manage to track him down?

What It Takes To Not Be Broken by Whispering_Merely

He's pretty sure Death is nipping at his heels at this point. But he has to stay awake, has to keep Gerard away from Erica and Boyd, the two Betas still tied up with mountain ash and electricity on the other side of the room, and it looks like they're trying to scream through their duct-tape, still, but he can't hear it, not anymore. The terrible, all-consuming, staticky silence had over taken him after about the third time Gerard's lackey- Ben, he thinks his name was- had stuck a military grade taser to his ear, a low enough voltage not to cause brain damage, he'd said, because the point of this was for him to talk. [Or: The one where Stiles is kidnapped and tortured by Gerard, and his injuries lead to a complete loss of hearing, among other things.]

In Your Hands by StarShineForMe

Spit forms at the corners of Gerard’s mouth as he dips his head towards Stiles, the tendons in his neck standing out in anger. “You’d do well to end this now, boy. Give…me…the…Alpha!” Gerard glares at him with crazed eyes, glittering with rage. Stiles purses his lips to hold in a sob, then takes a long, shuddering breath. “No,” he says, quiet but resolute. “I don’t care what you do to me. I’m never gonna give you Derek Hale.” *Stiles' kidnapping and the aftermath- full of puppy Isaac, slow burn to explicit in love Sterek, and the makings of a ragtag pack family as they go

It's all part of the master plan - Sterek version by Littleredridinghunter

Stiles is taken to the Argent's basement. When he comes out he knows his life will never be the same again. The extent at which that night changes his life becomes glaringly obvious as time goes on. Can the pack help him heal? Or will they fail to be there for him when he needs them the most?

The Sourwolf's Missing Human by CottageFroggg

"What the hell?” Issac mumbles, completely turning his attention away from Erica and to the obnoxious blue jeep sitting on the side of the back road leading into the preserve. Derek pulls the Camaro over and steps out quickly, his brows knit together in confusion when he doesn’t hear the teen’s heart beat. - Stiles is missing and Derek knows that the Argents are behind it, and he will not let them get away with it.

Spark a match and watch the world BURN by pixieblade

Sometimes all it takes is a single moment of bravery, or stupidity, to change everything. Derek Hale should know. Because Stiles Stilinski - spastic, abrasive, blindingly loyal, asshole Stiles Stilinski - has both of those characteristics in spades. He just wished, for the world's (and maybe his heart's sake), that the stupid kid would try and limit the amount of damage done every once in a while. But then, he wouldn't be Stiles, would he? He wouldn't be the man he loved.

Betrayal by Littleredridinghunter

Gerard does something despicable and the pack are left shattered after Stiles is killed…. or is he?? Set at the end of season 2 because honestly I have a fascination with that episode! Canon compliant up until then but then everything goes a little crazy! Do not read if you don't like Hurt or kidnapped Stiles because there is a lot of it….

[masterlist link]

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Stay Still | B. Durran |

Bodhi Durran x fwb!fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: NSFW, SMUT, MDNI, swearing, p in v, (unprotected sex pls pls be safe), cockwarming, not proofread well, switch!Bodhi, possessive!Bodhi, bratty!reader, poorly written smut, smut with little plot

A/n: hehhe this came out of my ass idk what got into me during my reading bonanza last night 🤭. I just felt truly inspired to try to write a full smut. This is my first official smut I’ve wrote so I would love feedback to improve on it if you have it, but I hope you find this as fun as I did!!

You sighed boredly laying on Bodhi’s bed, stomach pressed against the plush mattress, idly looking over a book about runes you tried to occupy your thoughts with. It had been thirty minutes since you arrived at the Section Leader’s door looking for some company in nothing but your black dressing robe and matching tiny nightgown underneath. Anticipating when he opened his door, he’d haughtily pull you into his quarters and ravish you like a man starved…but no. He merely gave you a once over before letting you in, and sat back at his desk doing his research on wards for Xaden.

You wanted to help as much as he did with resurrecting the wardstones for your friends, but now it had impeded on yours and his arrangement. It’s been two weeks since you last found yourself in the embrace of the man you craved, and you were desperate for the attention you lacked. It had become an unspoken routine you two had secretly engaged in since after Threshing last year. Only using each other other than for just distractions from the trials of surviving the Rider’s Quadrant at night, while during the day you were just squad mates.

You could feel another wave of heat go through your core at the thought of the secret that the two of you shared. You had been fighting the wanton desire since the last time you had found each other. Not that you weren’t satisfied by Bodhi, but you never stopped wanting him it had become glaringly obvious for you. You had even resorted to giving into flirty banter with Ridoc in front of him to get the Flame Section Leader’s acknowledgment, left with not even a sarcastic remark or scolding look on his part. Since Violet returned from Samara, there was a dire urgency to find answers on the wardstone.

