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#tried to make this as polite a reminders as possible
ethereal--muse · 1 day
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𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝
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𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭...𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘶𝘦...
𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: tony stark x daughter!reader (platonic) ; steve rogers x reader; brock rumlow x reader; dark-ish!rafe cameron x reader; ward cameron x brock rumlow (platonic); bucky barnes x reader (platonic; maybe romantic later)
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: noncon; sexual violence, physical violence; mental abuse; verbal abuse; age gap (reader is turning 20 in future chapters while Rumlow is in his early-fifties); pre-civil war; blood; violence; choking; talks of murder; politics i know nothing about lol. 𝗜𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘂𝗽𝘀𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗗𝗡𝗜
𝐚/𝐧: reblogs, comments and asks are always welcomed. 𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴. pls send me more requests <3
✶𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭✶
𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @willowpains @rovckwells
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You didn't quite remember your wedding day...or, as you called it, the day of your death. You couldn't believe your own father made you do this, selling you to the monster you've always avoided. You felt like a little sheep being fed to a wolf.
You were drunk that day, drunk on your own tears. You were young after all, too young for this cruel life and world. Every wish, every dream and every hope of yours was crushed that day, turning you into a plain, alive soul, forced basically to live.
Brock Rumlow grew incredibly much the past years, becoming the principal leader of New York, Florida and a wide part of Washinton. His dark aura had always terrified you as a child, usually when he came into your home and discussed business with your dad. You never understood why your dad, such a good man in your perspective, would make deals with him. This thought haunted you as you grew up.
But being thrown directly in his arms as soon as you were old enough was pure torture, unimaginable for you.
You still remembered the night before your wedding, as you begged your father, Tony Stark, on your knees not to make you do this. But, obviously, your pleas and cries were ignored, his "career" and "business life" were more important for him that his own fucking daughter.
Somehow, you still managed to love your father, because, after all, he was the only family you had. But, deep down in your achy soul, you were numb towards him for what he did to you.
Of course, men did not care. They never cared. But you did. And it wasn't fair, it was your life. They had no right to take it away from you.
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You watched the fat drops of the rain running on the huge glass of the bedroom. It was quiet in the massive mansion, your husband was not home, thankfully. Your thoughts wandered, as always. You couldn't sleep, you missed your dad, you wanted to be home, not in this dark hellhole.
Your spirit was broken. The first days you tried to fight Brock back, you tried to resist. The dark bruises on your face reminded you of how fucking stupid you were. You had also tried to talk back, ignore him. The memories of your swollen lips, your cutted stomach, bruised hips and sore core were tattooed on your brain, reminding you every single second of who actually owned you and what was your life like now.
Distant barks of the dogs pierced through the massive wooden door and you flinched. Your heart skipped a beat. "no, no..." you whispered. He was supposed to be gone till next weekend.
You looked around and grabbed a sweathshirt, pulling it over the thin white dress quickly, and praying you'll get to the balcony before he enters.
You opened the gigantic door as quietly as possible, and you heard him. His voice deep, the twisted tone and everything made you fill up with horror. He was shouting at his men. The black dogs were between his legs, wiggling their tails, happy to see him.
You shot your glance down, and you felt his burning gaze on you. Now you had to go next to him, for your own sake.
You weren't stable on your own legs, feeling your knees buckle as you approached him as fast as you could.
Rumlow took a big step towards you and wrapped his arm around you. It was heavy and rough, not even trying to seem loving. This was his nature after all: twisted; monstrous; depraved...You winced when his fingers pressed in your waist and the bruises there.
"How about a pretty smile for me, sweetheart?" he muttered in your hair. You looked down, trying not to run from him and from this entire damned life.
He wasn't pleased with your disobedience, but fear paralysed you. You just couldn't think.
He barked an order again and another of his men brought him a glass of thick alcohol. You only looked down, praying that he has another things to do.
You tried to pull away from his grip, but he strenghtened it. You hissed as he started dragging you to his office. It was bad, you knew it.
Some of the men opened the door and the scent of cigarettes, alcohol and cologne burnt your throat. The tremendous room was dark, only the lights of New York coming through the window, butvthe lights were turned on quickly.
Rumlow stepped in before you and you followed him, just as the pretty little quiet pet you were.
