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#but very often it sounds really sappy
wis-art · 1 year
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well that didn't really last long
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rinneverse · 1 year
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࿐ ♡ ˚ . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — honkai star rail hcs ˒ ⊹
— synopsis: random hc’s about the ways the hsr men love you.
— characters: dan heng, blade, jing yuan, && gepard.
— warnings: lots of emotions and love and sappy words!!, f!reader, praise, pet names (baby, good girl), p in v penetration, mating press (blade). very soft and fluffy, i think. :-)
— notes: i did not mean to disappear for like 3 months LMFAOOOO ,, but hi! i’m back and the honkai star rail brainrot is STRONG. i hope i did them justice !!
MINORS DNI - 18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT.
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✧˚ · . 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆. ༉‧₊˚.**
→ dan heng is cautious, at first, when it comes to the relationship budding between the two of you. he’s deeply afraid of hurting you, losing you, driving you away.
→ he’s afraid of the intensity in which he loves you—a fire that consumes his very being. his every thought is plagued with you, and it’s something that scares him. but he wants to brave it. for you.
→ your smile, the tilt of your head, the way you carry yourself; he finds himself falling for you harder every day. like he’s been thrown off of a cliff, left to freefall, but the ground is nowhere to be seen.
→ and when he finally gets his hands on you, it’s like a supernova in his chest, an explosion spreading stardust across the whole galaxy. it’s ridiculous, really, how it’s like a giant weight has been lifted off of his shoulders as he holds you in his arms, his lips melding against yours. it’s perfect; two pieces of a puzzle slotting perfectly together.
→ and when he takes you for the first time, in the comfort of your silken sheets, hands intertwined with yours, he finds himself complete—like he doesn’t have to run anymore.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.���
“baby,” dan heng groans into the crook of your neck. his hips stutter a little as he bottoms out, and the feeling of your heat surrounding him sends a violent shiver down his spine. you lay there below him, staring up at him with nothing but adoration in your eyes, and dan heng thinks to himself that he’s never seen anything more ethereal.
“heng,” you sigh, legs wrapping around his lean waist. “you feel so good.”
he can feel his heart hammering in his ribcage, pressing impossibly closer to you as you whisper sweet praises in his ear. he needs you. he needs all of you, and in return, he’ll give you all of him.
when he pulls out, the drag of his heavy cock against your walls has you keening, breath hitching in your throat as just the blunt head is left—and then he’s slamming back in, and you feel like you’re falling, head light and spinning with pleasure as dan heng sets a steady pace.
“please, please, please,” you plead with a sob of his name. dan heng can feel his cock throb with desire at the sound of his name falling from your lips.
“again,” he grunts, rolling his hips so deliciously that it has your lips parting in a silent moan. “say my name again.”
“dan—dan heng!”
he slips a hand between your sweaty bodies, quickly seeking out your aching clit. the moment he’s touching you there, your back is arching and you think that you’re seeing stars behind your eyelids. you cum with another cry of his name and that sends him right along with you, hastily jerking his hips away as his cum spurts all over your navel.
and as he lays there with you, coming down from his high, he thinks that he’s finally found a place he can call home.
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✧˚ · . 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄. ༉‧₊˚.
→ it’s not often you draw verbal affirmations of love from blade. in fact, it’s scarce, and something you’ve come to terms with. rarely do you ever hear the man utter the words, ‘i love you.’
→ instead, you’ve learned to read between the lines with him—the gentle way in which he treats you, the softening of his gaze as it lands on you, the way he protects you with every ounce of his being.
→ blade is not a man who speaks reverent poems, love songs, or otherwise to you. he shows his love through his actions, through his subtle body language, and especially through the way he worships your body. not one inch is left untouched by him, and you are left trembling and dizzy and full of the love that drifts unsaid between the two of you.
→ even as he ravages your body on those rougher nights, you still feel the adoration that overflows from him, in the way he leaves a blazing trail of kisses down the length of your spine, grunts and groans spilling from his lips as he pulls you ever closer.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
“blade, wait— please, s’too much,” you sob as blade pistons into you mercilessly. he’s got you folded in half, his mouth hot on the sensitive flesh of your neck as he bites—ripping a sob from deep in your chest.
he doesn’t respond, even as your hands tug at the silky length of his hair—pulling a guttural groan from him. and as he lifts his head to look down at you, tears streaking down your cheeks and drool forming at the corner of your lips; something animalistic, something feral glints in his eyes.
“oh, fuck. you like this, yeah? you like when i use you like this? you’re clenching so good around me. takin’ me so good.” he’s breathless as he speaks, lips swooping down to capture yours in a heated kiss. he’s right—you’re clenching so tightly around him, toes curling as he hits just the right spot inside of you.
you’re floating, weightless and utterly exhausted by the time he’s done with you. blade lays beside you, an arm wrapped around your waist as the two of you take a minute to catch your breath.
“… stay here. i’ll be right back.”
you suppress a laugh as blade rolls out of your bed—as if you were going to move anywhere anytime soon. after a few moments of silence, you hear the bathtub faucet start running. a warm feeling blossoms in your chest as blade returns.
he doesn’t say anything as he scoops you up in his arms. you sluggishly throw your arms around him and plant a wet kiss on his cheek.
“love you, bladie. ♡”
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✧˚ · . 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍. ༉‧₊˚.
→ jing yuan is confident. sly. a renowned general of the cloud knights.
→ so why is it that he’s reduced to a fumbling mess around you? he doesn’t understand. it’s something he struggles to wrap his head around—how one second, he’s thinking of all the ways he’d like to woo you, and the next, he’s flushing, stuttering dumbly as you stare up at him with those damned eyes of yours.
→ maybe that was it. the way your eyes seem to pierce through the essence of his very being; if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you one of fu xuan’s assistants in the divination commission. but he does know better, and it’s something that he’s grateful for—he’s not sure how you would view him had you been under fu xuan’s influence. maybe as a scoundrel, since she’s so insistent on viewing him as one.
→ but enough of that. he’s sick of the way he seems to lose all his swagger around you, so one day he sucks it up, puts his big boy general pants on, and asks you out on a dinner date. the way you tilt your head at him has his heart seizing in his chest—until you laugh so gently, a smile gracing your lips as you nod your head.
→ a melodic sound: that’s what your laugh was to him. he’d like to hear that over and over and over again. perhaps he’d like to draw other melodies out of you, play you like an instrument—but for now, he’s content with this.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
there’s electricity in the air, a tension on the verge of snapping as jing yuan guides you to your bed. hickeys litter the vast expanse of your neck and collar, something that makes his chest swell with pride. with desire.
he’s the one doing this to you—the one causing that foggy daze in your eyes as you look at him with such adoration, pupils blown wide. he can feel the lust in your gaze; he’s returning it tenfold with his own golden ones. he grins down at you.
“baby,” he says. “spread your legs for me. there you go—good girl.”
he hums, pleased, as you listen obediently. he flips up the fabric of your skirt, pausing at the sight of the lacy white panties you wore. his tongue flicks out to wet his lips.
oh, he was going to devour you. whole.
you thread a hand through his soft hair as he lowers himself to the apex of your thighs, breath ghosting over the most sensitive part of you—you’re so worked up that even the fabric in between barely does anything to separate you from him.
“sweetheart,” jing yuan speaks lowly. his voice is a deep rumble, and your thighs would’ve clenched together if it weren’t for his strong hands holding you open.
“i want to absolutely ruin you.”
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✧˚ · . 𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃. ༉‧₊˚.
→ gepard’s large stature is juxtaposed by the gentle way he treats you. as if you were fragile glass, or perhaps a beautiful statue made of ice, his every touch is.. not quite hesitant, but calculated, made to only treat you with reverence. he worships you, your very soul, everything that you are. he adores you.
→ he is a protector at his core. he would do anything for you. he is always sure to take care of you before himself - your pleasure comes first. in fact, he thinks that he gets off when he makes you feel good. it makes his chest swell with pride and his cock twitch with desire.
→ often, he’s occupied on the frontlines, protecting belobog with all of his might. that just makes the time spent together with you even more precious. it’s not something he takes for granted—whatever time you get together, you best believe all of his attention is on you.
→ he’s treating you to a candlelit dinner, buying you flowers, taking you shopping, the whole package. he’s got a captain’s salary, after all—and he’s using it all to spoil you. he buys you promise rings and a necklace with his initial on it, pretty earrings and bracelets and other trinkets to remind you of him when he’s away. he leaves you his clothes, sprayed with his cologne, when he knows he’ll be gone for longer than he wants to be.
♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡
“gepard,” you say gently, running a hand through his hair as he holds your hips tight. you straddle him, plush thighs pressed against his stronger ones as he ruts up against you. “slow down, baby, we have time..”
time. time was something that was becoming increasingly more scarce—more precious. he’d like to spend all his time with you, but duty calls; and so he treats this time he can spend with you as sacred, and he’d like to not waste a single second.
“i know, i know,” he says, voice strained with want. “it’s been so long. i need you.”
you’re not used to gepard being so forward like this—but it wasn’t something you were particularly against, either; the way he guides your hips down against his cock has a soft moan bubbling up in your throat.
“let me show you how much i love you.” he says, running strong hands along your sides. it sends a shiver up your spine, your heart hammering in your chest as he pulls you close.
you nod your head, heart full with adoration and want and everything that is gepard. “please.”
and he does, undressing you carefully and unravelling you at the core. and when he deems you ready, he’s sliding his heavy cock along your folds, drawing a whine from your throat. he only smiles as you desperately rut your hips to no avail, held down by his large hands.
he doesn’t tease for long, though—he never does, not when he values your pleasure above everything else. you let out a sob of relief as you feel him slowly slide in, cunt spasming around his thick girth as he inches in slowly. he’s always so careful with you—knows that he’s bigger than average, so he has to take his time. he doesn’t mind; never once has.
he holds you close as he makes love to you, bodies melding together perfectly. if the warmth and love between you two was something physical, he thinks that it could melt the eternal freeze that plagues belobog.
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please don't repost on other platforms. rbs and comments are super appreciated ♡ !!
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vampcubus · 1 year
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𝐊𝐍𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐂𝐒
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 : kyojuro, tanjiro, and zenitsu.
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : reader is implied to be fem, the term "wife" is used!
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𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔
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— As much as pet names make his heart soar, he melts when you call him by his first name. The tender way your lips form around each syllable as if his name was something so dear to you. It makes his stomach flip every time you utter it. Kyojuro. Kyojuro. Kyojuro~ nothing sets his heart ablaze quite like your adoring voice echoing his name back to him.
— He’s Rengoku to most that know him, big brother to Senjuro, but to you he’s just Kyojuro. Your Kyojuro.
— However, there are some pet names that get those butterflies going: my love, honey, baby—something about being called baby makes him soften visibly. He gets that wet smile on his face and big eyes that say, Yes that’s me.
— He really really likes it when you call him “husband” there’s something so domestic and coy about it that makes his heart flutter. 
“Husbanddd, I require your assistance!” You often shout to him from the other room when you need help with something, and whether it’s simply a dish from a high shelf or a piece of furniture that needs to be moved, he pops his head into the room with an enthusiastic “Yes, wife!?”
(He especially likes it if you aren’t married yet, so when you teasingly call him “husband” it sounds like a promise.)
— Kyojuro has a multitude of pet names for you! He thinks your name is beautiful but he only calls you it when he’s feeling serious. Prepare to adopt second names by the day. 
— Names such as: my love, my flame, my heart’s fire, darling flame, my heart.
— And if he’s feeling particularly syrupy? He'll sing out names like sunflower and sunshine. cus you’re the ever-glimmering light of his life 🥺
— Everything that comes out of this man’s mouth sounds like a declaration of love.
— Another one he’s fond of is little flame.
“I’m not so little!“ you’d proclaim, making a face as he pats your head affectionately.
“Compared to me you are!” he’d laugh with his whole chest, teeth showing as he tosses his head back in glee.
— And even if you’re taller than him (which I’m sure he’d find incredibly enchanting, being able to rest his head on your shoulder and standing on his tippy toes to kiss you) you’re still his cute little flame.
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𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎
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— He’s pure as they come when it comes to romance; shy but loyal to a fault! Tanjiro is a little clueless on how to go about the whole relationship business being so sheltered, all of his knowledge of courting rituals and such he observed from his parents (and they weren’t around very long to teach him 💀)
— Tanjiro honestly loves to call you by your name. He thinks it’s pretty and suits you perfectly. It took a great deal of conditioning to convince him it was alright to call you by your first name. To call you by your first name feels like an honor, so naturally, he’d want to utter it as often as you’d allow. 
— You can’t help but love the way he almost whispers it like a precious secret between you. His gentle voice always takes on an adoring quality when he says your name, every syllable honeyed and reverent.
— Tanjiro’s pet names are sickeningly sweet things like: sweetheart, flower, beautiful, and petal.
Nothing better than waking up to his kind gaze already trained on you, a muttered “good morning, beautiful.” against your temple as you’re still stirring from sleep. He gets that lovesick puppy look on his face when you reply with, “good morning to you too, handsome.”
— Tanjiro would let you call him anything you wanted, no matter how silly. You can’t go wrong with a cute shortening of his name like Tanji or a simple “my love” if you’re feeling sappy—and with such a loving partner as Tanjiro, wouldn’t you? He loves you so passionately it’s hard not to let the syrupy pet names fall like rain when he looks at you like that.
— His favorite though? Honey. Something about it just makes his brain turn to mush, he’d do anything for you when you call him that.
“Tanjiro honey, the bathroom door’s stuck shut again!” You’d holler, bouncing a fussing child with one hand and trying to pry the stubborn door open with the other. 
He’s at your side in seconds, wrenching the door open with considerable force. You sigh in relief, smiling when you feel his lips against your cheek, and watch as he shushes your child by simply stroking a thumb over their forehead.
“Thank you, honey,” you sighed, planting your own kiss to your husband’s cheek. He only beams, holding the door open for you and scooping your child into his own arms to let you have some much-needed alone time. 
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𝐙𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐀
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— I think it’s pretty obvious that Zenitsu is an avid pet name enjoyer, both giving and receiving! 
— He struggles not to shorten your name or replace it entirely with sugary pet names before you’re even official. And once you are irrevocably his? Prepare to forget your real name because you’ll never hear it from him again. Y/n? Who’s that?
— Your new names include: dearest, my love, sweetie, angel, peach blossom, sugar, honey—the list goes on and on! 
— His pet names only get sillier and sappier, but you’ll never have a dull moment with him that’s for sure. Zenitsu also uses the silly ones to make you laugh and can you blame him? It's his favorite sound <3
— Zenitsu doesn’t expect you to pick up his habit and start calling him your own sweet names.
— The first time you called him sweetheart his head whipped around so fast, eyes sparkling as he looked left and right, pointing to himself to ensure you were speaking to him. And when you nod he nearly bursts into joyous tears, fists clinging onto your kimono. It’s the first time he’d been given a sweet name, he can’t help blubbering his approval into your clothes.
— Zenitsu turns to mush before your eyes for any pet names, but his personal favorites to be called are: sweetheart (he melts every time), my love, my heart, and baby—that name in particular makes him get all misty-eyed and following after you like a puppy (another name I HIGHLY recommend calling him)
— Definitely soft for being called “husband.” it reminds him that he’s found someone that isn’t going to give up on him. No matter how many times he cries or falters; you’ll always be right there by his side. And then of course being married is his ultimate fantasy, so he can’t help but puff up with pride when you refer to him as your husband.
— Call him “pretty boy” and he’ll actually die. local man found dead in the marketplace after being called pretty by his own wife.
