#I feel he wouldn't care about his scars too much | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherryredstars · 23 days

Note

you know what season it is!!! back shots in a sundress with no panties!! i strongly request rich people private beach sex! boat sex! rich sugar daddy husband who is never really home but when he is he WRECKS your body!!

Pairing(s): Miguel O'Hara, Simon Riley, John Price x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Public Sex, SugarDaddy!Characters, Simon isn't gentle in this one (sorry!)

A/N: My favorite season!!!!

Unedited

| SIMON "GHOST" RILEY: CAKE BY THE OCEAN

He can't help himself when his pretty baby is all dolled up for him.

You got that cute little sundress he bought you on, letting out little giggles every time the wind picks up and you have to hold your dress down like the better version of Marilyn Monroe. He doesn't understand why you do it though. You're the one who begged him to take leave so the two of you can spend the warm weather at the beach house, wanting to spend time on the private beach. Plus, if you really cared about decency, you wouldn't have left without panties. He thinks you're adorable, clueless to the fact that you've flashed him a handful of times already.

But maybe that's part of some secret plan you've been plotting. especially when you pout at him and demand he let you rub sunscreen all over his body.

I just don't want your scars to get irritated, Si.

He thinks your a fucking liar. How else would that explain the way you so willingly sprawl out on the beach blanket you've brought along, your bare ass exposed to him as your dress is bunched around your waist. In the sun, he can see your dripping cunt glistening with arousal. He fucking loves the pretty gasps you let out when the wind fans over your folds, a tiny plea for him to stop his teasing following after. His poor, spoiled baby, so desperate to have a different kind of fun at the beach.

He doesn't care for the beating sun burning his back as his thick cock slides through your puffy folds, more focused on the way your insides are a thousand times hotter. The only thing he needs coating his skin is your sticky arousal as it drips around his cock, a foamy ring of white forming at his base as he thrusts into you. He hates sand, but he doesn't mind the way it gets on the blanket as you pull on it, crying and hiccuping at him how it's too much.

"Si! It's too hot, I'm getting all gross and sweaty!" You sob out, teary eyes looking back at him.

He coos at your cries, giving your ass a hard smack before rubbing the pain away. You could have just told him you needed something to help you cool down. He's more than happy to help as he licks over your skin, his saliva coating your neck and shoulder blades. You taste like the sun and sweat, and he knows that after his he'll need to eat out that pretty pussy of yours to see how they add to your addictive taste.

He must have spoiled you too much, rolling his eyes as you start complaining about how sticky your skin feels with his spit drying on you. He shuts you up with a few punishing thrusts, only tolerating your incoherently wobbly moans and cries. He grits his teeth when he feels his high peaking, swiftly pulling out of you with a groan as he hot seed shoots onto your back. It darkens the fabric of your dress, pearly lines sitting on your sparkling skin.

Simon chuckles as you whine under him, his rough hands rubbing his cum over your skin in a thin layer.

"Gotta make sure your pretty skin is nice and coated, love."

His cum looks close enough to sunscreen, anyways.

| MIGUEL O'HARA: HANDS ON THE WHEEL

"Keep 'er steady, baby."

You only moan back in reply, your hands tightening around the wheel. Your hands are sweating from the sun's heat and from the heat radiating off of Miguel's body as he thrusts into you. The sound of your wet cunt is drowned out by the sound of the ocean, but Miguel is more concerned about the ocean of wetness that gushes around his cock. Your grip on the wheel has nothing on the vice grip your pulsating walls have on his cock.

His large hands reach up, his chest pressing against your sweaty back as his hands cover yours. He guides your hands slightly to keep the wheel straight, his thrusts not stopping. He's trying to teach you how to steer the boat through groans, and you only moan and whine in response as your mind gets consumed by the way his cock drills into you. Miguel curses when your grip on the wheel slips, your body falling forward as your orgasm crashes into you and the wheel spins quickly out of control.

His hand instinctively clasps around your neck to keep you from hitting your head on the wheel, making your back arch as he pulls you close to him as his other hand works to fix the wheel. His cock slips out of you, the ends of your fluttery dress pushing over his angry tip. He grunts as he thrusts his cock into your back, groaning as he spurts hot strings of pearly white dampen the back of your dress. You babble as you come down, feeling the wet parts of your dress starting to cling to your skin.

"Didn't I tell you that ya'gotta be careful while at the wheel, mi vida?"

Well, whose fault is that.

| JOHN PRICE: PRETTY HOUSEWIFE

This by far is his favorite part of coming home.

He loves getting home after a rough deployment, only to find his pretty little wife waiting dutifully at home for him. You treat it like a special occasion, making his favorite meals in that cute little apron and sundress that has his cock throbbing. You're so good to him. It's only right that he shows his appreciation with a good fucking.

He doesn't care if his hot plate of food is getting cold as he bullies his cock into your needy hole. You're so tight from not being filled with his cock for so long, your fingers not stretching you out the way his fat cock can. Your little moans and cries of his name are the only nourishment he needs at the moment. His pretty little wife takes him so well.

"Looks so gorgeous f'me like this, doll." John grunts at you, chuckling at the way your walls flutter around him.

This is by far the greatest way to be welcomed home, and of course he's gotta give you the first of many gifts he's got you while he was away. He groans low and deep as he shoots the build-up of cum that's been sitting painfully in his balls, watching as it gushes around his cock as your pussy gets stuffed full. You look so pretty sitting across from him in that sundress, trying to keep as much cum as possible in your snug cunt as he finally digs into his home-cooked meal.

No way in hell he'd let his seed go to waste.

2K notes · View notes

amoreva · 4 months

Text

KISS THE GIRL

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: two times luke knows he’s in love with you + one time he can’t hold it in anymore

warnings: pre tlt luke, ooc luke

a/n: percy jackson 🔛🔝 (request some fics for the characters), i think i ended this terribly, but i’ll fix it later at some point!

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

I. SCAR

“You are an idiot.”

That’s the first thing Luke hears when he wakes up in the Camp’s infirmary. He feels groggy, sluggish and slow and barely registered that you were in the room.

He faintly tasted his mother’s cooking. A small comfort for the consequences of failing his quest. His heart is filled with embarrassment and pity and dejection.

You snapped your fingers by his ears. “I know you’re awake. You hear me? You are an idiot!”

“If you’re here to make fun of me failing my quest, go away.” Luke groaned and turned on his side, despite the pain flaring in his abdomen.

"Luke." You said in a much softer tone. You were concerned about his injuries since he returned from the quest. "You know I wouldn't do that, not with something this serious.”

You helped him sit up in the infirmary bed and cup his cheek. He felt a gauze patch rather then your warm palm on his right cheek. “I’m saying you’re an idiot for not letting me come with you!”

“You can’t do everything by yourself.”

Love is fickle and strange thing. Luke and you promised that if either of you went on a quest, you’d bring each other. Yet, Luke couldn’t keep his promise.

He couldn’t see his girl—best friend, his best friend get hurt because of a stupid promise. He wouldn’t forgive himself if you went out he quest and got injured in some way, shape or form.

Even if you hadn’t gotten hurt, he might’ve— he would’ve gotten worse injuries from being distracted by your beauty. He could never tear his eyes from you whenever you entered the room.

In hindsight, it was a really bad way to go about things.

“I’m fine, aren’t I?” Luke responded and couldn’t hold himself back. He interlaced his fingers with yours, knowing you were still pissed when he didn’t choose you or anyone, for that matter, to join him on his quest to retrieve a Golden Apple from the Garden of Hesperides.

He resented his father and the gods for not caring for his wellbeing during the quest.

“Yes, but—” You protested.

At least you cared for his wellbeing. You caring about him was better than any god or goddess on Olympus.

His eyes softened. His mind screaming the words he was too scared to say to you out loud. “I love you.” He loved you for caring about his wellbeing. His safety.

“Yes, but nothing.” Luke retaliated and squeezed your hand to assure you. “I’m okay, I’m alive and have some cool ass scars now.”

Luke grinned as he was able to produce a laugh from you. Your laugh was like music to his ears. His own ambrosia in human form.

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Never.”

II. SPARRING

“Again.” Luke demanded as he pointed the celestial bronze sword at your throat. The sun beating down on the two of you as you trained. A past time as the days got boring.

“Fuck off.” You scoffed and laid back in the grass that laid beneath the pair’s feet. The grass tickling your arms and legs.

“C’mon! Up and at it. The momentum will wear off.” Luke helplessly convinced you to try and spar him again.

“Oh no, what ever will we do?” Sarcasm bled through your tone. You pushed yourself to sit up and leaned against the rack contained to celestial bronze swords.

Luke shook his head and grinned. He pushed back his chocolate curls to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He joined you on the grassy floor.

“Five minute break then.” Luke nodded.

“Ten minutes.” You negotiated and looked over at Luke. His scar was healing nicely, no infections—just a clean cut from his eye to his jaw. “You can’t expect to be up and at it after training with the greatest swordsman for an hour straight.”

Maybe it was the heat or maybe it was from the training. Luke’s cheeks became pink. He knew his siblings and other demigods talked about him being the “greatest swordsman”, but hearing it from you was different.

“You think I’m the greatest swordsman?” Luke said with a teasing grin.

“Not after I’m done with you.”

“Say that to the many times you hit the floor.”

“I was going easy on you!”

Luke and you burst out in laughter at your banter, unable to keep a serious conversation. He thought your laughter could brighten up the Underworld. Hades would even agree.

Again, those three words would cross his mind. “I love you.” He loved bantering with you back and forth. How dare he try to ruin the moment with his romantic phrases.

“C’mon!” You huffed and pushed yourself to stand up. You were obliviously to the admiration in his eyes. The celestial bronze sword gripped loosely in your hand.

“What happened to the ten minutes?” Luke titled his head up only slightly to look at you. A stupid grin on his face. He stood up to get in position

“I can train when I damn want too.”

“Don’t start complaining about being tired then.”

He never tore his eyes away from yours as you thrusted the blade at his torso.

III. STARS

Luke had no idea where the line between lover and friendship was crossed. He had absolutely no idea when he started to see you more as a crush rather than his best friend.

Though he did notice his stomach started to twist and turn every time he saw you. He noticed his heart raced a little faster every time he heard your laugh.

Luke found himself gravitating towards you during dinner, training, capture the flag—like a moth to burning flame. Would he find himself getting burned for pursuing you?

“Hey.”

Luke spoke as the wooden dock creaked beneath his feet. You were sitting on the edge of the dock. The night sky lit up with tiny bright lights. You gave him a smile (one that could melt his heart) and patted the space next to you.

“You doing okay?” Luke asked and sat next to you. His leg touching yours. The lake rippled. The moonlight shining down on it.

“I just—needed a break.” You reassure Luke. “From gods, goddesses, prophecies, quests…all of it.”

The chirps and cheeps of the birds and animals filled the silence. A background noise. Luke felt your head lean against his shoulder. His heart beat quicker. He hesitantly wrapped his arm around your shoulder. Comfort, he convinced himself.

“You can’t really escape being a half-blood.” Luke consulted and rubbed his hand up and down your arm. You hummed in agreement.

You were quite glad Luke joined you. These nights on the dock, after dinner, were getting lonely. The silence is comfortable save for the wildlife in the forest.

Faintly, ever so faintly, you heard Luke speak three words. Three words you would never hear from him.

“I love you…”

Gods.

He didn’t even realize it. His lips were making the consonants and vowel sounds. Luke didn’t know until you picked up your head from his shoulder. Your eyes wide with shock and what he had hoped was…relief.

“What…?” You mumbled.

Did he just ruin his friendship with you? Did he just lose his best friend because he said his thoughts out loud? Luke thought he had better control over that.

“What?” He responded and let his arm fall from your shoulders.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.”

“Luke.”

His breath hitched. He felt lovesick. Like Aphrodite personally made his body malfunction during this moment. “I…”

“I love you…” Luke avoided your gaze like he was ashamed to have a crush on you.

How did you feel? Would you reject him in a heart beat? Would you ridicule him? Thoughts swam his mind.

Before he could get too into his head, he felt a soft pair of lips pressed against his. Your eyes closed and he willed himself to close his eyes as well. Melting, melting into your touch, your lips.

When you pulled away, his eyes opened. He was graced with the sight of you in the moonlight. “What?” He spoke breathlessly.

“What?” You responded slightly confused and scared you made the moment uncomfortable.

“You…” Luke paused and closed his mouth as he tried to formulate the words. To form a coherent thought. He just…he wanted that to never end. He finally got what he yearned for (and he wasn’t rejected?). He got you.

“Is this real?” Luke asked and you laughed. His stomach churned with butterflies.

“Yes!” You answered and interlaced your fingers with his.

“May I?”

“You’d be a pretty bad demigod if you didn’t.”

And once again, Luke got the kiss the girl. He got the kiss the girl he been pining over for gods know how long.

—– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —–

#luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x reader #pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fluff

2K notes · View notes

ghouljams · 1 month

Text

Thinking more fallout au thoughts.

Cw: branding, dub-con, mean Ghost

"Would you quit squirmin'." Ghost tells you, yanking your pants down over the curve of your ass. He's got you pinned over his lap, your arms held tight against your sides with no hope of escape. You squirm a little harder, give a valiant effort towards escape, and he swears. "Wouldn't have ta do this if ya quit wandering off."

Branding you, he means.