You went past him and sat down on the enormous leather couch, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You started fidgeting with the sleeves of the sweathirt as you looked down.
"We're havin' a big night...my partners are coming to discuss business..." he started, and you looked up at him. "Behave..."
Your fear was replaced with annoyance. Of course, after all, you were young and you somehow...forgot your state.
You get up and try to leave. "Did I tell you to leave?"
This time, you rolled your eyes. "You don't have to-"
All of a sudden, your jaw was gripped in a steel grip, and you were pushed in the wall behind.
Your heart started beating faster and tears pooled your eyes. "Don't fucking cross me, baby. I thought you learned that already."
"I-I'm so-orr-" you whispered as good as you could through his grip. Your heart was beating fast, questionably fast, as you cursed your actions.
"Shut the fuck up!" he shouted and you flinched hard. "Learn your place. I could fucking kill you, remember that." he finished, releasing your jaw.
"D-do it! Please..." you cried through sobs.
He chuckled to himself mockingly. You were terrified, angry and tired. "You really are a stupid little girl, aren't you, swetheart?"
When he turned back to you, you flinched and tried to back off as fast as you could. He grabbed the hair from the back of your head and you winced. "I said I could kill you, not that I would. I paid millions of dollars for you. Fucking millions!" he roared. "I forgave your daddy of his huge fucking debt, only for you."
You flinched and choked sobs, hating to hear the curses in his mouth.
"Don't worry, baby, I won't kill you...I need you alive. I got rid of every whore and club just for you, my ungrateful little slut." Your gut twisted with disgust as you tried to avoid his eyes.
Rumlow sighed and tightened his grip on your hair, pulling your head back, to look at your face. You felt infant, caged. "If you misbehave, I'll slit your daddy's throat, understood?" he asked. You felt sick and quickly nodded, as his grip allowed. "and, I'll keep you in a fucking basement as my personal slut and you won't see the light of the day again, trust me."
You sobbed, tears running freely now. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to die, to disappear.
He let go of your hair and grabbed your jaw instead. He roughly ran his thumb over your wet cheeks and over your lips and you flinched. "Go and put on something prettier, baby...and come downstairs, understood?"
You shakily nodded. "Use your words, baby..." he said as he let go of your face completely. "..y-yes" you whispered, looking down.
As you were getting out of the office, you heard the words that pierced through your soul.
"Oh, and...don't cover the marks...those motherfuckers need to learn not to cross me."
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redwinterroses · 2 years
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Bringin' this back with the discussion of Tango on tumblr and cc boundaries in general:
Please be aware that Tango is very much not a fan of being depicted with demonic features in general, and specifically he dislikes being shown with horns.
In this clip he expresses that being drawn with horns "bothers me a little bit, I'm not gonna lie" and in this one he semi-jokingly says "no it doesn't bother me" while nodding and mouthing that it does. (For those that might have problems processing body language and unspokens, it's pretty obvious that he's trying not to make a big deal about it, but that he's not a fan of the idea.)
Respecting a creator's wishes is good fandom etiquette, especially when it's something as non-impactful as requesting to be portrayed in fanworks with or without a certain feature. Especially if there's a chance that he might actually be lurking, please keep this in mind.
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atalana · 2 months
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having one of those nights where i'm just. extremely frustrated about fatphobia's existence and the fact that whatever i do to try and change it will be a drop in the ocean and there'll always be people who think i'm just saying this because i'm lazy
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 19 days
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just for tonight
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a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).
summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4907
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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”
“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 
“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”
Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 
But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 
It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 
Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 
You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.
“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 
“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 
“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 
A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”
The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 
You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”
“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 
A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 
The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 
Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 
When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 
Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 
But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.
“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 
And so, he didn’t.
Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 
Barely an hour passed before you woke. 
Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 
Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 
“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 
“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”
As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”
Your eyes then widened, “I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 
Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 
“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 
“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 
A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 
Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 
Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”
He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.
When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 
As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.
And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 
But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 
“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”
“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”
“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”
A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”
“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”
“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 
Can’t or won’t?
Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 
It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 
As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  
Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 
With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 
“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 
“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 
But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”
“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 
“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 
“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 
“To what, huh?” 
“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 
“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.
“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 
“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 
“I want you to fuck me, please!” 
With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.
Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 
Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.
Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 
You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 
Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 
Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 
The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 
When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 
Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 
A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 
“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 
“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.
“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 
Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.
Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 
“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.
Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 
When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 
Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 
With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 
The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 
Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 
“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”
Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 
Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 
When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 
“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 
Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 
“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 
“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  
“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 
“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 
“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 
“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 
“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 
Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.
“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 
“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.
“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 
“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”
“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 
His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 
Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 
Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 
Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.
“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”
One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 
“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”
“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 
A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 
He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 
“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”
With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 
Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 
The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.
“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 
“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.
Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 
The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 
“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”
“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 
“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 
And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.
His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 
You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.
After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 
“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.
“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 
“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 
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ohbother2 · 3 months
Note
Okay….Adam sfw and nsfw headcanons? I cannot believe I have begun to simp after this trashbag DAMN YOU ALEX BRIGHTMAN-
I have an admission... I fucking love Adam pls keep sending Adam requests in I can't get enough of this man
Also, sorry I've been MIA, I've got a lot of deadlines coming up so updates will be more spaced out over the next few weeks :)
I love Adam but he's quite difficult to write, so pls lmk what you guys think! I tried to keep him in character! (This was far longer than planned lol I just love this man)
NSFW - Minors DNI
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Adam x f!reader - General Headcannons
SFW
You'd been in heaven for many decades, possibly even centuries, before you had ever even entered Adam's radar
He was the 'original dick', as he liked to constantly remind everyone within shouting distance, and spent all of his time surrounded by the higher-ups of Heaven, attending meetings, court-hearings, and dealing with training his danger-tits army for the next extermination
It would take a lot to enter his radar, having to work your way into the correct circles, gain the right connections and attend the right events
But once you're in the circumference of society he haunts, you're on his radar immediately
He's a man with fine tastes, look at his previous wives, he has a type ("fucking bombshells" as he would describe them) and as soon as he sees you in his peripheral one afternoon he's zoned in and absolutely entranced
No one has ever said no to him before, so when you do, he's taken aback. Hiding his confusion and deep-rooted offence with a flippant comment "Oh, playing the hard to get game, babe? Lucky for you I fucking love the chase."
Inwardly, he's fucking fuming, why on earth would you reject him? Alas, he's sure he'll win you over eventually... right?
He's arrogant, he's cocky, he's a self-entitled piece of shit, but he's also determined, passionate, and is anything but a quitter
You will not know peace for months after your reject him
He'll storm into your office whenever he feels like it - which is whenever he has enough free time to do so - bugging you relentlessly as you try and finish your work. He never stops asking questions about you: your day, your hobbies, your love life, what're you doing after work tonight? He's free, he could take you somewhere nice, show you a real fun time
When you stop answering he starts bitching about his day to you, about the local gossip, about some Seraphim that pissed him off, about some bitch at the bar, which he could totally take you to, did he mention he was free tonight?
He doesn't just hound you at work, and you often find yourself coming to a screeching halt in the street and abruptly turning the other way when you spot his iconic mask - he's a tall man, his horns poking noticeably above the crowd as he tries to find any excuse to find and talk to you
When he gets really desperate, after months and months of unsuccessful attempts of gaining your attention, he finally turns to Lute with the all too familiar question "You're a woman, right? What do you-"