— it gets to a point where he grimaces when you use his actual name like who tf is Zenitsu? He’s sweetheart? He’s baby? 🤨
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thefudge · 3 months
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Advice for writing smut???
gonna do bullet-points of things i tend to live by when it comes to smut (this is just my opinion):
don't switch styles: the way you write the smut has to be consistent with the way you write the rest of the story, so if your story is more comedic or romcom-y in nature, the way you write the smut should have those stylings. i personally find it very jarring when authors decide to break the format for the smut, almost like the story has to stop for the sex intermission; if you're writing a horror story, the smut must be informed and influenced by that genre, and if you are breaking genre for the smut portion, tell us why you're suddenly switching gears (it has to be an aesthetic choice you're making on purpose). likewise, if your style in that story is more lyrical, the smut has to be somewhat lyrical too, or if your story is more cormac mccarthy-esque-cut-and-dry, the smut can't suddenly involve an effluvia of purple, sappy prose. integrating the smut in the story and treating it like any other part of the story is key to me. too often i've seen ppl switch to this anonymous pornified style when they get to the smut
which brings me to specificity. i'll talk about het sex, since that's what i tend to write most: not all men are going to be fingering or eating pussy the same way, not all dicks are big and they shouldn't be, not all women immediately get excited by fingering, not everyone moans the same way or makes the same sounds. you're writing about particular characters so it has to be particular to them. i know this is very old advice, but i think it bears repeating
there isn't an exact formula or sequence you have to follow, there aren't precise steps, you don't have to go "well, first he has to kiss down her neck, then reach the boob area, then play with the nipples, then put the nipple in his mouth, then slowly go down on her, then prepare her for entering her etc. etc. etc." this can get boring and repetitive and you start thinking of your characters as these mechanical dolls who have to fuck for your audience. and that can be a vibe too, if you do it on purpose. but sometimes you can get stuck in a porn routine (and ofc, having only the guy show initiative can also get boring)
in order to break that, insert some character moments. what are the characters thinking during this? sometimes they might be thinking of something completely unrelated on the surface, but which has a thematic relevance that can make the scene hotter. likewise, maybe they're doing smth that seems unsexy on the surface, but which, within the context of the story might be really hot. sex doesn't just involve, well, sex, but so much weirdness and humanity and creativity. two bodies (usually) are trying to do this really awkward thing together and they might have a lot of baggage and history to inform it. there's a lot you can do with that.
don't make it glossy and clean, where everyone smells of strawberry shampoo and there is never anything out of sync. the most boring smut tends to be the kind where no one makes any mistakes and everything is super efficient. i imagine it feels like using an industrial pump to milk various farm animals.
and you know what? you can make that hot too. you CAN write a kind of robotic efficient smut and make it really interesting based on the context. let's say you're writing a 1984 AU fic where ppl are forced into intimacy only to procreate and their sex drive is diminished. you can play with that premise and lean into the dehumanizing industrialization of sex, but you have to mean it, aka your narratorial voice must be conscious of these factors.
if you're writing dubcon, make the dubious part present, make sure you draw out the ambivalence and ambiguity. if you're writing noncon, the character whose consent is being violated has to be transformed by this in some way. it can be forced pleasure, for instance, but not only. it has to be a journey for them too, some kind of spiritual pit, or a form of access to terrible knowledge. i know this is a personal thing, but noncon doesn't work for me if the character being noncon'd is just sort of *there*, suffering passively. i think that sort of dead passivity can be done very well too, but the narratorial voice has to persuade me.
that being said, don't be afraid of fear in consensual sex. terror and vulnerability are a part of consensual sex too, imo, and again, depending on the story and the characters, there's a lot you can explore there
i personally find it really hot when the narratorial voice starts discussing some of the ideas that the story wants to convey during the smut. so like, you can characterize person A and outline their worldview and their plans while they're ramming person B, and the thinking & fucking are thus entwined. idk, i dig that
speaking of which, smut can convey world-building details and social/philosophical ideas, not just emotions and character beats
not all smut has to end with mutual orgasm or even one-sided orgasm, it depends what you want to do or where you want to go. again, you don't have to follow a sequence. plus, it's fun (and hot) to write about frustration and failure too.
if you want to mix up the descriptions, resort to the story & characters. you'll find it's easier to describe someone fondling a boob in a new or at least interesting way if you're thinking about that particular character in that particular story, and not just Man X from planet porn (sorry to be snarky, but mainstream erotica is soooo guilty of this)
screaming & really intense reactions are cool but they have to match the characters and the situations
sometimes, it's hotter if an effect is mild or negated, if the usual outcome doesn't happen; mix up the order of events, toy with the usual reactions. it's not about being original, it's about finding out what works for your characters. writing about sex is, in a way, a performance of it, an attempt to go through the sexual motions, to find out what works and doesn't, to engage with the erotics of text (roland barthes entered the chat)
if you are bored by your own smut, that's a problem. i know we all talk about how hard we find writing smut, and IT IS hard, and sometimes it's not enjoyable, because writing itself is often not enjoyable, but even when it's painful and annoying, it gives you that little intellectual kick like "huh, i'm creating this and making these people do this, and ohh look, i can maybe put this unnamable thing into words". but if you become bored, that's a sign you have to look at the language & characters and figure out what's not working for you
last thing i'll underline: pay attention to your narratorial voice. in this ordeal, you are the seducer. not the characters. you have to seduce us with words and context. your voice matters the most. you can persuade us of anything. but you have to be confident in your weirdness and particularity. this is your bedroom (so to speak), so invite us in.
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lunarduty · 4 months
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𝙋𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙊 𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘽𝙀𝘿
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☾ sfw & nsfw headcanons for dating soap JOHNNY 'SOAP' MACTAVISH X F!READER TAGS | nsfw. smut. oral (female receiving). female reader. WC | 2,063 x
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SFW
☾ in his mind, he was already your boyfriend before even becoming official. soap is fiercely LOYAL and dedicated - just as soon as he realized the depths of his feelings, he was yours before you even knew it. stopped so much as looking at other people, much less thinking or fantasizing about them. for soap, you were it. he just had to convince you to go out with a guy like him, which is very soap. not always looking before he jumps.
☾ he loves calling himself your boyfriend, or calling you his girl. soap isn’t one to try and make it lowkey or anything. he wouldn’t be unprofessional - disrespecting or making you look bad is the last thing he wants. but soap will insert the fact into mundane little conversations whenever he can. the team quickly gets tired of it long before he does.
“soap, you joining us for drinks after the debrief?” “don’t know,” he says, sounding awfully CHIPPER for someone who might miss out on a night at the pub. “gotta check in with my girl, see if she wants to do anything tonight. missed out on lunch with her, y’know.” he was still beating himself up over that. you kept insisting it was fine - you both have crazy schedules sometimes. but soap didn’t want to make it a habit of blowing you off. gaz nodded like he agreed - soap didn’t think he really got what it meant to be your boyfriend.
☾ his favorite thing in the world is making you laugh, and he does it so easily. and a lot of the time, he doesn’t even mean to. soap can be blunt and cheeky sometimes, and his smart mouth has gotten him in hot water more often than not - but he’s always very happy to make you laugh, even accidentally. always acts kinda proud when his jokes land perfectly. or if he’s not in a great mood, but ends up saying something that makes you laugh, it always brightens his mood.
☾ while he usually finds one petname and sticks with it, soap is known to call you different ones - each worse and more SAPPY than the last. they’re never spoken seriously, he just enjoys seeing your nose wrinkle and look at him as if he just tracked dog shit into the house. it’s one of his favorite ways to tease you without feeling like he’s going too far, like he does with some of his mates.
with his nose buried against your neck, and the slowly thump of your heart vibrating on his chest, soap was damn near close to following you into unconsciousness. it had been a chaotic last few days - the mere chance to cuddle up with you in bed had him relaxed beyond the point of needing a quick fuck to tire him out. at least until you shifted your legs, and your icy toes pressed against his legs. “fuck, lass. toes are fuckin’ freezing,” he hisses against your shoulder. you just hum, not bothering to reply, more interested in finally falling asleep. he hums in return, and condemns himself to the icy torture. “lucky i love ya, my l’il popsicle.” “jesus, johnny.”
☾ generally enjoys going out on dates than staying home. of course, if you’re more of a homebody or he just doesn’t feel up to going out, a home date is perfectly fine with him. but soap likes going out and experiencing things - most of all, he wants to show you off. absolutely loves walking down the street with you on his arm, or you pulled against his side. tries to get some leave every few months so you two can travel somewhere, but usually, soap’s idea of a good date is simply going somewhere and having fun.
☾ gets super soft when you start getting comfortable around him. before the relationship began, you two were good friends - there was already a layer of comfort and familiarity before, but it’s different when you start dating. so one night, when you both are just chilling on the couch, and you start cackling at a joke on the TV or ugly-crying during a sad scene, soap just REVELS in it. he’s heard how far some people go not to show certain sides of themselves to their partners, and he’s super pleased that you don’t feel like you need to do that with him. on the flip side, soap immediately gets super goofy with you right off the bat, so it’s not like you’re alone in your silliness.
☾ don’t think you can outkiss this man. don’t even try to challenge him. soap mactavish is a man made for kissing and he will do it all day if you let him. your eyes in the morning to wake you up, on your cheek before he leaves, your hand after meeting up for lunch, your lips when he gets home at the end of the day, your neck while doing the dishes, your forehead after a good fuck before falling asleep. soap loves being able to kiss you whenever he wants and he takes full advantage of that privilege.
☾ arguments aren’t super common, but they do happen. soap can be stubborn and sometimes doesn’t see the wider picture. he forgets to take your feelings into account. arguments are usually resolved pretty painlessly, since soap knows he can be dumb sometimes and he doesn’t let his pride get in the way of apologizing. even still, he likes to go out of his way when it comes to make ups. he doesn’t like feeling guilty and can go a little overboard in comparison to the argument.
“so, you forgive me yet, bonnie?” “hmm,” you draw out the hum, even if the smile on your face negates the tension, “i haven’t decided yet.” suppressing his own grin, johnny throws his hands up in defeat. reclines back in his chair with a sigh and a shake of his head - always with the theatrics. “yeah, i figured ya say that. but i’ve learned to never enter a battle without a secret weapon.” “making up for a fight is a battle for you, is it?” your question, though a joke, made him pause. “well, no, i didn’t- fuck’s sake, lass. take it easy on me.” johnny stands, his hands clapping together. “i was listenin’, though. i know you feel all alone when i’m gone so much, and i’m sorry. wish i could change it.” of course, you knew he couldn’t just uproot his whole life. some of the things you said during the argument weren’t even exactly how you felt - just something said in the moment. “johnny, hold on, i didn’t mean-” “hey, hey, i’m not done.” he backs away from you toward the bedroom. “last thing i want is you to be here feelin’ all LONELY again. so i got something to fix all that.” he finally turns and makes for the bedroom door. when you stand and follow to watch, you notice how carefully he opened and slid right past. like he didn’t want you coming in. but you realized right away it was because he didn’t want something getting out. “a puppy? john, this is-” “great, right? can cuddle up to him when i’m not here!”
☾ definitely thinks about marriage super early on, but doesn’t really bring it up because he doesn’t wanna come off as weird or creepy. but honestly, soap knew you were the one right away. he’s not out looking at rings or wedding venues - he just kinda ACCEPTS that he’s gonna marry you. might make little jokes or comments here and there. jokingly calls you his wife or “the missus.” so when he eventually does pop the question, he’s a little taken aback when you’re caught off guard. and then he remembers that, oh yeah, he’s always been mentally married to you since basically forever.
NSFW
☾ it’s not hard at all to tell when soap is in the mood. he’s going to get very touchy if you let him - from soft grazes of his fingers along your skin to straight up groping your ass when you walk by. he is an absolute menace when he’s horny. loves coming up behind you when you’re doing something and just squeezing your hips and kissing your neck. grinds his cock against your ass, as if it isn’t painfully obvious how wound up he is.
☾ foreplay with soap is more fun than anything. there are rare moments when he’s silent and serious and focused, but mostly, he likes to keep it light. makes you laugh before sucking on your tits to take your breath away. says some dumb comment when you’re grinding against his thigh to distract you, only to suddenly change pace and laugh when you whimper. he sees sex with you as something to 100% ENJOY and making sure the both of you have fun with it…
☾ …that is until soap gets completely pussy-drunk off you and just shuts the fuck up and enters this kind of tunnel vision when he’s eating you out. it happens a good 60% of the time - he starts out his usual light and teasing self, kissing your thighs, asking you if you want to fuck his mouth. but just as soon as he gets his tongue on your clit and his fingers buried knuckle-deep, it’s so easy for him to just get lost in it. will make you cum twice before he realizes it, and is almost confused when you’re begging him to stop, or at least give you a break. 
“fu- fuck, johnny! i can’t- shit, you need to stop.” those words seem to finally break him of his little trance. your little moans and whimpers of his name are always MELODIC in a way that makes him want to hear more and more. but hearing you ask him to stop makes soap blink and pull his face away - lips parted in his panting, chin glistening. “okay, bonnie?” he asks, a hand squeezing your hip. you’re breathing hard. skin flushed. chin tilted upward with your eyes closed and he wonders just how hard you came. or how many times. “i’m okay,” you answer quickly. “just…need a break. or just fuck me - that works too.” a wide grin spreads over his face, and when he pulls his fingers free, the soft squelching sound almost makes him shiver. “just said the fuckin’ magic words, beautiful.”
☾ not at all picky with positions, so he usually just tries a bunch of different ones or follows your lead. there’s something to enjoy with all of them, so how can he have a favorite? fucking you in missionary gets him on top, where he feels so big and strong and loves feeling you hold onto him like your life depends on it. when you ride him, he gets to watch your face the entire time, or play with your tits, or do anything he wants. getting you in doggy is great when soap is feeling especially FERAL and just wants to drive into you, grabbing your ass, tugging on your hair when he feels like he can’t hear you well enough. gun to his head, he can’t pick just one.
☾ soap does have a preference when he cums. as fucking fantastic as it feels to cum inside you, there’s something otherwordly about pulling out and painting your skin. he saves creampies for slow and sleepy sex (or when you beg for it), but every other time? soap is cumming on your back, your belly, your thighs, your face, your tits. anywhere and everywhere is fair game for him. he’s definitely taken a picture when the sight is too good to leave to memory. eventually deletes them because he doesn’t want them to somehow get out, but not before using it as wank material while he’s away.
☾ very gentle and attentive with aftercare. sex with soap isn’t especially rough or intense most of the time, but he still doesn’t slack on it. kissing you good and proper after you both cum, letting you know just how much he loves you. always gets something to clean you up and talking while he does so - soap is a chatterbox anyway, but more so after sex because he doesn’t want you to start feeling awkward. lots of cuddles and touches when he climbs into bed - but be warned, he does tend to nod off pretty soon.
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dawndelion-winery · 3 months
Text
I Met You Once, I Loved You Twice
Celebrity au! Their persona, and then their true self, it seems like you were meant to love them regardless
Ft. Childe, Furina, Kaveh, Scaramouche (Wanderer), Wriothesley
[Idol! Childe, Actress! Furina, Racer! Kaveh, Artist! Scaramouche, Athlete! Wriothesley]
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Childe:
You knew him before the fame, before the glitz and glamour; when he was just Ajax
And as horribly sappy as it sounds, you've loved him since day 1
Falling in love with Ajax was like slipping on ice while you're hiking up a snowy mountain
You get a little too caught up in the scenery, a tad bit too comfortable being around him
And suddenly, you fail to notice the patch of ice and slip, tumbling down the cliffside, your affection for him snowballing into something greater
And so you support him through his dreams of becoming an idol, writing to him while he's a trainee, making care packages for him
Anything for your Ajax
And when he finally debuts...
Oh boy, all the fans calling themselves his partner? They could dream on
You called dibs on him before any of them even set eyes on him
Besides, how could they even fall for someone just from watching them perform?
That was answered for you the first time Ajax excitedly insisted you watch him in the MV
You're not exactly proud of your reactions to seeing him come up on screen, but he seemed happy enough about it
Falling in love with the idol Childe was like drowning
Holding your breath, choking and flailing
It's dizzying until you finally succumb, which doesn't take long at all
And once he's converted you into a fan?
He's such a little shit, whipping out the idol persona for a smidge of free fanservice just to get you flustered at the most random times
And he's back to your sweet old Ajax in seconds too, acting like nothing's amiss
Furina:
The world's greatest actress finds that the world is her stage
Ever perfect, ever entertaining, her splendour is unparalleled
It was impossible not to adore such craft, and you easily fell in love with her acting just as one would fall asleep, gently and blissfully without even realising
Immersing yourself in her works, you develop a sort of fanaticism, delving deeper to find her interviews
She's beautiful whether or not she's filming, you find
So much so that you can't help but wonder how much of it is true
And so when you do, by some trick of fate, meet her, you feel compelled to ask
It's a dark, foggy evening, and you're taking a brisk walk along the forest
Who would've thought you'd bump into her then?
And so you strike up conversation, eager to interact with your favourite actress
And when you broach the topic of her facade, you notice she gets a tad bit defensive
So you apologise and back off, meaning well, hoping to see her again
And you do: these late walks become a regular thing, and slowly, you start to know her for who she really was
It's almost like meeting her for the first time all over again, and it very well may have been if you don't count the act as meeting her
Falling for Furina, your friend, was like taking an ice bath
Frigidity seized you almost instantly, and yet, as you stayed longer, the more pleasant it felt, almost soothing in a sharp sort of way
Kaveh:
Not just anyone could race in what was known to be the pinnacle of motorsports
And Kaveh? He was brilliant, the light of Ksharewar, the face of the team
And frankly, a very charming face
Often regarded as one of the prettiest on the grid (if not the prettiest)
He's really raking in the viewers
Imagine people seeing *1* edit of him getting out his his car post race and suddenly they're invested in races
Ofc being a new fan, the gatekeeping you have to put up with is ridiculous
"I bet your favourite driver is Kaveh because he's handsome."
As if he's not one of the most talented to ever grace us with his presence?
He gets so involved with the car's engineering honestly he should just build the car himself too atp
He is speed on the track
And falling for the light of Ksharewar through the television screen is an adrenaline rush in and of itself
So bumping into him in real life was just breathtaking
You sincerely hoped you didn't come off as some crazed fanatic with the way you rambled on about how much you loved seeing the way he pushed the car to its limits and everything
Overall it was a great once in a lifetime experience and you planned to treasure it
Until it was just a once in a lifetime thing and you seemed to bump into him a fair bit ("Hey aren't you that fan that completely went off about the car that time?")
Once you'd started talking to him more frequently, the rush of meeting him started to fade into less of a frenzy, and more of a bubbling excitement
Falling in love with Kaveh was like taking a breath of fresh air and letting the chilly breeze fill your lungs, a crisp clarity creeping through your senses
But from the faint flush of pink on his cheeks, perhaps the opposite was the case on his end
Scaramouche(Wanderer):
You've heard of artists with depression, now what about artists with borderline personality disorder?