His words don't inspire confidence, and certainly don't stop you from trying to wiggle you way off his lap. Who cares if you've got your pants around your knees, anything is better than what Ghost has planned.

"This is crazy!" You tell him, "You're crazy!"

"And you're a thief," he responds easily, "won't hurt too bad, animals used ta get branded all the time and they never complained." You thrash. You don't appreciate name calling in a situation like this, but he could at least use words you know.

"Stay still." Ghost spanks you hard and you whimper, dropping your head at the sting. In your brief moment of stillness Ghost reaches over you and pulls a length of metal from the campfire. He holds you tight, keeps you from moving too much when you start to squirm again. He mutters something about you messing up his work, and you freeze when you feel the blistering heat near your skin, then pain.

You scream.

Ghost holds the brand to you for a few seconds before pulling it away. By then you can feel the burn in earnest. It feels hot, obviously, but far past what you thought heat could feel like. It's blistering, stinging, like a scratch that keeps digging deeper. Ghost uncaps his flask and spends it over your ass while you sob. It flashes new heat over your skin but it's cool. It helps a little, at least as long as it takes for his flask to run out of water. You sniffle, try to tough it out until it's just the dry Mojave air on your new burn, then the tears start again.

"I can't believe you," you sniff, trying to sound less pathetic than you feel. Ghost leans sideways, settles the metal on the sand beside him. You don't bother attempting to escape even when his grip loosens, you just slump to wallow in your misery.

"It's barely second degree," Ghost's fingers prod at the warm edges of the burn. You flinch, and he pulls back. The dips and grooves of his hand as it rubs over your unblemished asscheek tells you he's taken his glove off. It's the only warming you have that he's going to slip it between your legs.

You don't have the strength to struggle against his hold again. Ghost drags his fingers along your slit, the calloused and scarred skin rubbing gently against your clit. A different sort of heat. One your body seems all too eager for. You press your hips back into the feeling, eager for some reprieve from the pain still radiating off your skin. It earns you a chuckle from Ghost, a burst of embarrassed warmth over your cheeks, and a more firm, focused attention between your legs.

"There ya go," Ghost coos, "wasn't this the deal? I don't kill you, and you do-" he clicks his tongue, adjusts his grip and smears your slick over the back of your thighs, you hadn't realized how wet you were, "-'ow'd you phrase it again?"

"Whatever gets you off," you whimper, filling in the words you remember all too well. Usually a more rewarding experience and with less burns.

Ghost wiggles a finger into your cunt, pumps the thick digit in and out, curls it to stroke your walls, and makes you squirm desperately. "You want me to kiss it better sweet'art?" Ghost asks, almost mocking in his tone.

You nod anyway, and end up grinding your desperate cunt against his mouth the same as you always do.

#cod x reader #x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #mw2 ghost #fallout au

580 notes · View notes

spiderlyla · 7 months

Text

Waking up next to Miguel would go a little like this:

It's early, too early.

The sun is still rising, and the cold breeze of dawn is seeping through the cracks in your balcony. Birds are chirping outside, singing a soft lullaby, alerting the neighbourhood about the rising sun, and beckoning people to wake.

And awake, you were.

It took you a little bit to get over the initial confusion that occurs when you first open your eyes. The room was dimmed enough for you to see everything but was not bright enough to hurt your eyes. The sheets felt extremely warm, the mattress was extremely soft, and the pillows were fluffy enough.

Something is weighing down on your stomach, though it was not pressuring. Your eyes flutter slowly, and you look down to see tufts of messy, black hair blocking your vision.

A smile creeps onto your face, and your hand involuntarily moves to touch his hair. A deep hum erupts out of him, and when he moves, you find those reddish-brown eyes boring into yours.

You don't know how long he's been awake, but it couldn't be long. He looked rather groggy, yet you swear you could stare at him for hours.

He looked rather rugged now. The toll work took on him this month was very obvious, you could tell by his unshaved stubble, by his uneven hair, his tired eyes.You could feel your cheeks heating up, you could never get used to this sight.

"Buenos días..." His voice reverberated in your ears, so low and deep it made you feel all sorts of ways. He moved before you could answer and hoisted himself up using his arms, pinning you to the bed underneath him.

He was not wearing a shirt. The scars on his body were a little visible under his slightly hairy chest. He gained a few more of those since you last saw him, and if it weren't for the fact that you were currently mesmerised by the fact that he was so much bigger than you, you would've voiced your concern or even scolded him for not taking better care of himself.

Good thing for him, you were distracted.

"Sleep well?" He asked, pressing his soft lips to your temple. It was a habit of his now. Even on his busiest of days, he would still give you your very much needed morning kiss.

You didn't reply, only gave him a little hum and wrapped your arms around his neck. Miguel chuckled, lowering himself gently so he could rest on your chest while looking up at you. His hands were on your waist, thumbs mindlessly swiping over the same spot over and over.

And it feels so right this way. His weight on you, the soft sheets smelling of sleep mixed with his cologne, the birds chirping and tapping on your window.

"Don't go to work," He glances up at you, his expression softer than you've ever seen it. "...please." His voice does not surprise you, but his request does. Miguel was never a man with little pride, nor was he someone who liked to ask for anything, so his little plea was very surprising, to say the least.

"It's not until a few hours—" You try to explain, but he scoffs immediately, displeased.

"It's not that, I'm telling you not to go at all today." His grip on your waist tightens just in the slightest, but his gaze is still soft. "I want you to stay." You pause to think for a moment, but you had already decided as soon as you heard him utter those words.

After all, you'd be a fool if you left the bed, leaving such a striking man to be by himself.

"Okay." He finally smiles, his pearly fangs protruding and pressing on his lower lip. He adjusted himself, and you suddenly found him beside you instead of laying on you, arm spread to welcome you into his embrace, and you take the opportunity you were given.

Being against him is comforting. It makes you feel safe and warm, like nothing could ever hurt you. And you knew full well nothing would, he wouldn't allow it.

You find yourself being lulled back to sleep by his steady heartbeat and the smell of his musky cologne. His hand ran up and down along your spine before stopping at your waist and pulling you even closer.

Your eyes involuntarily close, and just before you could slip into sleep again, you feel those lips on your forehead.

"Dulces sueños, Amor." [Sweet dreams, love.]

2K notes · View notes

belovedcloud · 28 days

Note

Your writing is so good! If it's not too much trouble, can you write soft loving sex with Las Plagas Leon or any of your favorite Leon's?

Crave | Las Plagas! Leon Kennedy x Fem! Reader

✎ Notes: I hope you like this, I was thinking about Las Plagas Leon and him being possessive of you in a cuddly way when he comes back from saving Ashley. Sorry that it's short, I have a lot going on for me atm!

➤ WC: 1.55K

➤ CW: Porn with barely any plot, possessive Leon, Leon sucking and appreciating your tits (he's definitely a boob guy), Pet names: sweetheart, baby, my love. P in V (unprotected sex), creampie, fingering & rubbing.

Days passed, worry flooded all over your body as you wondered where your boyfriend was. Although you knew this mission was important in many ways than one - Leon never deserved to be forced into working for the government. However, you couldn't help him in any way but care for him when he came home. Tonight would be different, the Leon that returned wouldn't be the one you knew.

You snuggled yourself onto your couch, the only sounds ringing in your ears was the sound of the wall clock ticking each second. 02:41 AM. Your eyes wouldn't bring themselves to sleep, the constant ideas of what Leon was doing made you shiver in fear. His mission was laced in pure secrecy, nobody but him and the government knew what he was doing. Suddenly, the thoughts in your mind were quickly shut off as you heard keys jingle, a familiar figure yanking them out as he opened the door. He was home. You rapidly lifted yourself up, fumbling the blanket in your hands as your eyes gazed upon Leon. He seemed different. Low groans sporadically came out of his mouth as he threw his duffel bag against the wall, Leon's eyes averted to you. Without hesitation he approached you, wrapping his arms around you. "I missed you... Fuck, you smell good." The feeling of his voice rumbled against the skin of your neck as he nuzzled his head into it. "L-Leon, you should really go rest." A small mewl erupted out of your throat as you slowly caressed his arm, staring upon it. Why was black liquid flowing through his veins?

You tried to pull his head away from your neck, but to no avail. He calmly sucked onto your skin, holding you gently. Leon fought off the feeling of something telling him to lose control, he wanted to make love to you. To caress you in ways where the softest moans would be elicited out of you. Subconsciously, his arms lifted you up for the ground, pulling his face away from your neck. This time, you could focus on the cuts and fresh scars that illustrated all over his face. The dark veins protruding out as he took you upstairs. "Leon? What is up with you?" Your soft voice echoed through his brain, oh how he loved you. How he loved you soft skin against his, the roughness of his own pressing against yours. "What do you mean my love?" His coarse voice juxtaposed his mellow actions towards you, gently placing you down on the shared bed. He stared at your figure with such lust and adoration apparent in his eyes, the way his shirt hugged your curves just right. Your shorts pressing into your plush skin as the movement of his hands slowly crept onto your thighs. Rubbing them tenderly as he gave you a small smile.

"What do you mean? I mean... Look at you. You've got some pattern on your skin." You whispered out as his touch infected you with a burning feeling. An ache pulsing where you needed to be touch - how his hands were so close to your sensitive clit. Was this right? You didn't even know if you knew the man in front of you. Of course it was Leon, your lover, was it really him? "Don't worry about me baby, look at how gorgeous you are." He purred out, slowly lifting up his shirt to see your tits. God, they were perfect. He couldn't help but remove his own shirt, feeling hot in his own skin. Seeing your body was a fuel that he never knew he needed, his veins becoming more prominent in his skin. Spreading all over him, your face still in constant worry. Leon didn't like that. He didn't like that you worried for him, when he felt perfectly fine right? He knew he wasn't okay, the voices still in his head and flashbacks to when he previously just saved Ashley. The government would find some type of cure for him, surely right?

The pads of his fingers fondled with your nipples, his mouth enclosing on one of them as he looked up to see your blissful face. Light moans escaping your throat as your fingers laced themselves into his hair strands - tugging on them just slightly. Leon groaned into your tits, feeling himself jerk into the soft bed you both laid on. He craved you. Your body craved him too as a wet patch formed on your panties, the baby blue colour turning dark as your slick clung on it. Leon's hands moved methodically all over your body, caressing parts that needed him for so long. Until moving them to tug under the waistband of your shorts. "Can I?" He begged, his eyes pleading for you to say yes. A quiet mumble fell out of your lips as you granted him permission to see you. To see that pretty pussy he missed so much. A bite of your lip nearly drove Leon over the edge as he touched the wet spot on your panties. He could smell the sweetness of your pussy calling out to him. Without a thought, he pulled them off.

"L-Leon!" You yelped as you felt his fingers slowly slide into you. "Need to get you ready baby, want to make you feel good with my cock." The squelches of your cunt taking two of his fingers muffled his sentence as he watched them go in and out. A slight curve to his movement causing a loud whine to flood out of your mouth. You could feel yourself starting to gush onto him, needing more of his touch. Leon's other hand interlaced with yours, a sweet look on his face of appreciation as he watched you moan his name out. He was so in love with you. This new profound feeling in him, made him feel different from any other time he was having sex with you. You were his, his craving. A familiar feeling bubbled up in your chest as you felt the pad of his thumb rub on your little clit. "O-oh Leon..." A mellow moan left you as you shook in his touch, your orgasm gushing out. "That's my good girl... Yeah, cum on my fingers." His praises inundated you. You desired this, as much as he desired you.

Leon made quick work of his pants as he unbuckled his belt, removing the cargos that he used in his rampage in Spain. A wet spot standing out on his boxers where his tip leaked out it's pre-cum. Your eyes followed his hand as he pulled his cock out, it was beaming a harsh pink colour. Impulsively, you sat up and reached out for it. A gasp hushed out Leon's lips as he moaned into his hand, feeling your hand rub his hard cock. "Fuck... Baby please I can't do this anymore." A soft smile appeared on your face as he took it into his own hands, positioning himself in front of your entrance. A slow but steady thrust left you both panting as he rutted himself into you.

"Oh my.. fuck, you feel so good sweetheart." Leon whimpered out as he placed his hands on your hips, staring into your eyes as his thighs tapped against yours. He didn't want to fuck you, he wanted to make love. You were his pretty girl, the one he loved so dear and if it meant holding back his own urges for your pleasure, he would do it in a heartbeat. The eye contact shared between you and Leon made you shy; you covered your face, just to have your hands softly removed by your lovers. "Let me see you.. please you're so pretty like this." His lips pressed against yours, moans rung out between the both of you. Creating a melody filled with raw passion as his thrusts became deeper. Your eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy as you felt yourself shake.

"H-Honey.." you whimpered as your hands scrunched the sheets beneath you. The soft cotton rubbing against you as Leon admired your body. His fingers found their way to your clit again as he started to rub it. "Cum on my cock, cum f'me." His voice turned raspy as his dick throbbed inside of you. The pitch of your moans heightened as you felt a sensation that burned so good, the coil in you snapping as your orgasm rushed over you. Making you chant Leon's name as he felt his thighs starting to shake from pure pleasure. Leon watched his dick move in and out of you, a sheer film of sweat forming on his forehead as he felt his release coming. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna cum. Need to fill this tight pussy up." His head fell back, the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, the black veins spread all over his body as his load filled you up. A warm feeling loaded into you as he slid his cock out. Seeing some of his cum drip out of you with a silly grin on his face.