The advice she gives is not one he is happy to receive, 'stay away and tone it the fuck down', but he listens, ego taking a massive hit as he watches you carry on as normal
Funnily enough, you start to miss the annoying dick, and you begin to look forward to his far less frequent visits, which mainly consist of you both bumping into each other at work and making polite conversation
When he really can't take it anymore, and he happens to hear rumour about another man planning on asking you on a date, he practically breaks down your office door with a bouquet of flowers, thrusting them unhappily into your hands and asking incredibly politely for you to please go on a date with him
You're both surprised when you agree, and he can feel his face heating up beneath his mask as he whoops, calling a "I knew you'd come around babe, I'll pick you up at 8 tonight. Can't wait to see what you wear." over his shoulder as he bustles back out of your office, practically vibrating until he can tell Lute the news
He's 'The Original Man', and once you become his girl there is nothing he wouldn't do for you - he's constantly swinging by your office and pulling away the less important paperwork, commenting that he can get one of his workers to do it and freeing up time for you both to hang out; he's constantly flying through your balcony with bags of some new takeaway and chatting about this amazing new food place he found as he drops the heavy bags on your counter; someone causing you trouble? If he can't personally deal with it due to some 'relationship' he has to upkeep, he's sure to inform Lute who will have the situation handled before sunset that same day
Basically, he has authority in Heaven, and he's going to use that to make your life as easy as possible
Having a bad day? He can fix that. Oh, not in the mood for sex? Well, he's an amazing cuddle buddy, and he has the softest wings, let him just grab some snacks from the kitchen and then get ready for a night on the sofa wrapped in his strong arms and soft wings
His wings are insanely soft, and big, and despite his best efforts, no matter how long you've both been dating, they will flutter if he hasn't seen you in an extended amount of time, or if you're wearing something particular nice - he can't control it and it thoroughly ruins his bad-boy persona
You're the only other person beside Lute who he feels comfortable with letting preen his wings, and after you start officially dating he only comes to you with the issue, batting his eyelashes and pleading with you to 'take care of him'. You do, and he always breaks his promise not to 'make it weird' until you give him a firm smack on the back of his head - he's fallen asleep more times than you can count with your hands in his wings
He returns the favour, of course, and he sticks to his word like a gentleman, hands remaining firmly against your wings and not daring to wander. He's not a saint, however, and he will whisper less-than-holy things in your ear as he works - he'll stop if you don't play along, and finds himself enjoying the innocent intimacy of it. If you do play along? Oh, boy, his hands don't stay on your wings for long
He uses his wings a lot in his body language, and in your initial stages of courting he'll constantly puff them out to make him seem bigger, trying to impress you with his sheer size - embarrassingly for you, it works
PDA is not approved of in heaven, so he has to maintain his distance from you in public but that is a completely different matter in private
He will take every opportunity to touch you, innocently, whether that be a had on your jaw to bring your attention back to him or to guide your gaze wherever he wants you to look, a hand on your bicep to pull you this way and that, a large hand between your shoulder blades if you're being too slow
In public, completely subconsciously, whichever wing is closest to you will outstretch, barely noticeable to the majority of people, corralling you in closer to his side, and protecting you from whatever might happen - there's no danger in heaven, but still, he likes to know you're safe, and his wings reflect that desire
In private, he's constantly got a hand on you, oftentimes both, on your arms, your shoulders, your waist, the small of your back, your thighs, fucking anywhere - he likes having you on his chest on the sofa, and he finds it funny when he tries to do the same and crushes the air from your lungs
He loves when you cook and he can just stand behind you with his chin propped on your head or shoulder and his arms around your waist. You constantly have to tell him off for whispering foul things in your ear, but he quickly shuts up when you threaten to send him away, his grip tightening against you as he pouts playfully and watches silently
He will actively stretch out his wing when it's cold or windy or rainy, shielding you from the elements with his large wings and loving the excuse to pull you close. "What're they gonna say babe? I'm just keeping you dry."
The biggest difficulty in your domestic lives is the housework, he's an old fashioned man and he's never really had to do housework before. He's gotten better throughout your relationship, but he still absolutely hates washing dishes, but he'll happily sit in the kitchen and keep you company and talk mindlessly as he watches you work. He always thanks you with a kiss
If you ever make him do it, expect to be sat on the counter right next to him and no you cannot leave until he's done and yes you will listen to him complain the entire time and yes he will always slap your ass with a wet hand as payback, cackling as you yell half-heartedly
Deep down, incredibly deep, oceanic levels of deep, past the many many levels of crude jokes and brash humour, of over-compensating confidence and attempted witty one-liners, past the smirk and the puffed chest and the domineering presence, is a man who is cripplingly doubtful and insecure - two of his wives have left him for the same man, and he's absolutely terrified (but would rather burn in the fiery pits of hell than ever admit it) that it's going to happen again
He can seem rude and brash and uncaring, but he really is trying his best, and he's desperate to prove to you, in his own way, how much he really cares (He's scared to admit even to himself how much losing you would crush him)
Because of this, no event is ever half-assed - it's your birthday? He's got the biggest cake he can find and he's made some of his exterminators set up a surprise birthday party for you. It's your anniversary? He's pretending he's forgotten until the morning of and suddenly you've got a reservation at one of the nicest and most in-demand places in all of Heaven
"Come on, sugar," He'd reprimand you mockingly, shit-eating grin on his face at your excitement "you really thought I'd forget my special girl?"