The first time you'd met him, you didn't even know it was him
You'd been at an art gallery admiring the works signed off by Kunikuzushi when a stranger stood beside you
"You've been staring at this sculpture for a pretty long time."
"I like it. I don't think I've ever felt such yearning embedded in stone."
The stranger didn't respond, but nodded in acknowledgement and continued to stand beside you
Falling for Kunikuzushi was like falling in love with shadows
It was no more than a feeling, a yearning, a desperation much like what he portrays in his works
Everything you knew about him seemed to drown in sorrow, loneliness, and self destruction, yet having never met him, you were sure this was only one small aspect of his being
Which left you ever curious
Curiouser still was that same stranger with the odd navy blue hair who always seemed to happen to bump into you at these exhibitions
Without fail, he'd prompt you to speak, as though digging for your thoughts on each piece
Not that it bothered you, the stranger felt familiar, and had become a welcome face
Warm was his presence and gentle was his gaze, yet a detached coldness kept you from him
He was beautiful, you noted, like moonlight, with all it melancholic splendour and grace, like the paintings and sculptures you loved so dearly
And so you found yourself falling for a beguiling stranger whose name you knew not
You loved him like the sea loves the shore, always reaching for him, but pulling back in uncertainty
"You're oddly silent today," he notes.
"I was thinking of how much this piece reminds me of us. It's weird, isn't it? How I'm seeing things, drawing links to some stranger."
"Not really. I made it like that for you. We don't have to be strangers."
Wriothesley:
Baseball player Wriothesley who has his fans swooning at his charming grin and chuckle
A real heart stopper (he could beat me with his bat)
Fans adore him regardless of whether they're simps (they are) because he's good at his job
The only people who hate him are fans of the opposing team
The way his arms flex with every swing, in this essay I will-
He's built like a tank and plays like one too
So obviously you'd expect him to be a pretty confident kind of guy
And he is
He's a charmer, a smooth talker, and painfully level headed
So why was this beefy cannon suddenly bashful over your incessant praise?
Just look at him, which of his fans haven't fallen completely smitten?
Falling for the star player was like stepping into a big city for the first time, and being wowed and blinded by the lights and massive skyscrapers
But Wriothesley was a soft person at heart
And oh so very vulnerable to affection
For every compliment you uttered, he'd readily deflect it, but when they just didn't end?
Boy was he at a loss
He did end up treating you to coffee, so that was nice
But he was very obviously avoiding your gaze which he deemed to raw for him to meet
Yet it is that exact raw adoration that he can't quite dismiss
He knows how superficial fawning can be, yet there's an undeniable gratification when it comes from you
So he keeps you at arm's length, letting you in ever so slightly, but never too close despite not pushing you away
Falling in love with Wriothesley was like planting a seed and nurturing it as it grows
The germination takes place out of sight, the results unnoticeable until it finally sprouts as a fragile sapling
Discouraging as it may be, with continued work, it does get easier
And when he's secure enough to trust you entirely...he promised to return all your efforts tenfold
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Taglist: @ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyarobin @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating
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chilschuck · 1 month
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Not sure how to put this into words (again) but... Chilchuck with a very affectionate reader, one that's always wanting to hug him and hold his hand. Hopeless romantic falls in love with divorced man in his midlife???
`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ WAHHH ANOTHER ADORABLE REQUEST FROM YOU ANON!!! i hope i did it justice!! i wrote this cozy in bed half asleep so it may be more sappy than usual…. Hshkshsjshksj. i hope you enjoy!! <333
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— INTERTWINED: chilchuck x gn!reader.
꒰ warnings: ꒱ none, fluffy + sfw!!
꒰ wc: ꒱ 988. short but sweet!
✦ decided to give you a drabble instead of hcs this time, hope that’s okay!! this was super fun and i would love to elaborate more on the idea, hehe. <333
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Physical touch was your love language, that much was clear. With the other party members, you found yourself patting their shoulder or back as you passed. Maybe even offering a hug here and there when you felt it was needed. Yet, with Chilchuck, you discovered your love language really stood out.
When he offered a hand to you to help with your balance, you would take it, giving it a light squeeze in return. Even when you were fine on your feet again, you still didn’t want to let go. You craved his touch so much that even in darker parts of the dungeon, you intertwined your fingers with his. The first time you did it, you could practically hear the sound of his head turning to give you a look. If he was uncomfortable with your touch, he didn’t verbalize it. Instead, he understood what you were seeking, and helped to give you a bit of that comfort.
Hand holding was easy to hide your true intent with, but you began craving even more. Your bravery would shine through when you’d feel his hand in yours long enough, and pretty soon you were setting up your bedroll beside his.
Chilchuck blinked, looking up from situating under his blanket to raise a brow towards you. “What are you doing?”
Biting back a laugh at his oblivious question, you decided to give a light grin instead. “Wanted to sleep beside you tonight. Heard you were warm.” That caused his face to heat up, as he fussed and grumbled about Izutsumi under his breath. Not able to hold back that laugh any longer, you giggled at his behavior before getting cozy in your own covers.
“Goodnight, Chilchuck.” You spoke softly, reaching out a hand to rub his back for a moment. Your touch was soft, cautious, and full of a need to feel him under your palms. Instead of complaining about your affections, you noticed his eyes begin to grow heavy. Stifling a yawn, he ran his fingers through his hair before saying your name. “‘Night.”
You’d willingly call yourself a hopeless romantic. Enjoying the time you spent by his side and the small touches you managed to give, of course you’d begin to crave more. It was no longer enough just to give his hand an occasional squeeze or a reassuring pat on his shoulder. You noticed you’d often daydream about what it’d be like to hold him, and soon enough, you couldn’t take it anymore.
One night, the half-foot seemed to be lost in thought. He stared at his hands in his lap, tuning out any voices chatting around him. Except, of course, your own.
“Chilchuck?” You called in that sweet tune that always made an appearance when it came to him. “You okay? You seem preoccupied.”
Sitting beside him, you waited until he gave a reply in that tired tone you had grown used to. “Just thinking.”
Before you could stop yourself, you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him gently to you. The hug was brief, but enough to knock him out of his stupor and widen his eyes. When you let him go, you made sure that every little detail of his chest pressed against yours would remain in your memory.
“You looked like you needed a hug.”
And he did. He always did when it came to you. It was strange, but he began waiting for your touches, your hands intertwining with his, your gentle caresses when he struggled to sleep. Chilchuck cleared his throat, trying once again to ignore the slight feeling of pink rising in his cheeks. “…Thanks.”
It was strange just how much you were doing to him. It was obvious what your intentions were, yet he couldn’t seem to make himself turn you down. He wondered, with a small smile, just what you’d pull him into next.
“You seem to let them do anything, huh?” Marcille questioned him one day, the two of them walking ahead of the rest of the party. Chilchuck gave a light scoff in response, his hands resting behind his head as they usually did. At least, when they weren’t intertwined with yours.
“That’s not true and you know it.” It was Marcille’s turn to make a sound, a huff of unconvinced laughter leaving her lips. Rolling her eyes, she thought about all she could throw in his face to tell him otherwise.
The constant hand holding, the sleeping next to each other, the soft hugs you would give him anytime you could. You’d even offer to rub his back for him to help him get sleepy again, something he was growing more and more tempted to accept. Counting on her fingers as she listed all the offenses, Chilchuck grew increasingly more embarrassed. He managed to somehow hide into his neckwarmer, before barking out, “Ok, ok, enough! Alright, I get it. No need to be a smartass.”
Marcille was definitely proud of herself, wondering just how much of this would end up like one of her romance novels. Maybe what he needed was someone much more romantic then he was, a foil to his cynical character.
She felt herself grin.
Chilchuck could deny it, but many things about you made him soft. Your smile, the way it crinkled your eyes, the way it lit up a room like some sort of magic. It was almost too much to bear, yet like a moth to a flame, he couldn’t help but gravitate towards it.
Maybe your hopeless romanticism was beginning to rub off on him or something. Especially, as he finally tucked himself in for the night next to you, he still longed for your affection. You had somehow managed to captivate a man who felt he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, seek love again. You proved him wrong on countless occasions, and even as he felt his eyes begin to succumb to sleep, your voice called him home.
“Goodnight, Chilchuck.”
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— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <33
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jaebeomsbitch · 1 month
Text
Not Another Werewolf Romance Story (E.M.)
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Summary: Eddie finds you reading a werewolf romance book in secret and decides to make your fantasies come to life.
Warnings: MINORS DNI, kissing, fingering, vibrator, nsfw, cursing
A/N: I wrote this so long ago in the middle of the night. Not edited. Sorry for being gone so long, thanks for the like hundred new followers while I’ve been gone.
You lay in bed with a book in your hand as Eddie brushes his teeth in the bathroom. The faint sounds of the water running fill the bedroom as you read quietly. You push your reading glasses up higher on the bridge of your nose as you become more engrossed with the story. Your eyes glued to the page missing your boyfriend walking into the bedroom.
It isn’t until he presses a wet kiss to your cheek that you snap out of it. Your eyes widen slightly as you close the book.
“What’re you reading, baby?” He asks, pulling the duvet back.
“Nothing too interesting” you say trying to sound nonchalant as you place the book on your nightstand.
“Oh really, s’that why your nose was buried in it?” He asks, eyebrow quirked.
He leans over to see the cover, playfully tugging on a lock of your hair. "Let me guess, another one of those sappy vampire romance novels?"
“No!” You protest, cheeks flushed pink. Fuck wrong answer. You see the immediate way his eyes sparkle mischievously.
"Then what is it? Something naughty I need to know about?" He asks with that stupid smug smile on his face.
“Something ‘naughty?’ What are you eighty?” You scoff trying to play it off, you try to be stealthy as you press your thighs together underneath the sheets. Trying to hide how wet you got from the book.
Eddie raises an eyebrow and tilts his head, his gaze lingering on your closed book. "Now you've piqued my interest," he says, crossing his arms over his tattooed chest.
“How, I haven’t said anything!” You protest again trying to get him to drop it.
Eddie chuckles and climbs onto the bed beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close. "Well, you're blushing like a school girl caught with her first Playboy," he teases, nuzzling against your temple. You whine with shyness, not wanting to open this part of yourself up to your boyfriend yet. Unfortunately for you Eddie’s fingers grab the book quickly, yanking it off your nightstand.
Eddie's fingers trace the spine of the book curiously, feeling its weight before flipping it open to the page you were last reading. You gasp trying to grab it out of his hand but Eddie lifts the book up.
“Oh God,” you groan covering your reddened face as Eddie reads the werewolf romance you picked up at the bookstore.
“His strong hands grab my thighs, it sends a shiver down my spine. All I can think about is having his knot inside me” Eddie’s voice drops low and husky as he begins to read aloud. You feel like you could cry at the humiliation.
Eddie laughs harder now, finding your discomfort endearing as he looks down at the page with mock seriousness in his eyes. He finally stops reading and sets the book aside. Your cheeks are bright red along with your neck and the tips of your ears. It’s not often Eddie sees you this embarrassed, you usually have some sarcastic remark to make except when it comes to sex. He never knew something like that would get you horny either, it seems so… juvenile?
Eddie looks over at you with an amused expression. "A werewolf romance, huh?" He says before leaning in to press a soft kiss against your temple. "It's cute."
You stay quiet feeling humiliated beyond belief it’s like he just read your dairy out loud. There’s something very intimate about him knowing this other side of you, one that you’ve tried to keep hidden from him. There’s a certain shame that comes with opening your sexual side to your boyfriend.
Noticing your discomfort, Eddie pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, "You don't have to be ashamed, baby. I love knowing what gets you going". He plants small kisses along your jawline, hoping to ease the tension. You stay quiet, squeezing the hem of the negligee you’ve just become comfortable wearing around him.
He nibbles on your earlobe softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Do you want me to keep reading?"
“Not if you’re gonna keep making fun of me” you murmur, eyes trained on your lap.
Eddie rolls his eyes playfully and snuggles into you further, resting his hand on your hip. "Okay, okay, no more teasing," he assures you, planting another gentle kiss on your cheek. You lean back against the headboard your body tense with mortification.
Eddie watches you closely, sensing your tension. He realizes he might've taken the teasing too far. He strokes your hair softly. "Come here, sweetheart." He pulls you into his lap and wraps his arms securely around you.You bury your face in his neck trying to hide from him, maybe if you hide you’ll disappear into him.
“Princess," Eddie coos, nudging your chin up with his finger so he can look into your big doe eyes. "I didn't mean to make you feel bad. You know I love you, right? And everything that makes you happy." He kisses your forehead tenderly.
You sag against his chest, your knees digging deeper into the mattress on either side of his hips. Eddie caresses your cheek softly, trying to wipe away any remaining embarrassment. "Why don't you tell me what happened in the story that had you so turned on? Maybe I can make it better..."
“That’d be even more humiliating” you groan.
Eddie looks at you, his expression softening. He brushes your hair out of your face and kisses the tip of your nose. "Alright, how about this...I'll turn off the lights and hold you while you read it to me?" He offers, running his thumb in circles on your back.
You swallow hard, he’s already seen it. There’s no hiding from what he saw, it’ll only lead him to more questions or to think something bad about you and it terrifies you so you begrudgingly murmur “okay.”
Eddie turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness save for the dim glow of streetlights filtering through the window. He adjusts his position so you're comfortably sitting between his legs, your back pressed against his chest. You try and relax against him but you feel so high strung.
Saliva pools in your mouth as you grab the book, cracking it open to the last page you were on. You can barely see the words with the dim light coming from the window. You clear your throat, eyes scanning the page, face flushing hot instantly. Eddie squeezes your waist trying to reassure you and get you to loosen up.
“Take your time, Princess,” he encourages, pressing a soft kiss on your hair. “I’m right here with you.”
You swallow your spit
“H-he… he splays her out on the bed, her hair fanned out on the pillow as his lips press against her throat. It’s been so long since he’s shared a bed with a woman much less his mate. She’s beautiful better than anything that he could imagine. Her smell, fuck her smell is addicting. He can practically taste the arousal pooling between her legs. He aches to claim her, fill her with pups” your voice trembles shyly as you read, your face flushing with more heat.
Eddie’s heart races hearing you describe something so intimate, not accustomed to it yet but he fucking loves it. He resonates with the book, you’re the most gorgeous creature he’s ever seen, he doesn’t believe in a God but everyday he prays to whatever is out there thanking them for bringing you to him.
He grips the fabric of the nightgown between your thighs gently. "Keep going, baby," he rasps out, his breath hot against your ear.
Your breath hitches, fingers shifting in the book before it falls.
“H-he buries his face in h-her…” you stop feeling a wave of discomfort but Eddie reassuringly squeezes your thigh.
“C-cunt,” you squeak, your body sets ablaze.
“-Her panties soaked all the way through. She probably soaked through her jeans if he was paying attention. He breathes her musk in deeply, it sends a shiver down her spine as she moans. Her fingers curl around the bedsheets, she’s too shy to ask him what she wants but he can sense it. His tongue darts out licking a thick stripe over the cotton of her panties” your voice grows more steady as you read to Eddie. He realizes how closely the two of you resemble these characters… well, besides the lycan part.
Eddie’s fingers move to lightly graze the inside of your thigh, your breath catches in your throat as his fingers brush against your soaked panties. You gasp softly, your back pressing harder into his chest while flip the page.
“He teases her with his tongue, the tip just grazing over her slit nowhere near the spot that’ll have her seeing stars” you say, voice trembling as his hand moves under the waistband of your panties, cupping your sex. You moan, toes digging into the mattress. You’re not sure if you’re supposed to continue or not, your mind in a tizzy.
“His fingers finally move the fabric to the side, he growls as he sees her glistening pussy. ‘Mine’ he growls.” You continue reading.
Eddie can't resist anymore. His middle finger dipping between your folds, sliding easily through your slick before circling your clit lightly.
“F-fuck” your grip on the book slacks as your head falls back on his shoulder.
He keeps his movements slow and deliberate, matching the pace of the story unfolding in front of him. He leans forward, whispering into your ear, "Your pussy is so wet for me, baby."
“Fuck,” you groan, it’s the only word you can manage to grasp.
He nuzzles into your neck, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent of your skin. He slips a second finger into your pussy, curling it to find your g-spot.
You gasp, the book falling from your delicate fingers onto the mattress, you moan, your back digging deeper into his chest. He removes his hand from your pussy and picks up the book, flipping to the next passage. "Continue," he urges softly in your ear.
You whine when he stops, your thighs already trembling. Eddie's heart skips a beat at the sound of your neediness. He guides your hand back to the book, encouraging you to continue reading. "Go on, my little vixen," he says seductively. If this was any other context you’d find it cringy but there’s something so fucking hot about his whispers against your ear.
You breathe heavily as you look down, grabbing the book from Eddie in one hand. Your thumb and pinky holding it open.
“His tongue darts out, he moans as he tastes his mate for the first time. It’s like something inside of him snaps, he buries his face in her cunt. Tongue moving wildly as he switches from tongue fucking her to sucking on her clit. Her moans fill the room, her nails digging into her palms as she scents the room with her pheromones” you read.
Eddie’s fingers slip back inside of you, his thick digits thrust in and out, restricted by the fabric of your underwear. His thumb finds its way to your clit, moving in tandem. You feel like you could just turn into a pile of mush, already turned stupid by his fingers alone.