"We need to get you checked up Leon.." You mumbled, tracing a dark line down his face. "Tomorrow sweetheart.. Let me hold you." A gentle smile formed on his face as he stared at your blissed out body.

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil smut

498 notes · View notes

mochinomnoms · 6 months

Note

Do you ever think about eel cuddles? I feel like there are times when they want to snuggle and be in their eel forms while doing it so it's more comfortable for them. I kinda picture being in a big tub with one, their shrimpy is either nakey or wearing a bathing suit and just chilling in the bath with music playing and talking to them. Maybe you get to mess around with their fins or touch their cool claws all the while getting covered in their slimy love.

I do, I think about it so much and I am a sucker for non-sexual intimacy!!!! As much as I like to think about spicy thoughts with the tweels, there's something so domestic about sharing a bath with your partner, scratching and massaging their scalp and carefully rinsing out the shampoo so that it doesn't get in their eyes. It's easier to scrub your back when you have someone else there to do it for you. Yes, it's not the only time they'll see you naked, but there's something extra vulnerable about seeing all the moles, stretchmarks, and scars on your skin under a warm bathroom light.

Floyd isn't a big fan of bubble baths or using things like bath bombs, surprisingly! The idea of foaming bubbles and fizzy colors is cool at first, but all the smells and colors can overstimulate him when he's trying to relax. If he's trying to relax with his shrimpy, he actually prefers to use products with scents that remind him of home. Allow me to flex my ex-Lush employee knowledge, but he likes products that smell a lot more fresh, salty, and even citrusy! Plus, it makes you smell a lot more like him in the end. Floyd will rub his soap into your skin, pressing his forehead into the back of your neck to revel in the contact. For added measure, he'll rub his face, hands, and tail into you so that you'll be all slick and slimy just like him! He'll even do you the favor of massaging it into your skin if you throw a fit about feeling too wet. By the end, you'll have such smooth, soft skin that Vil is going to wonder if Azul decided to start selling his serum to the public.

Jade is just a tad bit more adventurous, if adventurous means picking all the woodsy, floral, and earthy scented bath products he can get his hands on. His favorite scents are rosemary and chamomile, which sounds weird at first but are actually quite pleasant. Jade will get you your very own shampoo, conditioner, and bath products suited for your hair and skin. He will only keep them in his bathroom, though. He slowly but surely gets you accustomed to his products, lush bathroom, and the soothing scrap from his nails that he repeatedly assured you wouldn't hurt. He'll use his claws to gently trace shapes and his name into your skin as he compares how different your skin's texture is compare to him. He's marveling how your fingertips prune up and your nails get softer, unlike his own hands which stay firm, slick and sharp. You're gonna get so used to Jade taking care of you in the bath that you're gonna be dragging yourself every other evening to wash up with Jade to take care of you. And care he does, for your his shrimp as well!

As a the shrimp to an eel, your their symbiote and they'll also expect you to clean them up too. Easier said than done when they're covered in a layer of mucus that sticks to your fingers and makes it hard to grab a hold of their squirming tail (they move it on purpose cause they think your furrowed brows and pout is funny). You can get them to settle down once you manage to trace the ridges of their fins, a particularly sensitive spot on their body that's the equivalent of tracing nails along your spine, soft and delightful shivers will make them chirp and click as you draw shapes and place kisses. It's a sight that the big bad scary eels reserve just for your eyes. Softness in the sea is reserved for only their mate, after all.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #jade leech x reader #jade leech #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #mochi asks

913 notes · View notes

tojisun · 1 month

Note

Angsty thot on the the ghost x reader x soap blurb;

I've been thinking about the what if Soap did actually reciprocate Ghost's advances? For a moment, he forgets reader. Finally, FINALLY, Soap thinks... until the bliss dies down and he remembers reader and guilt sets in. Ghost's only all too happy to show off to reader. Being affectionate with Johhny, leaving whatever marks were left visible, staking a claim that he won.

Reader, of course, is dismayed and feels betrayed. But how much can she really feel? It fucking sucks, it does, that Ghost doesn't care what she thinks or feels and she wasn't in a committed relationship with Soap. So if they were to pursue a relationship, what can she really do about it?

HOW I AM AFTER READING THIS anon i wanna crawl into your mind and poke around your brain because how could you (ext)

johnny knows he hasn’t been honest with himself lately. that, in the face of ghost’s desires—because nothing less could describe the fire in his lieutenant’s eyes; it’s all so heated and leashed. hungry. aching—he denies himself and pretends he cannot see what is crystal clear.

he pretends that every brushing touch was an accident, that every heavy look was a trick of the light. that the way simon calls his name—johnny, with the ‘y’ dripping from his mouth like honey—was all circumstantial.

friendly. platonic, truly.

but it’s becoming more frequent. more passionate. more territorial.

of course, it was all a matter of when, really, was johnny going to fall. and the answer, apparently, is right now.

his shirt is torn off his body, fatigues falling beside two pairs of boots. warm lips, fever-hot, are on his skin, tracing scalding trails that has him trembling. he feels jittery, bones rattling within his flesh. he feels untethered, floaty. nirvana pinched between his fingers.

then, he falls, body thudding against the mattress. the metal of his bed posts creaks, a gunshot in the silence, and johnny freezes. his mind catching up to his heart.

this isn’t—

simon towers over him, his scarred chest heaving in his ragged breaths. the mask is off, discarded to the floor, and johnny, he—

well.

he sees the man that his soul sings to—cheeks flushed, bright cherries, and eyes dark with yearning. simon looks at him like johnny’s all that matters in the world; like all that he’s fighting to live for is johnny.

johnny feels this bloating in the back of his throat, something in his heart swelling until all he tastes is his breaths. his lips wobble, teeth chattering. they stop at ghost’s tender touch, his callused hand cupping johnny’s cheek.

simon's thumb swipes at the skin just underneath his eyes. his lips, crooked, tug up in a smile. “y’r much too gorgeous, johnny.”

johnny doesn’t know what happened next, only that he was stuffed with a burn that scorches from within and engulfed whole; devoured every way possible until simon's marks—from teeth and just his overall brute strength—took. his throat aches, scratchy, and his skin throbs with the memory of their love-making.

he, well, he wept. he tucked his head on the crook of simon's neck, breathing him in, unable to explain the euphoria simmering in the pit of his stomach.

simon loves him. he desired him every way possible so who wouldn't—

who wouldn't lose themselves?

(johnny thinks of you and the memories blur; what had been fiery passion morphs into something ugly. into something cruel.)

there was something different in ghost's gait—that's the first thing you noticed upon walking into the mess hall. he was more relaxed, more open in a way you have never seen from him before. he even met your eyes as you walk towards their little huddled group, the first time in a while, and you are unable to look away because there was something in his gaze that you couldn't quite place.

it still spoke of danger, of a walled barrier that he firmly put between you two, but it was undiscernible.

still poised, though, for the hunt.

kyle greets you first, kind and gentle, but before you could reply to him, johnny's tugging you away. a protest builds on the tip of your tongue, ready to slip past your chapped lips, but you freeze, feet stumbling as the air is knocked out of your lungs.

"bonnie–"

"oh," you say, a whispered gasp, your eyes unable to drag from the bruises on johnny's neck. not made with unkind intensions, if the teeth mars were any indication.

briefly, you wondered if johnny's met someone else to satiate his desires. if, in your absence, he sought to snuff the burning need from someone else. you've been away for three months, after all, chasing a lead in shanghai and tracking them all the way to tianjin. it must have been too long for johnny too.

(you wonder why your heart twinges at the idea of johnny finding comfort in someone else that isn't you.)

but the thought is doused by an ice-cold realization.

"it's– you know that i–"

"oi, 'tavish," ghost's voice rings from behind you.

you tip your head back just enough to see him, to see with your eyes what must he must have done, but he's back to ignoring you again.

it seemed like now that you've noticed what it was that had him elated, ghost no longer wanted to interact with you. not a word nor a touch. not even a glance.

johnny bites his bottom lip, shoulders hunching into himself.

"i'm sor–"

"i have to go," you say, your voice even sounds foreign to your own ears. "i have to, uhm, to report."

you shuffle away from between them, your palm rising to press onto your chest as though that could truly stop the splintering of your heart. as though your heart was truly wounded and that the pressure could stop the bleeding.

but it aches. dear god, everything aches.

ANON THIS HURT ME SO BAD AND I COULDNT HELP MYSELF FROM RAMBLING IM SORRY!! god im wailing so much like i literally was bug eyed staring at ur ask bc OW??? (btw reader is gn in this ghoap x reader angst)

#anon #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x ghost #ghoap x reader #cod x reader #ask #suns

335 notes · View notes

ooffmlsorry · 7 months

Text

One Piece Men Dealing with a Dangerously Reckless S/O

context: by dangerously reckless I mean someone who never has a second thought about throwing themselves in harms way and doesn't care what it does to them

t/w: passive suicidality, self harm? (better safe than sorry) angst. Mentions of blood, injury, and death

LAW

It'd probably lead to a big argument where he threatens to kick you off his crew because losing you would legitimately be the death of him. He can't lose anymore people he loves to violence. When Bepo tells Law you didn't even hesitate to plunge into a thicket of razor wire to help your crew mates escape, it doesn't read as admirable to him. It reminds him too much of himself on Spider Miles. After he gets your side of the story, which pretty much confirms it, he doesn't talk to you at all while he cleans the mud and blood from your skin and stitches the slashes that cover you from head to toe. Normally, even if you've fallen asleep, he talks you through your treatment, but not after your stunts. He's that...scared? Angry? Distraught might be the right word. Every time you do something like this, he's speechless because his thoughts are racing with the reality of losing you. He feels sick to his stomach. On nights like these, he doesn't know whether to sleep far away from you or hold you so close to him you can't breathe.

LUFFY

At first, Luffy doesn't care. He has the utmost faith in his crew, and they put themselves in harms way all the time! Getting injured is just being a pirate sometimes! That's pre-timeskip. Post-timeskip Luffy still has a lot of faith in his crew and a lot of faith in his ability to protect his crew, but he's...different. He believes things are always going to work out no matter what and if they don't he'll make them, but sometimes he wakes up in the middle of night and stares at you, tracing all the scars you've gotten from one fight or another. And then the what-ifs begin to creep in and the nightmares start. After literally diving into a sea king to retrieve Nami's log pose and Chopper has patched you up yet again, you wake up to Luffy calling out for you in his sleep, sweat dampening his hair and his face twisted in fear. You soothe and shush him until his breathing evens out, but he holds you tighter still. It's not in his nature to "bench you" or doubt your strength just because he's in love with you. That would be controlling and doubting you, and he would never do that. But that doesn't mean Zoro and Sanji don't take notice, even if Luffy won't say anything they make it extremely hard for you to pull off any careless "heroics."

ZORO

Much like Luffy, Zoro doesn't think much of it for a while for the same reason. This is the guy that was completely ready to cut his own legs off, after all. But that doesn't mean it doesn't concern him, especially because you don't seem to have a rhyme or reason for all the shit you pull. And he would say something to you about it. Maybe not directly after you jumped straight into Marine gunfire to cover a little girl, he just wants you to be alive at that point. But after days of taking care of you as your wounds slowly heal, after he's certain you're not going anywhere this time, he'd make sure the two of you are somewhere alone and quiet to talk. As far as Zoro's concerned not going down without a fight is completely fine, dying for your dream isn't considered giving it up, but acting like it isn't a possibility is stupid. And he'd tell you as much. For most of this he wouldn't be able to look at you, just because if he does fear is going to take hold of him, but for that last bit he would. Zoro would search your eyes hoping you understand what he's saying. He'll tie you to the ship if he has to, he'd do anything if it saves you from being so stupid as to forfeit your dreams.

SABO

Dying for the cause is par for the course. It's a grim reality that Sabo begrudgingly accepts, although he does have a bit of youthful naivety that it won't ever happen to anyone. He won't ever believe the revolution isn't worth it, but you do make him question it for the first time. He loves you so much he has to compare you to the whole world for a moment, and that's one of the worst thoughts he's ever had. Because the whole world still wins. The guilt would eat him alive until he blows up (somewhat literally) at you for drinking the last of a rare poison to keep it out of the enemy's hands. Angry tears roll down Sabo's cheeks. When he yells at you, he's shaking with anger and fear. It's not up to him, but he doesn't object when you're completely benched while you recover and for a little longer after that. It takes a while for him to no longer angry and scared out of his mind, but once he is he's back to himself. If can visit you every day he will. He has hope for the world's future, and hope for yours too. He's not leaving either behind.

#don't ask me what this is actually #is this something?#who knows lol #law x reader #luffy x reader #sabo x reader #zoro x reader #one piece x reader headcanons #angsty one piece #one piece #one piece x you

690 notes · View notes

gildedkrone · 6 months

Text

As long as you're next to me, just the two of us

request from somebody asking for military reader with internalised homophobia. john price x male reader

"You really ought to not blow your cigar smoke onto me, you know?"

The warm embers of spent tobacco, an all too familiar sight in the dark, starry night, and he's smiling, albeit faintly. He takes an audible suck of air, and the embers glow brighter and fade into a dull orange.

"Thought yer used to it by now," Price blows the hints of something scorched gently across your nose and you fan the smoke away with a flick of your hand.

"I don't smoke, John." He blinks and nods to take another chuff of the cigar as you look away then back at him.

