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redheadspark · 3 months

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Lullaby

Summary - Azriel's mate gives birth, and Azriel's life is forever changed.

Author's note- I love the great response from the one-shot Trust, so I decided to write another little oneshot about Azriel, Reader, and little Alec on the day he was born! Enjoy

Azriel knew he was making tracks on the floor at this point, but there was no way he was going to stop now. His mind was racing and his feet were carrying him. Back and forth, back and forth. His shadows were even trying to catch up with him as he was thinking all of the worst things that could happen. The sun's early misting rain was outside the tall windows of The House of Wind, the howling wind from the tall mountains was heard sightly while Azriel was going back and forth in front of the tall windows. On a good day, there would be a marvelous view of Velaris, but not today.

Not on the day his wife went into labor.

A strangled cry was heard behind the double doors, Azriel stopping at his pace as he heard your cry of pain and his eyes trained on the doors. It’s been at least three hours since Madja arrived, bag in hand, and abruptly pushed Azriel out the door without a second glance. Azriel wanted to be in there with you, to hold your hand and bring you comfort since he knew you were going to be in insane pain. But then again, he would have to go against Madja who has had more medical and healing experience than anyone he has known in his life. All he could now was wait, wait for either the best or the worst.

He made a plan for this day, when you were about 7 months along he wanted to make a concrete plan for the birth of his unborn child. Others must have thought of him as insane since he had a detailed itinerary from where the birth would take place and with whom in attendance. It was working out perfectly for him since he knew most of the Inner Circle would be a simple contact away if things went left. Of course, Azriel wouldn’t want to think about the scenario if things might go wrong, but he had to since not everything would go according to plan.

Cassian and Nesta were on their honeymoon up in the mountains, and Elaine and Lucien were in Autumn Court, which left Rhysand, Feyre, and Nyx at the River House for some quality family time. You and Azriel were requested to housesit the House of Wind for Cassian and Nesta while they were away, you both not minding staying in the large home for a few days while you were getting slower and slower in your walking. As your stomach grew bigger by the day, Azriel’s worries for you were growing as well.

He knew the tales of Illyrian childbirth, how brutal it was, and how unmerciful it could be. Some children were born stillborn, their little bodies were not able to handle the birth. Many mothers died in childbirth, mainly because their bodies would give out from all the body would endure. Your own mother died giving birth to you, robbing you of your time and love from your birth mother. Azriel vowed to not let that happen to you, you were far too precious and too important for him to have taken away. Being the main source of light in his very dark world, you brought him bountiful happiness and never ending love that he felt as though he never deserved.

To think of a world without that love, without you, would kill Azriel.

Rhysand talked with him a week before, sensing that Azriel was beyond worried and scared for both you and your child. He sat Azriel down at your little home while you were napping, the pair of them sitting out on the front porch as Azriel was venting to him all that was on his mind. Although he knew it was his burden to hold onto, Rhysand was someone safe for him to talk to.

“You cannot let these thoughts overwhelm you, Az,” Rhysand said to him as he watched Azriel with concern, “Those demons and nightmares you’re having will kill you from the inside out if you let it. Your wife and child are going to be fine, and you will have your family,”

“How do you know?” Azriel asked in a mumble, Rhysand reaching over to tap his leg with his fingers. Azriel’s hazel eyes were met with violet ones, along with a soft smile.

“Because you and your wife, my cousin, deserve to have a family. You two deserve it more than anyone I know, and you will have it,”

Now you were in labor, your water breaking abruptly while you two were still sleeping in one of the guest rooms in The House of Wind, and Azriel could feel through the bond that you were struggling. He felt the pain, so intense and almost mind-numbing, as well as uncertainty and a hint of fear. It made him worry all the more, trying to communicate through the bond to you.

I’m here, baby. I’m here He thought through the bond, hoping and praying to The Cauldron that you were okay from the otherside of the double doors.

Azriel….It hurts so bad, Az! Your voice was in pain, almost struggling to speak as Azriel tried to remain calm.

The sudden sound of wings was heard right outside the window, Azriel’s head snapping over to see none other than Rhysand and Feyre bursting through the doors that lead to the balcony. He sighed in relief, seeing the High Lord and High Lady there for him and his wife.

“Azriel, thank The Cauldron! How is she doing?” Feyre asked, but another blood-curdling scream was heard from the room where you were in. This scream was brutal, almost like torture. Azriel squinted at the sound, it was almost painful for him too. All three of them look, Azriel’s face growing pale as Rhysand clasped his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Let’s get you a drink,” he urged Azriel, about to pull him away and distract him when another cry was heard. A new cry, smaller and yet distinct. It made everyone in the room freeze in shock, Azriel’s eyes went wide as he was staring at the doors.

It was the sound of a newborn baby.

Azriel’s heart was suddenly beating so fast that he felt it against his chest in a dull ache. His hands were shaking and felt beyond clammy as the newborn cry was echoing from the room, but to him, it was a beautiful sound. It was the sound of his child, coming into the world, was one of his new favorite sounds in the world.

“Cauldron..” Rhysand said in relief as one of the doors swung open abruptly.

“Shadowsinger, you better get in here!” It was Madja, and Azriel’s feet were moving before he realized. He was gliding over, that’s how fast he was going, and once he made it past the open door, he stopped in shock from the sight.

You were perched in the bed, bathed in sweat with your long thick hair in a braid that was over your shoulder and the nightgown you wore in plastered against your body as blankets were bunched against your stomach and covering you from the hips down. Towels were askew, some covered in blood, and others were perched in the massive tub of hot water that was near the bed. Azriel breathed in the scents of blood and sweat, seeing you faintly smile at him from the bed as Madja walked over to him with a bundle in her arms. His heart raced, his eyes were solely on the bundle that was wiggling.

“Here is your son,” Madja said to him as she placed the bundle in Azriel’s shaking arms. He lost his breath, looking at the small little being that was there and that was wiggling. Nothing else ceased to exist to him, nothing else was coming to his mind, and everything was blank and empty. All of his months of worry and wonder, of hope and uncertainty, were replaced by seeing the newborn.

His newborn. His son. Azriel had a son.

“You tend to him as I tend to your wife,” Madja said in a huff, walking away from Azriel before he could say anything to her. He tore his eyes away from his son to you, seeing you grimace a bit while Madja was digging through her bag that was on the nightstand. His concern grew.

“I-Is she alright?” He asked in a croak, about to walk over to you before Madja pulled out new herbs and tonics.

“Worn to the bone but healthy. You have a strong wife, Shadowinger, and your babe is just as strong as she is,” Madja explained as she mixed some herbs together with ease, “She’ll need to get clean and have plenty of rest, but nothing else to worry about.”

“Thank you, Madja,” you said in a breath as she handed you a concoction to drink. Azriel was relieved to know that you were safe and unharmed, feeling through the bond that you too were relieved and happy. His heart was filled from the sight of you alive, though he was interrupted by the gurgles and coos from his son. He tore his eyes from you back to your son.

He was so small in Azriel’s embrace, but he was instantly in love with the little boy. The tan skin, the dark mop of hair on his head, and the very small set of wings that were along the tiny backside. There was no blemish on the little one that Azriel could see, the round cheeks he had along with the eyelashes and the plump bell-shaped lips. Everything about this baby, this little being that was a mixture of Azriel and his mate, it was all perfect. Azriel never saw a more beautiful creature in his life, and he couldn’t help but feel fresh tears in his Spymaster orbs.

This moment was new etched in his mind, a massive and pure memory that he knew he would never forget in his lifetime. There were plenty of moments in his past, both good and bad, that he would remember from time to time. His softer memories with his mother, meeting Cassian and Rhysand for the first time, Seeing your blue eyes and falling in love with you, your first kiss together under the stars. Those memories were core to him, they helped him come out of the darkness and into the light that was always waiting for him.

And now, the new core memory of holding his newborn son would forever change him.

Azriel carefully traced his son’s cheek with one of his scarred fingers, seeing how instantly his son was calm and content from the touch of his father. It made Azriel’s heart soar, watching his son almost nuzzle into the touch with ease as Madja hummed and walked over to him with waiting hands.

“There, now let me have the babe and check him thoroughly. You tend to your wife and get her changed,” Madja instructed, Azriel reluctantly handing his son back over, “I’ll need to check his wings if they were damaged from the birth. But by the color of him and his cries, he seems to be healthy. “

With a heavy heart, Azriel moved away from his son and Madja, who walked over to the end of the bed that wasn’t messed with blankets. His eyes stayed on the child, though he moved over to you as you were waiting for him with an outstretched hand. Azriel took it, kissing the back of it and sighing in relief seeing color on your face and a grin to match.

“Thank Cauldron you’re alright,” he said in relief, sighing in your sweaty hair as he embraced you carefully on the bed. You held him close, breathing in his scent as he peppered your face with kisses and his tears hitting your cheeks, “I was thinking the worst…and I felt it in the bond,”

“It was worth it,” you sighed as he pulled away and watched you, “Every single amount of pain I felt was worth it…he was worth it all,”

You both heard the gurgles from your son, Madja checking his temperature and then looking over his limbs. Azriel could see the small wings that looked so fresh and new along the tan backside. They were so small, but he knew deep down that over time they would be massive and filled with strength.

Just like his parents.

“Come on, baby. Let’s get you a shower,” Azriel urged as he helped you swing your legs over the side of the bed. With an arm along your backside, he helped you on your feet. You were still sore, though it was slowly melting away thanks to both the tonics from Madja and your own Illyrian strength. You were still taking your time to the bathroom that was attached to the room, the House instantly turned on the shower with the right temperature and pressure.

Azriel helped you strip down and eased you into the shower first before he stripped down and joined you. Although intimate, given the two of you bare and holding one another under the water, it felt more than that for you two. It felt like another chapter was unfolding for you both Azriel was washing you down with gentleness and care, another stepping stone in your life that you both would take together while he washed your hair with his fingers. You felt his love in his fingers and along his lips as he kissed your skin, showering you with affection for not only giving him a son but for also not leaving him alone in this world.

You were part of his soul, as he was part of yours.

Finally, after getting you cleaned and changed into fresh clothes thanks to the magic of the House, Azriel changed quickly back into his old clothes and ushered you back into the bedroom. The old sheets and towels were gone, fresh sheets were made on the bed with new fluffy pillows and the window was ajar to bring in the fresh air. Madja once again was holding your swaddled newborn, a big smile on her face.

“You have a healthy babe,” She said as she walked over to place him in your arms. You took him softly, seeing how he was blinking slowly to show the bright blue eyes that he inherited from you. Seeing him there, in your arms, after being inside of you for so many months, it was almost like a fever dream. But he was there, breathing in the same air as you, and you felt your heart grow bigger from the sight of your son.