“Oh fuck!” You keen, fingers gripping the book harder.
“Her voice gets louder and it’s like music to his ears. He can’t wait to hear what symphonies she’ll create when he’s fucking her” you heave for breath like you’ve just ran a marathon.
Eddie's fingers pick up speed, mirroring the action in the story. "You're doing so good, Princess," he praises, nipping at your earlobe.
“Oh God,” you moan.
He reaches for the nightstand drawer and fishes out a vibrator, placing it against your clit as his fingers continue to work your sopping pussy. The squelch of your cunt filling the room along with the hum of the vibrator.
“Honey” you let out a high pitched shriek.
Eddie whispers encouragement in your ear, "Read more for me, baby."
You hiss in protest but Eddie quickly shuts off the vibrator. You practically sob when he stops, struggling to catch your breath. You were so fucking close to coming already you feel the tendrils of your lost orgasm loosening their grip on you as the seconds tick by.
You finally look down, your voice strained as you read on “Her pussy clamps around his tongue, his thumb rubs over her sensitive nub quickly. Golden eyes trained on every little detail of her face trying to memorize her pleasure. He wants to burn the memory into his brain and never forget it. She’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen especially when she’s screaming his name. Her back arched beautifully as she twitches and squeezes his tongue coming all over his face with a wail”
He turns the vibrator on again with a click, holding it firmly against your clit. He’s almost desperate to hear your moans as you come on his fingers.
“Fuck— ” you let out a strangled cry, you can feel the intense vibration deep inside the root of your clit. Eddie’s doesn’t let you think, his fingers entering you again but this time he shows no mercy. His fingers curl pressing into the spot he’s found since the first time he fingered you.
You let at a garbled mess of desperate filthy moans. His lips press to your ear whispering “look at you taking me so well, Princess. You think ‘bout me knotting you, huh? Touch this pretty little pussy thinking bout me fucking you until you were locked together, yeah?”
You choke on your spit, your boyfriend has whispered dirty things in your ear before but nothing like this.
“Yes— yes, yes, yes,” you chant
“Wanna be stuffed with your cum again and again and again,” your tongue loose with the amount of pleasure Eddie’s giving you. It means so much that this man is willing to play into your stupid fantasies. You grip onto his wrist scared he’ll pull away again. Moaning in a way he’s never heard before, it’s loud and wailing, it’s purely you. It’s you running on instinct.
"Cum for me, princess," Eddie whispers against your ear, pinching your clit between two of his fingers and slamming his fingers deep inside your pussy, curling them in a come-hither motion.
“Fuck- ohh fuck” you moan, your head falls back on his shoulder , hips rolling into his fingers, hands digging into his skin. You wheeze for air as your skull digs into his shoulder, pussy fluttering around his fingers pulling them in deeper and squeezing. It isn’t until his teeth press into the juncture between your shoulder and neck that you practically scream. Coming on his fingers making a mess of the vibrator, thighs shaking as you babble nonsense.
He shuts the vibrator off when you whine, pulling your sensitive clit away, and throws it somewhere in the bed. His tongue traces the indent he’s left of your skin.
“You’re crazy” you rasp
“But you fucking love it,” he grins against your neck pressing a soft kiss there.
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Terms of Endearment - Brothers and Dateables
Lucifer: My love, my dear
Lucifer tends to use the more traditional pet names for his partner when he does use them, which isn’t very often. He will call you my love or my dear when he’s particularly pleased or feeling sentimental, and he’s also known to use them when you’re upset. 
Mammon: My human, my baby/babe
Mammon regularly uses nicknames for his partner that begin with my like my human or my babe/baby. He really just like anything that sounds possessive because it shows everyone how you belong to him. They’re not super sappy names though because he has his tough reputation to live up to. 
Levi: Henry, true friend, normie
Levi uses a lot nicknames because there’s something super embarrassing and vulnerable about using your actual name. He uses casual nicknames, almost joking ones, like normie or Henry. He likes hearing you laugh when he uses them but he blushes like crazy if you ever use on one him. 
Satan: Kitten, darling, Watson
Satan is all about the romantic nicknames; typically he will use something like darling or kitten, especially when he is in a good mood. However, he will sometimes use Watson when he is in one of his chaotic or fun moods. Watson may be his favorite honestly because it just shows how great of a team you are. 
Asmo: Hun, darling, beautiful/gorgeous, sweetie, anything goes.
We all that Asmo uses nonstop pet names. It’s second nature to him to call you anything cute that he can think of: hun, sweetie, darling, gorgeous. He’ll even make up random little nonsense names like ‘my sugar free cupcake’ because he loves to see how far he can take it before you call him out on how ridiculous he’s being. 
Beel: Honey, sweetheart
Beel is a very simple guy. He’s not going to use flowery nicknames or use them all the time.Typically, he’s going to use your name or maybe a shortened version of it, but if you catch him in a particularly soft mood or if he’s trying to comfort you, he might call you honey or sweetheart. 
Belphie: Idiot, princess/prince
Belphie, like Beel, doesn’t use nicknames a lot but he does it more than his twin. Belphie will call you idiot like a term of endearment and then call you princess/prince and make it sound like an insult. Honestly, he just enjoys riling you up. If he’s actually trying to be nice, he will call you his dream. 
Diavolo: My queen/king, actual name
Diavolo looooves nicknames. He didn’t grow up with them or any friends to use them on so he tries out all different kinds with you at first, figuring out what you both liked best. He loves to call you dearest (since you’re the person he cares about most) and once you’re in a serious relationship, he likes to call you his king/queen. Once in a while he’ll throw out something like “pookie” because he heard someone else say it and it always leads to a good laugh. 
Barbatos: My lady, actual name
Barbatos follows a strict set of rules and has perfect manners which means he’s not known for using nicknames. He thinks even using someone’s first name can be incredibly intimate based on his station but, deep down, Barbatos is incredibly soft, especially for MC. When they are alone, he’ll regularly call them ‘love’ or ‘my heart’. He uses these because he claims you are the person who brought love into the heart he forgot he had. 
Solomon: My better half, something based on an inside joke
Solomon enjoys using nicknames but almost all of them are a joke. He typically uses embarrassing moments or inside jokes to come up with them and they change out regularly. It wouldn’t be weird for him to call you something like ‘spilled milk’ or ‘my croissant’. But, during serious moments or when he’s introducing you to someone, Solomon likes to call you his better half because that’s exactly what he thinks you are. 
Simeon: lamb/little lamb, sunshine
Simeon goes 50/50 with pet names. Like Barbatos and Beel, he most enjoys using them in private but he’s certainly not ashamed to use them in front of people if he thinks the moment calls for it. He most commonly calls you lamb or little lamb and it’s always said so fondly that it makes up for any condenscion you might feel. He will also call you sunshine because he claims you not only light up the Devildom but also his life. 
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fuckmyskywalker · 5 months
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❄️𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟓𝐭𝐡 : 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 - 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.
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— CW: 18+, smut. Cheating. PiV. Both Padme and Anakin cheat. | Word count: 2.0k (not proofread!)
— a/n: Consider this a late Christmas gift because it's 2k <3. I normally don't like my fics but I can say I am proud of this one. Inspired by an unreleased song by Jules Paymer. Follow them ;).
— Anyafest 2023 + Taglist!
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Anakin stares at you from the other side of the large room, admiring how you carry yourself with such grace and confidence. His hand tightens around the glass of whatever the fuck he is drinking, he can’t really give a damn about it now. All he can think of is how much he wishes he could yank your hair and beat you up. Drag you to the center of the room and expose you, scream to the world how you ruined the best thing he would ever have. 
It’s time. He knows he has to be quick before you get away before he can get his stupid revenge. As he strides towards you, he can hear Padmé’s apologies ringing in his ear, bouncing inside his brain and making his blood boil. 
“I am so sorry, it was a mistake! I promise I didn't mean to.”
“It was an accident, Anakin. I was drunk— she means nothing to me!”
“Please forgive me. I just couldn't lie to you anymore. It was killing me.”
Sure, maybe fucking the woman your wife cheated on you with isn't the best approach, but that's the only thing he can think of right now. Thankfully Padmé skipped today’s event, probably at home lamenting herself and planning a very sappy and emotional apology, buying him gifts, and preparing a new set of tears to ask for forgiveness. Anakin knows he will forgive her in the end, besides her he doesn't have anyone else. How is he going to give up the only good thing in his life?
He is pathetic to even consider forgiving an infidelity, but what else can he do? It isn't often that his mind strings a coherent thought, and tonight exception.will not be the exception. It would be easier to give you the benefit of the doubt; to be fair, you weren’t aware of his marriage, and if Padmé was as drunk as she claimed then— no. He cannot give her the benefit of the doubt. You are quick to acknowledge his presence and Anakin doesn’t miss the way you eye him up and down, completely oblivious to the way his eyes are beheading you. He isn’t nice when he presents himself, in fact, he is quite harsh with replying to your questions. 
Your obvious interest makes him sick, so you think that with that pretty face and expensive gowns you can just get away with everything you want? Disgusting. 
“I thought Jedis weren’t fond of these sorts of events,” You speak in a sultry tone. Anakin can bet you think you are being so smooth and seductive— batting those long eyelashes at him. 
“Well, it’s nice to cool off from the stress every now and then.” Anakin gruffly replies, taking a sip of his drink trying to sound as charming as possible which on a normal day wouldn’t be hard, but Maker, his shoulders are so tense they hurt and his stomach is twisting with anger.
“Glad you can find a reliever,” You wink, and he can read what you imply— another type of reliever is thrown on the plate, it is up to him to bite it or spit on it. “You do look tense… General.” The way his title rolls down your tongue makes him sick. So you know who he is, did Padmé say something? Did she mention him at all? Did she even think about him as he was breaking his trust?
“Long day.”
The initial conversation is polite, he has to give you that. You don’t go straight to the point which he is thankful for, if you had tried any insinuation Anakin wouldn’t have been able to hold the impulse to crash his glass against your head. His internal struggle becomes hard; when he finds himself smirking at a snarky comment you make of another guest on the other side of the room, or when he sees you smiling at a very fake compliment he gave you… he feels nauseous— to not say ashamed— he can see right through you but you cannot see his real intentions. 
“I can’t imagine living on the edge all day,” You sigh, tapping your long, manicured nails on the oddly-shaped drink. “Must be quite challenging.
Anakin suppresses the urge to roll his eyes. “You get used to it,” Is he being too harsh? Too scattering? How are you supposed to treat the person you now hate the most?
You offer him another drink which he reluctantly accepts, is this your preferred method? To force people to drink and then take advantage of them? Or is his vision of reality so distorted he isn’t able to pick up that you are the one tipsy? If any he would be the one taking advantage of you.
Anakin watches you drink without restraints, staining the edge of the glass with your dark lipstick. Is that the same color that tempted his wife? Or did you choose another shade that night? His sudden jealousy is clouding his judgment, not that he has much but still. 
After your third drink— although Anakin is sure you had a couple more before he decided it was time to talk to you— your tongue begins to lose. Your questions get bolder as well as your touch. Your hand lays on his arm when you laugh, your body slowly making its way dangerously close to his. Despite the sick feeling that rises up his stomach, threatening to regurgitate the lousy dinner he managed to eat, Anakin forces himself to place his gloved hand on your lower back with an unauthentic smile. He needs to play along because that’s what he wants right? To get revenge. 
It’s not hard to find an empty room in this ridiculously enormous building. Too many unused rooms that on a normal day would throw him into a useless rant about how poorly managed the Senate budget is, but then again— this isn’t a normal day for Anakin. What is extremely challenging is to continue with his plan; you let him do his move which makes him drown in self-doubt and loathing again. Was his wife the one who made the first move? Did she kiss you the way he was kissing you now? 
The dark red lipstick smears all over his lips, and Anakin swears he can taste bile on his tongue. It’s stupid. What did he even think this was a good idea to start with? He is fucking stupid. Bringing your body closer to his, Anakin parts his lips to deepen the kiss, shivering when your tongue comes in contact with his. Pushing you further against the wall, you mistake his intentions— he looks like he wants to merge his body with yours, and the misunderstanding fuels your desire. He is handsome, terribly so, so where’s the harm in having a little fun? His kisses are heated, rushed, he wants to be done with this as soon as possible. He wants to— what the fuck does he even wants to? Is this the moment of clarity? Maybe. 
Suddenly your lips don’t feel that bad. The taste turns sweet and it catches him by surprise, if this was what Padmé felt then maybe… Can he even blame her?
A kiss. No. Multiple. Contact after contact with Anakin's mind fogs. Your sounds are just as sweet as your lips, asking him for more, praising him, practically dragging him to the same mess he was never meant to get involved with. Clothes soon become a bother, but the situation isn’t ideal— nothing is. Your hands shouldn’t feel as good as they do— but fuck they do. Anakin gets greedy fast, a characteristic he probably will never be able to get rid of. A familiar burn builds up in his body, the only thing that wasn’t supposed to happen.
It’s laughable. It really is. 
“Please don’t stop,” You whisper against his lips in a way that makes his blood boil, bright erythrocytes then pump his cock until it strains against his black robes, you feel it, of course, you do. “Oh— Anakin.”
Sweet. His name sounds so charming when you say it with his hand in between your legs. He wants more. Why? He’s not sure. Nothing seems real right now and for an instant he forgets he is about to have sex with the woman who unbeknownst to her ruined his marriage. Your skirts are heavy, but the layers of fabric don’t seem to be a problem. He finds you dripping, easily sinking two fingers inside you, watching with half-lidded eyes how you arch your back. No longer sweet but sinful. Anakin pants, feeling pathetic for finding the slightest hint of enjoyment in what was intended to be revenge. 
“I can’t do this,” He mutters, withdrawing his hand. He can watch his fingers glisten under the dim light of the room. “I… I can’t.”
“Yes, yes you can,” Your voice is like a lullaby, broken and barely frustrated by the irruption. “Anakin, I need you.” Do you? Because he doesn’t know what he needs. The lines blur too fast for his mind to catch up and the next thing he registers is his trembling hand fumbling with his pants. “Please, Ani. Fuck me.” That damn nickname. The one that was reserved for the woman he loves, but if she had to share her with you for a night, it is only fair that Padmé shares that pet name with you too. 
This wasn’t supposed to be something pleasurable, now Anakin can see clearly how Padmé couldn’t say no. When he fully slides his throbbing cock inside your tight heat he crumbles. Now he has gotten his own taste. 
His thrusts are fast and eager, bringing one leg around his hips as his palm rests against the wall. You cling to his body desperately, moaning freely now— each sound pushing him closer to the edge he wasn’t meant to cross in the first place. A bead of sweat rolls down his brow, his tongue swirls with your sensually. No other touch had felt this addictive, plus the taboo of the secret he is holding, the one he will have to drag to the grave now. Anakin groans, biting your lower lip and tugging it with his teeth. Your pussy envelops his cock like a glove, tight and warm, so good and so bad at the same time. 
“Maker— you feel so good,” You moan directly in his ear, furrowing your brows and rolling your eyes in delight. His cock feels amazing, stretching you in forms no other man has done. Is this the type of man the Jedi Council is keeping away from you? “I’m going to come, Ani. Fuck— harder, please.” You beg. That’s all you do. More. More. More. You are insatiable. 
He is too far in— both literally and figuratively— to even deny you, which would mean he denies himself. He is close too, he can tell by the familiar clench under his lower stomach, how his balls tighten and slap against your sweaty body. He shouldn’t come inside, then he would be the same as his wife— or even worse. 
The brief clarity the Force itself blessed him with suddenly disappears when you come undone around him. It’s like a wave crashing on top of him, drowning him in a feeling he knows will never be experienced again. You look like an angel, a miserable comparison given the situation. You climax with a strained moan, mouth hanging open and cursing to the Gods he will never believe in— and he is following you just seconds after. 
Everything is ruined. Your makeup, your underwear, his dignity. Like a bitter reminder, the same apologies Padmé gave him over and over spun around his head with the same strength as his orgasm. Anakin rests his forehead against your naked shoulder, saliva trickling down the corner of his mouth as he struggles to catch his breath. He is fucked. He is so done. He is ruined.
He understands why Padmé cheated on him. 
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— ❄️ Taglist! : @darthgloris | @offthethirlwall | @pockcock | @shellxrls | @anisdoll | @wifeofasith | @anakinsgirlfriendreal | @anisgurll | @mortalheartache | @arzua10 | @tammy-baker | @haydensgirlaela | @bimbo-baggins86 | @jadeeeeqq | @https-luvaviva | @sorryigotlipglossontheblunt | @bunnylovesani | @glazelilies | @slvttedoutmars
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augustjustice · 7 months
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Pretty in Pink
AO3 Link
I am still firmly on my Stevie Harrington agenda this week, so please enjoy below Eddie's thirsty-turned-sappy thoughts about his favorite girl, inspired by @getlost0p's absolutely delightful art as well @cherrycolasteve's very cute tags.
Eddie taps the pen against his front teeth absently, eyes flitting uncomprehendingly over the various multiple choice options of his practice test. With his brain already feeling fuzzy and unfocused, it’s easy to let his gaze drift away from the page over to the girl currently sprawled out beside him–Stevie Harrington, curled up reading the X-Men comic Dustin had strong-armed her into picking up. 