He can doubt himself sometimes, worrying about your feelings for him, but he hides his insecurities whenever you catch him in deep-thought with some lame sex-joke
He doesn't ever want to talk about his insecurities, and he'll never outright tell you what he fears more than anything, but you pick up on it after enough time together
You don't pry, but you do card your hands through his hair when you see his eyes go particularly glossy one afternoon, pressing a kiss to his temple and scratching at his scalp, making your way slowly to his wings and back and taking your sweet time. He closes his eyes and listens to you ramble about your day, which eventually turns into you rambling about him, how handsome he is, how hard he works, and how much you love him and how you don't know what you'd do without him
He doesn't realise it, but you say just the rights things he needs for him to regain that pep in his step and for his cocky words to have more meaning behind them
NSFW
He's the Original Dick, and you'd hope he had the goods to back up the talk with the amount of bragging he does
He does; he does have the goods, and some would say he's being humble because what the fuck
He's the oldest human in history - he's seen it all, done it all twice, and he's more than willing to share some of his tricks with you
He's too proud and self-centred to ever let you have complete control, but when he's particularly lazy he'll let you go on top (as rare as this occasion is) but he'll still guide you as best as he can, lifting you easily with his strong arms and sweet-talking you with his sharp tongue
The first time you ever see him without his god-awful mask is during an intimate moment - you're first intimate moment, where you downright refused to continue if he didn't take the cursed thing off his face
Again, he's insecure, and it takes a lot of reassurance and just the right amount of kisses on his jaw and neck for him to be convinced that taking his mask off was worth it
He lets you look at him for several moments, and then he's had enough and he took his mask off for a fucking reason and he's pulling you into his lap and kissing you properly for the fist time
You can compliment him later, he has other things on his mind right now, the main one being fucking you until you can't even conjure a coherent thought
After that encounter he slowly takes his mask off in private with you more and more, learning to appreciate how nice it was to be able to kiss your temple and actually feel you against his lips, as well as how nice it was to feel your lips against his cheek
Still keeps the mask on sometimes, especially when you ask so nicely
He absolutely loves receiving head, resting back in his office chair or against the back of the sofa and letting you get to work, grunts and groans falling from his lips as his hands grip your hair tightly and guide you exactly how he wants you
He will give head as well, he's not selfish by any means, but he much prefers kissing you as you fall apart beneath him - for him, he'd much rather swallow your screams and mutter dirty things in your ear as he brings you to release
Be careful with his wings, especially when he lets you preen them - gentle touches can easily be misinterpreted as passionate caresses and before you know it you're pinned on your back with a red-faced and disheveled looking Adam hovering above you, muttering about how you're a "fucking tease" and if "you wanted it so bad all you had to do was ask, sugar. I'll never leave you wanting."
He knows the power of wings, and his heavy touches against your own when he needs to "Just sliding past babe, what's that fucking look for? Can't a man work?" are no accident. He loves getting you all wound up. He takes it as a personal challenge to do it in public, and his shit-eating grin remains the entire day before he's pressing you against the door of his office or your plush bed and muttering about how fucking needy you are.