“There’s nothing wrong with him?” Azriel asked as you were still watching your son, seeing his eyes blink again as his finger clenched and unclenched in a constant rhythm.

“Nothing out of the ordinary for an Illyrian babe. He’s small, but the lungs on him tell me he’ll be just fine,” Madja explained while he was packing her bag up. She then pointed at you with a singular finger, “You are to rest here for one night, I don’t wish for you to put more stress on your body. You can head to your home tomorrow after I come and do a follow-up. Drink the tonics I gave you for the pain and the lotion for your skin,” She paused, holding her bag in hand as she gave you and Azriel a soft smile, “You two have a strong son, I pray blessings from the Cauldron for a happy life with him,”

You both thanked her as she slipped out of the room, you heard her talk to Rhysand and Feyre outside your room as you sank back onto the bed with your son snuggling close to you. You looked over every inch of him, the way his hair was thick and already showing some waves, his ears that seemed to be from you, even the cooling touch of his skin as you inhaled his sweet baby scent through your nostrils. You saw him yawn, being content in your arms as he was slowly closing his eyes and falling asleep within your embrace. The softness of his breathing and the morning wind filled the room, it all felt like you were dreaming as you watched your sleeping son and your husband at your side.

This was a dream that you never wanted to wake from.

“Sweet boy,” You cooed, reaching over to touch his smooth skin with a graze of your finger. Your son yawned, snuggled into the blanket a bit more still deep asleep as you grinned in pure happiness, “You’re simply perfect, aren’t you?”

“You’re perfect, baby,” Azriel hummed to you as he wrapped you in his arms, having you lean against him with ease and his nose grazing your freshly washed hair, “I’m insanely proud of you for bringing him into the world, for bringing us this gift,”

You smiled and looked up at him, seeing him with some fresh tears in his eyes as you leaned up to kiss his chin, “Look at the Shadowsinger being emotional,”

“I don’t care,” He shrugged, his scarred hand reached over to touch the blanket your son was swaddled in with pride in his tone, “I’m beyond happy with my family here, it’s all I need,”

To see your husband and mate in such a state, it made your heart swell tenfold. You knew deep down he had a heart, a massive one at that which would only be vulnerable to those who he was close to and considered his family. You saw it when you two were young and passionately in love with one another, and to see it evolve and strengthen over time seemed like an honor and privilege. And now it was happening all over again with your son now in your life.

A gentle knock was heard at the door, you both look over to see Rhysand and Feyre poking their heads in. They instantly saw your son, both of their eyes going big and massive grins on their faces.

“Can we come in?” Feyre asked, you nodding with a hint of excitement to show off your newborn. Both of them slipped in, closing the door behind them and walking over to be perched at the side of the bed where you and Azriel were. Feyre’s eyes were already misting, seeing your sleeping son and her warmth was radiating off her grin and gaze. Rhysand clasped Azriel on the shoulder with pride.

“He’s perfect,” Rhysand said to Azriel, then leaning over to kiss the top of your head lovingly, “Well done Cousin.”

“Thank you, Rhys,” You said to him as you then gestured to your sleeping son, “You want to hold him?”

Azriel watched with a soft grin as Rhysand took his son gently in his arms, already holding him perfectly since he had practiced with his own offspring. There was a look of pride on the High Lord’s face, scanning the little boy up and down with his own sense of love that he would share with his nephew. Feyre beamed as she stood and perched her head on his shoulder, looking at your son too.

“Oh, he’s simply beautiful,” Feyre said with a sigh before giving a small wink to Azriel, “Takes after his father no doubt,”

Azriel slightly blushed as he shook his head, “Thank you for the kind words, Feyre. But hIs eyes are of the bluest sky, just like his mother,”

“Still, a handsome boy and Illryian,” Rhysand said with his smile as he looked over at the pair of you, “No doubt he’ll be surrounded by love and support from his family.”

“I should hope so,” You teased, Rhysand rolled his eyes as you spoke again, “Considering he’s named after the High Lord who is holding him now,”

Both Feyre and Rhysand looked at you in shock, though you and Azriel were remaining calm. Of course, this was one of those topics that was between the pair of you, trying to think of names and never being able to settle on one thing since you didn’t know the gender. But you both knew one thing for certain: the middle name. It was going to be sacred and filled with meaning, coming from a special person to the pair of you.

Rhysand was more than just the High Lord of Night Court, he was your family and kept you close within arm’s reach. Even after he lost his own immediate family, he treated you as a sister and loved you dearly. To Azriel, Rhysand was a found brother and close friend, the family that took him in when his own family left them in ruins.

Rhysand saved you both, and you both owed your lives to him.

“We don’t know his first name yet, but his middle name will be Rhysand,” You explained as you saw some tears forming in Rhysand’s eyes, “We had to name him after the very High Lord who brought us both out of the darkness and made us feel loved when we didn’t.”

Feyre snuggled into Rhysand as he was grinning at you with tears in his violet eyes, but you knew that they were tears of joy. She kissed his cheek lovingly as Azriel made his way over to him and clasped his shoulder.

“You mean the world to us, you both do,” he said to Rhysand and Feyre, “And we owe our lives to you. Thanks to you, our son will know the true meaning of family, Rhys,”

As Feyre and Rhysand embraced Azriel, you were filled with content in how this day was unfolding and a new chapter beginning your life. It was all you and Azriel wanted: being surrounded by family with your new child finally in the world.

It was all you wanted and more

“There we are, much better, huh?”

Azriel closed the door behind him, his son whimpering in his hold as they were out on the small terrace. The night sky was clear and calm, the warm winds were enough to leave some of the windows open as the moon hung high in the open sky with a scattering of stars. The twinkling lights below from the city seemed to set the mood as Azriel stood out in the open with his son, who was watching his father with his newborn eyes.

Cassian and Nesta cut their honeymoon short after being contacted about the birth, coming back to the House of Wind an hour after Rhysand and Feyre gave the new family some time together. They too were excited to meet the new addition to the family, though Cassian teased in wishing for your next child to be named after himself. You blushed madly as Azriel gave him a playful glare, but Cassian threw up his hands.

“What? Fair is fair!”

Since you were restricted in staying in bed, you both were going to stay one more night before Madja would come back and clear you to go home. It was safer that way since you wanted to be at your best for both yourself and the baby, and after nursing him and having more time with your newborn, you were drowsy and you fell asleep. But before you could, you finally thought of a name that suited your son well.

Alec. Alec Rhysand.

Azriel took the helm in watching over Alec as you were resting and in a deep sleep, thinking it was the best time to have alone time with Alec while the rest of the world moved on around him. His mind was still on overdrive on all that happened that day, running on the last bit of energy he had but also energized at the same time with his son in his arms. There was still more to be done, but Azriel would think of those things later. At that moment, he wished to simply hold his boy close.

“You had a busy day,” Azriel hummed to Alec, seeing his son watch him with his bright eyes as Azriel kept talking, “Coming into this world screaming your head off. You had to make your mark that way, didn’t you?”

Azriel had to chuckle from how serious Alec was looking at him, the moonlight bathed on his skin and illuminating his bright eyes some more. Azriel saw his mate in those eyes, a familiar sense of home was set in his gut as he reached over to tuck the blanket in a bit more around his son.

“I hope you know how loved you are,” He explained to Alec, swaying a bit back and forth as the warm wind came again, “I’m sure you do. Not just by me and your mother, but by the rest of your family. And I vow to you, Alec Rhysand, to always love you and show you how much I love you every day for as long as I’m alive and breathing,”

Azriel thought about his mother then, seeing her face in his mind and missing her all the more. He wished she was still alive, away from all that pain that was around her but never diminished her kindness and gentleness. He wondered how his mother would feel about Alec if she would love him and be happy to have a grandson. It saddened him that he would never know, but he didn’t want to dwell on it too much.

“You will never have to be afraid,” Azriel softly spoke to Alec, who was wiggling a bit in his blankets, “Nothing in this world or any other world will harm you, not while I’m here. Anything you wish to do, whatever path you choose to take, your mother and I will be behind you,”

He could only picture and dream what his life would be like, what kind of Illyrian Alec would grow up to be. Would he be wise? Or perhaps a strong soldier. It never mattered to Azriel, not when he knew deep down that Alec would have a bright future. He would strike down any foe or enemy that would dare to harm his mate or son since they both were his world now. First, it was his mate, his sole source of love and joy that he never wished to withdraw from.

And now it was his son, making his heart expand and grow.

Azriel’s finger moved up to tuck in the blanket once more, though Alec’s small and delicate hand grabbed his finger before he could do it. It made Azriel freeze like a statue, seeing the small hand cling to his one finger like a lifeline. The pristine and soft hand against a scarred finger is such a contrasting thing to witness. But Azriel felt like he was under some kind of spell from the touch of his son, simply feeling his hand around his finger and feeling how tight Alec was holding onto him,

Almost silently telling his father he needed him.

So Azriel hummed, a lullaby he remembered when he was a young boy in need of love. The same lullaby his mother sang to him as a babe, both haunting and beautiful at the same time. Azriel recalled that little song driving the nightmares away, making the shadows that would plague his mind disappear like mist in the morning sky. He remembered the feeling of being held by his mother, the sweet scent of her hair, the soft tenor of her voice as she would sing to him.

Before he knew it, Alec was fast asleep, nuzzling into the blanket he was tucked tight in, but his hand was still gripping Azriel’s finger. But Azriel didn’t have the heart to stop singing or stop swaying, even as his son was in deep sleep with a content look on his infant face. He simply let the lullaby go on, floating into the night sky and around him as his constant swaying was therapeutic for him. If need be, he would stay out there for hours and hours on end just to keep his son happy and content. He would do anything for his son at this point, and he felt no shame for it.

He was too occupied to notice that you woke up from your slumber, pulling on a robe to watch your mate and son by the window with a massive grin on your face.