But today was exemplarily tougher to push that ache down. After a rather intensive Flame Section sparring session after classes, you had been forced to watch Bodhi spar without drooling. His shirt discarded halfway through the session when he was challenged by Sawyer, the sweat glistening off his chiseled muscles. As if he knew the effect he had on you. The relic that swirled over his bulky biceps and veiny forearms and his dragon relic that loitered on the back of his left sharp shoulder blade down to the side of his refined torso. You had to take an extra cold shower once all the girls left the locker room to calm the burning desire that consumed you which proved to be no help.

You got off the bed, and made your way to him feeling impatient as your core throbbed once more. His back was towards you, displaying his relics that you admired and worshiped in the solace of the night. Your arms wrapping around his chest from behind, your nails lightly scratching his broad bare chest.

“Boh,” you whined, nipping at his earlobe. “Are you done yet?” You asked, a simper to your tone. The arousal in between your legs getting too heavy to bare, and clenching your thighs was no longer an option to fight the want for him. You wanted him now. No—you needed him, and you weren’t going to deprive yourself another minute.

“I don’t have much longer until I finish this section.” He murmured. He screwed his eyes shut trying to focus on the text in front of him, tilting his neck out of instinct to the side letting your lips press needy kisses down to his shoulder.

He had known when he saw you at your door in your skimpiest night clothes what you wanted. Finally making a move in the unintentional stalemate between the both of you. It didn’t fall on to blind eyes the way you went out of your way to be bratty throughout the last two weeks, attempting to get a rise out of him. It almost worked, but never being a jealous man, and clever enough to see right through you. The flirty comments to Ridoc, the way he could feel your alluring eyes burn holes into him during any time he was in the vicinity of you. He almost felt guilty leaving you hanging and to resort to blatant facades of making him jealous, a silent plea to just take you already.

He wanted to do nothing, but to fuck you and remind you who you belonged to.

You looked enticing, and every primal thought that flooded his mind he pushed down to the back of his mind when you appeared in front of his door. The churam he smoked an hour ago doing nothing to stop his chest from hammering, and the blood rushing to his manhood, twitching, at the sight of you. He had to use every ounce of his self discipline to keep his composure in check, letting you in without pouncing, devouring you like he wanted. Xaden would arrive back in Basgiath tomorrow expecting intel, and he hadn’t gotten very far in his research besides dead ends.

Your name got stuck in his throat barely sputtering it out as you sucked on the spot that you knew drove him wild, the conjunction of his neck and shoulder.

You weren’t exclusive with Bodhi, but you had learned everything about him that made him tick. From the littlest things like how his eyes lingered when your flight jacket was slightly undone bearing the slightest bit of cleavage in the low cut tank top you wore underneath—to what made him absolutely feral—the feeling of your lips with your teeth marking his sweet spot that would be barely concealed by the collar of his tight black training shirt the next day. Noting how he would wear the mark proudly like the patches on his jacket. Having a boyish grin when a squad mate would bring it up playing coy. No one knew they were left by you.

“I’ll help you after…” you purred, your hands traveling down his torso to the waistband of his night pants. Fingers nimbly tracing the barely grown out hair that led underneath the cotton. “I’ve been waiting weeks for you.” You pouted before peppering more kisses on his cheeks, feeling satisfied at the sharp intake of air he took at the movement.

You would get your way, there would be no other outcome of you showing up at his door tonight than to be ruined by Bodhi Durran.

“I’m expected to have something to report on tomorrow.” He protested weakly, savoring your mouth against jaw, but still keeping his eyes on the parchment.

His dissolve was close to crumbling, feeling the cold fingertips slip underneath his waistband. All he wanted to do was bend you over his desk, imagining your cheek pressed to the ancient texts laid out on the wooden surface as he railed into you from behind. His cock hardened more at the idea of him inside you.

“Xaden won’t-” you were cut off by the scrape of the wooden chair against the stone floor making you stumble backwards slightly. Bodhi abruptly slid his bottoms down, revealing half hardened manhood, sitting back down in the chair.

“C’mere,” he growled. His tone had a dangerous lilt to it, only making the wetness that had pooled in your panties grow more. His usual warm brown eyes blown out filled with something more than lust.

Your throat ran dry, obeying as you stepped in between his legs. He leaned his forehead against your stomach, inhaling steady breaths as if he could smell your arousal. His rough hands gripping your bare outer thighs before slipping under your nightgown, roughly kneading the soft flesh of your ass. Then he hooked his fingers around the fabric of your undergarments dragging them down your legs.

“You want me to fuck you, but have another man’s name leave your lips?” He gritted out through his, barely speaking above a whisper.

Bodhi knew he was overreacting, but when his cousin’s name came out of your mouth, his primal instincts came bubbling to the surface. A feral fire fueling him, no longer to be tamed. How dare you bring up Xaden, when you came here solely looking for relief from him after acting the way you’ve been.