He doesn't take being teased well, and he'll glare at you the entire time until he can do something about it - he'll have even less patience than usual, especially for people who aren't you, and often has to do damage-control after he's regained his bearings a few hours later
He's a big man, and he uses that to his full advantage, man-handling you with ease, positioning you exactly where he wants you, pinning both of your wrists easily with only one of his large hands, pushing your legs apart like butter
He can lift you easily, and he'll hold you against the wall, or countertop, or wherever the fuck you guys are, and he'll keep you there until he's done
Lute has walked in on you both far too many times, and she always hurtles back out of the door cursing at you both angrily
He likes pinning you beneath him, spreading his wings over your forms and completely shrouding you with his form - you're fucking his, and no one else will take that from him
He fucking loves dirty talk, and it's a challenge to get him to shut up - he'll carry on talking at you long after you're able to respond, and he'll just start talking about that instead: "Aw, look at you, can't even fucking say my name you're so fucking dumb for this c-"
As said before, he's insecure based on the way he lost his two previous wives and the reflects into the bedroom
If you do degrade him, he'll just challenge you, telling you you've obviously not learnt your fucking lesson and picking up the pace, desperate to prove he's the exact opposite of whatever had just spilled from your mouth - you'll pay for trying to goad him on, he won't relent until you're a babbling shaking mess, stuttering out apologies and taking back everything you had just dared to say to him
Any praise you offer him he absolutely laps up. Call him handsome, tell him your his, tell him there's no one else in the world who would ever compared to him, how good he's fucking you - he'll get so wrapped up in the praise he'll even stop talking, completely focussed on his task of making you feel good, making sure you know there's no one else who could give you what he does
Dig your hands into his wings and he becomes a groaning mess, and it'll only be a few seconds of you muttering those sweet praises in his ears and your nails digging into his wings before he's collapsing on top of you and panting raggedly, still trying to mutter out curses and praises through his gruff gasping
When he really loses control his wings will flap of their own accord, and you've had to completely clear your side tables because he kept accidentally smashing everything that was on them
He likes to rest afterwards, and he usually tries to encourage you into going another round.
He'll tug you into his sweaty side, pulling you half onto his chest as he breathes deeply, immediately asking if you enjoyed it, and when you agree, he'll always mutter something along the lines of "Of course you fucking did, it's me."
3K notes · View notes
myfictionaldreams · 3 months
Text
Subspace // Batboys x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel introduces Rhysand and Cassian to Subspace, with your help, of course.
A/N: Please make sure to read the tags before reading. Specifically for the breathplay aspect, as it's nearly to the point of passing out. This is also a reminder that this is a work of fiction and not a way to teach fetishes; if I have described anything wrong, then I apologise; this is just my interpretation of a specific scenario. It is not real. Please stay safe out there if trying different kinks, only practice with those you trust!
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, Polyamory, Mates, creampie, size kink, dom/sub undertones, rough sex/oral, restraints, praise kink, masturbation, subspace (!), discussion of safe words, multiple orgasms (!), crying, overstimulation, fingering, breathplay (!!), nearly passing out, cum eating, past emotional abuse (ex), aftercare
Words:6.4 k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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Unsure as to who was louder with their orgasmic cries, you or Cassian, as he pumps you full with his seed, the pulse of his cock matching the time of your fluttering cunt. Not only was Cassian’s cum coating your inners, mixing with your slick, but also that of his High Lord, who had thoroughly filled you moments before. A steady creamy puddle had been dripping out of your delicate hole and was saturating the satin bedsheets beneath.
It was a beautiful sight to Cassian as he tried to catch his breath, staring down at where you were both still connected as his firm hands clenched around your thighs where he was currently pressing your legs so far back that your knees and ears almost touched.
You always mused that you thought he looked like a God when he looked like this. Yes, others who had witnessed your mate on the battlefield, in charge of his High Lord's armies and defeating the enemies, was a sight to behold and often had people whispering for the Mother.
You agreed with this astonishment, but when seeing him like this, naked, muscles flexing from the exertion, a sweaty sheen over his body that caused his hair to stick to his face and the pure dominance that radiated from his energy. Cassian was beautiful, as was each of your mates, but with his cock currently still stretching you full, there was no one else on your mind but him.
Cassian’s full mouth twisted into an all-knowing, arrogant smirk as he gazed down at your lust-filled eyes ravishing his body.
“I’m surprised you’re still conscious after that; you must really be in a mood”, he jests with an eyebrow raised, the scar running through it moving with the movement. You’d have laughed and agreed with him if you had the energy. These ‘moods’ that he referred to was the polite way your mates described you being unfathomably horny.
Of course, you wanted your mates every second that there was air in your lungs, but sometimes it would become so overwhelming your skin felt too tight, heart palpations, tremble in your fingers that would settle until one of their bodies was touching yours. Rhysand reassured that it was expected to feel this way whilst newly mated, and you had not one but three mates - possibly a joke played to you by the Cauldron - so it was rational for your body's reactions to be heightened.
That didn’t make it any easier as you fucked each of them to multiple orgasms and only felt sated after reaching a new unconscious state. You were close too, but not close enough as you continued to admire Cassian, from how his beautiful wings stretched out behind him to how his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, moistening them for a moment before he dipped lower.