The End

tagged - @valeridarkness @impossibelle

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #Azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #azriel spymaster #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #fanfiction #writing

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dolliestfairy · 9 months

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𝅄ֹ ׅ𔓘 Tw : Noncon/Dubcon, Prude kink, Virgin killer, this man is an imposter lol. Innocent ruined, Male masturbation, yandere...(?) idk. lmk if i miss anything 𝅄ֹ ׅ♡ mdni | chubby reader fics with no skintone of reader mentioned ༊ೀ

thinking about sweet!best friend who is secretly is an easily jealous and is a really possessive person over his chubby!prude. sweet!best friend who has this dark dreams about you and your 'innocence' that he will soon ruin. sweet!best friend who acts normal but when the lights are off and you're not looking, his hands is wandering around his cock, thrusting it while he drown his own thoughts into your whimpers and moans. sweet!best friend who ask you to go out with him at midnight alone, and little did you know, that was the last time you have your innocent left. sweet!best friend who ask you to go to a night club where there is a such unholy scene such as sex that will completely ruin your entire brains. as he sees you while he seduce you to at thoughts to do something sinful. he then pulled you into a quiet spot and start making out with you. kissing you there and then and also exchanging each other saliva while his hands wandering around your ass. but when the thing start to get real he then let you off and go somewhere leaving you alone with no reason at all. turns out; it was all a plan of his sick mind. he try to make you horny for him and make you willing to let him fuck you without making him looked like a desperate person. as he wait in his apartement where his door bell is ringing only to find you wet and desperate. until he pull you in into his apartement, slowly but surely start to take each other clothes, where he compliments your whole stretchmarks and espesially your fat fucking pussy. he has been waiting for too long for this moment, and now he wont let that moment slip. as his hand roughly grab your plump thighs and placed it into his shoulder as he carries you, while his other hand start to place his cock into your unguard pussy while you and him start kissing each other again. and right at that moment where he would destroy all the things you dont know about, all the innocents you had left within your faith and soul, is all gone. in the hand of your trusted best friend without you seemed to realize it yourself that he have been ruined it all. and soon enough, he'll be more than a best friend to you.

Those Sweet!best friends are;

GETO SUGURU, KUROO TETSURO, Tsukishima kei, Shibura, Itoshi Sae, SUGAWARA, Lev Haiba, OIKAWA TOORU, Tendou, Kyoutani, Megumi, Toji, Gojo Satoru, Alec, Deidara, Sasori, kakuzu, PAIN, SHIGARAKI, Choso, Shiva, Qin Shi Huang, MAHITO, DOUMA, & Enmu.

did i forget anyone??? insert ur fav!

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gatorbites-imagines · 7 months

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Kinktober day 1

Alec Lightwood + Praise Kink

Happy first day of kinktober everyone. I’ve got a lot more schoolwork this year (curse you psychology) but ill be doing my best to try and keep up with my posting.

I’m gonna be honest I haven’t watched Shadowhunters in a long time, but Alec and Magnus still mean a lot to me. So, this is super vague about background stuff, cuz I can’t remember any of the plot from the show or books.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Alec found himself sighing as he leaned back in the chair behind his desk, his hand reaching up to rub at his aching temples. He took his duty very seriously, but at times it could do nothing but cause pains and aches throughout his body and psyche. Not only that, but his work kept him apart from you, sometimes for days or even weeks at a time. Alec had known at the time when he gained his rank that this work would fill much of his life, but now that he had finally found his way to you, it almost didn’t feel worth it.

Alec sighed softly as he got out of his seat, there was no reason to keep working any more tonight. At this point he had stared at those reports enough that he was seeing double, and the thought of your shared bed was like an angel’s call. With that in mind, the shadowhunter found himself almost floating to your shared room, a new edition to your relationship. Neither of you even had much time to spend in this room, as you were both important people in your circles and both took your duties seriously.

It was because of this that Alec didn’t even think about you being present when he entered the dimly lit room, his eyelids heavy and half shut as he pulled off his clothes robotically, folding it up neatly and placing it off to the side to go in the laundry in the morning. It was only when he fell onto the bed, now only clad his boxers, that he noticed the second presence in the room. He almost jolted up with shock, but your arm wrapped warmly and securely around his waist, pulling your lover close as you nuzzled into the back of his stiff neck.

“there’s my pretty boy” you rumble, your voice thick with sleep but also the love and admiration you have for Alec. Alec only allows himself to huff a little, feeling embarrassed at your sweet words. He had never gotten used to being complimented or praised, so when you peppered sleepy kisses on his neck and mumbled about his beautiful, he was and how strong he was, the shadowhunter felt himself grow hotter in the face.

“Look at you, all tense” you huff, your warm hands running up and down the planes of Alecs torso as you hook your chin over his shoulder, your thumbs rubbing just below his pecs, the action causing him to twitch and exhale sharply. “Always working so hard for everyone, but you never take care of yourself” you mumble, your lips pressed to the side of his neck. You can’t help but nibble on the skin there, letting your tongue flatten against the rune on his neck.

“Guess that’s why you have me, isn’t it” you almost tease, your hands finally grabbing his tight pecs in your palms, giving him a loving squeeze, making your sensitive lover whine. “Always such a diligent, good boy, aren’t you?” you croon, giving both of his nipples a quick pinch and twist, enjoying the punched-out noise that leaves Alec at the action. You had always loved how sensitive he was, and how easily you could work him up with just a few touches and sweet words.

“My good boy” you purr, hands traveling down his torso at a snail’s pace, almost in a worshipping manner as you feel out every shape that makes up his body, basking in the shaky way he breaths and how he can’t seem to keep his legs still. “My pretty boy” you hum, your thumbs teasing at the elastic of his underwear, an almost catlike smirk on your lips as you let your lover stew in the need and want running through his tired body.

“Just lay back Alec, ill take care of you” you mutter, using your grip to pull him further against your chest, your hips grinding into his own from behind. Alec shakily exhales but seems to melt in your arms, his muscles untensing as you fold his boxers down under his sack, releasing his hardness to the darkness of your shared room.

“Ill always take care of you. Because you are so good, and so beautiful. So smart, and so considerate of everyone around you” you keep mumbling, one of your hands wrapping around where Alec craves you the most. The noise that leaves him sounds drawn out and almost painful, like he had wanted you to touch him for so long. There isn’t a need for lube, as you don’t have to do much to work Alec how he needs it, at the moment he doesn’t need anything wild, he just needs your touch and presence.

The loose grip you have around him and the lazy way you stroke him is enough to have Alec twitching and jolting, his mouth open as he gasps and whimpers, words long gone from his person as he arches his hips into your hand. How you feel about him is impossible to express in words, so you keep laying every compliment you can think of on him as you kiss and suck at his neck and shoulder.

His keens rise in volume, his voice wobbly and almost hoarse as he begs in broken words. “Go on baby. Good boy, come on, be good and give it to me” you rumble, reaching up with your free hand to give one of his nipples a rough pinch and twist. Its all Alec needs to finish, his hips jolting almost painfully into your hand as his essence spills across the sheets in thick white stripes, painting your black sheets in a different shade.

You barely are able to withdraw from his back before Alec is asleep, the exhaustion of the multiple days of nonstop work and the euphoria of his orgasm knocking him out cold. With a soft chuckle, you kiss his temple and start cleaning up, moving him around to change him out of his underwear into a new pair, and getting new sheets on the bed. As you cuddle against his back again, this time under the sheets, you smile softly to yourself as you kiss the back of his neck. “I love you so much, my sweet boy” you whisper before shutting your eyes, burying your face into his hair, and inhaling his scent, letting the familiar scent carry you off into the land of sleep.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #shadowhunters #alec lightwood #male reader #shadowhunters imagine #shadowhunters headcanon #shadowhunters x male reader #shadowhunters x reader #alec lightwood imagine #alec lightwood headcanon #alec lightwood x male reader #alec lightwood x reader #alexander lightwood imagine #alexander lightwood headcanon #alexander lightwood x male reader #alexander lightwood x reader

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lieutnt · 5 months

Text

i promised i would post this so enjoy a half-baked fic/drabble i sent to alec at 2am

john price x werewolf!male reader cw: piss kink (just a little), possessiveness

Werewolf!Reader joining the 141, and with you comes a guidebook about having a werewolf on the team. It’s given to Price and he decides to read through it, most of it obvious stuff that he could have guessed but something sticks out to him, a section that reads ‘As the bond between a Werewolf and its pack mates (the soldiers it serves with) grows, some have shown a tendency to become possessive over their territory and those within it.’ It has Price slightly concerned, and since he’s inexperienced with dealing with werewolves he calls you into his office to discuss it.

He asks you to clarify what this ‘possessiveness’ can mean - for your territory and your pack mates. Before you can stop yourself you make a joke, “I’m not gonna be pissing anywhere other than the toilet if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Price is confused at first until you explain the joke about werewolves marking their territory and warning other werewolves away. It makes something flutter through Price and he dismisses you, except the thought of others like you being able to smell your claim on him has his pants growing tighter, thighs squeezing together and suddenly he’s finding it hard to sit still.

Cut to however long of working together and the relationship between you is way passed soldier and commanding officer - not only is Price yours, you are his. Every so often the thought of what he read in that guidebook floats through his mind, especially when on certain days you’re attached to his hip but he never acts on it, not until one day another team with a werewolf is temporarily staying on base. Full preparations are made, keeping you and the other werewolf apart as much as possible to try and prevent any unnecessary tension, the 141 is very clearly your pack and Price doesn't want the headache if something happens.

Price still has a duty as Captain to interact with the other team, and when he comes back to his room (that you’ve practically moved into), you’re instantly on him, huffing at his scent and pulling away in disgust when you catch whiffs of the other werewolf on him.

You rectify that quickly, stripping him of his clothes and scenting yourself on his body, fucking him until he’s sure his insides are moulded to you. When you carry him to the shower and his brain is still rebooting the question slips out, Price asking if marking your territory is true. You don’t give an immediate answer, Price finally turning to you to see the way your eyes are focused on him, and just by your breathing he can tell you’re interested.

As the water switches on Price hides his face in your chest and mumbles how he wouldn’t mind if you marked him like that. His face burns with embarrassment as he waits for your answer, mind running wild with thoughts on if he’s pushed too far when your grip on him tightens and you press him against you, mouth dropping to his ear to tell him to get on his knees.

He does, looking up at you as if he was praying at an altar as you grip your cock and aim towards his kneeling body, nothing happening for a few seconds until he feels the warm stream hitting his chest and trickling down to between his thighs. Despite how eagerly you fucked him earlier his cock makes a valiant effort to harden again, and by the time you’re finished you’re both hard again. You fuck him multiple more times in the shower, being able to smell yourself so clearly on Price sending you haywire.

The next day you manage to catch the moment the other werewolf attempts to approach Price and stumbles over his feet, quickly turning around and walking away. Price stands confused for a few seconds until his cheeks and the tips of his ears start to turn pink as he realises what just happened.

#john price #john price x male reader #male reader #top reader #top male reader #call of duty #lieutnts drabbles #lieutnts writings

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entitled-fangirl · 2 months

Text

Two idiots in love. (P10)

Joel Miller x anemic!reader

Summary: the reader gets taken by David. And Joel will do anything to get her back.