You were taken aback by the words, leaving you stammering. “I-I’m sorry, Boh..”

This was a new side to him, you’ve never seen before. A nervous pang made your heart skip a beat, though excited at the aggressiveness in his actions.

“You think I haven’t noticed what you’ve been doing the last two weeks?” He cupped the back of one of your thighs, bringing a leg over his. “Think you were being sly?” He questioned.

You shook your head furiously, forgetting how to speak momentarily.

He pinched the inside of your thigh, only adding to the fire that blazed in your core, a soft gasp leaving your slacked jaw. “Use your words, babygirl.”

“N-no,” the words airily released from your throat, a pink tint to your cheeks.

He smirked, a dry laugh escaping him. “That's what I thought.” He dragged your other leg over his so you were now straddling him, knees perched on the extra wide seat. “Since you want to be a brat, you can sit on my cock until I’m done here.” He held his member with one hand, pumping slowly. “You got it?”

You gulped, watching how it twitched ever slightly, and his shoulders relaxed as he held himself. Nodding eagerly, biting your lip, still looking between the both of you awaiting for him to be inside you.

His free hand wrapped around your hair, pulling it, forcing you to look in his eyes. “What did I say about your words?” He growled. A soft moan left your lips at the gesture. His darkened brown eyes wavered in hunger and pride at the reaction.

“Y-yes, please…” you begged, feeling him rub the tip against your slick folds.

“Good girl, so wet for me,” he groaned.

He slowly inserted himself at your entrance, his hand finding your hip to help lower yourself on to him until he bottomed out inside you. His thick member stretching you out in a blissful sting that he could make you feel. You both sighed at the feeling, and you rested your head in the crook of his neck holding on to him with a near death grip.

You could feel yourself throb as he went back to working. His hands lightly brushing your sides every time he flipped a page or went to jot a note down in his notebook, causing jolts to go down your body. You tried to grind your hips to provide the teeniest bit of relief, Bodhi would only grip your thighs with a bruising force.

“Stay still,” he hissed, his head rolling back as he felt you clench around him again. A small smirk graced your lips, an idea coming to your mind.

One of your hands slid in between you, and found your clit. You moaned, as your fingers circled the sensitive nub.

“Y/n…” he warned, listening to the sweet noises you made in his ear, gripping the quill in his hand tightly. He had thought he had the upper hand in this, but as you touched yourself, his cock warming your insides, he felt the remaining bit of his dissolve crumble. “You’re such a fucking brat.” He held your hips, halting your movements.

“Do something about it then.” You challenged, pressing a chaste kiss to his full lips.

He thrusted up into you, sounds sweet as sin coming from your throats. A wicked smile twisted on to your face, finally. “I fully intend to.” He mumbled, pulling you into another kiss, this time longer and heated. You nipped at his lower lip, earning a hiss from him as you slipped your tongue into his mouth.

Drilling into you at a slow agonizing pace, your tongues fought for dominance, the kiss becoming broken up between strings of noises leaving the both of you. The slow burn pleasure painstakingly from the pace he had set. You tried to lower yourself up and down to go at a faster pace and to your dismay he slowed his movements more, squeezing your hips in caution.

You pulled away panting, “more.” You were a whimpering mess, frustrated to find your release. “Please, Bodhi.”

“Just because you get what you want doesn’t mean you still can’t be punished.” A lazy smirk etched on to his broad jaw. “I have to remind you who you belong to.”

He slowly thrusted up into you again, making you cry out. His face contorted to a look of pleasure as he provided deep slow strokes into you, the sight of him biting his now bruised lip heavenly.

“I’m yours, please.” You begged, nails biting into his shoulders. “Only yours.” You cried when he thrusted particularly harder when you said that.

“Y’ feel so good around me.” He drawled. “Like your pussy was made for me, sweetheart.” His words caused an effect on your whole body from your pussy clenching harder around him to your heart swelling from the praise.

The atmosphere felt entirely different from the usual casual hook ups from before. His forehead resting against yours, occasionally nuzzling your nose with his whispering lines of worship for you taking his time.

“Feels so good,” you panted, looping your fingers in his curls at the nape of his neck. You could feel yourself go dumb as his fingers found your clit, circling it with the same agonizing pace of his cock. You don’t know how much of this you could take. “Please, please, please let me ride you.”

“Do you deserve to ride me?” He taunted in between thrusts.

You nodded vigorously, “please let me make you feel good, Boh. Please.”

He stopped playing with your clit, bringing his fingers to your swollen lips. You sucked your juices off of them, tasting yourself as he leaned back in the chair.