He says he knows. Infernally glorious bastard of a captain and he's content with the warm tranquility settled into the space and the cigar is the last thing the mind's got time for. On the rooftop, the stars are ever distant in the cosmos’s grasp and he moves to lay with his back to the railing, almost close enough to touch. But he doesn't come any closer than that and a healthy distance remains between you and him.

"How many years has it been?"

Five. Five years since he appeared in his lieutenant uniform with SAS patches sewn neatly onto the vest and now? Now, he's a captain of a famed task force and chasing a terrorist halfway across the world with a short break in between his ever-growing catalogue of missions. The rank suits him well, suits him and his beard nicely as he grew into the man standing before you.

All's well. If all's well, then why does it feel as if there's a divide between you and him?

"You know," his head angles towards you when the silence fills with murmurs, "I never did congratulate you on your promotion, John."

"Never too late to do so, sweetheart."

"You call everyone that? Bet your lieutenant wouldn't take it well. That mask—"

"Not him." The words are scented with woodsy, "Nobody else gets to be a sweetheart." And he's saying it so sincerely, it’s impossible to doubt the truth and intensity in his words.

"Exceptions? You're not being fair, captain."

He scoffs and you take the time to admire his visage with a subtle lean towards him. The left eyebrow hitches a little, then it falls back to its place and he's smiling warmly as the cigar burns away in crumbling ashes falling to the wind under the pale moonlight.

"How's your love life? Still seeing Sandy?" The sudden change of topic and you cock your head slightly and he grimaces slightly to have felt some sense of chagrin at poking the sore wound in your heart.

"We broke up a month ago." He lowers the cigar, "She just, didn't want to be in a relationship with a military man, you know? All the absences made her mad and she just ... left."

"On a Thursday afternoon."

He listens so attentively; he's reminiscent of the cadets under your care when they first arrive at sergeant bootcamp. A little awestruck and very much eager to learn and get going and you lean in closer for a look at the new-ish scar marring the area above his eyebrows.

"You've gone and hurt yourself again, eh?"

Fingers brush across the region of his face gently as his face is pliant in your hands and tilts with each nudge to facilitate your examination of his new battle scar. Eventually, you release his face and he runs a hand through his scar absentmindedly.

"You datin' again?"

"No such luck. Tinder's trash these days. All you'll ever find are people down to fuck and run. 's not much better on the other dating platforms too."

"Just women?" The parting of your lips and nothing comes out; the words don't come as they should.

"Just women. I-I ... I’ve never considered other men, John."

"Why not?"

It's a moment of confusion—you entertain his queries about manhood and love. What do you say to that? It's a minefield of emotions and memories tangled with barbs and spikes laden with the flags of youth and curiosity shaped into a spitball refusing to be verbalized.

"I don't think another man could ever love me. And ..." The forgotten cigar in his hands dull and the soft cerulean eyes are gently imploring you to continue, "I ... well, it's wrong and I ... don't know if I can do it."

He nods empathetically and you lean back into the railing to find fleeting interest in the moon. How did the conversation morph into this weird mess of clunky and awkward conversations?

"Well, I have a problem when it comes to dating." Oh? Go on, and he does go on.

"I met a man, and I don't know if he fancies me the way I fancy him."

"Really? I'm glad for you, John. What is he like?"

It's cute how his brows furrow slightly when he's in deep concentration and he says—valiant and resplendent. The vigor of the sun, the ferocity of the lion, and the tenacity of the stars.

"Valiant? Resplendent? You must really like him to hold him at such a regard."

"It's not an exaggeration, lieutenant."

Who had managed to capture John's heart to such a degree? You lose interest in the moon to lay the brunt of your attention on him. His eyes dart away into inkiness night then back at you and its kept steady as a sniper's hands in a high-tension scenario.

"Have you tried telling him? About how you feel?"

"You have tips? ‘M not sure quite how to break it to him."

He seems mildly amused by the chuckle and you regale him with strategies and tactics to win over the mystery man Price loves so much. Everything you’ve learnt from the trashy romance novels stashed in your drawers never to be seen any other service personnel. Even if they would never find their place with another man.

"So, a hand grasp and a head tilt, lots of eye contact, and a heartfelt confession? It’s certainly shorter than the list on the web.”

“Mmhm, it’s that simple.”

He asks if you would entertain his request to rehearse it. You humor him and step away from the railing to face him head on. He clears his throat and warmth envelops your hand in a hand shaped like John’s. His body posture is open and inviting, and he’s putting in the effort to treat it seriously.

His hands clasped with yours is so damn warm and fiercely domestic, and his fingers are gentle when they tilt your head upwards slightly. Something in your heart twists slightly at the endearment in his eyes; you’ve been privy to aggression, bloodlust, and anger in them. But not this. Blood hammers in your ears and you keep your face schooled in blasé calm even if his grasp is uncharacteristically soft and yet, harbored the love he had in his being.

“I love you, sweetheart.” The words are painful to hear on ears not meant for them and instincts are warring in your head in tumult.

You cough gently to realign his focus with the moment.

“Yeah, so, that is how you do it, John.”

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“That’s what you would say that to the man you love so much.”

His throat swallows harshly and his hand remains on your chin. He eyes search for something, and he says it again.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

What is he doing? He cuts you off before you can start.

“I’m saying it to the man I love.”

Whiplash. Whiplash at the revelation as your lips part to reveal hollow words and empty reconciliation of the revelation and your thoughts. No. This—

“I mean it. Whole heartedly. Fully.”

“John … I—I can’t love you, not—”

“I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

“Why? Why the fuck would you choose me? Of all the men and women in the world and you’ve gone and loved the one person who can’t give you anything! John, why?”

His hands are still clasped around yours and laced around your runaway heart. Don’t leave.

“Because it’s what the heart wants, love.” He tugs you in closer and in a moment of stupor, you feel the warmth emanating from him against the chilly night.

“It’s wrong—” And by god, it’s so fucking hard to tell him why it’s wrong when he’s looking at you like that. All worried and desperate to alleviate whatever you were feeling.

“I don’t want to be the fool who dies with a million regrets. And this is fixing it.”

He’s so close but he’s waiting for permission to breach the last barrier of that defensive wall built around the wastelands of the heart. He wipes away the tears which had formed, and soft lips are all you can feel when he closes the gap. Plush, soft lips press against yours and his embrace is all encompassing even as your eyes are shut to close out the world. He comes into view when warmth of his lips disappears and shakes rattle your body in his arms.

“I’ll be here for as long as you want me, sweetheart.”

He means it.

“’m not leaving, unless you tell me to.”

“John, I … I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out together. Me and you, we will find our way as a unit. Together, we’ll do it together.”

He is deadly serious again. “If you tell me to leave, I’ll leave.”

“No … I—I don’t want you to leave. I’m so fucking scared, John.”

“I’m here.” He is here. His hands on your back are proof of his existence in a world bending into a pinpoint of focus that is only John and his features and his exhales on your cheeks. What were you supposed to say? Or do?

There’s no need to do anything.

And maybe, just maybe, that is enough of a promise for you that everything is going to be ok—if it's John, and this was fine, more than fine. Your nod is what John needed to bring your foreheads together.

“Thanks fer trusting me, love.”

The hints of tobacco smoke don’t smell as acrid as they did a while ago and the night isn’t so cold anymore. Not when he wears his heart on his sleeves and draped over you in the moonlight.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist

#fanfic #cod mw2 #captain john price #john price #john price x male reader #john price x reader #male reader #x male reader #x reader #price fanfiction #cod x male reader

694 notes · View notes

cordeliawhohung · 5 months

Text

okay, here's the better run down on mafia!Soap as promised (as well as his fem!nurse!Reader gf <3)

like it's sorta referenced in canon, Soap is the youngest of Price's closest circle. he used to do freelance work as a programmer/hacker and got hired by the wrong crowd trying to steal some of Price's information. impressed, Price actually offered the man a job and he took it mostly because Price paid better. stayed because he also grew to like the man.

people legit call the man Soap in this universe too because he can clean hardware and information like no one's business. otherwise, they'll just call him by his last name or Johnny.

has an odd dynamic with Simon in this universe. more of like his annoying little brother than a good friend. they get along fine, but they don't really interact much outside of work. he's actually really close friends with Kyle, though. the two play games together sometimes, and Soap of course teaches him how to torrent games because fuck activision <3

he's got a few piercings. simple ear lobe piercings that he usually wears simple studs in, but he also has a tongue piercing. just the classic, straight through with a simple bar. he got it because he's a fucking munch

i feel like he wouldn't get many more tattoos than what he already has in canon ngl. if he does, they're def something stupid as fuck that have no meaning. something he probably got due to a dare, or while he was insanely inebriated.

he also doesn't have as many scars as he does in canon. certainly not the one on his chin. he def played football when he was younger, and still likes to play skirmishes every now and then. he also lifts on the regular. sure, he's tech savvy, but he goes fucking insane having to sit around too much, so going for a run or hitting the gym is a really good way to get his energy out!

while he doesn't have too many scars, he still is getting himself hurt a lot. not because he's clumsy or anything, he just really, really, really wants to ensure that something gets done right whenever he's sent out to do "field work." usually ends up with a TBI because of it lmfao.

and that's actually how the two of you met (:

being an ER nurse, you saw a lot of weird shit at the hospital, especially on day shift. then you had this loud man with a huge gash on his head and a suspected concussion roll through the door and honestly you're just glad it wasn't another damn car accident. you were tired of looking at compound fractures.

Johnny is just a fucking loon. literally acting inebriated, and poor Kyle is trying to prevent him from saying anything too stupid.

it doesn't work

at first you have a hard time telling if he's being a creep or not. commenting on your scrubs, how he likes the color, but honestly you've heard worse. but it is sort of cute. he's so loopy he's got this dog-like excitement to him and has a hard time focusing on anything in particular. it's more innocent than anything else.

he falls in love with you the moment you bring him a snack (some shitty and dry saltines and a cup of water). he devours one of the crackers like it's crack and thanks you with his mouth half full.

that's when he gets the bright idea to give you his number. a simple thanks isn't enough for the kind gift you've given him! he's got to let you know that he's down to do anything for you! so if anyone fucks with you, if you need someone taken care of give him a call. he won't ask any questions!

kyle is fucking mortified, hiding his face in the corner of the room, but you just smile and kindly take the piece of paper with his scribbled number.

of course you don't actually text or call him. he was a patient of yours, and that's just breaking so many rules! and you certainly don't need anyone to be taken care of. so you leave it be. despite how adorable his loopy smile was or how pretty his eyes were or... christ, you need to throw that scrap paper away.

and Johnny? well, he forgets all about you. not on purpose or anything, the poor man was hardly conscious when he met you, and he only interacted with you briefly. so imagine his surprise when him and Kyle are out on the town and the man points you out to him asking if you ever ended up texting him.

Johnny is fucking confused. why would she text him? (you gave your number to her, idiot) oh. that can't be. (why not?) because he would have fucking remembered if he had given his number to a girl that beautiful.

now he wants to figure out why you never texted him ):<

anyway there's more to this but my shift was long and my brain is frozen from the fuckin -31 degree weather we got so <3 enjoy lore about the idiot

#mafia!soap #mafia!johnny #mafia!141 #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader

586 notes · View notes

watercurtaincave · 5 months

Note

OMG YOUR WRITING MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!11!!

I was thinking about something like pampering Macaque up?? with cuddles, kissing, gifts. I feel like he deserves it a lot even if he might not accept it so well at first:]

𖤓 !! — Pampering Macaque ♡ Macaque / reader (also thank you for the compliment! :3 I try to write to make people happy)

𖤓 !! — Macaque is the type of guy who doesn't let people close to him, at least not as close as he would want people to be. Funny enough, just like Wukong does, he tends to keep people at arms length; close enough to feel your warmth and enjoy you being here, but now close enough to where you could hurt him. Ever. He was not planning to go through the pain he has felt before, not ever in his life time.

𖤓 !! — So being able to pamper him like this, where his head was on your lap and you were slowly running your hair treatment into his hair took years of effort to achieve. Dare say, it was one of your greatest achievements; being able to slowly help Macaque heal over his past scars and learn to trust your bond, to trust you and your touch and your thoughts that he couldn't read.

𖤓 !! — It took a while for him to trust you, and it hurt at first.

𖤓 !! — You first met Macaque when MK had, in that day he decided to attack the city with his giant ghost self. Of course, no one knew it was just him until MK would tell everyone it is (after having to fight it). And you would assume, much like the rest, that Macaque was some sort of evil villain that like taunted MK at any chance he got! With big scary shadow hims, and shadow plays where he would capture the souls of MK's friends (including you at the time) and then used them to attack MK, to even hunting down MK and Wukong while you all were trying to get the three rings to forge the Samadhi fire.

𖤓 !! — And it was on that mission, after being stuck in a duplicate van that Macaque made to trick half the team, that you realized something about Macaque. It was an odd thing, though he had his own weird way of helping whenever he could. His own weird backwater way of helping MK get stronger, of helping MK see things that Wukong won't teach him, of training MK to be ready for whatever will be thrown his way.

𖤓 !! — And then something in your heart gave a tug; you had to get to know Macaque.