Warnings: bruises, creepy comments, kidnapping, manipulation, name-calling, cursing

Author's note: I think 3 updates in one day is enough lmao

Masterlist

Part 1 and 11

.............................................................

Y/N woke up with a labored breath.

In fact, all of her breaths were harsh and painful.

And now that she had truly came to her senses, she couldn't remember taking her medication since Jackson.

She left her medication in Jackson.

"I started worrying you wouldn't wake up."

She sat up slowly, now realizing she was laying on cold tile in a fenced in area of the room.

And she knew that voice.

David.

She hummed, trying to collect her thoughts.

Her shivering frame no longer had her winter coat.

Her torso was just left in a tank top and Joel's flannel.

She finally managed to look up at David.

He smiled, "Tess… is it?"

Her eyebrows furrowed. "…Tess?"

He shook his head, "Apparently not." He held up the piece of paper again, "…Y/N?"

She couldn't stop the small instinctual light up of her eyes.

He smiled again, "There she is… pretty Y/N."

In David's hands was Bill's note to Joel. She remembers Joel keeping the paper, and it must have ended up in her backpack.

"So, is Tess the girl?"

"Stop saying that fucking name."

His eyebrows rose, "Alright. Touchy subject." He set the paper down, "I just want to get to know you. Understand you? Is that alright?"

"L…Let me out."

"Well, that's certainly the goal." She saw him grimace, "Sorry for that bruising. Can't imagine it feels nice. I talked to James about it, and I truly apologize on his behalf."

The struggle to breathe.

It was the bruising on her neck from her attempted escape.

"Are you hungry?"

"Wh…why am I in a cage?"

David shrugged, "Have you ever had a pet bird, Y/N? You have to make sure it'll stay before you let it out. Otherwise, it may fly away-"

"-Fuck you."

"Or," he continued more harshly, "More realistically, a dog. You're wild. But don't worry. We'll domesticate you. Make you obedient and respectful. Let you eat the scraps off of the table. The others want to kill you. But I saved you. I can help you. Let me protect you."

She shook her head, "We both know I'm not really on my own."

"Right," he nodded, "your family. Your husband, how is he?"

"He's not my fucking husband."

"Well, I can see how much you care about him, so I know it hurts. But that part of your life, it's ending. And what I'm offering you is a beginning. But if you can't find a way to trust me, then yes. You are alone."

Y/N let out a breath, pushing herself against the wall.

"Can I ask about that?" David asked.

"About what?" She replied coldly.

"That bruise on your arm. Is that… from him?"

A bruise in the shape of Joel's fingers laid around her wrist in a deep purple. It was from cleaning his wound only yesterday, and at the time, she didn't think anything of it.

She looked up at him.

"I see." He said, "You know, people that love you- truly love you- they don't hurt you."

"How the fuck would you know about love?"

"Well, I wouldn't hurt you, Y/N."

"The same bruises are on my neck."

"Those are from James. Not me. I would never hurt you. I think you're beautiful. And beauty is meant to be treasured."

"Joel wouldn't hurt me. He's not like that."

David scoffed, "Did you see what he did to Alec at the university? Snapped his neck. You think he wouldn't do that to you?"

"No. He wouldn't." She reasoned.

"Be serious with yourself, Y/N. That man is dangerous and cruel. You deserve someone kind and protective."

"And you think that person is you?" She scoffed.

He let out a laugh, "Of course, I wish the pretty girl likes me. Who wouldn't? But, I think that's up to you to decide."

And he left her alone with her thoughts.

…

Joel was livid.

He could barely see through the red that clouded his vision.

In the scheme of things, they had somehow taken Ellie, too.

And Joel didn't like it when people touched his things.

He continued to punch the man taped to the chair.

"Please," the man pleased, "I don't know any woman."

Joel stabbed a blade through the man's knee.

"Marco-"

"No, no, no, no" Joel said softly, "He can't help you. You focus right here. Or I'll pop your fuckin' kneecap off."

The man took a deep breath, "She's alive."

Joel nodded, "Where?"

When the man wouldn't answer, Joel twisted the man's kneecap with his bare hands.

"Fuck, fuck! The town!"

"WHAT TOWN?!" Joel yelled.

"..S…Silver Lake."

Joel pulled out a map, setting it on the man's lap.

The same map Y/N had used in Bill's truck.

"It's not a real town name," the man said out of breath, "It's a resort."

"A resort?"

Joel sighed and pulled the blade from the man's knee, shoving the handle of it in the man's mouth harshly.

"You're gonna point to where we are, and where your "resort" is. And it better be the exact same spot you buddy over there points to."

The man did as Joel commanded, then he spit the blade out, "Go ask him. He'll tell you. I'm not lying."

Joel nodded, then shoved the knife into the man's stomach with no mercy.

The other man held hostage yelled out at the violent act. "Why did you do that? He told you what you wanted! I won't tell you SHIT!"

"That's okay," Joel said calmly as he walked to him and grabbed a bat, "I believe him."

Joel swung the bat with no remorse.

…

Y/N was sat on the floor in a panic.

A human fucking ear laid on the ground not too far from her cage.

They were cannibals.

David came in with a plate, setting it on the ground and sliding it to the hungry woman.

But the last thing she could do was eat after seeing what laid on the ground.

He noticed her gaze and followed it, then looked back with a clenched jaw, "For what it's worth, this is just deer meat. I swear."

She let out a small cry, "Are you gonna fucking eat me?"

"I'd rather not."

"How… how could you do this?"

"There are only a few of us that know." David said, "but, I would've told you. Sooner or later."

She let out another small cry.

"It was a last resort. You think this doesn't shame me?"

She sniffled lightly and looked up at him.

David grinned slightly at the eye contact, "Your friend is no different. Didn't he take another man's life to save yours?"

"He…he was defending himself."

"No, he was defending you."

Her eyes left his as she took in his words.

"Can I tell you something? Be honest with you, Y/N? I'm just a shepherd tending to my sheep. And all I want… is someone to share it with. A friend."

"What about my friend?"

He nodded, "I can tell the others to stop looking for him. They'll spare him."

"W…what?"

"If he leaves us in peace, they will just let him go. They do what I tell them to do."

"What about my daughter?"

He smiled, "About that…"

Her heart dropped, "Where is my girl, you sick fuck?"

"JAMES!"

James walked in with Ellie in tow. Her hands were tied behind her back and she fought against the man's movements until she saw Y/N.

David smiled, "A happy reunion, indeed."

Y/N stood and approached the bars as close as she could to Ellie. "Ellie! Are… Jesus, are you alright?"

Ellie nodded.

"Let her go, David. She didn't do anything. I'm the adult here. Blame me. Just… let her go, please. Don't touch her."

The preacher sighed, "Well, I really want to, sweetheart. But… I have to domesticate the dog, remember? So, I take something that the dog loves, like…. Ellie, you said?… and I dangle her in front of the dog's nose. The dog will now do anything I say to ensure it gets what it wants."

"I'm not a dog, David."

He smiles, "No…?"

James pulls on Ellie's hair, making her cry out.

"STOP IT!" Y/N yells, "STOP! Fine! I'll do anything. Anything, please. Don't touch her!"

"C'mere then."

She approached where David stood on the other side of the bars.

His hand wandered to her cheek.

It made her remember Joel's touch.

But they were nothing alike.

David smiled, letting his voice drop to in intimate volume due to the proximity, "And now, the pretty bitch bows to her master."

He turns around, "Put the girl in there."

When Ellie is thrown into the cage, Y/N immediately takes her in her arms.

They watch the men leave the room.

"Where are you hurt?!" Y/N asked frantically.

Ellie shakes her head, "I'm fine. Just… scared."

"And Joel?"

Ellie shrugs, "I heard voices, so I did what I could to lead them from the house. Got the horse shot. I'm sorry."

She shakes her head, "I don't give a shit about the horse. You're okay, and that's all the matters."

…

A few hours later, the two found themselves a little more relaxed.

David had left them alone for the last 4 hours.

"Y/N?" Ellie asked. "I have something to confess…"

The woman nods, "Okay."

"It's really bad…."

"Bad as in… you killed someone? That's not exactly considered bad anymore."

"No…I… I read the note."

Y/N froze. "What note?"

"The one Joel left for you in Jackson."

Y/N didn't know what to say, "How… when did you… Ellie…?"

"I saw it when I went to the bathroom before we left. I just… I don't know. Part of me hoped that Joel had left it for me. I understand why he left one for you, but…. I couldn't help myself. And I'm sorry for reading it."

"It's fine, Ellie. Really."

Silence.

"Did you want to know what it said?"

"Well," Y/N shrugged, "that depends. Is it something I have to know?"

Ellie considered the question, then shook her head.

"Okay then. Is it something I'd want to know?"

Ellie immediately nodded.

"Hmm. Would this information change what I have with Joel? And with you?"

Ellie frowned in thought, then nodded, "Yeah. Big time."

Y/N sighed, "Well, I don't care then. I like what I have with you and Joel. I don't want to change it. I'd rather live life not knowing anything and having you two, then to know everything in the world and live without Joel and my daughter."

Ellie let out a shuddered breath at her response.

"Joel also said he loves you."

Y/N's head shoots up, "…what?"

"I won't get into details but… it was all mushy about how much he loves you and how you ground him… all the shit he'll never say out loud."

Y/N nodded. "I see. I hope Joel is out there looking for us then."

"Me, too."

If only they knew.

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Tags: @lover-of-books-and-tea, @pedropascalfan221, @lottieellz101, @bambisweethearts, @hiroikegawa, @elliaze, @littleshadow17, @n7cje

#fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel miller #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #the last of us hbo #tlou fanfiction #tlou

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morrieandlicky · 6 months

Text

Sweet Moments Between Maurice and Alec That You Have Not Seen Before (From E.M. Forster's 1st Draft for Maurice)

Context: Forster's first version of Maurice, finished in 1914, has a rather different ending than the final published version (no hotel scene, and no boathouse reunion). See here.

Forster's first draft for Maurice is, in my opinion, the rawest in terms of boldly displaying the love shared between Maurice and Alec. This version shows much more of Alec's emotion and tenderness, as well as of Maurice's sentiments and affection towards Alec. It is definitely not as subtle as the final version, with quite a few straightforward declarations of love.

Hence, I'm disappointed that Forster did not manage to integrate at least some of these 1914 texts into the final version: it would've made the love between Maurice and Alec much more pronounced and convincing, as well as made Alec a character with more depth and feelings.

Having read Forster's first draft for Maurice, I share below some of these moments between Maurice and Alec that are not in the final version (ordered on how lovely I think each moment is. Bolded texts are the highlights).

1. After running into Mr. Ducie in the museum and Maurice bursting out to Alec.

M: "I'd possibly have blown out my own brains."