“Mm, since you’ve been begging so nicely.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

The moans you released as you fucked yourself onto Bodhi’s cock were angelic. Letting you lower yourself up and down, watching as you got lost, getting drunk on his manhood. His hands had a firm grip on your waist, helping guide you down his length.

“That’s it, ride me like the good slut you are.” He watched your cunt sink onto him, swallowing his length whole.

You could start to feel the familiar coil of release start to come undone, and you knew you weren’t gonna last long. The sounds of your slick and his pants encouraging you to go faster.

Bodhi sensed the way you gripped him, you were going to climax, and met your rhythm bucking his hips upward. “You gonna come f’me?” He asked.

You could only mewl in response, the pleasure rendering you speechless as you rode him harder. Your vision blurred with stars, your body going rigid from the surge of tingling pleasure that electrified your body. The coil finally unraveling in your core as you orgasmed. You let out a throaty moan that was muffled by his lips, kissing passionately.

The tawny skinned man didn’t stop his movements, feeling his own release chasing yours. His aching cock twitched in need of relief. He muttered curses, his pace getting sloppier as he whimpered your name.

“Come for me, Boh.” You whispered softly. His arms wrapped tightly around your midsection, clinging to you like his life depended on it as he kept fucking you.

You felt the twitch, and his release shoot into you, a guttural groan following it. Feeling the mix of your arousals seeping out of you, his cock throbbing.

The heavy breathing from the both of you was the only noise in the room, you two staying in the position. You lightly scratched his scalp letting him regain his composure, his arms loosely holding you still. After a minute, he leaned away looking at you silently.

The intense gaze made you self conscious, clearing your throat as indication you were getting up. His arms only tightened around you once more, but he let his cock sink out of you, feeling your releases cover both of your thighs.

“I should get going,” you stated bluntly.

“Stay the night?” He reached over for the t-shirt that was crumpled on the floor beside his desk. Gingerly wiping you off first, being extremely gentle and careful to not be too abrasive with your sensitive parts, before he cleaned himself off.

You blinked in surprise, he never asked that before—let alone so nonchalant. You two never stayed too long in one another’s quarters after, let alone spend the night with one another. This would encroach the boundaries you mentally placed on this arrangement, ultimately entangling what you had already felt for the man in front of you.

“Aren’t you worried someone will see?” You asked warily.

He offered his usual boyish grin. “That’s kind of the point, sweetheart.”

Personally the pacing was weird for me to write, but I hope it gave you guys what you needed! The idea of fwb possessive Bodhi now has me in a chokehold lmao. Like I said, I am always open to improvements and feedback as this was a bit out of my comfort zone 🫶🏻🩷

[scribbledghost]

Safe and Sound

Pairing: inhuman!polyvessels x reader

Rating: T

Word count: 1,290

Summary: You spend a quiet winter day curled up in bed with the four vessels.

Notes: We're getting a ton of snow where I am right now and I just really wanted something soft and cozy so I wrote it. Tons of fluff (gets slightly suggestive in the middle but doesn't go anywhere), many kisses, and probably lethal amounts of cheese. I regret nothing.

The world outside the manor is quiet, a thick blanket of snow covering everything in sight. The sun has long since risen, but life has yet to return to the landscape.

Meanwhile, inside the sprawling place you call home, warmth and a gentle silence permeate the atmosphere.

There are many fireplaces scattered around the structure, and the fact they always seem to be well-kept despite little effort on anyone's part makes you think it may be the house itself keeping the blazes stoked and roaring. Of course, it may also be through some as-yet-undiscussed power of one of your housemates, but you have yet to ask properly.

The four demi-humans you live with have different needs than you do, but they have taken great care to ensure yours are always met. You aren't even sure if they can feel heat or cold, and yet your home is always the perfect temperature for you. Today is no different.

Of course, having all five of you curled up together in one massive bed certainly helps keep you warm.

It's not at all unusual for multiple people to end up in one bed. All of you have a habit of stumbling out of your rooms and towards another when the night becomes too dark and quiet. In fact, it's more common for at least two or three people to be in one bed than it is for all of you to sleep separately.

The perks of having four partners all connected by varying degrees of telepathic communication, you suppose.

"Are you comfortable, my heart?"

Vessel's dulcet tone cuts through the quiet, barely intelligible over III's snoring and the crackling of the fireplace across the room.

You turn your head slightly to nudge your nose against his, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"Yes I am. Are you?"

Vessel only hums softly in response, his six eyes softening as he meets your gaze.

The rest of the vessels are still asleep around you. II is at your side opposite of Vessel, one arm slung over your middle while his face is buried in your neck, his even breaths fanning across your skin. IV is curled into Vessel's back, quiet grumbles emanating from him as he shifts. III, meanwhile, is sprawled across all of you, his head on your chest and his limbs stretched.

"All of my boys here in the same place, warm and safe," you muse. "I always feel better when we're all together."