The kiss was heated and messy, saliva and sweat mixing on your tongues as they stroked together. A flicker of joy warmed in the centre of your chest as you could finally run your fingers through his damp hair, tucking the strands behind his rounded ears so you could see his face without the shadows.
Each of your legs was carefully lowered on either side of his body so that his chest pressed against yours. His powerful arms now rested beside your head so that he could stroke the back of his knuckles against your cheeks.
The affection and love he was projecting were the opposite reactions to moments ago when he was pounding into you like it was his latest mission. After Rhysand had teased and pinned you to the bedpost, making you orgasm until your knees trembled and he had to carry you to the bed where he finally came inside of you, Cassian had chuckled that he wasn’t sure you could handle him with the fucked out expression on your face.
You smirked and instructed him to fuck as hard as possible. Cassian never backed down from a challenge and did just this, leaving you exhausted and dreamy.
“Cauldron, I fucking love you”, Cassian pants into your mouth, the warmth of his breath tickling your neck as he kisses his way to the sensitive area below your ear.
“I love you too, " you sigh in contentment, fingers lowering over his powerful shoulders, causing him to shiver as you neared his sensitive wings.
As his lips hovered over the shell of your pointed ear, he whispered, “Do you really think you can handle my brother's cock?”
You can’t help the giggle that bursts from you, wishing you could stroke Cassian’s ego and say you were too tired for the last of your mates, but that would be a complete and utter lie.
“Oh, I know she can, can’t you, my love?” Azriel's deep voice comes from behind Cassian, who observes you closely. The male hovering over you turned to look at his friend over his shoulder, but Azriel continued to glance at you as his wing twitched, indicating Cass to move.
With one last kiss to your cheek, the warmth and weight of Cassian crawled from your body, meaning the setting sun was now directly beaming into your eyes, causing you to try to bury your face into the pillow beneath your head. “What can I say? I’m greedy for you all”, you insisted with a sigh, smiling to yourself but attempting to keep your voice quiet after seeing the windowless arches to the sun.
You were pretty sure all of Veleris had heard you being fucked by your mates, and every time you remembered that there were no windows in your home and only the sheer curtains flowing in the breeze, you attempted to keep the noise down. This only meant that your mates’ attempts to make you cry out in euphoria improved tenfold.
“Insatiable you are indeed”, growled the voice of the male who had been quietly watching the three of you interact. Rhysand’s usually perfectly combed hair was thoroughly ruffled from and sticking to his temple from where you’d been running your fingers through it earlier in the afternoon. Your eyes connected with his; the usual brightness that gleamed with the violet colour seemed clouded to a near-pitch-black colour of pure night as he admired his mate being thoroughly worshipped on the bed.
You were thankful the three of them were so close, Brothers in a way that close childhood friends were. Their possessive tendencies were always there, growling or baring their teeth at one another when they’d decided it was enough touching. However, most of the time, they were patient, more content with the fact that you were feeling happy and thoroughly pleasured. On the occasions where all three of them touched you simultaneously, it was more fun than you could handle most days due to the manhandling and dominance, but that’s always what made it more fun.
Today was not one of those days, though, as you admired your handsome High Lord as he stroked his thick cock slowly, those dark eyes searching over your body and resting on the puddle that was growing beneath your cunt.
Smiling over at him, Rhysand’s lips twitched into a soft gaze, the speed of his hand increasing as the joy on your face increased his arousal. For a moment, you contemplated trying to crawl over to him, kneel on the floor and offer to keep his cock warm with your mouth, but the growing shadow forming at the end of the excessively large bed captured your focus entirely. 
You’d thought for a moment that Azriel’s shadows had been the object to block out the sun from blinding your vision, but a quick glance showed you that it was his wing, which meant a deep red hue now covered your body from the sun beaming through the membrane of his wing.
An ice-cold breeze circled your ankles, dragging your attention away from Azriel as his shadows formed into pairs of hands, trapping your legs in their spread position. Licking your lips in anticipation, you attempted to sit up and reach for Az, but the shadows grew in size, skimming over your sides and adding pressure to your shoulders until you were lying back down. The pressure remained over your shoulders, and further hands firmly gripped around your wrists so that they were pinned to your side. There was no getting out of the hold you were now captured within, and as your pulse began to pound within your chest, a delicate caress against your cheek fluttered by as the shadows tried to calm away your anxieties.