A: "Why?" he asked, stopping dead.

M: "I should have known by that time that I loved you."

A: "You can't, sir, you couldn't."

M: "I love you, sir be damned."

A: "Maurice"—never before had the word been spoken—"you're an angel."

M: "I don't want to hear that."

A: "Maurice, Maurice" his voice failed also; he had once said the rest to a woman. "Maurice - what you've said I feel. Understand?"

M: "I think so, but I want to be sure. Remember those rose bushes in the other rain? - Look at me hard - That's right. That'll do. It's settled." (Maurice is referring to the moment when Alec ran in the rain across the rose bushes at Penge just to see Maurice's face.)

2. The conversation after Maurice refuses to stay the night with Alec—a scenario that only happens in the first draft in 1914. Be prepared for tears.

A: "Come just for a little to me."

M: "If I came it would be for ever."

A: "Ever's the best."

M: "Why, man, you sail Thursday."

Alec found no answer.

...: here's when Maurice explains in a long paragraph why they can't be together because of their class difference and the fact that they're both men. But in this long paragraph Maurice pretty much brings up wanting to marry Alec—"We can't have the particular thing we want (which is roughly speaking marriage) unless we sacrifice something else"

M: I thought from that letter of yours you might want me to come. But, Alec, come where to?"

A: "I'd know if you weren't a gentleman," Alec said. "We'd a' found work together as mates."

M: "Yes, and if you were a gentleman, I'd take you this minute to my home.

A: "I'd a' been what young Clive was to you, then."

M: "He's a saint and we aren't. Leave out him."

A: "I'd a' been yours till death, then." ("I would've been yours till death, then")

M: "Out there if you get a chance to marry, take it. That's what I wish.

A: "Maurice, what'll you do without me, dear? Have you no other friends?"

Maurice dared not look forward to his own future. He rushed on the parting.

M: "And if there's ever a child, I shan't ever have that, so remember me."

A: "I'll remember you, child or none. God bless you. O God bless you, and be with you if I can't."

3. Right after Maurice puts his hand on Alec's back in the museum

"Yes, awfully serious," remarked Maurice, and rested his hand on Alec's shoulder, so that the fingers touched the back of the neck, doing this merely because he knew that he loved Alec, that he loved him not as a second Dickie Barry, but deeply, tenderly, for his own sake, beneath weakness and vulgarity.

4. In the museum, Alec in pain and acting cute

[Alec] had bitten his lip, his eyes were red too; face and body were cramped with pain.

M: "Alec -"

A: "Alec am I?"

M: "I'm sorry I used that other name of yours."

A: "Don't speak to me," he growled, "let me go, you calling me Alec when I"

M: "Did you give me away then on purpose?"

A: "You're correct.

M: "Was it to get money - or only to do me harm?"

A: "I couldn't say."

M: "Come, let's get away where we can finish our talk."

A: "What? What do you say?"

M: "Come along, Alec."

A: "Do you call me that still?"

M: "Come away, man, don't break down for God's sake...." He took hold of [Alec's] arm. The touch was not reminiscent; it hinted at a relation to come.

A: "Oh but you must, I want it." Alec yielded.

5. Maurice at night thinking about Alec's letter

He tried to forget the treacherous letter, but it stole back to his mind, and he suffered most during moments in bed, when it masqueraded as a real love letter, and offered him the completeness that Clive enjoyed with Anne.

(This is brilliant writing because we, as readers, know that Alec's letter is a love letter, yet Maurice's "muddles" prevent him from seeing it as a love letter, and it is only at night, when he's craving Alec's presence, that he's able to allow himself to see the truth and succumb to his feelings for Alec.

Here, again, is also a suggestion of Maurice wanting to marry Alec, like how Clive married Anne)

6. One version of Maurice's and Alec's first night together

A: "Good evening - sir, said the low voice. Was you wanting something? Couldn't you sleep?" It was the gamekeeper.

On your rounds? gasped Maurice, trying to sound natural, and felt corduroys. Their touch disconcerted him. Whither was he tending from Clive into what companionship?

A: "Just wait till I've set down my gun - eh aren't you trembling?"

M: "So are you - ah don't."

A: "Don't you like that?"

M: "I don't know."

A: "Christ you're fussy. Don't you like me to touch you."

M: "That's you lad."

A: "Yes."

Side notes: hopefully these will shut all the detractors (of the relationship between Maurice and Alec) up—namely Clive apologists, Clive+Maurice shippers, and all of those dark academia classist out there.

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frannyzooey · 2 months

Text

The Date

Marcus Moreno x f!college student, The Secret Universe

Rating: E, age gap, heavy daddy kink y'all -- they are exploring it together ❤

A/N: all the thanks in the world goes to @the-scandalorian who reassures me every time I am worried the smut is not hitting -- your comments in the doc keep me going. thank you ❤ a special dedication to @swiftispunk who was really brave earlier this week and not only inspired me with that bravery, but also deserves a treat for it ❤

The door of the coffee shop swings open, cold air skimming across your back. Shifting your chair to angle yourself away from it, you glance down at your phone as it rings.

Marcus

Swiping right, you answer.

“Hi,” you grin.

“Hey, baby.”

His low voice flowing syrupy warm and deep into your ear, you play with the edge of a notebook page, still smiling.

“What’s up?”

“I’m at work, so I don’t have long, but I was calling to see what you’re doing this weekend. I’m free, and I was hoping you might be too?”

“Marcus Moreno. Are you asking me out on a date?” you tease.

You hear a low chuckle through the phone, and you press your finger over your earbud to drown out the espresso machine in the background.

“Yea I am, smart alec.” His scolding is laced with paternal endearment, and you smile wider. “I was thinking I’d pick you up tomorrow night after work?”

“Sure.”

“I gotta run into this meeting,” he says, and you can almost see him hurrying through the hallways, checking his watch. “But pack an overnight bag, okay? And put something pretty in there for me. I’m gonna take you to dinner.”

“Something pretty, huh? Kinda demanding, aren’t you?”

A small smile curls at the edge of your mouth and you can hear him match it with his own when he huffs a laugh, picturing the way his eyes crinkle at the corners with fondness.

“There’s this hotel I always pass on the way up north, with a dinner place underneath. I made a reservation for us.”

You shift in your seat, feeling almost shy. The premeditated planning and the thoughtfulness behind the idea makes you feel cherished, and for a reason you can’t fully explain, feminine. Delicate, meant to be taken care of. This grown man, thinking of you while he’s at the office, making plans to be with you later. Asking you to wear something pretty, just for him.

“That sounds perfect,” you reply. “I’ll pack tonight.”

“Great,” he answers.

His voice slips into something more hushed, as if he’s stepped to the side of a doorway before heading into a meeting room. “I’ll be thinking about you until I see you. Been thinking about you since I booked the room.”

So open with his affection, something stirs deep about the sweet sentiment of the words paired with their true meaning. With what you know he’s been thinking about.

“Oh yea? Anything you want to share with me now, over the phone?”

He lets out a soft, good humored groan. “I wish, baby. I wish I could.”

The sound of his voice coils something deep in your belly, warming you from the inside out. It’s always so overwhelming when he calls you and you have your earbuds in – especially when he lets out those soft groans. Made even more intimate due to the fact that your relationship is still a secret, it makes the low tone of his voice that’s just for you all the more arousing.

“Tell me on the drive up there?” you ask sweetly.

He lets out a slow breath into the receiver, and you close your eyes for a moment.

“Oh believe me, I will. Gotta run though. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You say your goodbye and hang up, your assignment forgotten as you stare out the window with a far away, content expression.

Taking a sip of your latte, you slide into a daydream: an image of him driving, the way his blue dress shirt pulls tight across his shoulders. Him checking into a hotel room, with the sort of casual confidence it requires. The soft brace of his hand on your back as he guides you through the carpeted hallways, the soft click of the door behind you.

Taking another sip of your drink, the images roll on from there; the coffee shop humming with life around you.

–

“Wow,” you say, walking into the room. Turning to him, you give him a shy smile. “Pretty fancy.”

“Yea, it’s not bad, huh.”

He tosses his key card on the dresser, placing your overnight bag down next to it. Clicking on the lamp, he bathes the room in warm, inviting light. The furnishings are understated but luxurious, the king sized bed enormous and lush. The sight of a single bed in the room sends warmth through the cradle of your hips and down, and a rolodex of images flashes quickly through your mind: crisp sheets, sweat slick skin, his broad, bare shoulders hooked under your knees.

His words interrupt your fantasy. “I thought I could let you get ready, and I’ll go down and get us a table? Order us a drink?”

It’s never been this way with anyone else. Something that drew you in from the first time you met him, he’s always been so caring and attentive. Always anticipating the situation and making a clear plan for it, always considering your desires and putting them first. Never to the detriment of his own, but rather alongside his. Because he likes it. Because he can’t help doing it. Like it’s second nature, after spending so many years as a single dad.

Still, every time he offers to do something before you ask, you find yourself touched. So considerate and thoughtful – while booking you a room with the clear intention of doing something depraved in it.

“Don’t take long, okay?” he says, stepping closer. His hands curl around your hips, and you turn to fully face him. Letting your touch find his firm chest, you splay your fingers over the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, warm with his body heat.

“I won’t,” you promise.

Leaning in, he presses a gentle kiss to your mouth, one you chase when he pulls away. Studying your face closely for a moment, his expression softens.

“You know, you can say it here if you want.”

Immediately understanding what he’s referring to, you swallow, vulnerability spreading across your features.

“I want you to,” he softly encourages.

You bite your bottom lip for a moment, hesitating. You haven’t said it since that night in his guestroom, but the memory of it has brought you to release more than once. The word has echoed in your mind for weeks; his lust-soaked groan after you said it fills your mind every time you close your eyes.

The definitive statement of his encouragement gives you courage as he meets you halfway with a vocalization of his own secret want. A seemingly large leap to take, you know he’ll catch you when you fall – he always does.

“Okay,” you agree.

His expression so achingly soft yet with an undercurrent of lust hidden in the depths of his dark eyes, he leans in again, skimming his nose across your cheekbone with a featherlight brush. His hands gently tug your hips closer, and his mouth finds the soft hollow beneath your ear. Pressing a kiss there, he gives you another, and another, his tongue tasting your skin.

Your head lolls to the side, and your eyes slip shut, focusing on the plush, warm give of his mouth.

“Say it,” he whispers, and you melt into him, a heavy ache pooling inside you.

You focus on the wet glide of his tongue and the solid sturdiness of his body in your grip, and the word comes pouring out of your mouth, saturated and soaked with want.

“Daddy.”