𖤓 !! — This wouldn't happen until later, sadly, while everyone was preparing to fight the Azure Lion and end his rule as Jade Emperor. While you should have been training with MK, Mei, Wukong, and the others, you found yourself trying to hang around Macaque all you could. When partners were needed, you were the first to call dibs on Macaque (despite the odd looks he gave you). When lunch and dinner times rolled around, you tried sitting near Macaque to strike up a conversation (usually it was only you talking). When discussing the plan, you sat on the floor near Macaque (but not too near as to make it weird).

𖤓 !! — It was safe to say your efforts were noticed by everyone.

𖤓 !! — Though Macaque didn't appreciate the steadfast approach you took to trying to 'get to know him'. He found it off-putting at your sudden interest, and he couldn't help but scowl every time you spoke his name or came near. Why would anyone take such notice of a shadow, one, and two why wouldn't you get the hint that he wasn't interested in striking up any sort of conversation? He wasn't interested in having a conversation or any sort of relationship with you. Why couldn't you just leave him alone?

𖤓 !! — But you didn't, you were as stuck in his hair like a flea and it left some sort of bittersweet taste in his mouth. Why would anyone care so much about him? Why, out of everyone, did you run over to make sure he was okay when the fight was over? You could have gone to anyone else, MK, Wukong, Mei, anyone! But why him? And why did his heart give a beat when he saw you rush over to him and frantically check for any wounds. And why when he pushed you away did you let out a sigh of relief and thanked the Jade Emperor that he was okay?

𖤓 !! — He kind of questioned if you were okay or not.

𖤓 !! — Even more so when after all the battling, when the world returned to normal, you kept up your antics: Such as, at the beach party, when Macaque had came in "uninvited" (you had invited him against Sun Wukong's wishes) and was just laying on the beach chair next to Wukong, you had came over. Macaque hoped if he didn't acknowledge you or anyone else at this party than we would have been left alone, but he guessed that was asking for too much. Especially from you. "Hey, Macaque, you want some shish kabobs? They're fresh off the grill!" Yet you're chirping voice still hit his ears, and your proud smile made his glance away. He would let out a grumble before he sat up and took one of you, reluctantly, and decided just to nibble on it here and there. He was about to turn you away, expected you wanted some sort of praise for searing the meat right, but you didn't even asked. You simply smiled, told him to enjoy the food, and walked off despite Wukong having been obviously eyeing the meat skewers in your hands and loudly complaining as you passed by him without a second thought.

𖤓 !! — And Macaque hated to admit it, but your continuous efforts were king of paying off.

𖤓 !! — Slowly, you two grew close enough where he began to seek our your company and you would happily accept it; whenever, where ever, despite what you were doing and who you were talking to. You almost instantly dropped it to make sure he was okay, first, and then just to hang out with him. And it felt nice being wanted. It felt nice being with you. You felt nice and you made him feel nice.

𖤓 !! — Dammit, you snuck your way into his heart.

𖤓 !! — And he wasn't sure when he had agreed to let you pamper him, or how he found himself standing in between your thighs in the dim bathroom light. It was nearly midnight and you had been doing your skin care routine; he came in seeking cuddles and instead found himself softly purring as you massaged his face with your face creams and gels. This might have to be a regular thing.

𖤓 !! — Later in the night, after you had taken your shower and washed your hair, you somehow coaxed Macaque to come and lay his head on your lap. He had noticed that your hair was done up tight, how it had an odd texture and light refraction to it, and he had questioned it. He had never thought you would had started putting those creams and masks onto his hair as well, talking him through it every step of the way to make sure he was comfortable.

𖤓 !! — "And this one smells like coconut," Macaque heard your oh-so-lovely voice from above him as you scooped out some of your hair mask. He had heard you speak about them before to Mei and MK, explaining to them how they could use it during a sleep over and Mei being excited because she had heard so much of the brand you were using! And then Macaque may or may not have researched the product, and it's brand, and realized how much you were actually spending on these hair care and skin care stuff. "You know you don't have to.." He couldn't help but mumble as his eyes glanced up to yours before faltering and looking away. You had already began rugging the mask in your hands so you could properly apply it. Though you paused as soon as his words left his mouth, confused and slightly concerned. "Do you not want to?" You would ask and he heard the twinge in your voice. And he wasn't sure how to tell you that you didn't need to waste your expensive things on him, because he really didn't feel like he deserved it.

𖤓 !! — He expected you to be upset, to be sad that he didn't want you to do this special bonding moment you've done with everyone else. He silently thought you were going to blame him for not being 'open enough' with you, for hating you. But, you did none of that. In fact, what you did surprised Macaque a little as you leaned down and got rather close... yet in a way where he suspected you knew you looked rather silly in his eyes. "Hey, what's going on in your brain there, huh?" And you smiled at him, speaking in such a gentle voice. "Nothing." Was Macaque's first response; His defensive response. And you responded with kissing the tip of his nose. "Hey if you don't want to do this, then I can go wash my hands and we can watch a show or something, no big deal!" And you gave him a way out, despite him knowing how much you enjoyed these sparse moments between the two of you. You gave him a way out despite his sour tone. Why? Macaque frowned at this, noticing as you would raise your head and look over at the sink. You were about to nudge him softly, signaling for him to get up so you could move, and yet he would grab your wrist. This caused you to jump and stare at Macaque as he would press your hands into his soft hair, keeping them there until he was sure you wouldn't move them. He couldn't look you in the eyes after that and he was glad you got his hint that he did want you to rub that coconut stuff in his hair; Mostly because it felt nice as you ran your fingers through his hair, playing with it.

𖤓 !! — It was a slow and long change for Macaque to accept your pampering, slowly realized that's just how you showed your love. And slowly, as he started to accept it, he started to look forward to all of it. He started looking forward to the cuddles and the presents and the nights where you both would stand in the bathroom doing skin care and the noons where you both would bake and cook and start flour wars and the mornings where you would sleep in... just enjoying each other's company.

𖤓 !! — He started accepting it all and accepting you and the possibility that finally, someone would choose him first and finally someone wouldn't leave.

𖤓 !! — all writing on this page belongs to @watercurtaincaves, please do not repost on other sites, plagiarize, or steal. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#lmk macaque x reader #lmk x reader #lmk macaque #lmk x y/n #monkie kid #lmk #macaque lmk #macaque lego monkie kid #macaque x reader #reader x character #reader x canon #lmk fanfiction #lmk fandom #lmk swk #lmk wukong #lmk sun wukong #lmk mk #lmk monkey king

799 notes · View notes

wlntrsldler · 2 months

Text

Three Hundred and Seventy-One Days | Luke Castellan

a/n: not canon-compliant! i hate this actually but i needed to write something to get me back in the zone! sunshine reader because i wanted a broody luke lol.

i. Three days.

Right before the sun sets behind the hill at Camp Half Blood, there's a chill in the air that hits Luke's skin in a way that makes him feel like he's back on the roof of his house in Connecticut. He found out about it when he returned from his failed quest when he was searching for a moment of solace, away from the pitiful eyes of the campers, away from the voice that haunted his dreams. Perched on a branch, hidden by the shade of the leaves, leaning against the bark of the tree with sticky amber clinging to the material of his orange shirt, Luke sits there until the sun disappears for the day.

It reminds him of the days he would crawl out of his bedroom window to escape the sounds of his mother's incoherent mumbling. He would sit there in nothing but a thin t-shirt and his cargo shorts, goosebumps rising on his skin, as he talked to himself. It was a bad habit he picked up in his younger years. He kept himself company at home because his mom didn't talk to him much, not really, and when she did, when her words made sense for once, all Luke could do was count down the minutes until he lost his mother again.

Before he was old enough to understand his heritage, who his father was, he used to pray to an entity he didn't believe in to give his mother moments of clarity, slivers of coherence so he at least knew something, anything, about the woman he called mom. But after the first time Luke's wishes were granted, he stopped praying. Somehow it was more painful watching his mother drift in and out of consciousness than it was living with a stranger he knew he loved, but knew nothing about.

For a year, that spot on the tree was a secret. Nobody knew that Luke would climb up there every day just to feel the breeze against his skin. Nobody questioned why the Hermes head counselor would disappear at the same time, until you came along.

"Whatcha doin' up there?"

Luke nearly lost his balance on the branch at the sound of your voice from under him. He looked down to see you smiling up at him, hands laced together behind your back. You were eighteen, the same as him, and when he first heard of your arrival, Luke was jealous. You got to have 18 years of childhood, while he was only granted half of that. It didn't seem fair.

"You should be at dinner," Luke replied, leaning back against the tree. The sun made the sky a soft orange color. The darkness of the night was creeping in through the corners of the sky, the chill he searches for each night engulfed him.

"To be fair, so should you, head counselor," You replied, analyzing the indents in the bark of the tree trunk that formed from Luke's constant climbing. You slotted your feet in the crevices, making your way to the tree branch beside Luke's. The two branches were close to each other, growing steadily until they almost touched at the tips. "Woah, this view is unreal."

"Be careful," He mumbled, clenching his jaw. "I'm not gonna take you to the infirmary if you fall and break a bone."

"Relax," You chuckled, situating yourself. "I can handle myself."

Luke nodded once and turned his attention back to the skyline. In this light, the scar across his cheek was prominent. It's healed well enough, but it still left a bump across his flesh that made Luke queasy every time he looked at it for too long. The two of you sat in silence as the sun disappeared. Luke tilted his head to look at you, only to find that you were already staring at him. He rubbed the side of his face against his shoulder as if trying to wipe away the scar on his shirt, "What are you doing here?"

You shrugged, "Not really into the whole offerings thing, to be honest."

"So you decided to wander into the woods alone?" Luke asked, "That's dangerous. There's a lot of things out here that you wouldn't believe. You can get hurt."

"But it's okay when you do it?"

"I know how to fight," Luke found himself taking on a defensive position. "You just got here."

"That doesn't mean I don't know how to fight," You replied. Your voice was calm, despite the slight bite to Luke's tone. "Just because I didn't spend my childhood playing with swords and bows and arrows doesn't mean I don't know how to fend for myself, y'know."

"The things out here are different from schoolyard bullies. I don't think you understand that."

"Are we going to ignore that I fought a hellhound on my way here or...?"

"You fought a hellhound?"

Luke wouldn't have guessed that by the way you walked into the Hermes cabin, all smiles and golden flecks of color in the irises of your eyes. You spoke in a preppy tone and he nearly had to grab his siblings by their ear to drag them away from you. If he was a betting man, he would bet that you were a child of Aphrodite.

"Mhm," You hummed, "See, I'm not so helpless."

"I didn't say you were."

"Yeah, but you implied it," You shrugged, not deterred by his tone. "Anyways, are you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"

"Well, I was trying to get some privacy," He replied. He should've been annoyed at the intrusion, but he couldn't bring himself to be upset with you as much as he should've been. "But that didn't go as planned."

"Sorry, sorry," You chuckled, putting your hands up in defense. "Didn't know keeping you company was a no-no. Maybe I do have some things to learn about camp after all."

He scoffed, "Hanging out with me should be the least of your worries."

"I dunno, I always seem to gravitate towards the broody types."

"I'm not broody."

"Right," You laughed. You turned to look at him, jaw dropping when you realized he was serious. "When was the last time you smiled? And not those fake, polite smiles you give to strangers trying to make small talk in the grocery store line, you know?"

No, he didn't know. He didn't go out much, much less to the grocery store to have conversations about the rising prices of produce or the lack of real milk options due to the infiltration of the non-dairy industry.

"I smile all the time," Luke replied, eyebrows furrowing in thought as he tried to remember the last time he smiled at someone. "I smile at campers."

"That's because it's your job, silly!" You giggled, shaking your head. "When was the last time you smiled just because?"

Luke pursed his lips, countering, "When was the last time you didn't smile?"

"When I was fighting the hellhound."

Luke felt his lips quirk up at that. It was a quick-witted response, he'll give you that. He stopped it from becoming anything more and cleared his throat.

"Okay, I'll leave you to it," You sighed, carefully stretching your legs down to the first indent on the tree. You skillfully climbed down and landed on your feet with a thud, "See you around, Luke."

Luke's mouth felt dry at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He was never a fan of his name before. He thought it sounded generic and unoriginal, but when you said it, it didn't sound half as bad as he thought it was. His stomach churned in a way that was foreign to him.

"Hopefully, not here!" He called out, watching as your figure retreated back to the main grounds. "Privacy, remember that!"

"I like the broody types, remember that!" You called back, waving to him before you disappeared into the maze of trees.

ii. Twelve days.

"You lied."

You looked up from your book with an eyebrow raised as you stared at the counselor at the foot of your bed. Luke was standing there, the signature stern look etched on his face. You placed your bookmark in your book, sitting up on your bed as you smiled at him, "Excuse me?"

He had his arms crossed over his chest, the beads of his camp necklace resting on the tops of his knuckles, "You lied. You didn't fight a hellhound."

"Okay, so I didn't fight a hellhound," You said, dragging on the word 'fight' for emphasis. "But I encountered a hellhound."

"Which you befriended."

"Which I befriended," You confirmed, "I named him Stanley. Wanna meet him?"

"No," Luke replied quickly. "That shouldn't even be allowed in here."

"He's sweet," You tutted, slipping your feet into your shoes as you stood up. "Give him a chance, I swear you'll love him."

"You're keeping a hellhound as a pet?"

"He's just a baby," You cooed, jutting out your bottom lip.

Luke felt his face twitch in half-annoyance and half-fondness. He didn't know if he found your naivete dangerous or charming, or both, but he was scared for you. You were too trusting for your own good, "He is not a baby. He's a monster."