Vessel hums softly again, one of his hands coming to rest atop III's to absentmindedly play with his hair.

"I understand," he says. "There is a certain sense of security knowing your loved ones are all present."

Suddenly, a particularly loud snort from III breaks the tranquility, and he jolts awake.

"You okay?" you ask. III shifts, turning his head to give you a lopsided, tired grin.

"Hiya, love," he says, voice thick with sleep. Your head tilts up, III's nose nudging it upward so he can nibble at the skin just below your chin. His extended canine teeth sting just slightly, but none of his movements are firm enough to draw blood.

You know this move. And you know where it leads.

"Mm, easy, love. Too tired for that," you say gently.

However, being firm is difficult when Vessel is also alternating between kissing your temple and nipping at your earlobe.

"Don't have to do anything, beloved," Vessel all but croons. "Just lie back and let the four of us do the work."

"I think II and IV might have a problem with that, seeing as they're still asleep," you murmur.

"They'll live," III says, his tongue now laving against your throat.

"I'm serious, quit it!" you whisper loudly with a laugh. "I'm comfortable!"

The pair cease their assault, a soft chuckle emanating from them both. Quick kisses are places on your cheek and lips, with III nuzzling his head against your chest once again. You're sure it's only a matter of time before he's asleep once more.

"You three are too loud."

This time, it's II's low voice rumbling against you. You know the faux-grumpiness is purely in jest, but you indulge him anyway.

"I'm sorry, my dear," you say, tilting your head to rest your cheek against him.

"Someone kiss me and I may consider forgiveness," he teases.

Your lips land on his first, but they're quickly followed by III's.

"Surely we've earned mercy now, hm?" you tease. "Two kisses for II?"

"Don't push it."

You and III both laugh softly as II squeezes you tighter, readjusting himself as he buries his face in your neck.

You turn to see Vessel looking at the three of you, pure softness and affection in his eyes. The sight of IV's arm slung across Vessel's waist draws your attention.

"I'm surprised he hasn't woken up yet," you muse.

Vessel gives you a look that you can't read before he reaches for IV's hand, gently bringing the latter man's knuckles to his lips.

However, it appears IV was not as asleep as you had thought. Before Vessel can react, IV uses the hand at Vessel's lips to grab him by the jaw and turn his head. One more quick shift, and IV has him in an almost bruising kiss.

It leads nowhere, and is more an admonishment for waking IV than anything else, but you still watch as IV leaves Vessel with a slightly dazed look when he pulls away.

Despite being rough with Vessel, IV is nothing but gentle with you, reaching for your hand to bring it to his lips.

"Sleep well, dove?" he asks, his voice deep with disuse.

"Sure did, thanks for askin'," III replies, his voice muffled against your shirt.

"Wasn't talkin' to you," IV deadpans, reaching over to tug at one of III's ears.

"Should've - ow! - should've been more specific then," III teases.

After a bit more lighthearted bickering between the vessels, the atmosphere returns to a soft silence. However, all attention shifts to you when you shiver slightly.

"Are you cold, my heart?" Vessel asks.

"Just a little," you admit. You're not quite sure how the chill has managed to find you beneath the furs that adorn the massive bed and the warmth of the vessels around you (or, in III's case, sprawled atop you), but it has.

III makes a move to get up and stoke the fire, but Vessel stops him with a gentle hand.

It's not terribly often that you witness Vessel communing with the manor itself - the action tends to drain him - but it's always a marvel when you do.

A soft blue glow encompasses his eyes as his arm reaches towards the fireplace. A low hum sounds in your mind, like distantly muffled words. You wonder if the others hear something more distinct.

You can tell Vessel is straining, a slight tremble visible in his hand. Thankfully, the connection isn't terribly drawn-out, and with a whooshing sound, the fireplace roars brighter.

Vessel's eyes return to normal, and his arm and body sag back onto the mattress.

"Didn't have to do that," III mutters. "I would've gotten up."

"I know," Vessel reassures him, giving him a soft smile.

You don't need a telepathic mental connection to tell that Vessel is ready for rest once again. Reaching for him, you manage to rearrange him so his head is tucked against your shoulder.

"Rest," you command softly. He doesn't argue, and neither do the others. II curls back into your side, III is already softly snoring against your chest, and IV's breaths even out as he holds your hand.

You drift back to dreams nestled amongst the vessels, the harsh world outside the manor unable to disturb the peace found within.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Congrats on 1000! for your celly

“is this okay?” character a ask before going any further and character b simply nods their head. “use your words baby.” with Kess?

No smut but NSFW 18+ themes, inexperienced reader and Michael not wanting to rush things. All requests are closed until further notice as of 21st April 2025, while I work through the ones i've got at the moment. Writing Masterlist

You're in his room...God, he's managed to get this far with you somehow without fucking it up. Somehow he's managed to get you on a 6th date, somehow he managed to get that 6th date to go well enough that you agree to come back to his. Somehow you're in his room, nervous but here, sat on his bed. Trusting him not to be a weirdo.