A soft groan catches in the back of his throat, the sound pressing into the delicate skin of your neck. His fingers tighten in their hold, and he gives you another lingering kiss. His teeth scrape against the slope of it this time, his mustache tickling your skin and when you let out an involuntarily whimper, his mouth gets more demanding, his grip tightening as he sucks, the bulge of his stiffening cock nudging along the top of your thigh as he flexes his hips towards you –

And then he’s pulling himself back with his eyes closed, a small frown gathered between his brows. Trying to rein his desire in, he lets his forehead rest against yours for a moment, collecting himself with a sigh.

“Good girl,” he praises you, the warm words ghosting humid across your lips.

Your fingers curl into the smooth fabric along his sides, and you resist the urge to tuck your face into the crook of his neck to hide how much the endearment affects you.

You cling to him for a moment, waiting for his body to settle and then he takes a step back, scrubbing his jaw with his hand and blowing out a heavy breath. Swiping the key off the dresser, he pats his pockets to make sure he has everything he needs.

“I’ll be downstairs at the bar.” He takes a step towards the door, and then stops, hesitating. His eyes drop down your body and back up again, taking their time. “Seriously, don’t take long.”

Laughing, you wave him out the door, standing in place with a grin as you watch it close behind him.

–

The white wine he ordered pairs with the delicious food just right, and though you want to eat more, you stop yourself, not wanting to get too full. So you share with him instead, eating off each other’s plates as you talk.

It’s been a couple weeks since you’ve seen him last, and he covers every topic: school, your schedule, how you’ve been spending your free time, what books you’ve been reading. He wants to know it all, just like he seems to want to touch it all, with the way his hands never leave you. The warm weight of his hand on the top of your thigh makes you bold, the proximity of his fingers to your core a bright, beckoning pressure.

You lean in, asking him to name at least one of the things he promised he would tell you in the car.

Watching the waiter come over with a refill of your wine, he whispers in your ear.

“I can’t stop thinking about your pussy. How much I want it.”

The filthy words are a direct contrast to the way he seems so outwardly relaxed and polite, and the words play on a loop in your mind when he presses a gentle kiss just under your ear.

His solid body fits against the length of yours in the booth after you’re finished eating and then again out on the small, intimate dance floor. Feeling bashful at the slightly old fashioned request, you take his hand and let him lead you out to it, winding your arms around his neck.

One of his hands splayed across your lower back with a protective hold, the other one strokes along your side, seeking out the smooth fabric of your dress. Waves of romantic music guide your swaying steps and lightheaded with drink, with happiness and with him, you rest your face at the corner of his jaw, breathing him in.

The picture of romance to anyone observing, you pull back just enough to look at him sweet and soft – before opening your mouth.

“I think I’m ready to go upstairs now.”

His steady gaze just as intoxicating as his charm and attentiveness has been tonight, you hold it and tilt your chin up, lowering your voice even more.

“Take me to bed, daddy.”

The only outward tell of the effect your words have on him are his hands tightening in their hold, but you can feel his body subtly stiffen the way it’s pressed against yours. He waits until the song is done, and then he’s leading you off the dance floor, the weight of his hand resting on your tailbone all the way to your room.

When he steers you inside, you expect him to turn on the lights…but he doesn’t.

His hands cupping your jaw, he kisses you instead.

“You looked so beautiful tonight.”

The words are whispered into the darkness, the only light in the room coming through the sheer curtains. The firmer edges of him meet your softer ones: a deft, skillful handling of your dress as he takes it off, his dry palms skating over your bare skin as he unhooks your bra and tosses it onto the floor, the delicate brush of his fingertips as he slides your panties down your legs and off.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with you standing bare between his spread thighs, there is something so…erotic, about the way he just looks. By contrast, he is still in everything he wore tonight, save for the shoes he slipped off when you walked into the room and you fight the urge to squirm under his attentive, reverential gaze. He takes his time, his hands exploring every slope of your skin he can reach.

“When we were downstairs,” he starts, looking up at you with doleful, heavy lidded eyes, “I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to come back to the room. How much I wanted to undress you and see what was waiting, just for me.”

His touches get heavier, more weighted, slightly more needy when he palms the weight of your breast in his hand and you watch the slow swallow of his throat, a steady throb beating between your thighs. Slick pools sticky and wet along your seam, smearing across his fingertips when he nudges them between the soft skin of your thighs, skating his touch through the silky curls that cover your cunt.

“This is mine, right?” His voice drops into a low husk, his eyes on where he’s touching you.

“Yes,” you answer shakily, trying not to succumb to the weight of your want.

“I wanted so bad to taste this instead of the food we were eating.”

He does then, bringing his fingers to his mouth with a frown and a soft groan and a suck, and you bend at the waist, cupping his jaw to bring his mouth to yours. Kissing him fiercely, you crawl onto his lap.

“Do you want it just as bad as I do, baby?” he breathes, molding his lips against yours. His arm hooks around your back, tugging your body against his. His broad hand settles on your hip, a slight tremble to his hold. “Tell me. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” you confess.

Getting lost in the cool sensation of his clothes against your heated skin, one hand grasps the collar of his shirt, and the other wraps around the nape of his neck. Grinding yourself down onto the stiff heft of his cock, it strains through his pants beneath you. His mouth demands more from yours, and the anticipation that’s been building in you since yesterday when he called breaks, the words rushing out against his lips.

“I want you to eat my pussy, daddy. I want you to taste it.”

Only the third time tonight that you’ve let yourself say it, he growls, flipping you onto your back. Covering you with the weight of his body, he guides your still moving hips against his own with a weighted grind just for a moment, and then he’s pulling himself away to sink to his knees on the side of the bed, tugging you swiftly to the edge.

“Marcus.”

The moan you let out is guttural and loud when he gives your cunt an open mouthed kiss, his head shaking “no” between your legs.

“Sorry, sorry,” you pant. Your fingers slipping through his hair to press him closer, his tongue swirls heavy around your clit, his shoulders spreading you wider as you grind against his face.

“Daddy.”

The rumble of his corresponding groan of approval is felt deep inside you, and there is an urgency that slips into his movements as his grasping hands cup your breasts with a squeeze, smooth down your torso with a weighty drag, and wrap around the back of your knees to push you open wider for him. When you come in his mouth, he buries the bottom half of his face with a groan of satisfaction, letting you ride it out against his chin.

Leaving you breathless and sated for the moment, he stands and strips his clothing quickly. Buttons ripped open and shirt untucked, belt undone before he pushes everything down and off, he impatiently tugs his undershirt over his head before he’s crawling up on the bed to join you. Your eyes drop to his cock, bobbing with weight as he makes his way over to you and you think he’s going to spread your legs to make room for himself, but instead he stretches out alongside you, pulling you in for a kiss.

Your taste thick on his tongue, he waits until you’re restless in your movements against him, and then rolls over on his back, guiding you on top.

He’s a lot like this, in this position. His cock thick to begin with, the stretch of it takes his mouth to get you ready to begin with, but paired with the weight of your body as it presses him deeper inside you, your breathing hitches as you work him in. Overwhelmed with fullness, you squirm on his lap and rocking your hips forward just to feel him slide inside of you, you tip your head back with a moan.

“Daddy.”

His hands envelop your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your peaked nipples. He plays with them, forcing his hips up to meet yours.

“Daddy, please.” You’re begging, but you don’t even know for what.

The sensation of him beneath you and inside you, the relief of saying the name you have for him in your heart. You know he brought you here so you’d feel more comfortable saying it, and so you do. You let the word spill into the dark room, absorbed by the walls – spill, spill, spill out of your mouth just like he does down your throat, tucking himself into the deepest parts of your body.

The quiet intimacy, the warm, dry, comforting hold of his big hands as they move you on top of him, the solid strength in his body between your flexing thighs – it all swirls into something intensely arousing, sending shivers along your skin, your breath catching in your throat.

Your moans are breathless as you start to ride him, pleading for him all the same. “Please daddy. It feels so good.”

Everything centered between your legs, he buries himself to the hilt and makes you grind down on it, filling you to the brim.

“That’s my girl, letting go like that. Do you need more?”

You shake your head, your teeth pulling at your bottom lip as you focus on how deep he is.

“No. No, it’s just – “ Your hips work faster; a groan spilling out of his outstretched throat. The sound makes you look down at him and he is wrecked underneath you. “You feel so good. So good.”

His thumb rubs circles against your clit, a groan crawling out of his chest when you clench hard around him. “I want you to come on it, baby, okay?”

His hair mussed against the white pillow, his glasses askew on the bedside table. His plush mouth, open in a pant as he watches you ride him.

These are things that only you get to see, and similar, contrasting images flash through your mind: his thumb a slick drag over your clit (wrapped around the steering wheel as he drove here), his open mouth, begging just for you (smiling politely at the receptionist as she checked you in), his fingers hooked around his drink tonight at dinner (the same ones that have been buried inside you and tucked into your mouth).

His broad back at the sink as he does the dishes; the same one filling the space between your spread thighs. The voice that makes polite conversation with his coworkers; the husky, filthy orders given to you in the privacy of your room.

This reserved man; this depraved man. This good father who loves to debase his daughter’s best friend.

This unassuming and handsome man with a want cradled within him so deeply that no one can tell — no one but you, who gets the brunt of his tightly held restraint that spills loose every time you’re alone.

No one knows him like this. Only you.

You come on top of him, and then he’s rolling you onto your back again, before sitting back on his heels and tugging you up onto his lap. You don’t even have time to brace yourself before he’s smearing the wet tip of his cock along the curve of your ass, guiding himself to sink back inside your soaked cunt with a groan. The snap of his hips is harsh and hard, your fingers digging into his shoulders for purchase and when you let out a soft sob, his arms wind tightly around you.

Secure and safe, he cradles against his broad chest.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, and all mine. All mine,” he chants, pressing kisses along the slope of your shoulder.

His hand slides down to rest against your lower back, and when he pushes the weight of his hold along it to grind you harder against him, your back tries to bow with pleasure, but he holds you so tightly you can’t. A couple rocks of his hips upwards that have you trembling against him, and then he’s pushing his hand between your bodies, seeking out your clit.

“Daddy,” you plead, your hand wrapping around his thick wrist as his fingers work, work, work.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praises breathlessly. “Such a good girl. I’m almost there, I just want you to come again. Can my sweet girl come for me again?”

You could – you’re already halfway there with the way he won’t stop playing with your clit while he fucks into you from below, and when you start to come, he holds you even tighter. The air squeezed from your lungs by his strong arm wound around your back and his nails scratch the skin between your shoulder blades as his own groan sounds deep and low over yours.