And, look–who could really blame him for getting a little distracted? There's a hot girl in his bed which is, admittedly, a rare enough occurrence–until shit went sideways last spring, at least–to still feel a little notable. Even if she is only there for moral support while he studies, his GED test date circling ever closer.
Stevie's wearing a striped white and pink polo with the buttons undone all the way to the bottom of the neckline and tight stonewash jeans. The absolute preppiest of prep attire, completed by the cherry-flavored chapstick shining red on her lips.
Eddie wants to kiss her stupid.
The jeans are high waisted, pulled up snug over the curve of her ass, and with Stevie rolled onto her stomach reading the comic, Eddie's getting quite the view.
Then she shifts, flopping over onto her back beside him, the movement followed by the sound of pages turning. The new position offers a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, a further hint of what her clingy polo is doing such a great job of highlighting. 
Eddie looks. Of course he looks.
Estrogen has taken to Stevie’s figure like a duck to water. In the plush spread of her hips, making her pert ass even rounder, which Eddie would have thought was damn near impossible. And in the plumpness steadily gathering at her chest, her once defined pecs softening, giving way to the gentle swell of her breasts, which grow fuller by the day. 
It’s become something of a problem for him lately–the staring. 
That was true, to some extent, even before she started to transition. Stevie's always been gorgeous, and Eddie's always been aware of that fact, harboring a hopeless, from afar crush on her since they landed in the same impossible English class his first senior year and Eddie had become painfully aware of what all the Hawkins High girls were on about. Not that he would have admitted that, at the time, not even under threat of painful, agonizing death–no, the coming terms with it came later, during his spring break from hell spent realizing that Stevie Harrington was not only surprisingly sweet but a totally badass, bonafide hero.
…The whole ripping that bat apart with her teeth thing certainly didn't hurt, either.
The point is, he's always looked at Stevie, flirted with her. Probably been too obvious about it, too. 
It's just that since she started to transition, it feels like he's gotten so much worse, like any subtlety he was holding on to by his fingernails has been ripped from his hands. Eddie can’t stop staring at her, the heat of embarrassment prickling his face, tongue-tied like a school boy with a crush each and every time he gets caught. 
And that's the worst part of it–he does get caught, far more often than he'd like.
It’d been months, now, since the first time Stevie explicitly called him out for it–a warm Saturday in the summer when they had dragged the kids down to the arcade, trying to beat the heat with the dark, air-conditioned interior of the local nerd haunt. 
Stevie had been watching Erica beat her own high score at Duck Hunt, leaned over the machine in her Daisy Duke cutoff shorts and a cropped pink jersey, ponytail swinging against her back and the scars littering her sides unashamedly on display. That’s something they had both been working themselves up to, together–not hiding their war wounds, fighting off the anxiety that came from people’s stares.
But Eddie had been staring for an entirely different reason when Stevie caught him. 
As Erica ran off to ‘pummel’ Dustin after his latest Dig Dug win, Stevie propped an elbow on the abandoned game, shooting Eddie a knowing look.
“Like what you see, Munson?” she asked coyly.
Eddie’s entire face flamed with heat. 
“I was just–your top!” he blurted. “I was just admiring your top, my lady. It’s…it’s cute. The pink–think that might be your color, Harrington.”
Stevie’s cheeks burned her own pretty pink to match it, then, which Eddie couldn’t help but preen about. 
And if he noticed she started wearing a lot more pink around him after that, well…he tried not to read too much into it.
Just like the pretty pale pink she’s wearing today, attracting his eye and forcing Eddie to hold back a twitterpated sigh as he watches her, wrapped up in the bright primary colored pages of the X-Men
…This bullshit of his is definitely gonna get his ass kicked by Robin or Nancy, one of these days, he’s sure of it. Possibly both of them at once–Buck may just hold him down while Wheeler does what she does best.
But the truth is, it's not just about how Stevie’s figure has steadily filled out. He's not gonna lie, that's definitely part of it–but also…she just has this glow about her, now, like she's settling so happily into herself. It’s like that contentment beams out of her, radiant, in every little gesture, every giddy smile. He's drawn in by it, like Icarus with the sun, like a moth to a flame–too entranced to turn away, even if it might end up burning him in the long run.
The thing is, Stevie's beautiful, and she takes his breath away.
She’s become such an intrinsic part of his life, since everything that happened, he’s not entirely sure what he would do without her. Hell, they still share a bed, some nights–fighting back the nightmares together is always easier. And in the intervening months since that started, she's grown steadily softer beside him, curves pressing against his body where there were once hard planes and sharper angles. Her presence is no less warm and comforting than it had been from the beginning, though, her weight and smell familiar, the steady rhythm of her breathing when it finally evens out the same.
Eddie wonders if they were supposed to have stopped doing that, somewhere along the way–the sleeping together part, even though they're only doing it in the most platonic, just-friends sort of way possible. Then again, he's never put all that much stock in it, what he is and isn't supposed to be doing. Besides, how much difference could stopping really have made? Not a whole hell of a lot, in his opinion, considering they've both been bi as fuck the whole damn time.
Sharing a bed all the time doesn't really help his other problem–the staring, the thinking about Stevie's plush curves and soft skin–but that's his own shit to deal with and work out. Stevie shouldn't have to suffer through the nights alone just because Eddie can't keep his hard on for her in check.
So, yeah. He thinks she’s a knockout–of course he does–but the truth is, that’s all secondary to the way he feels about her. She’s steadily grown into one of his best friends, in the time since he’s finally gotten to actually know her. And if all he ever gets to do is look–and better yet, talk to her, bicker and joke and tease, share popcorn at movie nights crammed too close together on the Harrington’s couch and laugh at all the same stupid inside jokes–well, he considers himself honored for the privilege of it. 
“What, Munson?” Stevie laughs suddenly, drawing him out of his reverie–during which he had, of course, still been staring–by smacking him lightly on the arm with her comic book. 
That had been another secret, shared between them–Stevie liked the X-Men, she’d confessed, even if she couldn’t resist pretending otherwise to Dustin. She said the Mutants made her feel…seen, in a way she really hadn’t ever before. 
"I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart," Eddie had agreed easily when she told him. 
"Kinda figured you might, Eds,” she had shot him a soft smile, which he returned in kind.
That feeling of being seen–understood–stretched out beyond the pages of the comic book to encompass them both, the way they just fundamentally got each other.
"Mystique's got nothing on you, though," he had added with a wink, falling back on his old routine of borderline flirtation just for the pleasure of seeing her blush yet again, ducking her head as she gave his shoulder an exasperated nudge.
He blinks back to reality, finds himself looking into those same mesmerizing eyes now, big and brown and staring back at him expectantly. A smile plays at the corners of Stevie’s mouth as she puts her comic aside. Scooting closer, she reaches to give one of his test booklet pages a quick shake. 
"You're supposed to be studying, you know. Believe me, I get how hard that can be, and I wasn't exactly the best in school…but I'm still like 99% sure you at least have to look at the page before you get it,” she teases. “And I haven’t got the answers to this question secretly penciled somewhere up my sleeve, promise. So, not really sure how staring at me is gonna help you here."
Eddie studies her face–the amused pink curve of her mouth, the cute little moles that dot her cheeks and throat. 
That wistful sigh finally escapes him.
“Shit, sorry,” he apologies on autopilot, and then, the confession rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, “you’re just so…fucking pretty.”
As soon as the words have left his mouth, he cringes, preparing to blurt out yet another apology–and then Stevie’s finger presses against his lips. When he glances at her, he finds that her whole face has lit up. 
Well, fuck. If she’s gonna look at him like that, he can’t even be sorry for his big mouth.
Then, surprise of all surprises–he feels a jolt as she leans in and pecks him once on the cheek, lips smooth from her cherry chapstick. 
“Thanks. You’re sweet, Eddie,” Stevie murmurs, quietly, as she pulls back. Then, her smile turns mischievous, pretty eyes giving one of her patented, exasperated eyerolls. “And good of you to finally say something about it.”
Eddie barks out a disbelieving laugh before he can help it, hiding his face for a moment between his fingers.
“Seriously, Harrington, you know you’re a total babe.”
“Yeah, sure,” Stevie agrees, a glimmer of that overconfidence she’d carried herself with in school shining out. Eddie can’t even lie–he loves it. “But a girl still likes to hear it, now and again.”
“Shit, Stevie.” Head still ducked, Eddie reaches out slowly and takes her hand, twiddling with her fingers as he looks up from beneath the fringe of his bangs. “Now that I know you want me, too–I’ll tell you anytime you want.”
Reaching forward, Stevie tucks a tuft of hair behind Eddie’s ear, not letting him hide behind the curtain of it. Then, she leans in, and this time she presses a soft kiss to his lips. 
Eddie sucks in another sharp, surprised breath, finally tasting that cherry flavor for himself. 
“I’m totally gonna hold you to that one, Eds,” she says, leaving their foreheads pressed gently together even once she pulls back, “so just get ready for it.”  
But, then, a mere moment later, Stevie is bouncing backwards on the bed, giggling when Eddie leans in, trying to chase after her lips again. He groans as she picks up his booklet and presses it against his chest. 
“You can check me out all you want later, stud,” Stevie shoots him a wink, flipping open to the page he had left off on. “But, for now…you’ve gotta get back to work.”
When she settles down beside him this time, though, she stays close, hooking her chin over his shoulder. 
“And, I’ve got an idea. A tried and true method for studying. Works every time.” 
“That right?” Eddie tilts his head to face her, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, lay it on me, then, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”
He taps a finger lightly against her temple. The playful twinkle in Stevie’s eyes as she grins at him makes Eddie’s heart skip a bit.
“How about…I give you a kiss for every question you get right?” she murmurs, close enough her warm breath ghosts over his skin. 
Eddie lets his eyes drop down to the red shine of her lips, and feels giddy, for once, knowing he can look his fill. After a long, loaded pause, he gives a sharp nod, clapping his hands together.
“You know what, Stevie? Studying never sounded so good.” Snatching up his pen again, he settles back with the test now spread across both their laps. “I’m in.” 
And, this time, whenever Stevie distracts Eddie from his studies–well. At least he can tell himself it’s all in the name of a good cause.
423 notes · View notes
eli0004 · 1 month
Text
Rain, Rain
Sub!Levi x Gn! Reader
Synopsis: not much of a plot, just messing around with Levi in an office while it’s storming outside.
Warnings: hand job, fist-fucking, praise, very slight pain pain play, love confessions, very soft sappy shit
A/N: This was finished way sooner than i thought it would be, i got carried away 😭 also i couldn’t think of a title that wasn’t cringe, please ignore how cliche that one is.
Before everything went to shit, this kind of rain was the biggest inconvenience for the people within the walls. Closing down market stalls, turning the grass all muddy and the sky bleak and grey. You could almost hear it, the grumbling and moaning on the streets about when this dreadful weather would pass. Nowadays, however, no one bats an eye.
You’d never minded the rain, and truthfully, neither did Levi. It’s good weather for reading indoors, or lulling you both to sleep on nights when your mind is particularly active. Often, the two of you find yourselves sitting by the window, watching the storm clouds rolling in and lighting flashing, commentating to one another every now and again when a particularly loud rumble of thunder cracks through the silence. And the rain is especially lovely when it allows you to tangle up together after particularly difficult expeditions, soft touching and gentle kisses to the sound of the droplets drumming on the window panes.
Almost as if thinking of him summoned him to your door, Levi emerges with two steaming cups, placing one on the desk in front of you.
“It’s really coming down out there.” He gestures towards the window, bringing the cup to his nose and softly inhaling the fragrant aroma before taking a sip.
“It is, isn’t it. I wonder how much longer it’ll go on for.” You respond, glancing down at the black tea in front of you. “Have you got a new one?” You ask. He nods once.
“New shipment, i like this one more than the last one i got. It was dreadfully weak.”
You chuckle softly, taking a sip and nodding. “It is stronger, hm?”
There’s a moment of silence before he speaks up again, and you notice how he has subtly inched himself closer to you.
“The rain made me think of you this morning. I wish we could’ve just taken the day off.”
He doesn’t look away from the window, but you know him well enough by now to know that there is subliminal meaning behind his words. Levi has been missing you.
“I’m glad you’re here now, let’s spend some time together, forget about today.” You reach out to beckon him closer. He willfully obeys, placing a hand on the arm of your chair and leaning down to kiss you. But you pull him in closer, and he rests his weight on his knees, placing them on either side of you. Cupping his cheek gently, you brush a thumb over his lip, leaning in once more.
Your lips meet his, ever so softly, and Levi feels like he’s floating. Nimble fingers find their way, trembling slightly, to the roots of your hair as he allows himself to melt into you completely. Your arms snake around the curve of his lower spine, pulling him down so that he is no longer hovering above you, but now sitting firmly on your lap, knees straddling your thighs. At this, he lets out a soft whimper, but it’s nearly inaudible- disappearing where your lips connect.
Levi is no stranger to this, the two of you have engaged in this sort of heavy kissing in the dark many times, but at this moment he feels strangely vulnerable. Desperation is slowly chipping away at his resolve, and suddenly he’s thinking about how it feels- having you touch more of him, peeling off his clothes. He can almost feel the warmth of your palms against his bare skin. It’s in that moment that he realizes he wants all those things. Levi wants you.
You take notice in this shift in energy, if not by the eagerness with which he’s kissing you, needy and open mouthed, then by the hardness of his cock pressing into your stomach, now noticeable through his uniform pants. You don’t push, opting to see just how far he takes things on his own initiative.
You bring one hand up to the back of his head, affectionately tugging at the thick, inky-black strands of hair. His grip on your own hair tightens at this, and he groans softly against your lips, breaking the kiss only for a moment before returning again with three times the desperation. Returning your hand to his waist, you attempt to pull him impossibly closer. Close is not enough.
Levi gasps, breathing air straight from your lungs as the motion of your adjustments sends him slightly forward, his erection pressing deliciously against your lower stomach. The feeling sends his mind reeling, and he experimentally rolls his hips forward again in attempts to replicate the feeling. At the sight of him unraveling before you, so sensitive to every touch, you raise a brow, smirking against his lips.
“You ok, Levi?” You whisper, eyes meeting his in the darkness for only a moment before he casts them downward again. He hesitates, as if he’s about to make a decision that will change the course of his entire life, hands dropping from your hair and down to his lap.
“Yeah, i’m fine. Do you think…tonight would be a good night to…y’know…” he feels his cheeks burn, fingers fidgeting with a loose thread on the chair-cushion as he awaits your response. You grin softly, rubbing your palms up and down his thick thighs, softly kneading at them.
“I’m not sure i do, what is it you’re asking for?”
“Tch…you do know, I’m being serious.” He scolds you, rolling his eyes. “I want to.”
Your eyes finally meet his as he absentmindedly leans in a bit closer, and you take notice of newfound vulnerability that shines through them. His gaze is soft and longing- a stark contrast to his usual laser-focused expression- and you bring a hand up to trace a finger, softly over the wrinkles it’s left behind. Over the crease between his brows, the crows feet by his eyes, the dark bags beneath them from his many nights of exhaustion. He leans into your touch, and you speak through the silence.
“I love you.”
Levi is unable to stop the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and he crashes them against yours once again before you can comment on it. His kisses are heated, almost aggressive, and for a split second you’re taken aback by it, closing your eyes and letting your grip on his thighs loosen.
His hands find your shoulders, sliding up your neck, cupping your cheeks gently before re-tangling his fingers into your hair. You hum softly against his lips, and he slips his tongue into your mouth just enough to tease. Unsatisfied, you allow one arm to pull him snugly against you again, bringing your other to grip the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and forcing your tongue past his lips. He moans softly at this, exhaling through his nose.
Levi grinds himself forward against your stomach once again, languidly rolling his hips and pressing his dick firmly against your abdomen. By now, your mind is reeling with the thought of having him do this without those god forsaken pants to get in the way. Breaking the kiss, you look down, snapping open the buckle of his belt and nearly tearing the zipper of his pants down. He lifts himself up off your lap to shimmy out of them, tearing off his shirt in the process, as you peel off your own shirt.
Once restrictive fabric is discarded, Levi re-positions himself on top of you, shivering slightly as the air nips at his bare skin. You don’t notice the chill, already busy pressing open mouthed kisses to his bare shoulders, over his collar bone, the skin of his neck. Levi tilts his head back ever so slightly, arching his back as you trail your fingers, feather-light, down his spine. How desperately you want to leave marks there on the column of his throat, not as an act of possession, but to serve as a reminder of this moment for you to look back on tomorrow morning when the two of you must get up and dressed before sunrise. To watch him anxiously adjust his collar, making sure to hide the evidence from any wandering eyes.
Breaking away from him, you drop your gaze down to observe the wet spot seeping through the front of his underwear. You take a minute to admire the product of your ministrations, before bringing a finger to trace the dampness there. He gasps, head falling forward and bangs flopping over his eyes.
“Don’t tease, damn it…please” he breathes, shakily against your ear. “I want you.”
“I can tell.” You chuckle. Deciding against waiting any longer, you hook your index finger into the waistband of his underwear, pulling it forward to let his cock spring up against his lower belly, smearing that slick wetness below his navel, before letting go and watching it snap against his length like a rubber band. He jumps, surprised at the sting. “Hah…ouch!”
“I want these off too.”