You're nervous, Michael can see that, body shaking slightly, unsure what you're doing, what he's doing, but there's no expectations here...not really. He doesn't think you're going to have sex tonight, wouldn't dare, not until you're his girlfriend anyway. You're too good of a girl for that, too new to this, too sweet. He doesn't want to scare you off. But...God, he wants to kiss you, wants to lean over you and cover you with his body, feel the warmth of you. That's not a crime, right? That's normal for the 6th date...It's normal to want someone this much after 6 dates...totally normal.

He's careful as he sits next to you on the edge of the bed, not wanting to push you too far but unable to resist reaching for your hand. You let him, God...his hand is so much larger than yours, long fingers, veins across the back, knuckles still a little bruised from a fight on the ice a few days back.

Your shoulders relax a little at the way he holds your hand, enough that Michael's other hand finds your neck, soft, a gentle hold which has his thumb rubbing back and forth across the sensitive skin there.

"Can I kiss you?" Big brown eyes dip down to look at where you're biting your lip and your breath stops, held short by how much want is there, how desperate he seems to want to kiss you.

"...yes..." Your voice is small and breathy, barely able to say words from the anticipation of it all, but he hears. God, he hears it, so desperate for that one little word that it's barely out of your mouth before his own is swallowing it, slanted over yours hungrily.

He wants to kiss you slow and sweet, like you deserve, but he can't. He can't help but dig his hands into your hair, tugging you forward. He can't help that his teeth come out to nip at your bottom lip or that the moment you gasp his tongue is exploring your mouth. You're addictive, sweet and kind, willing to let him be goofy and kind of weird, and you're everything he wants.

Michael is pretty certain he could die happy like this, with your little whines against his lips, his hands deep in your hair, your hands clutching his shoulders for stability. He doesn't really think about it when he leans over you, easing you back onto the bed until he's leaning over you, hands on either side of your head. There's a moment where he panics, because he didn't mean to go too far, doesn't want you to freak out.

He pulls away from the kiss just enough to watch you, big brown eyes peering into your own as he mumbles close enough that you can feel his lips brushing yours as he speaks.

“Is this okay?” His voice is strained like it's painful for him to stop, to hold back and all it serves to do is cause you to let out a shaky breath, eyes heavy lidded as you nod at him, yeah it's okay, it's more than okay.

But, that's not enough for Michael, no. He can't just take that, he needs to hear it, needs to know 100% that you're okay with him crushing you into his bed, okay with him making out with you until he can't breathe.

“Use your words, baby.”

"It's okay..." Your words are shaky, nervous, unused to this. To having someone over you in this way, his body weight pressing down on you in a way that's oddly comforting, safe. You're not used to the kisses, the pet names, the affection and God, you know he's just a guy you're seeing, he's not even your boyfriend yet but you're filled with a deep intense want for him.

"Yeah? You sure?" Michael scans your face, eyes shifting back and forth like he's expecting to see a glimmer or a hint of doubt, even as he presses down harder on you, weight resting until you're pushed more firmly into the mattress. His arms folding, forearms resting besides your head as he lowers himself closer to you.

"Michael?" Your voice is a whisper, soft because it feels almost sacrilegious to speak too loud.

"Mmm?" He hums back at you as your arms wrap tighter around his neck, nails scratching the nape of his neck in a way that sends a shiver down his spine and you have him, oh you have him like he's a puppet on a string and you don't even realise it.

"Kiss me?"

"Yeah...yeah, I can...I can do that."

It's like you're tugging on his strings, no real thought or choice before he's pressing his mouth over yours, open and hungry. Your eyes flutter shut, hands twisting into his curls and tugging until he's shuddering over you, and pulling back, forehead pressed to your shoulder in an attempt to gain some composure.

He's rock hard in his jeans, painfully so because you're everything. Warm, sweet, mouth tasting slightly of peach chapstick and hips slotting over his so perfectly that you seem made for him.

"I don't want to rush you...you're making it really fucking hard though, baby...shit." It's the scratch of your nails across his scalp, the warmth between your thighs against him, the way you breathe out shaky and needy, it all makes this so much harder. God, since when was it so hard to just make out with a girl?

"I just want to kiss you..."

"I know, baby, but...fuck, you're killing me."

"Just...let's just cuddle for a bit, yeah?" He's falling off to the side of you before tugging you back against him and it's his hard on pressed into the small of your back that makes you understand, really understand. Because Michael's trying so hard not to rush you, trying so hard not to push you further than you're willing to go, no matter how much he wants you, no matter how hard it is.

As you curl into his arms it's a realisation that makes you feel so completely safe because Michael is putting your needs above his wants.