Pliant and loose on his lap as you come down, you are so wet it’s audible when he fucks half a dozen harsh strokes into you and when he comes, he forces you down onto his lap as tight as he can, his strong grip holding you in place as he floods you with his spend. The heavy rise and fall of his chest matches your own, and you feel the rumble of his deep, sated groans of relief against your sensitive breasts.

Tacky with sweat and the inside of your thighs sore, you shift to move, and his hold tightens.

“Stay,” he pants, hooking his chin over your shoulder to clutch you to him, bowing his head. “Stay.”

–

He’s so boyish when he’s on the verge of sleep.

His features lax, the wrinkles that surround his eyes softened. You play with the curls at the nape of his neck, the action soothing to both of you.

You think of how neat his hair is normally styled, and how much you like seeing this version more. Always so buttoned up for everyone else – so reserved, so polite and kind – and yet so undone, just for you. Flushed cheeks, loose curls, bright eyes flashing in the darkness.

Only you know what he looks like when he comes.

Only you know that he likes being your daddy.

A tide of gratefulness swells in your chest, and you whisper to him in the darkness.

“I love you.”

He stirs, lifting his arm to cover you with the weight of it. “Come here.”

You tuck yourself in along his body and when you’re shielded by the width of him, he presses a kiss to your temple, and then the apple of your cheek, pressing you closer.

“My sweet girl.” His words slur, his tone softening as he slips away. “I love you too.”

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno/you #marcus moreno/reader #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character fic

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ewingstan · 3 months

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Going into Ward, one of the things that interested me is that pretty much everyone who read it, no matter what the felt about it as a whole, seemed to like what it did with Tattletale and incorporate it into their understanding of the character. To a certain extent this makes sense, outside of Amy people's problems with Worm usually aren't that characterization had been changed. But few other aspects of Ward have been talked about with so much relative positivity, or influenced so much retroactive analysis of Worm.

After reading her interlude, I'm starting to understand why.

From the bat we're given blunt and effective portrayals of how alone Lisa feels. Half of her descriptions of other characters focused on how they reminded her of people she's lost. The Heartbroken are primarily described by the ways they do and don't resemble Alec. Aiden by how he does and doesn't resemble Taylor. Imp and Rachel get mentioned but don't get to make an appearance at all, furthering the effect—reminders of her closest connections are everywhere, but the connections themselves are nowhere. She's left with the "expanded Undersiders," and is painfully aware of how they either dislike her or will never form a close connection with her.

There's a lot more emphasis here on how her power is a separate entity than there was in Lisa's Worm interlude. She's snarking at it, talking about it as something that interjects, drawing a clear divide in her head between what it figures out and what she figures out. Is that her knowledge of its nature developing, or simply a new way of looking at how it always worked?

The framing in the passage above seems to suggest that its encouraging her to distance herself from others, pushing her to interact but specifically feeding her information that will prevent close connections. Questions of agency and identity aside, I do like this as an aspect of powers-as-coping-mechanisms: she was triggered by failing to save someone she was close to, not recognizing the signs that he was unwell. Her power helps her see the signs she couldn't before, but it also seems to try to prevent those close connections from forming so she can't be hurt the same way. Not that its successful. Can't stop betting on losing dogs and all.

What she calls people internally is interesting. I figured she had been calling Sveta "Garotte" earlier to needle her, but she continues to call her that in her own thoughts, as does her power. Valkyrie gets to be "Valkyrie," and Vicky isn't called a cape name at all. There's a few ways to interpret this; I'm tempted to say that Lisa sees Victoria as a relic of pre-Gold Morning days, and sees Sveta largely in that context. Though I also feel like there's some refusal to see her or Rain as people who are separate from what they've done in the past. A lot of the comments I've read while reading the last few chapters are people debating whether she should've gone "white-hat," and I get the sense that she sees something dishonest in that. Leaving behind the things you've done isn't something she can do—even Lisa Wilbourn can't leave behind the failures of Sarah Livsey.

That might be something to think about in the context of Victoria claiming Tattletale is awful because she represents "giving up on something better." Its kind of baffling in that context; many people have pointed out that cutting the number of overdoses in half was way better than anything the heroes ever did, but Victoria resents that TT saw merely halving it as acceptable. She prefers methods that highlight a certain attitude towards a problem over methods that are effective at dealing with a problem. Having zero tolerance for overdoses and being able to do fuck-all about it becomes preferable to halving it, because not giving up on an ideal world is better than actually making the world better. As little regard as I have for Victoria's position, it seems that the text is giving it some credence by positioning Lisa not just as pursuing the methods that will make an actual difference, but also as rejecting the idea of "something better." Sveta can't be more than Garotte, overdose rates can be halved but not lowered further. Its weirdly reifying of Victoria's position, making Lisa a foil to it rather than a reflection of an entirely unrelated worldview.

There's a few team leaders in the parahumans-verse who get characterized as encouraging and benefiting from chaos within their ranks. Jack Slash had a self-image of himself as a master manipulator who knew just how to keep the Nine at each others throats to keep them in line, though of course his power was pulling heavy duty there. Trickster exulted in sowing chaos, but while he could use it to his advantage when working alone it explicitly got in the way of the Travellers as a whole during their operations. Lisa incorporates aspects of both; she seems to be cultivating a "this chaos is all part of my design" air for Faultline and Victoria while actually always being on the cusp of losing control of her own team. It seems less like something she's doing deliberately and more like something she has to deal with, even if she later frames it as part of preparing Aiden or something similar.

Man, her relationship with Aiden. First explicit mention of Taylor we've had since the beginning and its for a blunt confirmation that she sees herself as failing Taylor in the same way she failed Rex, and is terrified of doing with Aiden. It feels both like she's holding him at arms length and that she's desperate for a close connection with him.

#lisa wilbourn #wardblr #wildbow #parahumans #leo says #leo reads ward

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alecvolturiswifeforever · 3 months

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Bite | A.V x Reader

warnings: kinda smutty but not? smutty themes?? biting, mentions of blood, uhhh

a/n: thank you to @agirllovespancakes who hyped me up enough to actually write a bite scene 😭 slowly getting over my fear of writing smut (i’m not sure if this even counts but WE ARE ONE STEP CLOSER BABAYYYY)

ʚɞ

“What does it feel like?” You blurted out the thought before you could stop it and Alec hummed as he looked down at you, frowning in confusion.You lifted your head from where it rested on his chest, unlacing your hands from the absentminded fiddling with his fingers you had been entertaining yourself with.

“When you bite someone… what does it feel like?” He watched you for a moment, taking in the way your head tilted in curiosity and how your eyes searched his own. He sucked in a breath before moving to take your hand in his once again, reinterlacing your fingers together.

“Well, I can’t say I really remember what it felt like-”

“That’s not a good answer.” You cut him off with a grumble. Playfully glaring at you for the interruption, he attempted to brush your pout away with the thumb of his free hand, smiling at you teasingly. Cupping your cheek softly he scolded you. “Stop sulking and allow me to finish what I was about to say.”

“Fine...” You playfully turned to nip at the palm of his hand. Alec let out a soft chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest whilst pressing a kiss to your interlocked fingers before he continued.

“Initially it hurts- a sharp sting at the very least…” He paused to take in your reaction, and you raised your eyebrow. “However I have heard before that it can be rather… arousing?”

“Arousing?”

“Mhmm”

There was a short pause of silence before you spoke your mind again.

“ As in for you or-?” He thought over your question before he answered.

“Well, in a way yes. Human blood can send any vampire into a sort of… pleasure filled frenzy.” You scrunched your face at his words and he laughed softly, stroking his thumb along your jaw.

“But depending on the circumstances of the bite and whether the vampire allows for the venom to enter your bloodstream or not, it can feel pleasant.”

“So… it’s the venom that makes it burn?” You looked at him in mild wonder and he nodded.

“The initial bite will be painful, if we allow the venom to follow it makes it even more excruciating. Why do you ask? You want a demonstration?”

Your cheeks flushed crimson, burying your face back into his chest momentarily to compose yourself. You lifted your head up after a few seconds, scowling at him playfully.

“I was just curious. I want to be prepared for when I have to be… bitten.” You stumbled over your words for a moment making him frown.

“There isn’t a need to be worried, sweetface. I’ll be right there with you the entire time.”

You beamed at him happily though your nerves did not dissipate. He smirked, moving his hand from your face and removing his other hand from your grip to push your shoulder gently, forcing you to lay back on the bed as he moved to hover over you. “Perhaps I should give you a demonstration to get rid of those nerves”

You giggled loudly as he began pressing kisses down the side of your face, along your jaw, across your neck, before stopping and sucking lightly on the soft spot where your neck met your shoulder. You let out a shuddering breath as he lapped at the supple skin gently, occasionally pressing his tongue and grazing his teeth against you. Your hands fisted his hair, a breathy moan of his name spilling over your lips before you could stop yourself. He placed one last gentle kiss before pulling away to watch your face.

“Why- Why did you stop?” Your voice was small, an underlying sense of desire hidden beneath. With you half-lidded eyes you began searching his face for discomfort - you found none. A wave of embarrassment flooded over you, blinking them closed for a moment of composure whilst pressing the palms of your hands against them. Alec’s hand brushed across your forehead absentmindedly, moving away the hair which had strayed across.

“You really want me to?” The surprise was clearly evident in his voice. Almost nervously, he shuffled to hover fully above you, using his thigh to push your legs apart so he could slot himself between them, both hands now planted firmly on your waist. Your eyes opened fully, bopping your head enthusiastically and wrapping your own arms back around his neck. A low groan echoed through the room, and he tightened his hold on you. Goosebumps rose on your arms, a small wave of arousal washing through you before it went away just as quick. Only for a moment.

“You are certain?” The vampire buried his head back into your neck to continue the kisses he had stopped, only this time they were directly below your pulse point where your scent was much more potent.

“A hundred and ten percent sure.” You mumbled before taking a sharp inhale as his lips brushed a sweet spot once again. Arching into him, he removed one hand from your waist to wrap an arm around your back, pulling you against him and whispering softly, seductively into your ear.

“I’ll try to be gentle.”

You whimpered loudly as he pressed a rougher kiss against you before his teeth cut through you like a hot knife through butter. A loud gasp followed, and he just barely pulled away to hush you softly, using his thumb to brush soft circles on your lower back in comfort. He returned to the bite, sucking some blood from the wound and groaning as it hit his tongue.

“Amore.” The husky way he spoke, paired with the way his lips brushed against your neck and the soft circles he traced across your back drew a lust filled moan from you and you moved to tug the hair at the nape of his neck, releasing another moan from him, softer this time. Pleasure spiked across your body, down your spine and creating a pit in your stomach the more he drank from you, and all you could do as he licked and sucked at your neck was whimper and moan pitifully. He inhaled a few more mouthfuls before pausing to collect himself, unsure whether his control will allow him to take anymore from you.