"Don't talk about Stanley like that."

Luke rolled his eyes, falling into the same rhythm as your steps, "You don't realize how dangerous this is, Y/N."

"Here you go with the danger thing again," You teased, nudging him. Luke's breath got caught in his chest. Your simple touch seemed to burn his skin. Sparks erupted across his entire body. "Told you, I'll be fine."

"Not every monster you encounter can be defeated by the power of friendship. You can't rely on some kumbaya shit."

"Kumbaya?" You snorted, looking at him with an unreadable expression on your face. You scrunched your face up, a tiny smile tugging on your lips. "You're so...."

"I'm so what?" He questioned, planting his feet on the ground.

"Odd."

He tried not to take offense to that because while your words were like a dagger to his heart, the way you said it showed that you didn't mean it in a bad way. You seemed to be trying to figure him out, pressing his buttons, trying to see what made him tick. And you were succeeding. Luke never ventured to talk to new campers unless he was forced to by Chiron, but he couldn't fight the pull you had on him.

"Broody and odd," He said, resuming his steps, "I'm swooning."

The full belly laugh that escaped you made Luke's steps falter. Campers surrounding you looked at you, confused as to what Luke could've said that made you react that way. Surely, the Hermes Head Counselor wasn't that funny. He wasn't known to crack jokes, not since he returned. You couldn't help it, though. He said it in such a deadpan way that made your sides hurt from laughing so much.

"Just my type," You teased.

Luke didn't like how his cheeks were warming up at your comment. He's not one to flirt or be flirted with. He found girls attractive, sure, but most of them were too intimidated to talk to him so he never really had experience in that department. But he supposed since you grew up in the world, you were used to doing things like this. He wondered if you knew the effect you had on him.

"Dinner is supposed to be good tonight," He said, changing the subject. He was looking everywhere but you, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks that seemed to not want to subside.

"Oh, no you don't," You shook your head. "You are not gonna tempt me into going to dinner just so you can hide away in your tree. I'll be there, Castellan."

He grimaced. He was hoping that you'd fall for the trap, but he was learning quickly that you weren't as gullible as he hoped you'd be. Luke sighed, accepting defeat. "Fine, but can you just be careful? You've been lucky that there weren't any creatures lurking around."

"Why don't we just go together?" You asked, "So you can stop worrying about my safety and all."

"I'm not worried about your safety," He lied through his teeth. The idea wasn't bad though. It would keep him from wondering if you were attacked on your way to meet him. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought about it. He didn't like this weird protectiveness he had over you. He didn't even know you. "But fine. Meet me at the Hermes cabin after they ring for dinner."

"You got it," You saluted him playfully as you walked away, skipping to meet up with members of the Apollo cabin. How did you manage to make so many friends so quickly? And why did you insist on sticking with him when it's clear that you had other friends you could be bothering instead of him?

Luke tried not to think about it too much as he continued on with his day, but no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept pulling him back to you. During his lessons with other campers, he took mental notes of what moves he should teach you, just in case anything happened so you'd be prepared. During arts and crafts, he found himself reaching for the gold glitter because it reminded him of your eyes. This caused raised eyebrows from other campers since it was well-known that the counselor didn't like glitter post-Glitter Gate where he was shaking out glitter from his curls for days.

By the time dinner rolled around, he was thankful he stopped thinking about you, but soon realized that it was worse now that you were in front of him, all smiles and banter as you always were. It was getting harder to contain the redness of his cheeks as you complimented him in your own way.

"Lead the way, Castellan," You grinned.

Luke couldn't help but return your smile.

iii. Sixty-six days.

"Stanley, down," You instructed, leaning over to scratch the hellhound behind its ears. "Good boy."

Luke's sword was raised in a fighting stance as he watched you giggle as the hellhound nuzzled into your touch. You somehow managed to make him agree to meet the monster. Pathetically, it didn't take much for Luke to agree. It took you batting your eyelashes at him with a small pout and he reluctantly agreed to meet Stanley.

"Luke," You called him over, still petting the hellhound. "Come on, he won't do anything to you."

"I'm good right here," He grunted, holding onto his sword. "If he tries anything, one of us should be ready and you obviously have your guard down."

"He won't," You assured, "He's sweet."

"Nothing from the underworld is sweet, Y/N."

"You don't think I'm sweet?"

Luke rolled his eyes. You'd been claimed by your father, Hades, a few days ago. It made sense the more he thought about it. The hellhound wasn't sent to attack you, but to protect you. It was sent by your father to guide you to Camp Half Blood. "You're not technically from there."

"Same shit," You shrugged, patting the spot next to you on the grass for him to join you. "Come on, Luke. Come meet Stanley."

It was against everything he believed in. He shouldn't walk over to you to pet a monster like it was a stray dog on the side of the road, waiting to be rescued. But his feet seemed to have a mind of their own because before he knew it, he was walking over to you, sword tossed somewhere beside him to keep his hands free to touch the surprisingly soft fur of the hellhound.

The hellhound purred under Luke's touch, gentle and loving. If Luke ignored the scary color of its eyes, he would confidently say that it was just a dog. Luke's shoulders relaxed, "Okay, he's not half bad."

"Told you," You said, leaning against him. Luke's hands froze for a second, making the hellhound whine. He resumed his scratches, not wanting to take his chances and angering the dog. "See? Not all of us from the underworld are scary monsters."

"You're not from there," He repeated, "Stop saying that you are."

"Hades is my dad, Luke," You whispered. "So I am. I am a part of him."

"You're nothing like the gods."

There was something in his voice that made your heart pound in your chest. It was no secret that Luke's relationship with his father, and all of the gods for that matter, was strained. Luke saying that you were nothing like them with such sincerity made your head spin. It felt definite. It felt like a fact that he could never think of you as that.

"Could be nice though," You joked, trying to cover up the swell in your chest with humor. "Immortality and all."

"Nah, this one life is enough for me, I think."

"What? You're not shooting for rebirth?"

If anyone else would've asked him the same question a year ago, even a few weeks ago, he would've said no. If any of his other lives were like this one, he would decline the request if he could. All that he'd gone through in this lifetime was enough.

But now you were asking him that question with a twinkle of hope in your eyes that made him wonder if he'd judged this life too soon. Maybe there was more to life than fighting and running. Maybe the moments of life when he sits on a tree branch watching the sunset, or when he's yelling at his siblings to stop running in the cabin, or hell, even when he was petting a goddamn hellhound, were enough to make him wish for another shot at this life thing.

Maybe he just needed to learn a thing or two from you. If he could continue to know you in each lifetime, maybe he'll turn out fine.

"Maybe," Luke poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth. He blinked, "I don't know."

"Keep an open mind to it, is all I ask," You said. "I wanna find you in every universe just so I can annoy the shit out of you in each one."

He chuckled softly, not missing the smile that widened on your face as you watched him crack. "I changed my mind. No rebirth for me. I can only handle you in so many lifetimes."

"You'll grow to love me."

I know, Luke wanted to say, and that's the part that scares me the most. Throughout his years at Camp Half Blood, Luke prided himself in knowing that when push comes to shove, he can do what's necessary to succeed. It's what made him the perfect Head Counselor, the best swordsman that Camp Half Blood has seen in years. It's what made him a hero.

But now he didn't feel like that was the case anymore. He was growing soft, weak. He'd spent so much time trying to protect you and keep you from danger that he forgot about protecting himself. You found his Achilles heel and well, Luke was just waiting until he surrendered to you.

He opened his mouth to speak, "If Stanley doesn't kill me first."

If Luke could bottle up the sound of your laughter, he would.

iv. Three hundred and sixty-five days.

"Who is that?"

Luke followed Percy's eyes to the other side of the field. His lips turned up at the corners as he saw you waving at him with a smile on your face. Luke waved back with the same enthusiasm, confusing the boy beside him.

"That's Y/N," Luke responded, picking up his steps to meet you halfway. "That's my girlfriend."

"You have a girlfriend?"

"I know, shocker!" You teased, placing a kiss on Luke's cheek. Luke wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer, completely oblivious to the grimace that graced Percy's face. "Mr. Stick-in-the-mud head counselor has a girlfriend."

"Hey!"

Percy scrunched his face up, "You kinda are a stick-in-the-mud. No offense."

"Offense taken," Luke scoffed, poking your side. "Y/N, this is Percy. He's new here."

You stretched out a hand in greeting, "Nice to meet ya, Percy. Welcome to Camp Half Blood."

"Are you always this preppy?"

"She is," Luke said, shrugging. "Nice change of pace from the rest of us, don't you think?"

"Sure," He nodded, eyeing the both of you. Luke's arm didn't move from your waist and you didn't seem to mind. He was too young to understand why you and Luke didn't want to have any personal space. "Are you joining us on the tour that Luke is giving me of Camp Half Blood?"

"Wish I could, but the Stolls are planning to TP the Ares cabin as a prank and I should probably stop them before someone gets maimed at Capture the Flag tomorrow," You cringed.

Luke sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder. You tangled your fingers through his curls, trying to offer some comfort, "I told them not to do that."

"When have your siblings ever listened to you?"

"They used to before you came along!" Luke groaned, "But now they only listen to the pretty counselor."

"Must run in the family," You teased.

"Shut up," Luke grumbled, lifting his head up. Percy could see the blush on Luke's cheeks and he cringed. He hoped he'd never end up like this when he became a teenager. It was obvious you had Luke wrapped around your finger. "Go stop them before Lee gives us a lecture on the dangers of resorting to violence. Again."

"I'm going, I'm going," You laughed. You placed a quick kiss to Luke's lips before waving goodbye to the two boys. Before you were out of earshot, you turned around, "Tree later?"

"See you there!" Luke replied, grinning at you until you made it across the field. He turned to Percy, scratching the back of his neck, "Sorry about that. Where were we?"

"Archery."

"Ah, right! Archery," Luke nodded, continuing his steps, "It's down this way."

Percy followed Luke through the field, staring at the signs that pointed in different directions. Camp Half Blood was huge. This tour was definitely going to take longer than he anticipated. Not wanting to continue with a lull in the conversation, Percy spoke up, "How long have you and Y/N been together?"

Percy figured that Luke would have a lot to say about you which would fill the silence. He was right. Luke smiled at the boy, "A few months. She got here last year and it's been us two ever since. Took me a minute to ask her out, though."

"Well if you liked her, why did you wait? That doesn't make much sense."

"It was complicated," He replied, "I didn't really accept that I liked her until way later. Kinda kept my feelings to myself for a while."

"Is this what being a teenager is like?" Percy asked, cringing at Luke's words. He always imagined that falling in love with someone was easy. If two people liked each other, they should be together, right?

"Yeah," Luke laughed, patting Percy on the back. "Enjoy your early years, Perce. It gets worse from here."

"Geez, you really know how to inspire confidence in someone."

The laugh that escaped Luke reminded him too much of you. There were parts of you that weaseled their way into him. He didn't understand why you laughed so hard at his deadpan comments before, but now that he was on the receiving end of it with Percy, he saw why.

Percy reminded Luke a lot of himself, back when he was younger. It was a weird thing to meet a foil of yourself, someone who you could've been if things had been different. Luke wondered if he'd be like Percy if his life hadn't been so cruel. Not that Percy's life was all sunshine and rainbows, either. Luke heard through the grapevine that Percy lost his mom during the battle with the minotaur, but at least he had a mom that he knew. He had a mom that cared for him.

Luke was dreading the day Percy got claimed. Something told him that it would cause a ripple effect. Start things that Luke wasn't ready for, not yet. Maybe he'll never be ready for it. Had he known that he'd meet you, maybe he wouldn't have said yes to it. Maybe if you had stumbled into Camp Half Blood a day earlier, he wouldn't be facing this.

Luke faked a smile, shaking away those thoughts, "Come on, archery's just around the corner."

v. Three hundred and seventy-one days.

"Thought I'd find you here."

Luke closed his eyes at the familiar voice that joined him on the tree branch. The separate branch that you used to it on morphed into his own. Two branches intertwined, a simple work of nature, but it felt like a symbol. An omen.

The fireworks illuminated the night sky. Luke had never been up here this late before. The air was cold.

"What are you doing here?"

You let out a dry chuckle, "Dejavu for a second there."

"Y/N."

You gulped, slowly inching towards him. There was a crease between his eyebrows as he stared ahead. You sighed, "I came looking for you."

"Why?"

"Luke, don't do this."

He sniffed, rubbing his eyes with his balled-up fists. He winced as he put too much pressure on his cheek, his scar stinging at the contact. It's been more sensitive lately the more he spoke to Kronos. He shook his head, "I have to."

"No, you don't," You pleaded, placing a hand on his arm. "It's not too late."

"It is. Don't you understand?" He sobbed, "It's too late."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I didn't want to break your heart," He whispered. He felt silly saying it out loud, but it made sense to him at the time. He couldn't bare to see your face when he told you about everything. That's why he was going to leave without saying goodbye.

"How's that going for you?"

How you managed to make him laugh even during this, even during the end, was beyond Luke's understanding. He wished you didn't have an effect on him like this. It would make things so much easier.

"I'm sorry."

"For breaking my heart or for betraying all of us?"

Luke licked his lips, "Both."

You removed your hand from his arm. Luke shivered without your touch. "I'll see you again, yeah?"

"I don't know."