He lifts once again to kick off the final layer, leaving him fully exposed, returning to you to present himself at your mercy. His tongue is poking through his lips as he watches you curiously, as if to try and predict your next course of action.
You place a hand on his hip, smoothing a thumb over the bone and gazing up at him lovingly. Your other hand finds its way to his stomach, open palm and fingers splayed, running it all the way up to his chest and up to his jaw, gently forcing him to look at you.
“You’re so beautiful, every inch of you, I’m enamored by it all. You know that?” He rolls his eyes, and you wrap your other hand around the base of his cock, squeezing slightly.
“Hnn..ah!” He chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut.
“You know that, Levi?” He nods, frantically, and you’re unsure if he even remembers what you’re asking, his body is melting into you, hunching forward. Chuckling softly, you begin to slowly slide your hand up and down, languidly. Thumb circling his tip every so often, spreading the pre-cum down his shaft.
Levi lets his head fall against your shoulder, huffing against your neck, his rib cage expanding and contracting with every breath. You trace over his chest, over his peaked nipple, pinching and rolling it gently between your thumb and forefinger as you continue to stroke him off, and his breath catches in his throat.
“F-fuck~” he whimpers out, jaw slackening as you speed up your pace and tighten your grip. His hips lurch forward and his hands are searching for something to hold onto, settling on gripping the back of your chair with white knuckles, snaking his other arm around your neck and pulling you closer to him, almost in a hug. You can feel his abdominal muscles beginning to tense, and you slow your pace, but Levi isn’t willing to wait any longer. His hand falls from the back of your chair to grab onto your wrist.
Holding it steady, he begins thrusting his hips forward, fucking your hand like it’s sheer instinct. Any other time, you’d stop him, but seeing him so fucked out and desperately humping into your closed fist is what prevents you from doing so. This isn’t something you see often.
Levi is dangerously close, moaning against your ear long and drawn out. Holding him close, you press your mouth against his ear and whisper “good boy, so good. You need to cum? Let go for me, ok?”
His eyes roll back, lids fluttering closed as he freezes, holding his breath for a second as his hips stutter “ah-ah oh god, fuck, i love you, i love you, i love you” he rasps out, gushing thick, creamy ropes over your fist, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as it tears through him. You smile softly at his confession and it’s timing, allowing him to guide your fist over his length to milk himself of any last drops.
And as his breathing slowly returns to normal, his tired body slumps against your own. The rain outside has begun to die down, now only a soft drizzle. You hold him there, as long as he needs, tracing shapes over the skin of his bare back. In the end though, it’s Levi who breaks the silence, whispering against your skin
“let’s get to bed, we can…uh…spend more time together there.”
264 notes · View notes
wholoveseggs · 2 months
Note
I also have another one!! I’d love to see like Rebekahs friend(the reader) and Elijah’s love story. Like how they met(maybe in the Victorian age or Viking) and just them through the eras! If that is something you would be interested in doing! Like no problems just a cute little thing about their story through the time 💕💕 as always no pressure 💕
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Worth the wait
18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You and Elijah are childhood friends, dipping in and out of each others lives for the past one thousand years. You hope that one day you will have a chance to be together and find the love you've always longed for.
♡♡ Thanks for the requests @ashloring & @loving-and-dreaming I got these requests back to back and I thought they were perfect combined together. Sorry it took so long, I really wanted to do this story justice... hopefully it is... ♡♡
7.1k words - Warnings: smut, angst, reminiscing, playful sex, Elijah being very silly and sappy.
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You were always fated to love him from afar. From the first moment you ever laid eyes on Elijah — you knew deep down that you would love him as long as you lived. What you didn't know was how long that would be.
You grew up together in a quaint viking village, learning to hunt and forage. He pushed you around, pulled your braids and teased you. You gave back as much as you got, biting and scratching until you were both on the ground tousling around in a full blown battle to prove who was the winner.
The nature of your play fighting changed when you became teenagers, arms still grabbing, but now holding a little bit longer, hands lingering, brushing one anothers faces. Eyes meeting, always with a blush and hasty awkward parting.
When his mother caught you laying on his bed together, fully clothed with a few shy pecks here and there, she sent you away. From that point on, you barely spoke, too embarrassed and flustered to communicate.
You grew up and grew apart, watching him and his family from afar. There was always a darkness over the Mikaelson household, a lingering sense of unease that kept everyone in the village back.
Still the sight of him was enough to brighten your day. Even though you stayed far away from him and his family, Elijah often found you sitting near him, the two of you were simply drawn to each other.
Life was perfect and peaceful until one night, screams echoed in the darkness, sending you from the safety of your bed. It was coming from his home, so you quickly grabbed the only weapon you could find and ran towards the sound.
What you found was beyond anything you could imagine, death and magic combined as the family mutated into a monster to rival the ones of mythological tales.
Esther spotted you and forced you to your knees, laying beside Elijah's body as she began her spell. Once you were tied by mystical cords you didn't understand, she muttered the same incantations she had spoken over each of her children.
That was your last night as a human, the last night you were alive.
Life as an original vampire was unexpected, it came with anger, lust, bloodlust, and unmatched supernatural strength that took adjusting.
Luckily you weren't entirely alone, you had the Mikaelson siblings, teaching each other, being patient, especially Elijah. Together you mastered every nuance in becoming the strongest predator there was.
While you may have been turned against your will, you quickly accepted this new existence. The freedom that came with an endless future proved rewarding with each sunrise.
But soon the prospect of an endless future turned into a curse and you learned the only true enemy of an original was time itself.
Eternity felt hollow as you watched every friend you made grow old and die while you were forced to continue on. Leaving you, haunted and depressed with no escape in sight.
And the only group of people who understood your plight suffered from their own problems. You spent your first five hundred years with them, moving around from country to country before you needed to take a long break from them.
You hoped that Elijah would always keep his heart, stay gentle and kind, but that was impossible. He matured into someone cunning and ruthless, his humanity slowly slipping away, tainted by the brutalities of this life.
The constant bickering, hateful arguments and petty jealousy between them drove you away. After those years you decided to live independently, only visiting the Mikaelson's every couple centuries, trying your best to keep hold of your humanity, while feeling lost in the ever flowing sea of time.
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You sat out front a quiet little cafe, sipping on a espresso and browsing your phone. Modern technology was still such a trip to you, just one change after another in an impossible to keep up with world. Everyday some new gadget popped up.
You remembered a time when it took weeks to travel from one place to another. For a letter to make its way took months. And now you could press a button on the piece of glass in your hand and have a face to face conversation with someone on the other side of the world.
It was fascinating, these human inventions that filled their mundane lives. You envied how enraptured they were in their invented distractions. Not everything changed, humans were still so desperate for a simple illusion to fill the boredom of the days drudgery.
But today wasn't an ordinary day for you, today you had a date. Or at least, you wanted it to be a date, Elijah probably saw it as just meeting up with an old friend.
He sat down across from you, handsome as ever, elegant and charming, just as you remembered. Dressed in a black suit, the perfect mix of old fashioned and contemporary.
But when he smiled at you, all your trepidation melted away. It was the same familiar smile you fell in love with, holding that bright twinkle in his eyes and showing off those dimples.
"It's been a while," he said with a faint smile.
"Just a little," you smirked playfully.
He always had the same mannerisms, crossing his legs and holding his body with poise. However in the centuries you spent around him, you learned all his tells. The way he always touched his face when uncomfortable, his tendency to play with his hands.
"How have you been?" he asked, leaning back in his seat as he ordered a cup of coffee.
He politely thanked the waitress that delivered it, before taking a sip, his dark eyes set intensely on yours.
"Me, oh I've been..." you let your voice trail off for a moment, swallowing the memories that threatened to steal your poise.
But Elijah knew what you were thinking, not having seen one another for so long, the memories of the last time you saw eachother tried to force their way back to the front of your mind.
It was the 1950s, and you ran into him in New York of all places. It was the first time you thought you actually had a real chance with him, but he was plagued by his missing siblings, his rage at his brother turned him into a man you barely recognized.
Watching him torture people for information, murdering innocent bystanders didn't seem out of the ordinary anymore, this new Elijah was beyond ruthless. He was a man devoted only to killing his enemies.
Today he seemed far different, poised and kind. The Elijah you fell in love with as a girl had somehow resurfaced and seemed quite eager to make your acquaintance. Or perhaps you just wanted to see him as the man you have always loved, a possibility of a future with him you always dreamed of.
"I guess we haven't really kept in touch," you murmured softly. "I've been off doing my thing and I've missed you more than words could say. Though... you obviously haven't missed me, being so busy playing king of the vampires," you teased him.
"Well someone has to keep the order," he said with a smirk.
"And you think you're the best man for the job?" you raised your brows.
His gaze met yours, he couldn't help the nostalgia that built up in him. Seeing you staring at him, reminded of the times when he first fell in love with you. He had both just turned thirteen and it was like he was seeing you for the first time, dancing around the fire with ribbons in your hair. All the times he would look at you, getting flustered, only to see you looking back at him with the same unspoken feeling between you.
"Well it's either me or Niklaus," Elijah answered as he took a drink.
"Fair enough," you laughed softly and sighed.
Elijah loved that laugh, the way it made your eyes light up. His heart melted, seeing you looking so beautiful. He never stood a chance, you could have your pick of any man, ones who would worship the ground you walked on, ones that could give you a happy life.
"I trust the family is doing well?" you asked with an even gaze.
He nodded. "I have a niece now, Hope. She's brought light back into my family," he smiled slightly.
You loved seeing him this way, happy and hopeful, exactly the way it should be.
"I can't believe it, Niklaus a father. Angels weep," you jested with a laugh.
"Well sometimes you have to set aside your misgivings and make room for surprises," he smirked.
"Spoken like a true mediator," you replied, toasting him with your mug.
You talked for what seemed like forever, catching up on lost time, simply taking in one another's presence. His gaze lingered on you, admiring your confidence. You've always had that glow, drawing everyone in with your easy nature.
"Now tell me, how was your time in Paris?" Elijah asked curiously.
"Has Elijah Mikaelson been keeping tabs on me?" You teased him and laughed.
"I've managed to keep track of a few things," he smirked.
"Nothing you didn't already know, I've spent the past few decades indulging in one thing or another," you answered honestly. "Wine, art, food, sex…”
"How do I fall into those categories?" he chuckled, cocking his head to the side.
"Hmmm, I want to say art but I don't want to feed your ego, so wine it is," you grinned.
"Not sex?" he questioned with a grin.
You shrugged and sipped on your drink, trying to conceal the hot blush spreading over your skin.
"I wouldn't know, now, would I?" you teased him.
It was meant to be a question, that's what you intended, however it came out as an admission and you winced slightly, embarrassed that your nerves were starting to take over.
Elijah loved flirting with you, it felt different than with anyone else, there was something about it, like he was doing it for the first time, all nerves and awkwardness. He saw the flush and pink in your cheeks, the same sweet little blush from a thousand years ago, he knew you felt the same way.
"Would you like to?" he asks curiously.
"Please, Elijah..." you laughed off his question.
You shuffled in your seat nervously. Not believing that Elijah had actually seen the potential for romance. He was just teasing, friendly banter between old friends.
"How's your dating life?" You asked, steering the conversation away from the uncomfortableness you were feeling.
"You're asking me out?" he smirked.
"Fuck off," you chuckled playfully. "I was only going to ask if you are still pinning after Katherine," you teased.
"Now who's keeping tabs?" He countered with a smile.
"Do you blame me? C'mon, give me all the delicious gossip."
"Well.. I finally found her. We had lots of sex, then I dumped her," he quipped.
"Oh my, Elijah, a heartbreaker," you smirked.
"Yes, that's me. Now you, I've always wondered who you were with?" Elijah brought the attention back to you, waiting for an explanation.
You rolled your eyes and relaxed into the chair. "Men, women, witches, werewolves…” you joked.
"Not sex, I meant love. Did you meet anyone that holds your heart?" He clarified, fiddling with his hands under the table, both excited and nervous to hear what you had to say.
You got a little flustered and swallowed, shrugging it off as nothing. There was no one. You certainly met some contenders over the years, but no one came close to the man that sat across from you.
"Love is exhausting," you replied casually. "Much like everything in this life, it's all the same. At the end of the day, you're left feeling empty."
He listened. He understood what you mean, eternity can feel so empty. But he felt an optimism when he was around you, no longer did he feel chained to life, to time.
"I don't agree," he murmured softly, "I think you just haven't found it yet."
"Elijah, c'mon," you laughed a bit and shook your head.
It seemed as though every date you had in the last ten centuries paled in comparison. When you were with him it just felt different, it wasn't lust, or an insatiable need to be around him. It was peace, it was comfort, he felt like home and it was special.
"No, really," he paused and smiled softly. "C'mon, lets go for a walk, I'll show you," he stood up, reaching his hand towards you.
You stood, and began walking, chatting about old times. He reminded you of the day you spent together in 1599 where you saw Shakespeare's Julius Caesar at the Globe theater, both of you sitting up in the rafters with the best view there was.
One thing led to another and the two of you ended up chasing one another all around the city, drinking far too much rum and dramatically reenacting the stabbing in a fit of giggles.
You reminded him of the time in the 1650s in Spain where you witnessed a beautiful redhead attempt to flirt with him by twirling her fan and covering half her face. It just resulted in the both of you mocking her mercilessly, a small giggle escaped your lips when you remembered his laughter.
"She was so in love with you, but could barely hold a conversation with you, what was her name? The one with all the freckles," you chuckled.
"Ugh... not Silvia. I haven't thought about her in a very long time. Fortunately she went and married some merchant banker and left me alone," he chucked, guiding you towards a nearby garden.
You walked down a tree-shaded path, crossing a bridge over a trickling creek, and past the playground where children giggled as they played. Elijah led you towards a gazebo, passing by an elderly couple enjoying a lazy Sunday afternoon.
"I thought you were going to show me how to find love?" you teased, elbowing him playfully.
He chuckled and put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close against him.
"Look at them over there, two people growing old together," he said softly, nodding towards the couple."That's a beautiful story right there, it goes from meeting, to dating, to falling in love, to having a marriage full of ups and downs. Every difficult time, every disagreement, every moment of compassion and reassurance is enough to have them stay together." He looked at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
You listened closely, hanging on every word, studying his expression. Looking up at him as the sunlight came shining through the leafy branches of the trees.
"I bet if we asked them they would tell us the secret to it all," you said quietly, looking back over at the little old couple.
They were wrapped up in their own world, swaying ever so slightly to the soft music playing nearby. Their love for one another so bright.
Elijah stood and walked over to them, sitting down on the bench next to him. You paused for a moment and then followed him, moving to the empty spot beside him.
"Excuse me," Elijah spoke in a voice hushed and sincere. "We just wanted to know," he continued, gently compelling them to answer, "what is the secret of love?"
"Well, I guess, patience," the woman answered sweetly.
The man slowly blinked, his head cocking to the side as he answered, "trust, communication, passion..."
"What is your favorite memory together?" You asked politely, leaning forward.
They looked at one another and burst into hearty, genuine laughter.
"Doing dishes, long drives, waking up to breakfast in bed, cuddling under a blanket in the winter, or just a hug after a bad day..." she answered wistfully.
"All the quiet moments in-between, like coming home after a hard day of work and changing into our comfy clothes," he paused and grabbed her hand, "putting on a movie and just ordering in. We can lay there in one another's arms, always together in that bubble of comfort."
You smiled softly. There's something about the simplicity of it, and the sheer joy in doing those things with the one you love. The ordinary and everyday.
Elijah glanced over at you with a smile, then thanked the couple.
"Thank you, you've been wonderful," Elijah finished kindly.
"I hope you and your lady are just as happy as we are," the man said, turning to kiss his wife lovingly on the cheek.
"I'm sure of it," Elijah stood up and began walking away, holding his hand out for you.
You stood up and intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze as you mouthed a thank you towards the elderly man.
"Does that answer your question? Love just happens and it's imperfectly wonderful," Elijah said simply.
"Have you ever found a love like that?" you asked curiously.
He paused and a thoughtful expression fell over his face, wondering where to begin. He placed his hand over yours, stroking the back of your knuckles as he looked deep into your eyes, confessing a feeling he's hidden all this time.
"Only once, when I was too young to understand what I had," he admitted softly. "We were only children then."
Your heart began to beat faster, hearing him say it out loud made your breath hitch in your throat.
"And what about now?" You asked in a near whisper, afraid of what he would say, but unable to live without the answer.
He grinned and suddenly scooped you up, throwing you over his shoulder, just like when you would play flight as children.
You squealed and laughed out in delight.
"What are you doing?" You giggled loudly, slapping his back, but he simply ignored you.
"Reminiscing," he answered swiftly.
"This is hardly reminiscing," you teased.
"To me it is, with you in my arms, laughing," he added cheekily.
You were incredibly flustered, but you didn't want this to stop. It was silly, and unexpected and made you think about all the times you two were together as children. It made you feel as you always did with him, free, alive, all nerves and blushing and awkward touches.
So you just rested your chin against him and giggled loudly as you watched the ground pass by underneath you.
"Where are you taking me?" you questioned softly.
He smiled and didn't answer, biting his lip as he tightened his grip on you.
It didn't take long for you to spot the bridge you walked over, carrying you out onto the sidewalk outside the gardens.
He pulled you up and set you back on your feet, both of you giggling breathlessly, your hands on his chest, his hands on your waist.