“You taste fucking divine.” He moaned into your ear. He used his nose to gently trace across your jawline momentarily, a subtle attempt at comforting you. His eyes caught sight of the blood escaping your neck, leaning down and using his tongue to clean the droplets which attempted to drip down to your collarbone. You whimpered - much louder than you had previously - and made an attempt to pull him even closer than he already was. You felt your hips move on their own accord, desperately seeking some friction as he lapped at your throat. Teeth pierced through the bite one last time, taking a few more mouthfuls, followed by a larger gulp before he forced himself to pull away, sealing the wound shut with his tongue.

He moved himself off of you and onto his back, pulling you onto your side. You were still as you rested next to him, seeking to regulate your breathing before you tried to say anything. Your own eyes were closed as he watched you intently, frowning as he watched you shakily inhale. After a moment you opened your eyes, meeting his own with a lopsided smile on your lips.

“Hi…” You spoke shyly, making him laugh - properly laugh.

“Hello to you too, beautiful girl.” You shuffled and buried yourself into him, breathing him in and he smiled, still stroking your back with his head resting against your hair. Another moment of silence fell upon the both of you before he spoke again.

“Felt good?” He mumbled, kissing your forehead. You hummed in response, body still trembling irregularly and a petulant look upon your face as you looked up at him.

“Mhmm… but now I need help.”

He smirked at you, leaning down to press his lips against yours. The remnant taste of your own blood sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, moving so you were now on top of him, straddling his waist.

“I’m sure I can be of help.”

ʚɞ

taglist: @your-next-daydream @agirllovespancakes

#omg the title how original😍#alec volturi #alec volturi x y/n #alec volturi x reader #alec volturi oneshot #alec volturi x human!reader #alec volturi x you #alec volturi fic #demetri volturi #felix volturi #jane volturi #volturi #twilight #smut?#fluff #twilight volturi #twilight fan fiction #volturi fics #the twilight saga

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aria0fgold · 7 months

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I just got to thinking... Moments where a character argued with their loved one only to find out next day something bad happened to them is some wonderful angst, but I think the opposite is also equally devastating.

Moments where you happily said "See you later!" or "See you tomorrow!" or even moments where you excitedly planned a hangout with them. Fully expectating to still be able to talk to your loved tomorrow, to still be able to spend time with them, only to find out that they're gone, whether it'd be they're missing or dead, is soul-crushing.

Cuz everything wasn't out of the ordinary the day before, it was just any other normal day, like all the other days before that too. Everything was fine, so where did it all go wrong?

#aria rants #i was thinking about the miscommunication prompt #and was like: have i ever thought bout a scene where alec and ray argued?#obviously they have but i only ever just put that as a one sentence info #and it got me thinkin that what if they argued before everything went wrong?#but then i also thought that itd be even better if they didnt argue at all. it was just a normal day #i think thatd make it more devastating for them #wait. edit: adding some tags not oc related #i think those moments hit even harder if the cause of death is suicide #cuz everything was alright the day before. you were happily talking with your loved one #only to find them dead the next day and now you just had to wonder if there were any signs at all #that you couldve noticed. maybe you mightve been able to save them then. so theres the guilt to it too #hero from omori honestly

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lakesbian · 4 months

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i was pondering some Thoughts about how people sometimes refer to worm as a "found family" story (& how this is sometimes mocked), how in-text alec explicitly says that the undersiders are the closest thing rachel has to family, how taylor tells them "you're my family, in a way," how the found family trope works in general, etc.

access to financial support, housing, medical care, And So On, is primarily attached to the institution of the family. the material necessities provided by membership to a nuclear family are why it's so common for people to reconcile with or keep in touch with family members they wouldn't if there was no material value attached to that relationship. the cultural prioritization of the nuclear family is how we get people offering "well, they're family" as an explanation for remaining associated with someone they wouldn't otherwise care about (or would even actively be trying to escape from, but this post is more about just Social Incompatibility in families than the outright abuse that the structure enables), with the expectation that the explanation is considered to make inherent sense.

aside from the found family trope demonstrating a lack of imagination about non-familial ways important relationships can take shape/demonstrating an inability to see relationships as truly important or deep unless they mimic the nuclear family, i think a lot of what appeals about the found family trope is a character dynamic that provides the same support, security, and undying love/depth of connection that the idealized nuclear family is purported to--and that does so as an escape from and superior replacement to the original blood family.

and what's interesting about the undersiders is that they're extremely not that. they're terrible at communicating. many of them don't get on with each other very well. they're oftentimes even actively shitty to each other: everyone but taylor towards rachel, brian towards alec (and aisha, but she's actually related to him), taylor towards alec and aisha. but there's still repeated in-text acknowledgement of a supposed familial dynamic between them! i think they're a "found family" in the sense that their group imitates the general role of the nuclear family--a small unit of people who (are supposed to) function as each other's fundamental supports in a world that, at large, does not care about any individual member, and who (are supposed to) do so regardless of any internal conflicts or lack of compatibility.

like, this is not a particularly articulate analysis of the nuclear family Whatsoever, but i don't think it's inaccurate to say that the compelling thing about the undersiders is that they are a "found family," but specifically in the sense that a lot of their dysfunctions are reminiscent of those found in typical, real-life familial bonds--people who wouldn't necessarily be getting along otherwise, or are even actively sorta bad for each other, forming very deep & intimate connections simply because they're materially forced to spend a lot of time together and have each others backs when there's no guarantee anyone else will.

for example: alec and aisha call taylor + brian 'team mom and dad' in a mocking manner not to indicate that they're kind/caring, but to indicate that they're being condescending micro-managing assholes...who aisha and alec are going to unquestionably listen to anyway, because they're a team, right? and you have to listen to your team leaders. i am onto an Observation here i think. deeply compelled by the idea of a ""found family"" where all of the similarities to an actual nuclear family are, despite being what drives the intimacy, also blatantly fucking dysfunctional

#worm spoilers #parahumans #wormblr #ive connected the dots. you havent connected shit

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thetrashbagswasteland · 4 months

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Today only from a card carrying member of the Castis Vakarian Appreciation Squad, a refresher on canon since there's a not-zero number of people in 2024 who seem blissfully unaware of how much we know about this man in canon (including andromeda yes the game is canon go cry about it).

He's a cop. Yes Castis works for C-Sec, implied within the same unit/building as Garrus and to the contrary of his son, is implied to be both good at his job and well-regarded for it. (This will be important for later points try to remember it.)

He has alien friends. Castis is canonically one of Alec Ryder's best friends. They're good enough friends that he passes on rumours/heresay about the Reapers to him and reminisces about spending time with him on the Citadel. Any turian old enough to have been an adult during the FCW and who has human friends as of canon prolly isn't a miserable old xenophobe. Whilst no, working at C-Sec doesn't exclude him from having shitty thoughts about Krogan and Quarians, it's a fairly good sign he's not anti-alien on the whole if he'll befriend a human.

He's got a personality. How dare minor characters have those! But more seriously, acting as if Castis is portrayed as nothing but a rule-worshipping automaton is doing him a disservice. If nothing else, his willingness to befriend and hang out with Alec, who's very much of the opinion that rules are guidelines to be circumvented when at all possible, shows that he's capable of nuance and maybe even a dash of line-pushing of his own accord. Maybe he's comfortable within the system and trusts law and order as set out legally above all else but c'mon guys, you don't hang out with a guy who goes on to break AI law and get dishonourably discharged (and then remain friends with him after that when it's made damned clear few others do) without being able to see shades of grey.

He trusts his son. This one I suspect may be more contentious BUT let's be honest here, Garrus isn't an easy person to be around. We hear about the pair of them clashing on the job and within their personal lives about the spectres but here's the thing: Garrus winds up on a secretive mission with a human and xenophobic terrorist group, after running off to a lawless hellscape to play batman. He remains distant until done working with Cererbus and then returns home with a crazy tale about a dead human spectre, genocidal robots from the year dot and half his face missing. Castis not only believes him but does so willingly enough that he does everything he can to help him get the news to the right people, just in case he's right. Equally, whilst we don't have an exact date for when the call with Alec occurs, it's post-start of ME1 at the very least and within that he's already willing to take what Garrus is saying Shepard says at face value. Within that call, it's made patently obvious that no matter what, he still trusts Garrus on some level and is proud of him on top of that trust.

He cares deeply for the people around him. Perhaps this one's linked with 3 but whatever, my post, my rules; in the comics, the picture we're painted by (unreliable narrator) Garrus is that of a driven, cold man who doesn't care enough about his own family. This is why he doesn't come home when Mama Vakarian gets hurt, we're told, and we're expected to take that as face value even when she herself says that by the time he can get away from work and be back there, she'll be mostly healed. Kinda contrasted by the fact that he seemingly retires/takes time off from C-Sec to be with his wife when she's dying. Now, the details are kinda fuzzy on the whys and hows but during ME3, he and Solana escape Palaven together. Maybe the war's going poorly enough that they're able to finagle staying together through the draft, maybe they come across one another purely by luck, we don't know. Either way, rather than attempt to get back to the Citadel and to where he presumably still had a job and/or was needed, he sticks with his daughter. Can't do anything more to help his son but he's gonna stick with at least one of his kids to make sure she survives. As well as all this, the "do things properly or don't do them at all" lesson Garrus struggles with from him is (gasp) not bad advice for their situation. He's trying to teach his son important life skills and whilst there's no denying he's going about it wrong, a key point is in fact that Garrus learns to master the gun he's struggling to fire and it in fact becomes one of his specialities! He becomes an exceptionally good marksman! The lesson fucking worked! He still, regardless of the reasons for it, seems to support and be content with Garrus not fulfilling his mandatory 15 but instead joining C-Sec and (worse still) doesn't have too much of an issue with him consorting with Spectres. Perhaps he's not best pleased but he definitely comes to accept that that's how things are irrespective of his own feelings about them as either a concept or as people (his belief that Garrus being a spectre would be a terrible no good very bad idea is, in fact, backed up by canon as being entirely correct too).

Conclusion/TL:DR. Take a lesson from Castis Vakarian himself here, either write about this man properly or don't write him at all, I'm begging y'all. There's an awful lot more to this character if you think about him and put together the information canon gives us on him, so do so.

#meta #character analysis #Castis Vakarian #garrus vakarian #turian #shakarian #also yeah MEA which gave us a canon name for him came out in 2017. Y'all have had 7 years to learn his name even if you had named him prior #do better.

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