"I know," Tears pricked your eyes. Maybe it was the shock of it all, but you were calm. Too calm. It didn't feel real that just a few steps away, camp was in disarray because of the boy beside you. "Rebirth, remember? In every lifetime."

"Sure," He said. Maybe the hope of it all will be enough to get him through this. "I love you."

"I love you, too," You said, leaning over to place a last kiss on his lips. You pulled away as you felt your tears mixing with his, "Go, they'll come looking here soon."

Luke nodded and made his way down the tree. You watched him fade away in the distance.

#frances writes #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n

256 notes · View notes

bubbles-for-all-of-us · 8 months

Text

Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n chapter seven! Gosh, who would have thought that this would grow into something this big. Idk... writing this story does something to my brain.

warning: kids, mention of past trauma, wing clipping and all the horrors of Illyrian camps, vomiting, I think that's all...

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Azriel was stalling, and he knew it. For the first time in his life, the spymaster just couldn't put the needs of his court first. He tried. Mother knows he tried hard. But every time Azriel even came close to winnowing back to Velaris, he stalled. Waited. The tug pulled him back. The need to stay in the sanctuary held him in a chokehold. Something deep within him kept telling him that if he left on his own, even if it was for a couple of hours - he would not forgive himself. And the consequences - he didn't want to bear them.

"Keep your head up", Azriel articulated in his much lower voice, "Don't tuck your shoulders". One of his hands was pressed to Axel's back, making sure the arch was right. Away from the eyes that hawked between the walls, Azriel had finally ushered Axel out for morning training. The male didn't remember anyone being so happy to wake up before the morning sun. To be out in the chilly morning wind. To train. But Axel didn't even yawn once; he didn't rub his eyes. He was here, and he wasn't going to back down.

"Good job! Just like that", Azriel fueled Axel with praising words. He gave shit to Cassian when they were sparing. But while Cassian and he worked better when they were pissed at each other. The real broody fea raging. Axel was a whole different story. He ran off of Azriel's attentive care. Of him showing up. Of him seeing the boy. "Let them rest", Azriel stated his last order firmly, and Axel, with a couple of sloppy beats with his wings, seized his movements to a halt, panting breathlessly. The leather healed nicely. Way too nice for what it should have been, but that without doubt had something to do with your powers. It had to. That was another itch in Azriel's brain. A summoner? What was that supposed to mean? Sure, he had seen you wield light, heal, and slow heartbeats, but that in one big package didn't shape one solid answer.

"You're okay?", Azriel glanced down at the boy sitting on the fallen tree trunk. The biggest smile spread over Axel's face as he nodded his head. "Do you think I'll get to fly with you eventually?", the boy pointed towards the sky, Azriel's eyes following his movements. The spymaster's heart clenched at that. He hoped that would be possible. He hoped that with solid, strong back muscles and flying lessons, Axel too would bathe in the song of the wind. "We'll do everything we can to make that happen", Azriel threw a smile boy's way, something he found himself doing a lot lately. "Does your back hurt?", "A bit", the boy admitted shyly. Azriel only nodded. "That's a good sign; it means you're doing everything perfectly", and with that alone, all doubt and fear vanished from Axel's eyes. "Come, I'll carry you back", the boy didn't miss the invitation as he leaped into the warmth, snuggling into the male. Azriel held Axel with delicate care, mindful of the sore wings. He continued to run his hand over Axel's scared back. A sickly feeling still crept through him every time he came in contact with it. Azriel could endure the pain of his scars, but seeing Axel bear it as well fueled an anger that had never raged before. So Azriel pulled the boy just a little closer as he continued walking.

"What about this? It's blue", Zofie had been pulling out dresses from her closet all morning long. You had told the kids about the invitation to Velaris. Hoping that they would refuse to go. Make your own choice easy. You hoped you could hide behind their answers so you wouldn't have to make the decision yourself; just the two of them had been over the moon. Eager to go. It was as if Azriel had hung the moon for them, and now, no matter where or what he suggested, they were swooning with happiness.

"It's your favorite", you say, looking up from your seat, pealing your eyes away from the shirt Axel had placed into your hands this morning, practically begging you to fix the hem of it. "You said you'd use it for a special occasion", you continued. Because that dress was more than special. You had made it for Zofie after she had admired that she had never had one. Only clothed in scrappy cloth bags her whole young life. "It is special. We've never gone anywhere", she said firmly, looking down at the deep blue of the tule. "Do they have a big dance floor?", her eyes darted back at you, gleaming. You wanted to tell her that Velaris was like nothing she had ever seen before. She'd find much more than just a breathtaking ballroom, but you tucked that deep within yourself. "I don't know, sweetie. You'll have to ask the spymaster of the night court". The girl tilted her head to the side, "He has a name - Azriel. You know it", she sassed back at you, scrunching her forehead slightly. Because while you pulled back, they ran straight into Azriel's arms. You weren't jealous. Well, a little. You knew you weren't being replaced. You just... You wished you could find strength in yourself to trust once again.

The door to the room swung open after a little knock, and in strolled the two boys. Both still slightly sweaty and... "Oh, this is not okay!", you huffed as you watched them both standing there with their shirts off. "What's all of this about?", you rested your hands on your hips, trying to scowl. There was no doubt that you failed miserably because it was practically impossible to ignore the way Azriel's toned chest looked. Your hands had touched that... You quickly cleared your throat, leaning closer to Axel. "Real soldiers don't wear shirts when they are in the middle of an intense workout", the boy stated so casually that you quickly tilted your eyebrows up, glancing at Azriel, who looked way too mischievous for his own good. That bastard knew what he was doing. But it was the way Axel wore the scars on his back as if they were nothing that tugged at your heart. As if they didn't weigh him down. As if he didn't care if anyone else saw them, and deep down, you knew it was Azriel that you needed to thank.

It was Zofie who washed away the prolonged silence, "We're packing for Velaris", she said, lifting her hands up and showing off her dress which was still wrinkled. Azriel's hopeful eyes darted your way immediately. You two hadn't talked about his promises. About the things he had said. You had been cold toward him. You didn't want to, but his words had struck deep, making your defense walls waver. "Do they have a ballroom?", Zofie chirped, stepping closer to the male, who almost by nature had sunk to one knee so he could be more at Zofie's eye level. "Yeah, they do. I hope you'll save a dance for me", Azriel stated firmly, and Zofie nodded eagerly at his words. Giggling as the shadows swirled around her, turning her hair into a big cloud around her, lifting it from her back as she swirled with them happily.

Azriel's smile faltered. A pain like no other struck him. She was wearing Axel's shirt, no doubt, the loose material falling off the back, as she finally collapsed to the floor, screeching. Yet all Azriel saw were two deep red marks that ran all the way up to her shoulders. He didn't need to see more to know what that meant. He didn't need... Azriel stood up so quickly that his head spun. Turning abruptly, he shot out the door. Images of that night. That torturous night when he and Cas had to pull Rhys away from the lifeless bodies of his mother and sister filled his head. Now clear as a day. The torn-apart flesh in their back. The blood. The broken bones. The gashed. Azriel didn't make it far. He bent just slightly as he leaned against the wall. His breakfast coming right up. He heaved and gagged for what felt like forever. Head pressed against the cold stone as he tried to calm his breathing. Tried to shove the image of the mutilated bodies. Zofie's lifeless... That alone had Azriel hurling all over again.

"Drink", the strong smell coming from the cup was enough to let Azriel know that it was ginger brew. And the warmth of a hand on his shoulder—enough to let him know that you were here. But he was too afraid to move. Any movement threatened to make him heave again; he was convinced of it. "You look pale as a ghost drink, Azriel", you pushed the cup closer to his lips, holding onto his jaw as you tilt the mug up. Azriel manages to take a couple of sips before pushing back. "She's...", he managed to whisper. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, "Wingless? Yes". Azriel let out what seemed to be a superseded whimper, and all you could do was lower your head. You could speak of it only because you've walked with that pain for so long and yet it still clawed at you in moments like this.

"Who?", the tone seemed pure death. "Azriel...", you said in a pleading tone. This man had proven to you more than once now that he was willing to bring hell out for the kids. Yet you still denied it. "Give me a name! Tell me what camp. I will skin him alive", you swiftly moved to cup his face as you shook your head. "Do you remember what you told me about the fact that all they need is love?", you asked, looking into his deep golden orbs. "They need the same from you, Az", the darkness plunged back into its cage. Yet his breathing was still heavy. "This isn't fair", his words spilled through his gritted teeth, his hands pressing onto your hips. His way of grounding himself. "You and I both know that life is cruel", you offered him a sad smile, but he only shook his head. "But", you breathed out, knowing deep down that you needed to say this. "Azriel... She's up there right now, thinking that she has done something bad. That Axel's scars didn't scare you, but her...", and that's enough for Azriel to pull back as he turns around, only a black mist of his shadows left in his track.

And she's there in his arms when you finally make your way up. Splotchy face pressed against his shoulder. Zofie is a tiny girl as it is, but in Azriel's embrace, she almost looks microscopic. His palm covers most of her back. She has a fistful of his shirt in her tiny fists. "You're just as special", you hear Azriel muttering under his breath. Axel inches closer to you, arms wrapping around your leg as he nuzzles into you. You're convinced that the only time this man was brought to his knees was when he was pleading to stay with that female, but in his time here, he kept kneeling in front of the two of them. And it doesn't seem to bug him. It doesn't seem to clash with the cold mask he has built.

It's hard to hear their conversation, but then it's for them alone. And the bits you do hear—"I'm sorry," "You're one of the strongest girls I've met", and endless mutters of "I'll keep you safe" and "You'll never have to be afraid anymore"—are more than enough to make your eyes sting. Because you know that Azriel would not let go of her, or Axel, for that matter. They were logged into his heart. Fully. Permanently. It soothes you that Zofie doesn't understand and doesn't remember the way things had happened. Her father had taken it upon himself to carve her tiny wings out the same day she was born. A poor baby caught an infection. Leaving her slightly sickish and way smaller than she should be for her age. But she still kicked around fearlessly. Determined to not let monsters like that win. You dabbed a tear away from your cheek quickly. Letting the feeling of Axe's soft hair pull you back out.

"Can I fly?", the girl lifted her head from Azriel's shoulder, tiny palms rubbing her eyes. You sucked in a breath. She had never thought about that or asked about it. You want to cut in; try to say something. But Azriel pulled the blanket off the bed before carefully wrapping Zofie in it. "You say a word, and you'll be soaring through the clouds", Azriel says softly, and her eyes spark with anticipation. She glances your way, and you give her a tiny nod. "Then I want to fly", she whispers, and that's enough for Azriel to scoop her up as he moves towards the balcony. Her tiny hands spring out of the blanket as she wraps them around Azriel's neck, and they are airborne. Together.

You find him hours later. Everyone has long gone to bed, but you've spent way too long tossing and turning. The pull in your chest was too unbearable. So, with kisses on both of the kids' foreheads, you let your feet lead the way. And it only hits you that you're standing right in front of his door when it opens and you see his figure. Your body seizes, just like it always does when you're in front of him. Or, well, when he's shirtless.

You lift your haze and say, "I... wanted to check on you. Make sure that it's...", you topple over your words before managing to take a breath in, "Are you okay?". Azriel says nothing; he just steps to the side, a silent invitation. He's nursing a glass of whiskey. He's been off alcohol for most of his time here, so this... This had to reopen deep wounds.

"She was ecstatic. I've never seen her eyes so bright", you try to breathe in that sense of peace in him. "How is this still happening? Rhys has put out clear laws", is all he says in return. You step closer to him, reaching for a glass in his hand, and Azriel gives it up rather easily. "These males run things by their books, and you know it, Az. The sanctuary has a dedicated armed force, and there are missions. We do what we can," you state calmly, but Azriel simply shakes his head. "Come here", he mutters, his hands reaching up for you. "I don't want you going back to these camps", his words are firm as you rest your head against his chest. "You can't boss me around, remember?", you jab at his chest painfully. "Then I'll be going with you", Azriel says, as if it's so self-explanatory. You pull back slightly, shaking your head. "Start by taking us to Velraris, foreign soldier", you murmur, and that's the first time you get to see a smile paint his lips. "While you're in a silk nightgown?", he muses, and you let out a gasp, wrapping your arms around your chest. The reality that your nightgown has been the only thing separating your bodies all this time slowly seeping in, making your cheeks grow crimson. "In your dreams, shadowsinger", you purr back at him.

The next morning is filled with anticipation. Little feet running all around the place, shoving some of the forgotten pieces into the overnight bags. Throughout the breakfast, the conversation lingered around Velaris. As Azriel pulls story after story, the two younglings gasping. The list of places to visit getting longer by the minute. You were happy for them. This chance to explore something new—that child-like thrill—made even the smallest of things seem huge.

"Bacon", Zofie quickly jabbed her finger toward the plate, making Azriel let out a light chuckle. But he makes quick work of assembling the perfect bite before carefully turning the fork towards the girl's mouth. "Good?", he asked, leaning to the side slightly so he would be able to see her face. Zofie just smiled up at him, kicking her little feet happily as she chewed. She was perfectly capable of feeding herself but more than aware that she had Azriel wrapped around her little finger, meaning that one tired look was enough for the spymaster to usher her onto his lap so he could help her eat breakfast.