He's taking it slow and he'll take it slow for as long as you want.

[itsshawtyysworld]

The good ol' days

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Warning: 18+ (mature content such as oral, overstimulation, pet names, yearning, post squid games era)

Synopsis: Dae-ho can't get enough of your taste.

"Please, baby... just a little more."

Those were his words; the same words he had repeated just a little over an hour ago when he begged you to let him eat you out.

You were simply in your shared room and in your own little world as you laid on your belly on the bed naked after a shower. The day was bright, the sun high in the blue sky and your window was open, a warm and comforting breeze filling the air as you got even more engrossed into a new book you had recently gotten, a romantic novel, and recently you spent most of your free time reading it, too excited to read it right after you bought it.

You were so deep into the story, your eyes following each one of the words on the slightly beige page, you barely heard Dae-ho's footsteps and voice when he came back home but you sooner felt his presence behind you, causing you to place a marker on the page you were reading so that you wouldn't forget it before turning to him with a content smile.

"Hi, beautiful." Dae-ho's soft voice fills your ears as he greets you with a few pecks all over your face and neck. "Hello there. How was your run?" You ask him as you notice his slightly sweaty and disheveled appearance.

"It was good. Ran a few meters more than I did a couple days ago. What are you up to, reading again?" He pecks your lips twice more before glancing at the book that was now laid beside you.

"Yeah... I'm honestly loving this book, I think it's my new favorite-" You get interrupted by him before you could finish, with him pressing light kisses and nips to your neck, all the way to the skin of your collarbone. "Hey, that tickles." You say between giggles as you put your palms against his tank top, damp with sweat.

"I can't help it when you look like this. Did you shower?" He nuzzles his face against your neck, taking in your natural scent mixed with your pomegranate scented lotion.

"Hmm, I did." You whisper softly, your hands running up his shoulders and heading to the nape of his neck, playing with the loose strands of his dark hair.

"I could tell... you smell so good I could eat you up." You chuckle lightly upon hearing his words before you look at his face, his pupils dilating with desire and his plump lips parted as he looked down at you, his hot body above your naked one as he supported himself with his forearms. Goddamnit. The way he was looking at you was making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, the way his hair hung around his face, his tall and well built figure that always made you feel safe, both during and and after those traumatic games – the games you were partially glad you went to because otherwise you wouldn't have met him.

You always felt so lucky you had him in your life and your friends kept constantly telling you the same thing, considering your past terrible experiences with men and for that reason, you never expected for him to turn out to be the way he was – so kind and respectful, soft and humble, a beautiful man inside and out – but after a couple of years of being together, you realized you were indeed lucky.

"Baby?" Dae-ho's voice interrupted your train of thoughts and you hum lowly in response, focusing back on him. "You're so beautiful." His whispered words made you melt from the inside and you smile warmly at him, leaning up to press a passionate kiss on his lips and you feel him instantly melting into the feeling of soft lips on his, your arms wrapping around his neck and bringing him down, causing his body weight to almost suffocate you.

And God, if it didn't make you feel even hotter inside.

You could feel his growing bulge through his shorts as the kiss deepens, tongues meeting in each other's mouths, your fingers tangling themselves in his hair as his big hands roamed all over your exposed skin, caressing your waist, your hips, your thighs and coming back up. The kiss eventually breaks, both your breaths mingling in the shared space but Dae-ho's mouth doesn't leave your skin, kissing down your jawline, biting and sucking on your neck, heading down your sternum and stopping to gently suck on your hardening nipples and you push your chest more into his face, his lips enveloping your left nipple as he sucks.

You lay your head back against the pillow with a low moan and let yourself get lost on the feeling of his mouth, of his hands, of him. Your hands are still firmly but gently tangled in his hair as he continues to lick and suck on your nipple, letting go of it after a few more seconds and moving to the right one, repeating his actions.

He eventually continues his way down your body, kissing down your navel and making his way down until he gets to your pubic bone, stopping and planting his chin on it, looking up at you through lustful eyes, his hands still caressing all over your torso.

"You smell so good, baby... I want to taste you. Please, let me taste you." Jesus, this man wanted to kill you. You try not to buck your hips against his face at his words, even though you were starting to get wetter and wetter as seconds went by.

"Dae-ho..."

"Please, baby... I just want to taste you, I need it." You almost opened your legs like a starfish and let him go at it, your thighs barely twitching under his toned body but he noticed it. He noticed the same want, the same need in your eyes as you looked down at him just like he noticed your legs twitching to open yourself up to him.

A few seconds of silence go by before he suddenly sits up on his knees, taking a hold of the pits of your knees before speaking. "Can you turn around for me, love?" He asks as he makes a spinning gesture with his finger and you tilt your head a little, your eyes filled with confusion and desire but you just nod quietly and adjust your position to lay on your stomach again.