The two of you stood there for a moment, eyes scanning one another's face, catching your breaths and gazing longingly. His gaze focused on your lips, while yours focused on his eyes, the fondness in them made your cheeks heat up.
His grip tightened around you, your hands fisting in his shirt as he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.
You swore you could have floated away that moment. His hands cradled your face as you pulled him closer. Your lips parting for him as he deepened the kiss.
You pulled away from the kiss after a moment. "Can we talk about that for a minute?" you said, your gaze fell away, finding it hard to meet his eyes, your heart felt like it would burst from the surges of love that came pouring out.
He shook his head and kissed you again, brushing his nose against yours, a smile across his lips.
"Lets not speak... lets keep kissing," he whispered with a soft laugh.
You smiled and closed your eyes, tilting your head back, enjoying the feel of him loving you after such a long time. The feel of his body against yours.
He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes and just taking a moment to enjoy your company. The feeling of your breath against his skin.
"So... let's talk," he smirked against your lips and traced his fingers down the side of your face.
He felt you nod. "Mmm, in bed," you murmured and stole another kiss.
"Okay," he nodded and swiftly scooped you into his arms.
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"Nice place," you commented lightly as your eyes scanned over the art and furniture in the compound. "I can see you were in charge of the decor," you said cheekily.
He laughed. "Naturally, darling," he replied. "Klaus is always out for blood and I had to ensure it wasn't on every wall."
Elijah led you down a hallway to a lavish bedroom, opening the door and ushering you in, shutting it carefully behind him. He held you close, his hand on your waist, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear and pulling you in for a kiss.
"Do you remember the last time we were in bed together?" He asked softly.
"You brought me into your home under false pretenses, you said you were going to show me a dagger your father had," you replied, recalling the time you were teenagers, kissing in his bed, all nerves and eagerness.
"I really did want to show you that dagger, my intentions were innocent that evening," he protested lightly. "But then you laid down on my bed, making yourself at home, and there you were, wearing such a sweet little dress with such tantalizing seams all over."
"I can't believe you remember the dress I was wearing," you said, placing your hands on his chest and toying with the buttons of his shirt.
He chuckled. "I remember everything about that day," he smiled, "it was my first kiss, how could I not memorize every detail?"
"What else do you remember?" You asked softly, looking into his eyes.
"I remember laying down beside you, I was so nervous," he admitted softly. "We laid on our backs for a while, just chatting. Your hand brushed against mine and I wrapped my fingers with yours, scared you would push me away," he looked away, lost in the memory, smiling softly.
"I was so sure that you would, but you didn't and we grew quiet, all nerves, side by side." He looked back at you, a twinkle in his eye.
"We could hear the sounds of the village outside as it prepared for the feast. We laid there like that, my heart racing, thumb tracing your palm. I turned to face you, you wore this little shy smile. And there I was, frozen by the way you looked."
"Your hair was braided and those perfect lips were slightly parted," he cupped your cheek, grazing his thumb over your bottom lip. "I was terrified to mess it all up."
You were speechless, all you could do was smile and laugh softly. He began to guide you back towards his bed, still talking as he undressed you slowly, "But we laid there just staring, and gazing into each other's eyes. Slowly I leaned closer, so close we were breathing each other in, just sharing a breath, trying not to spook one another."
"And then, before I knew it, your lips found mine and all of my nervousness melted away. Slow, soft kisses, that little braid tickling my neck and the taste of the berries you had earlier still sweet on your lips."
You blushed at the memory, his words making you tear up, you couldn't believe he remembered.
"Your hands were shaking against my chest, so I lifted them to my lips," he stopped talking for a moment, reenacting the memory by kissing your hands once more.
"Then your mother walked in," you commented, smiling at his gesture.
He smirked against your skin. "Well, before she did," he began, he spoke softly as he slowly unzipped the back of your dress, letting it fall to your feet. "I was... learning the taste of your lips," he continued slowly. "They still taste the same, lovely and sweet,"
His eyes scanned over you, taking in the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world, right there in his room, standing there in nothing but a lacy black bra and underwear.
You smiled and tugged on the buttons of his shirt, eagerly undoing them and pushing his shirt off of his shoulders as you began kissing along his jaw.
"It feels like yesterday," you whispered, moaning against his lips as his hands went to your waist, his fingertips dancing over your skin.
The sensation tickled and made you giggle, trying to pull his hands away but that just sent a whole new wave of laughter bubbling out of you as he pulled you against him with a grin.
The two of you stumbled backwards to the edge of the bed, kissing deeply and continuing to undress each other as you fell onto the mattress in a fit of laughter.
He pinned you down, but you pushed him off, the two of you beginning to wrestle for the upper hand. You giggled and squealed as he tickled you mercilessly, kissing along your neck and biting playfully, all while his fingers danced and caressed over your stomach.
"Elijah, STOP! Hahaha," you pleaded, squirming beneath him. "Stop stop," you laughed.
"What's wrong, my little love," he asked playfully, grabbing your wrists in his hand and pinning them above your head.
You kissed him quickly, grinning when he released you, "Let me breathe!" you said with a laugh.
He smiled warmly, glancing down at your smiling lips. "You make me feel like a teenager again," he admitted softly, then began tickling your sides again, catching you off guard.
You squealed, squirming in his grip and playfully struggling to break free. You could feel his erection brushing against you, his hips pressing between your thighs as he continued to attack you.
"Eli!” You gasped, wriggling your body under him, wrapping your legs around his waist and flipping him over onto his back.
He was laughing along with you, his breathing heavy as he settled beneath you, grinning up at you. “I surrender, you have bested me,” he said, looking up at you in awe.
You smiled and sat back on his lap, "oh don't give me that cheeky grin," you replied, wrinkling your nose at him.
His hands fell to your thighs, squeezing them as he smiled. You rocked your hips slowly, grinding yourself on his cock. He moaned softly, his mouth hung open as he watched the way you moved above him. Your lace panties rubbing over the rough material of his pants.
"I've dreamed of this for centuries," he confessed in a whisper. "You on my lap, your hands on me, the beauty of your body..."
Your eyes glanced down as he spoke, admiring his abs and the V-shaped muscles running down below his waistband. You made eye contact and started to slowly unhook your bra, letting it fall to the ground before tossing it to the floor.
He groaned softly, admiring the softness of your breasts and the perk of your nipples. You caught him staring and smiled, taking his hands into yours and placing them on you, urging him to touch you.
He sat up, capturing a nipple between his lips, leaving a trail of kisses along your breasts, cupping and massaging them in his hands. He kissed up your chest to your neck and found your lips again, kissing you slowly and passionately. He broke the kiss, glancing into your eyes with a look of raw, aching love.
"You know what would have happened if my mother didn't walk in?" He murmured, keeping his voice low and hushed, nearly a whisper.
You simply shook your head.
"I would've put my head between these thighs," he continued, squeezing them in his strong hands. "I would've made you giggle and squirm until you surrendered to my lips," he grabbed your hips and rocked you along his length, making your breath hitch in your throat.
"You would've gotten me pregnant," you chuckled, thinking back to how naive and innocent the two of you were, no idea of the consequences of what you had been attempting.
He smiled and grabbed your face gently, "then I would have made you my wife," he grinned and leaned forward, whispering against your lips, "and we would have grown old together, watching our little ones run through the village... a full happy life," he kissed you again.
He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I always dreamed of waking up to your beautiful face every morning," he said softly. “Perhaps if time and circumstances treated us kindly…”
You felt a little sad at his words, imagining the perfect little life you could have had together. "I would have liked that," you said slowly, gazing into his kind eyes.
You held a gaze with him for a moment before kissing him again, reaching down to his pants, unbuttoning them with slow, careful movements. He watched as you tugged them down and off of his legs and then lowered down to kiss him again, rubbing your core against his length.
He pulled your panties to the side, tracing his fingers over your clit, rubbing it with slow and loving circles.
You broke the kiss, your forehead pressed against his, your eyes shut tightly as he pleasured you, massaging your clit with expertise. "‘lijah...," you let out a little moan. "Where did you learn that?"
He grinned, biting his lip as he watched the pleasure on your face. "I've been practicing with all these other women, waiting to have a chance with you." He replied.
You opened your eyes, an expression of faux hurt painted across your face. "Are you trying to say I was your last resort?"
He grabbed the back of your neck with a playful smirk, "you are my only choice, my love," he guided you back to his lips and kissed you deeply, his free hand cupping your ass, tugging you against him.
"Only choice," you repeated between kisses, grinding on his fingers as he pleased you.
"I love you, it was only ever you," he declared, his eyes scanning your face with intensity.
You smiled and stole another kiss from him. "Then, prove it," you whispered against his lips.
He grinned and pulled his hand away, suddenly ticking your sides again and making you laugh and whimper out playfully as he flipped you over onto your back.
You were laughing uncontrollably, grinning as you kissed him back while he tickled you. You gasped for air and submitted beneath him as he kissed and nipped his way down your body.
Finally, he made his way to your core, hooking a finger under the lace and pulling your panties down. He tossed them to the floor and dove in, draping your thighs over his shoulders, burying his mouth into you.
You gasped, laughing as you fell back onto the mattress, rocking your hips against him. He grinned up at you as he swiped his tongue over your clit.
"Allll these women, practice, and nothing to show for it," you sighed as you teased him, breathy and laced with laughter.
He looked up, a flash of competitiveness crossing his face as he eased two fingers inside you and nipped at the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Your teasing was replaced with mewls and moans as you ran your fingers through his hair and rode his tongue, soft curses and whispered pleas were all you managed to get out.
He closed his eyes and took his time, one hand around your thigh, stroking circles over your skin, while his tongue and fingers worked in union. He couldn't believe he had you, right here, and he intended to make you feel every bit of love he had to offer.
He smirked against your heat as you tightened your grip on his hair, pulling him closer, grinding your hips against his mouth. He has dreamed of this moment for one thousand years, but the real thing was so much better than he had ever imagined.
You trembled and squeezed your legs around him, moaning and gasping as you were pulled closer to your climax. He urged you on as you fucked his mouth, whimpering softly, your free hand bunched up the bed sheets.
The stimulation was too much as he hummed and sucked your clit, your body shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Your thighs gripped his head like a vice and your body stiffened as you cried out his name, digging your heels into the bed to try and ride it out on his mouth.
You tugged his head away, panting and trying to regain control of your body, your head still spinning.
You gasped and laughed, covering your face.
He smirked, as he wiped his mouth on your thigh.
You smiled down at him, "okay…maybe one thousand years was enough time to gain some skill," you chuckled, pulling him close for a kiss.
His hands trailed over your breasts, slowly kneading them and rolling your nipples between his fingers. You mewled softly against his lips, your nails digging into his shoulders.
He kissed your forehead, your nose and along your jaw, sucking a hickey into the side of your neck, watching it instantly heal. He could do this forever, tasting your skin and listening to the perfect little sounds you made.
You pushed gently on his chest, urging him to lay down, which he did happily, holding your hand as he laid on his back.
You peppered kisses down his neck to his chest, biting at his firm chest muscles and kissing down his toned abs, making your way to his erection.
"I've learned some skills as well," you teased, pressing kisses up the side of his length, placing a final kiss to the tip.
He groaned softly, smiling down at you, "oh really? I'd love to see that," he whispered encouragingly.
You opened your mouth slowly and lowered down, taking him all the way into your mouth. He moaned softly, tilting his head back and biting his lip as his fingers tangled in your hair.
You swirled your tongue around him, using the tips of your fingers to stroke the base, glancing up to watch the way his body reacted to your movements.
His lips were parted, his eyes shut. As his breathing grew ragged he smiled softly, letting his head fall back against the pillows as you pleasured him.
You hummed, bobbing up and down along his shaft, savoring the sweet sounds that left his throat.
He began to tug on your hair, taking handfuls as you quickened the pace, licking and sucking enthusiastically, slurping as you sucked on the tip.
You released his cock with a pop, stroking and pumping him in your hand, using your spit to keep it slick. You traced your thumb over the head, tapping him against your tongue.
He moaned softly, gripping the headboard with his free hand, slowly bucking his hips.
You took him in again, one final time, swirling your tongue, bobbing and sucking, pushing him all the way down your throat.
He let out a long, sexy groan as he reached his peak. "Yes, darling, yes... just like that...I'm-" he grunted, before spilling over your tongue with a deep, guttural moan.
You swallowed, licking and sucking him, milking him completely before pulling off. He stared down at you, his face was clenched and contorted, an expression of pure pleasure painted across his features. Then he sat up slowly pulling you against him in a messy kiss.
"How was that?" You asked softly against his lips.
He grinned against your mouth and kissed you again, cradling your face. "I don't think there are words that could describe...," he took a moment to catch his breath before continuing, his eyes lidded, still high on his climax. "How much I love you," he whispered against your lips.
"I bet you say that to every girl that has given you good head," you teased.
He furrowed his brow, watching your little grin. "Do you think I use that word lightly?... I love you, only you...," he pressed his forehead to yours and closed his eyes.
You ran your fingers through his hair, studying his features as you smiled.
"I love you too, Elijah," you whispered, pressing a slow, caring kiss to his lips.
You found yourself suddenly overwhelmed with love, with the memory of all the lost time you had missed with him. Tears formed in your eyes as you kissed him, causing him to break the kiss.
He studied your expression with worry. "What's the matter?" He asked softly.
"I don't want to miss another day," you replied, brushing away your tears, a goofy smile across your face.
He smiled at you with a chuckle. "Well, darling, we just have one thousand years of catching up to do," he said softly, wiping away your tears. "Not to mention all the other days to come after,"
You let out a little laugh as he pulled you into his arms, his strong hands roaming over your curves as he flipped you back underneath him.
"I can't wait," you said breathlessly, pulling him down for a passionate kiss.
Elijah smiled against your lips and kept one hand at your waist as he dragged the tip of his cock over your pussy, drenched from the pleasure and anticipation. He eased in slowly, sinking inside your warm center and muffling a groan against your neck. You let out a soft sigh, feeling so complete now that you were finally connected.
He lifted his head and gazed into your eyes, placing a hand against your cheek as he started to thrust slowly. He was quiet as he rolled his hips, his gaze flickering between watching his cock slowly sliding in and out of you, covered in your wetness, and you, biting your lip, your eyes squeezed shut as he filled you.
You moaned at his size, already sensitive from your last orgasm, the stretch felt amazing, your nails digging into his firm muscles. His large hands were clutched around your hips, steadying you as he fucked you in a slow, gentle pace.
"Listen to you," he grinned, "making such beautiful sounds for me," he praised, nipping at your ear.
His words went straight to your core as your breathing grew raspy, squeezing his cock so tightly that you pushed him out of you, moaning quietly.
"Mmm," he bit his lip, tapping his cock against your clit and then ran it back and forth over your wetness, admiring the view before guiding his cock back into you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked softly, dropping a kiss to your forehead.
You shook your head, your eyes still shut. "No, you are just...very well-endowed, that's all," you giggled..
He rocked inside you for a moment, his hands gripping your hips. "Should I stop?" He whispered.
"Don't you dare stop, you owe me one thousand years of this," you cupped his cheek, pulling his face to yours, pressing your lips together.
"Who am I to deny you?" He kissed you slowly, his tongue danced with yours as he found his rhythm again, thrusting deep, his hands holding your thighs open.
He bit your lip and gazed at you, still not totally believing the vision of beauty beneath him.
The pure sexual lust that had built up between you paired with the overflowing love you felt for each other, made everything more intense. Your orgasms building, the clench around his length, the grip of your hands on his muscles. It felt like time had stopped for you both, existing only in the carnal moment you were sharing.
He moaned as you tightened around him, pushing your knees up to your waist to deepen his thrust. He trailed one hand down your soft skin and ran a thumb over your swollen clit, rubbing it in slow, tender circles.
You gasped and whimpered out his name, you were so sensitive and yet were so close to tumbling over again, "please, don't stop," you whispered urgently, a pleading look in your eyes.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and continued rubbing your clit, rolling his hips, giving you long, passionate strokes.
"That's it, that's it," he whispered through grunts. "Just like that, my darling," he breathed, lowering down to kiss you.
The love you made was passionate and sweet, soft and timid. It felt like it was all meant to be, pure, passionate love, made only for each other.
He used all his willpower to hold back his own, wanting to feel you release around him. Your body slowly stiffened, squeezing around his length, making him moan deeply. He didn't stop moving, encouraging you with gentle words in your ear and kisses to your cheek.
He couldn't hold on any longer, feeling you twitch, your mouth hung open in a silent moan as you reached your peak. A quiet, guttural groan rumbled deep in his chest as he spilled his warm cum inside you.
He pressed his forehead to yours as he breathed heavily, whispering sweet praises and confessions as you both held one another, sharing small and gentle kisses.
He rolled on to his side, bringing you with him, keeping you connected and moving your thigh over his hip to bury himself deeper. Neither of you wanted to let go of the feeling of being joined.
He snaked one arm behind your back to draw you even closer, and reached the other up to brush your hair out of your face. He kissed you deeply and ran his fingertips over your soft skin, moving them up and down your back as you looked into one another's eyes.
"That was..." you sighed happily.
"Yeah..." He smiled softly and let his eyes wander over your features, as if trying to sear it into his brain.
"I can't believe we waited so long to do this," you whispered, stroking your hands up and down his arms.