"You can't carry us three", Axel said as he too cut into the last bits of food on his plate. Azriel lifted a brow in a challenge, "I bet I can". The boy shook his head, "You only have two hands; there's three of us here". The shadowsinger only smirked, "Who knew you were so good at math", Axel let out a gasp before his face grew mischievous. "Will we go one by one?", Zofie asked, turning her head to look up at Azriel. And just as always, he was quick to sense the panic in her voice. The thought of having to be at some place alone while the others came around clearly made her antsy.

"No, we're all going together. I'll winnow us there", Azriel said firmly, followed by an explanation of what that meant. "Will this hurt?", Axel was quick to cut in. "No, you'll hold onto Y/n; I'll hold onto you all,", the spymaster said calmly, knowing well that the first time might feel rather unsettling when you're not so used to the sensation. "Can we get lost?", Zofie's voice was barely audible. Azriel placed a quick kiss on the crown of her head before leaning closer to her, "No", his eyes were fully focused on the little girl, "Because I won't let that happen".

The cool air nibbled at your skin first. Pinching your cheeks and painting them slightly more pink. It was way cooler here, even if the sanctuary was in the mountains. Magic had its perks. Azriel's grip around you loosened as he stepped back, the warmth of him melting away. A part of you wanted to hold onto him for a moment longer. You two still hadn't had a proper conversation about everything. Not that there was anything much to say, but you felt like letting him know that you trusted him.

"Look up at the sky, Zo", Axel practically shrieked with excitement as he softly pulled on Zofie's dress. She carefully peeled her palms away from her eyes. Even with Azriel humming through the quick journey here, her little panic took the best of her. "You can see all the construction", Azriel pointed up at the sky as he rubbed her back softly. "Rhys is a show-off like that", he muttered, mostly for you, and you couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "Perseus...", Zofie motioned with her little finger, making Azriel nod, "That's right, we can find them all later on".

It took you a moment to look around. You haven't been here in... ever. The only time you had come down here was straight to Rhys's office. You haven't been out of the sanctuary since you were first brought in. Except for the camp. An uncomfortable shiver runs down your back. The place Azriel winnowed to felt pretty secluded. The buzz of the sitting seemed further away. The street was brightly lit, with dangling lights and flower beds blooming on every window sill. "This isn't the main house", you muttered. It didn't feel like it. A least, you had no clue how Rhys would fit a study so big in here. Azriel shook his head as he lowered Zofie to the ground. "I wanted you to warm up your feet in Velaris first", he said while shaking his head. "So, we're not meeting everyone tonight?", a wave of relief washed over you. Sure, you were excited and all, but... one can only take so many stimuli at once. And well, for the kids' sake, that was a perfect start. "I wanted you to meet someone first. Someone special", Azriel said softly before stepping closer to the door and knocking gently.

The kids quickly rushed to stand up tall, yet their hands were gripping the sides of their skirts. Putting on their best behavior. So eager to meet someone new. Someone they hadn't seen around the sanctuary. Someone who seemed to be a part of a whole new world. But it's not really what you expected. In all honesty, you didn't even know what you were expecting.

An elderly woman opens the door, the brightest smile on her face as she sees Azriel. Her hands instantly reach to cup his face, and he doesn't pull away. He basks in the softness of her touch for a moment before moving to kiss both of her palms. "My boy", she beames, and you're convinced your heart had stopped working. Or there's a blood vessel that popped, hence the roaring in your ears. No, Azriel brought you to his... "Mother, I want you to meet someone", the spymaster steps to the side to give his mother a clear view of the kids and you.

You wait for her smile to falter, but she only seems to smile brighter. "Oh, dear...", she holds onto Azriel's arm. "Aren't you two adorable", she opens her embrace warmly, and that's all Zofie and Axel need as they rush forward toward the woman. Big eyes observing her as she cups both of their faces. You bite the inside of your cheeks.

"Yours?", the woman says, looking up at her son. Almost a hopeful gleams there as she watches him. "Not by blood", the spymaster says, and he says it so naturally that you nearly feel your legs buck. Convinced your nails are drawing blood from the way you are squeezing your palms. "And this lady, must be the lover?", her soft eyes land on you, knocking the last air out of your lungs. You open your mouth, but Azriel beats you to it: "Not yet, but I'm working on it". The elderly woman hums softly, a knowing look on her face as she glances between the two of you, before turning her eyes back on the kids, "Why don't we head inside, loves? I'm making cinnamon rolls", and the two younglings don't even do a double take at you as they walk toe-in-toe through the arched wooden door.

You turn to Azriel. "You're insane", you whisper, your eyes already full of tears. "No, I'm just trying to make the right choice for the first time", Azriel says calmly, reaching out for you, but you back away. "Azriel, this is...", you breathe out. "Don't back away from me", hurt flashes in his eyes. "I know I made questionable choices", Azriel pleads. "But this feels fucking right... I can't explain it, YN, but it feels as if I was meant to be here, meant to...", he states, almost in slight disbelief himself, "Don't take this from me".

You watch Azriel for a heartbeat. One. Two. Before you just leap forward, crashing your lips against his. And it's way better than you could ever imagine. It's eager and hungry. Messy, but so... right. As if this was something that was meant to happen. Azriel brings you closer as he deepens the kiss. His palms moving straight to your hips, a habit of his by now. You arch into his touch, your body working on its own rhythm when it comes to Azriel. And when you finally pull apart breathlessly, with a slightly rosy cheek, you can't help but smile at him because maybe just maybe. This is your chance to have your person. Your home.

"If I accidentally winnow us to my apartment now...", Azriel muttered breathlessly, making you let out a laugh. "Don't you dare, soldier", you say, pointing your finger at him. "I won't... Just thinking about it...hard", he states through hazy eyes. You shake your head as you brush your fingers across his lips, trying to clean up the smudged marks of your lipstick. "In your dreams," you purr lightly. "Well, I've been dreaming for a while now, love", Azriel reaches to you, resting his forehead against yours before his lips find yours once more.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace

#azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster x reader #acotar x you #acotar x reader #acotar imagine

523 notes · View notes

chaos-in-deepspace · 14 days

Text

LNDS: Bongo Butts | 18+

I should be going to bed but I forgot to do laundry so here I am, writing more content that nobody asked for. Just like motorboating them...when I see them butts. Just. WHAM BAM. Thanks for coming to my TED talk. Also hope you know I had to research different types of dump trucks for this fic.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Ass Slapping, Crack Fic, Playing their asses like they're bongos, Zayne's lost sanity, Rafayel is scandalized as per usual, you mentally scar Raf, Xavier is confused as per usual, but is he confused?, he does get you back tho

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Xavier really did need to be more careful around you. He was the one who wanted you to date him first, in your defense. He chose you. And you wouldn't let a single day go by that you didn't prove why that was a horrible decision on his end. At the very least, he could claim that he was never bored with you around.

Today was supposed to be a lazy day. You two had off from all missions and were relaxing around the apartment since it was too damn hot to actually go outside. It also happened to be laundry day for Xavier, so he was dressed in his workout attire while his uniforms were being deep cleaned from all the dirt that accumulated on them during his missions.

Those shorts. They were so damn short. You'd even call it slutty because hot damn. His ass was just right there. It was staring at you. Hypnotizing you like it was a snake charmer. Your hands were already twitching in a grabby motion as you stared directly at those perfectly rounded globes on his backside. His beautiful bubble butt.

Xavier could feel your stare burning into him as he looked over his shoulder. He was just sun bathing by the window, laying on his stomach. So vulnerable to your upcoming attack.

"Something you need?" Damn, he already sounded suspicious. It might've been by how you were practically drooling with your hands up, ready to grab at him. It was a slight give away. He should've been more prepared though, because you lunged at him in that moment.

He only had time to turn slightly when you pushed him back on his stomach, sitting on his back to pin him down. Your hands took a fistful of his ass before you began hitting them with little force. Just watching them jiggle with every little slap of your hands.

You were cackling like a maniac as you continued your assault until he managed to maneuver you off of him. You were laughing, your cheeks flushed as you almost teared up. His entire face was red as he stared at you in horror. Then you saw a flash in his eyes and you knew you were done for.

He grabbed you, pulling you onto his lap. Then you felt a harsh slap at your ass, making you squeal. It was so much rougher than you had hit him. He stared at your back side and did it again.

"I can see why you found this so entertaining. I think I'll play with this for now."

"Unhand me you creatine!"

"I think not, if I let you go, who knows what else you'll do to me."

Zayne

Anyone who has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on Akso's best Cardiac Surgeon knew that one thing was a pure fact. He had an ass. His doctor's coat did a good job concealing it, but he couldn't wear it all the time. You had even noticed a few nurses who would glance down at him when he passed them in the hallway.

It was something you knew very well about Zayne, and something the man seemed oblivious to. The man didn't just have a dump truck as a rear end, it was a dump trailer. That shit could keep a family fed for an entire year. It was so perfect in every way. You could grab onto one cheek with both hands and you still wouldn't be able to capture the entire thing.

Yet for some reason, Zayne had no idea just how badly you needed his ass. You would often times find yourself staring at it when you hung out, had an appointment, or were just lounging at the apartments. It plagued your thoughts. You were losing sleep over this. It wasn't good for your health.

"Zayne..." You said as you relaxed on the couch next to him. You two were catching up on a TV show that you started well over a month ago but hadn't had time to really enjoy it.

"Yes, did you need something?" Oh how sweet he was, always looking out for you.

"Yes actually...can you lay down on your stomach for me? I wanna do something." You said, knowing that this man would do just about anything you asked. He eyed you for a moment, contemplating if he wanted to play this game with you.

"Might I inquire as to why?"

"That's for me to know, and you to find out."

Zayne took one more moment before giving in. He adjusted his position, laying down on his stomach just as you had asked. You decided to be subtle, leaning over his form and placing your hands on his shoulders at first. You gently caressed the skin there, massaging the muscles through his shirt as you slowly made your way down to the small of his back.

There it was. The prize. The holy grail of all asses. It was ripe for the taking as you looked over to see Zayne's closed eyes as he relaxed under your touch. You didn't hesitate. Your hands slapping down on his ass and grabbing it roughly.

His eyes shot open as he looked over at you. You licked your lips as you began gently slapping the flesh, watching the bounce as though it were made of jelly. It was a sight to behold and you couldn't help yourself. You had seconds before Zayne reacted and pulled your grubby little hands off him.

So you leaned your head in and bit down. His pants managed to cushion him from the force of your bite, but he sure as hell felt it. He sat up and grabbed you under the arms like a cat, stopping you in your tracks as you stared at him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Playing with your nice ass."

"My butt is not a play thing."

You paused for a moment, eyes trailing down to the front of his pants, "If you aren't gonna let me slap your ass, can I play with your dick like it's a Bop-It?"

You watched Zayne go through five stages of grief. He sighed as he grabbed a blanket next to him, wrapping your entire body like a burrito so your limbs were no longer effective. He then sat back down on the couch with his legs open and placed you between, holding you tightly to his chest.

"I'm begging you, please be quiet for once and let's finish this show."

Rafayel

He should've known you were up to something if your gaze was anything to go off of. You had zeroed in on him the moment you had come over. Even during your little date as you two explored Linkon together, he knew something was up. Your not so subtle glances in his direction couldn't be considered innocent.

If only he knew why you were staring so hardcore. He had gotten a new pair of pants, or at least you assumed they were new. You were pretty sure you'd remember them with how good he looked at the moment. It was tight on him, accentuating his ass perfectly. You were pretty sure if you riled him it would also perfectly outline another aspect of him.

Still, you had a mission. Rafayel didn't know it yet, but the moment you had caught a glimpse of him this morning, you knew what had to be done. His muffins needed to be squished. His plump little cushions had to be properly admired and worshipped. You would be the one to happily give them the attention they deserved. An ass sculpted by the gods themselves were staring at you literally all day.

You closed the door to his home slowly, turning over to him. He was already heading to the living room. You slowly stalked behind him, and he could feel you were up to no good.

"Something caught your interest? I know I look good, but not even you normally stare at me this much."

"I just think you look particularly handsome today is all." As does his ass. You couldn't say that yet though, he would realize what your plans were if you verbalized it too early. Like a cat stalking a mouse, you followed him until he was in the living room. The moment he was by the couch you took action.

You rushed behind him and pressed down on the small of his back, making him stumble forward. He grabbed the edge of the couch, his body hunched over. Rafayel turned just in time to watch you drop down to your knees. Then he felt your hands harshly gripping his ass. Then the quick slaps in succession followed as you began laughing maniacally.

"Finally!" You said as you grabbed at them again. Rafayel finally reacted, rolling onto the couch to get away from your hands. You were practically panting as your hands twitched, "Come on Raf, lemme just squeeze em again."

"You are a psychopath." He said, hiding his ass from your view.

"I'm your psychopath though." Despite how horrified Rafayel looked, he was also amused by your antics. He grabbed at your arm, making you fall forward and your chest pressing against his own. His hands went to grab at your ass this time, squeezing them and laughing.

"You know, I think I'm seeing the appeal of this." He commented, his hands lazily hitting your ass cheeks like you had to him, although he was far more calm about it.

"See, it's amazing...now can I go back to playing with your butt? I wasn't done yet."

"I think not...although this has given me an idea. Do you mind if I paint your backside?"

"You wanna paint on my ass?"

"Perhaps."

"...I'll agree if you let me eat your-" Rafayel had never cut you off so quickly.

"Never mind."

The most accurate representation of what we're doing to these poor men. I will not be silenced. Their asses need to be slapped. And ate

261 notes · View notes