You bite your lower lip and try to control your breathing, crossing your arms and placing them below the pillow your head was laying on when Dae-ho's lips start kissing the back of your neck, making his way down your back, until he reaches your coccyx, his warm touch never leaving your skin as he grips your hips and ass cheeks, nipping and kissing the fat in the area.

You raise your head a little to glance at him from over your shoulder, watching the way his bangs fell against his eyes as he kissed you nonstop all over your skin before his eyes suddenly meet yours and you felt even more turned on upon seeing the hunger that filled his gaze.

He sits back up on his knees again, this time without saying a word and grips your hips firmly in his hands and propping them up, positioning you on all fours with your head down and your ass up in the air.

"So pretty..." You almost didn't hear his words due to aroused you were at the moment, your focus solely on how wet you were and on his touch and gaze on you. The whole scene was making you feel slightly exposed – exposed to the air, to his touch, to him – but it only made you feel hotter.

"Can I?" His words were low but you could hear them perfectly, making your back arch even more and for your ass to buck towards his face.

"Yes." That was all the confirmation Dae-ho needed as he caressed the meat connecting your cheeks and thighs, focusing on the way your pussy glistening with your arousal in the daylight and that's when he leans in to lick a strip up your vulva, starting from your clit and all the way to your hole and you immediately moan at the sensation, your eyes closing as your forehead hit your pillow.

That was a little over an hour ago.

You were still in the same position, like a feline stretching, the only difference being the current shaking of your thighs and the moaning and whimpering that kept leaving your lips. You felt like your head was swaying and your cunt was aching – for more or for less you couldn't tell – but Dae-ho's mouth never left it. He was too lost in you, too lost in your scent and taste and feeling of you on his tongue, that and the whines of pleasure were the only things that kept him going. Each stripe he licked, each time he sucked and slurped filled his taste bluds with you, his hands gripping all over your hips and ass before settling on the back of your upper thighs, his thumbs splayed close to your lips before he spreads your pussy open even more and covers it fully with his mouth, his lips then closing around your clit and sucking it in, giving a few kitten licks as he does so, and pulling at it as he leans away.

"Hmm... my sweet pretty girl... you always taste so good." He mumbles and presses a few light kisses around the area, not touching the place you needed the most to get you going, already knowing how desperate and needy you were as you kept moving your hips towards his face.

"D-Dae-ho... please..."

"Talk to me, pretty. What do you want?"

"I wanna cum... please let me cum." God, you didn't even know what your asking – begging – for at the moment but it was too good; so good. It was like you never wanted him to stop, desperately seeking that release that stuck inside your lower belly and then, almost like thelepathically, Dae-ho filled his mouth with your cunt again. He never once stops or slows down his actions, letting out a few content hums against your aching pussy, his tongue invading your pulsing hole and thrusting in and out as much as he could at the same time one of his thumbs moves to your puffy clit, circling it fast and lightly.

Your hands took a tight hold of your pillow, biting it and pressing your face against it when suddenly his smell filled your nostrils and that was when you realized it wasn't your pillow you had been holding on to this entire time – no, it was his.

Your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head as you took in his musky scent, one of your hands traveling backwards to grip his hair, pressing his face even more against your cunt as you moaned into the pillow. Wet, squelching sounds filled the already hot air as he thrusted his tongue inside you, stopping every once in a while to suck on your clit again and vice versa. He could feel his drool mixed with your arousal surrounding the corners of his mouth, same with the tip of his nose but he loved it.

"Oh, fuck... I'm... I'm close." You manage to say in between moans when you feel the heat growing in the pit of your belly and Dae-ho's pace never changes, alternating between flattening his tongue and licking your aching clit and stretching it out to thrust into your hole, adding one of his fingers or two every once in a while.

"Cum for me, precious, c'mon." His honeyed voice and encouraging tone was all you needed for that coil suddenly snap, your loud moans and whimpers slightly muffled by his pillow as your body trembles with pleasure, your hips involuntarily bucking against his face and your fingers still tangled in his locks but he continues to suck and lick your clit, sometimes even giving it little nips with his teeth as you rode out your fourth, perhaps fifth orgasm.

"Dae... Dae-ho..." You panted, almost like a prayer when he eventually pulls away, thinking he was finally going to stop.

"Please, baby, just one more, okay?" You mentally prepared yourself when those words left his sinful lips again, knowing he wasn't going to stop so soon.

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A/N: good god, I barely slept the past two days just so that I could at least get this one done but hopefully you guys will like it. I'm still writing that salesman fic but it's been on hold because my period isn't even here yet and it's already making me go through five stages of grief😃 anyways, recently I've watched Bloodhounds and Alice in borderland on Netflix and I've been thinking of writing for them in the future but I don't know if anyone would read it, what do you guys think?