"Our days of waiting are over," he smiled softly, leaning down to kiss you again. His mouth on yours, swallowing your little moans, his fingers stroking your sides, both of you completely consumed by the other.
The room was dimly lit, candle flames casting a warm glow around you. Time finally gave you a break, let you have this moment you both were longing for all these years.
He loved you. You loved him, and now you were finally together. After one thousand years, it was well worth the wait.
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moronkombat · 8 months
Note
can i request syzoth x reader fluff hcs ? 🫣
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You meet after the defeat of Shang Tsung
You're either from Outworld but well versed in human customs or are from Earthrealm
You work Liu Kang and company and you meet Syzoth through them
There is an immediately curiosity between the two of you and you both become fast friends
You teach Syzoth much about human customs and there are often hours spent with you reading him stories about Earthrealm.
He sits next you to always, your eyes glued to the book. He sits his an elbow resting on his knee and his chin cradled in his hand. He watches you read to him and he finds himself smiling
Soon the words you're saying go unheard as he can only focus on how peaceful you appear and how beautiful you sound
His smile is sappy and full of adoration when you see it, you ask him about it and he always says "I really like the way you read to me"
You're smiling then too and there's a moment of silence between the two of you where you're smiling to each other softly and eyes have that hint of longing
You continue to teach him about different human habits and he always seems a bit confused yet interested in them. He shares about his own customs and you're always happy to listen
I like to think that one day, after speaking about human practices he seems particularly keen on trying one. When you ask which he says he will show you
That's when he leans in and his lips lay over yours. Is it the most perfect of kisses? In technique no but to you it's the most perfect of kisses anyone could ever give
Once the kiss has ended he's blushing and his hand rubs the back of his neck. You happily, giddily wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him again and he's surprise but quick to melt into you
From that day onwards there is nothing separating you. He'll rest his head on your lap while you're kneeling in the grass and together you talk for hours
Leaves falling from the trees land on his nose and when he sneezes you laugh and suddenly he's enchanted by it. He wants to hear more of it and so he begins seeking to make you laugh as often as he can
He'll tickle you, chase you, move clumsily, whatever it takes to hear your music. Once the laughter has ended you always embrace him in a hug and share a tender kiss
When you walk together, he enjoys holding your hand. Being Zaterran, his hands are meant to rip and shred but when he's with you, he's okay with forgetting that. He's okay with using his hand for simple yet affectionate gestures
In fact, Syzoth is very into touching and feeling you. The warmth of your skin is so different to the cold flesh he wears and while he can be disguised to look humanoid, his body is still so cold and so he seeks out your warmth
He is especially fond when you trace of the ink of his tattooed skin. His eyes will close while the very tips of your fingers ghost over those patterns and he'll hum deep and low.
Often he doesn't notice when he's humming but you do. You notice each time and those vibrations your favorite lullaby. You'll lay your head and his chest and listen to them. His fingers will move through your hair or rub your back and together you lay in peace
To be with Syzoth is a very sweet and pure form of love and neither of you would change that
thankies for asking about fluffy syzoth i've been wanting to write him!!
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ceruleancattail · 3 months
Note
Nightfall AU, CANNOT stop thinking about the reader being so done with the world, just living their life just to live, on the outside they're more in the indifferent type but on the inside their thoughts are just a jumbled mess (Perhaps a customer doing something stupid, on the outside they'll be all indifferent, maybe even pretending they didn't see nothing but their thoughts are like.. 'What. The. F-")
Of course they're not stupid, they notice a lot of things, except most of the time they just ignore it, there's no time to be thinking about that when they've got a load of customers constantly entering and exiting their cafe, and it's not like they're being harmed.. The odd behavior are just weird, but it's not like they're doing any harm.. Atleast not yet.
That type of reader with Cater, Trey and Riddle? Just yandere content
Express
Tw: Yandere, mentions of gore and death
Nightfall Cater x reader, Nightfall Trey x reader, Nightfall Riddle x reader
Cater’s simply just thrilled.
He’s rather fond of leaning over the counter, cooing away at you. As sappy as his words tend to sound, the softness of his tone never matches the sharpness of his gaze. That piercing stare that seems to burn right through your flesh, staring into your very soul.
Did you really think he wouldn’t notice your annoyance? Cater’s literally the king of being two-faced. No matter how well you try to hide your frustration behind that placid expression of yours, there will always be a crack. A small one, perhaps. But a crack nonetheless.
It’s quite saddening that there’s a part of you that Cater isn’t privy too. After all, he spends most of the time thinking about you, looking at you… Scrolling through every single social media account you ever had, screenshotting the rare shots of your face. Peeking at you from across the street, hidden behind the tinted windows of his car. Or perhaps he’s nursing the same cup of steaming hot coffee, the fragrant liquid within long cold.
Just watching you.
Come on, can you really blame Cater? You look adorable no matter what you’re doing! Working hard at the cafe, preparing a steaming hot cup of coffee or tightening your apron in one fluid motion, he loves it all. Cater often offers to tighten it for you, but you turn him down just as often. Even despite your expressionless face, but Cater doesn’t miss that slight twitch of your lip.
You can’t keep anything from ol’ Cay Cay, so stop trying, okay?
Trey hardly ever misses anything.
It’s a necessary skill, in his line of work. Trey’s ember eyes more than used to surveying various areas. A velvet lined table, taking note of every single card played in a match. A shady bar, the faint outline of firearms visible under black blazers.
Although his favourite thing to look at lately has been you. Clad in that adorable apron of yours, rushing around your cafe to fulfil orders. His gaze flickers all over you, silently taking note of even the most minuscule changes in your expression, the stiffness of your limbs.
Don’t you know? Your shoulders tend to tense whenever someone annoys you, those tantilising lips pursing tightly together for a split second, before your face resumes your neutral expression. It all happens ever so smoothly, that one would miss the change if they weren’t looking.
The moment that expression slides onto your face, Trey’s pushing back his chair. Now, it wouldn’t do if anyone frustrates you to the point you break, would it? As someone who’s a regular at your cafe, he feels obliged to lend a hand with particularly difficult customers.
Carefully sliding his toned arm in between you and the aggressor, Trey shields you you with his build. Gently herding you back behind the corner as he attempts to reason with the unsatisfied customer. If they continue to be unreasonable… then perhaps they’ll meet with an unfortunate incident later.
Keep his cup warm for him in the meantime, darling. He’ll be back.
Riddle tends to lose his cool quickly.
Especially when it comes to the cafe… and you, he supposes. A cup of piping hot tea on his table, Riddle spends the time silently catching up paperwork, sneaking glances at you all the while. It’s hard to tear his eyes from you, unfortunately. There was a certain beauty in the way you worked, skilled hands preparing various little pastries, presenting them in such an appetising manner.
That’s when you seem the most relaxed, truly. Riddle enjoys watching you silently then, the papers in his hands long forgotten. That’s until your eyes meet, and your features freeze. Riddle has to pretend that he’s busy with work once again, before your features soften once more.
Even despite this, if Riddle thinks hard enough, he can just almost delude himself that you two are on a date. Well, until someone else enters, that is. Your face tends to harden then, a steely cool mask sliding into place. Riddle noticed you tend not to voice your opinion, especially with matters within the store.
Smile, nod. Try to pacify the customers, bending over backwards even, sometimes. He knows you try not to flitch whenever a fire-arm is swung around as a threat, whenever they get too close-
Riddle gets angry quite quickly.
Going from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. Soon, the cafe’s interior is splattered with red, Riddle’s hand clutching at the disgruntled customer’s collar. Dragging him out with the trash, where he belonged.
If you do not speak out, no matter.
Riddle Rosehearts will be happy to express your emotions on your behalf.
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dronebiscuitbat · 2 days
Text
Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 7)
The one thing Uzi did not mind about her transformation was her ability to fly alongside N during scavenging missions. He often had to slow down (thrusters will always be faster than manual flying), but it didn't seem to bother him in the least, especially when she was sharing her favorite songs with him over short-range.
And no, it didn't all consist of Nightcore thank you very much. She was sharing the ones she thought he would like.
Of course, N liked all of them, so she probably could blare Nightcore at full volume and he'd like it, but she was still keeping it mostly mainstream, mostly because he seemed to like singing lyrics if he knew them, which was fun!
Because he was good at it.
He nailed nearly every note so long as he was familiar with the song, and it was gorgeous, his voice smooth as butter and just high enough to reach the minor keys without sounding off.
And yes, it did make her core flutter like it was full of a million butterflies, but that was besides the point.
“Hang on, lemme give you this one.” She sent another over to him, her wings flapping above her as they both glided comfortably.
“How many do you have?!” N asked excitedly, although it was definitely in the sense that he was eager to hear all of them and not that he wanted her to stop.
“Years worth of emotional repression leads to years worth of saved angst, what can I say?” She replied, poking a little fun at herself, she pushed ahead as he opened the audio file, scanning the ground for any parts she needed.
This one was a little angry sounding, but the guitar was nice, and there was a woman singing in the background that he wished didn't sound so sad, but it was pretty, at the very least.
“Do you want me to just give you my playlist? I've kinda just been sending you singles from it this whole time.” She fell back in line with him, wings beating above her, wow, he never realized how strong they looked before.
“Yes!” He beamed, being ecstatic to listen to more, it was leagues better than anything he'd ever heard play at the manor, plus he felt as if he was learning quite a bit about her just through her saved songs.
He noted the complete lack of love songs, there were plenty of breakup songs, but it didn't seem that Uzi had either never felt that way about anyone or she may have just not liked the sappiness of them. He wasn't sure, he was kinda hoping for the latter, she deserved someone to make her happy, surely?
“Here. But we can't spend all night doing this, it not really what we're here for…” She sent him a massive folder that was going to take a bit to install, in the meantime. They both flew upwards, trying to spot things from higher up.
“No worries, what are we looking for?” He asked, just replaying the same songs he'd already listened to on repeat, just at a lower volume.
“A hardware store preferably, that explosion melted all my railguns internals… stupid J… pain in my ass even in death.” She added, sounding bitter. He didn't argue.
“Hmm, I think I saw one last night. I can send you the map data?” He offered, not noticing how closely they were flying, he could feel each beat of her wings. The urge to wrap his tail around her hit him suddenly. She wasn't in danger. What was this about?
“Sweet! Yes!” She gave him a thumbs up, and so he sent the map data to her, and she went silent looking it over intently.
And here he was admiring how she could intently focus of his map data while also flying near perfectly again, if he ever needed to revist a location he had to stop flying lest he hit something. Not her though, her mind was so lightening fast. Not just in this, but in everything.
Man his best freind was so cool. And pretty.
She… was pretty. But that was random.
“Yeah, you did pass one, this way!” She did pause in the air for a moment, but only to turn to him and make sure he was following, he nodded, letting her lead him.
Her tail swirled behind her as she kept herself aloft, it was graceful in it's own way, since she had to think more about consciously flying then he did, and so she ended up doing more spins and tricks in the air just by flying normally. It was almost like watching a dance, albeit a bat-like one.
“We're here.” He heard her shout before diving, and he followed without question, landing beside her with a metallic thud in contrast with her graceful perfect landing.
Okay, what the heck was going on with him today?
“Anything specific?” He asked, dusting the snow off himself before it melted and refroze to his chassis. Ignoring the random intrusive thoughts that seemed to be increasing in frequency and intensity.
“Small screws, wiring, oh! And capacitors! Lots and lots of capacitors.” He knew at least what two of those things were at what they looked like, so he nodded and followed her into the blasted out store after beating the snow out of his cap.
Her tail whipped around into a flashlight, pointing it at the rotten shelves and the icesicles hanging above them, a skeleton was at the counter, still in uniform, and still in the position of looking bored.
“Split up? I'll look for the capacitors, you get the screws and wiring?” She turned to him, with the absence of others she always seemed to smile, he gave her a thumbs up and beamed her one right back, before turning and wandering to the nearest shelf, leaving them both alone with their thoughts.
Uzi was already searching deep in the electronic section, trying to find capacitors that weren't completely broken or frozen, with a task at hand her mind was blessedly empty for once, enough that she was humming absent-mindedly whatever song had gotten trapped in her head.
She didn't sing, she didn't like her voice and thought it was too deep for most songs, but humming was fine, if it wasn't done in front of other people. Robo-God forbid someone hear her not being aggro for ten seconds. But here she was alone, and N was on the other side of the store, he couldn't hear her.
And even if he could, it was N. He wouldn't ever make fun of her for anything.
She smiled. At this point trying to deny her feelings was pointless, he made her feel so special, so wonderful. And he was so happy to spend any time with her, whether it be listening to her music or watching a movie or agreeing to visit a baby with her. He was always down, loving every second.
It rubbed off on her, she found herself smiling more, liking her life more, liking herself more. She was beginning to feel less like a freak and more like a person, all thanks to the lovable goofball she called her best freind.
And she wanted to call him more, connect with him more, but… she couldn't be certain he felt the same way. He was always so loving but he was like that with everyone, he cared, and that's just who he was.
So nothing he did proved he liked her like that. Romanticly. Never in a million years did she ever think she would be longing for someone, or even have a crush in the first place, but here she was, admitting to herself that… she was in love. Ew
But at the same time, the way he had been looking at her in the nursery, with a small smile on his face and his eyes digitally half-lidded. He looked… almost like he wanted to kiss her.
But that had to have been her imagination, he'd asked if she felt better right before, maybe he'd just been concerned.
With a victorious gasp she found a whole box of preserved capacitors and quickly stashed them in her bag before going off and trying to find the boy in question, core full of butterflies but also very very heavy.
N had finally finished downloading Uzi's monster of a playlist and was skimming through it while picking up his second box of screws, he doubted she needed this many, but being an overachiever never got him in trouble before.
He fingered the wiring he had in his pocket, feeling satisfied that he'd completed his task and yet still felt anything but.
He was… confused.
Uzi was his friend, his best friend. And yet the more he thought about her the lighter his core got, in a way that was new to him. Well no, that was it wasn't it? It wasn't new.
It was just attached to a new person.
But… he didn't have a crush on Uzi did he? He could form sentences just fine around her, he wasn't nervous or artificially sweaty. He just wanted to be close, to protect her. To be there when she needed him. That wasn't romantic. It was protective! Like all friends should be!
And yet he still felt unsatisfied, like he was missing something.
“Hey! Did you find what we needed?” He heard her before he saw her, bounding up to him with a crooked smirk, her tail twitching behind her and her wings folded against her back. She was cute…
He shook off his thoughts again.
“Yeah! Here!” He he presented the screws and the wire to her with a smile, his tail twitching as her hand grazed his as she took them, no that wasn't a spark you're imagining things.
“Thanks!” You ready to head back? It's going to be morning soon.” She asked, punching his shoulder playfully, a small laugh left his mouth.
“Yeah! And we can listen to music together on the way back!”
“Sure buddy.”
And with that they took off, commenting on songs and cracking jokes about the stupid ones, flying high to get home faster. With each minute he felt himself relax, whatever confusing mess his thoughts were causing right now didn't matter, they were laughing, and she was smiling. He would figure it out later.
“Is… is this song about a potato?” He asked slowly, causing her to snort before devolving into a fit of laughter.
“Y-yeah? I thought it was funny, and I rigged the teachers lounge to play it on repeat once.”
N didn't want to ask why, but he felt that it was a very Uzi thing to do.
“Hey, I might need to crash at your place tonight. Charge is low and I don't wanna pass out on the way home.” As she said that, a little low battery symbol appeared at the top right corner of her visor, showing she wasn't lying.
“Sleepover!” He shouted, making her smile again, he really liked her smile…
“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes, but her words lacked any sort of bite. There was a brief comfortable silence before;
“Oh… this one's kinda sad.” His face fell at little as he listened. An orchestral swell being out of place in the rest of the playlist.
I am tired of this dream….
Will it ever end for me?
“Sorry, I don't have a lot of happy ones that aren't also sarcastic…” She admitted sheepishly, she probably should find happier songs now that she was thinking about it. She felt happier now, what was the harm? So long that it was only her and N that would ever hear them.
I don't have the will to know…
Can you help me see?
“Oh! Duet!” He hummed happily, that fact alone seemingly making him feel better about it.
Let my body keep you warm…
Let my essence be your breeze.
Oh. This was a love song, and a rather longing one. He looked over Uzi's playlist, this one was added only recently. About three months ago, huh that was around when prom happened.
Can you hear me calling?
Please look out for meeee…
“N! Look!” Uzi shouted and he looked up, the gas giant was being eclipsed by Copper-9s barren moon, causing the entire night sky to be lit up in a burnt umber red. But he'd be lying if he said that was what caught his attention.
Can you set me free?
Will you take my soul away?
Uzi was silhouetted in the light perfectly, sending warm oranges and reds bouncing off her features like she was gazing at a roaring fire, she was hung in the air, snowflakes falling slowly around her, the light turning them to embers dancing in the air. She was smiling, her hands reaching out to touch one of the dancing flames.
Casting me in cold
Bury me in bones
Rest eternallyyyyyy…
He felt all the moisture in his mouth evaporate on the spot, and any further thought through his processors die. If flying wasn't an automatic process, he would have fallen from the sky in shock.
She looked beautiful.
Will you take me home?
Can we see the moon again?
Dancing in the dark
Till we fall apart
I can't end this dream...
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