Azriel watched you closely, from the way your breathing rate increased as anticipation and adrenaline began to pound through your veins to the way more thick white cum dripped out of your cunt with the movements.
The Shadowsinger’s head tilted to the left as he asked, “Do you remember what we discussed earlier?” Azriel could have been perceived as the opposite if Cassian had looked like a God earlier. The setting sun beamed around his body, causing a light aura over his outline, but the front of his body darkened into a shadow so that you couldn’t see his handsome face. Power rolled off of him in waves as he waited for your answer.
Your mouth became suddenly dry, making it difficult to form words, so you simply nodded yes in response.
“Wait, what did you talk about earlier?” Cassian asks as he heaves his bulky body into the spare seat on the opposite side of Rhysand. Your eyes flicked to him for a second, noting the fact that his cock was still very much hard and now glistening in your juices. Cassian spread his legs and took the object of your desire in hand, beginning to stroke slowly, his balls tightening due to the action.
You didn’t answer, not wanting to discuss what had been talked about earlier. Azriel took a step closer to the bed, not taking his eyes off you for a second, as he casually remarked, “You’ll see. "
“You know, it’s not nice to keep secrets from your High Lord, " Rhys says quietly, his eyes flicking to Azriel with the underlying command that laced his words.
“All you need to know is that we have trust between the four of us. I know what I’m doing, and our sweet mate knows what’s doing and has trust. Isn’t that right, Love?”
“Yes, I trust you. All of you, " you say confidently, gripping the sheets beneath you until your knuckles strain.
Azriel nods, moving closer to the bed's end as his shadows pin your body down. “And what else do you need to tell me?” Azriel asks.
“If I want you to stop, I shake my head, say red, or tap twice” As you explained, you made the motion, tapping against the bed and shaking your head no.
“Good girl”, Az praises, his deep tone causing sparks of arousal to heat in your pussy as you attempted to rub your thighs together to ease some of the tension, but the shadows kept your legs separated.
Cassian’s fist stopped moving as he looked between you and Azriel and asked, “Are you sure I don’t need to be worried if we’re talking about safe worlds?” 
“It’s fine”, you answer in place of Az. “I wanted to try this and didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, which you two are making with the silent conversation I know you’re having, so please, just have some trust that this is something that I want, and it’s safe”. Cassian at least had the decency to look embarrassed, having been caught talking to Rhysand mind-to-mind. However, the High Lord just continued to glance between his Shadowsinger and you with uncertainty. 
A flick of coolness strokes down your sternum, and a shadow spirals over your skin. Azriel continues to use the darkness to praise you with subtle touches.
Cass leans further back into the chair until it groans under the strain of his powerful body. “Fine, fine. I’ll shut my big mouth”, he explains with a grin, his fingers tightening around his cock once more.
You were too busy admiring the drip of precum that had formed at the tip of Cass’ cock that you’d not noticed that Azriel was finally on the bed until his ice-cold scarred fingers trailed up the sensitive area of your inner thigh.
“I’ve been counting, you know”, Azriel casually mentions under his breath.
“Counting?” you ask, confused about what he was referring to.
Azriel settles between your knees; with him having moved closer, you could see him in all of his glory, the smooth, perfectly formed muscles over his body, the black swirls of both ink and shadows that ran over his skin and those captivating hazel eyes that seemed even darker than Rhys’.
“How many times you’ve came. I’ve been counting. Even the little one, you didn’t verbalise as Rhys took you from behind. Now, usually, at this point, you’ve had so many. I know you’re only one or two away from passing out, but that’s not our plan for today, is it?”
Even though your cheeks flood with warmth at his truth, you still shake your head, wishing you could reach up for him. Azriel smirked cooly down at you as his hands began to smooth over your stomach, higher until cupping your breasts, his finger and thumb pinching your pebbled nipples, causing you to moan and try and arch into the touch.
“My greedy, greedy girl. Is it not enough that both of my brothers have made you cum all of those times already?”
“I need you” you gasp breathlessly at his rough touches as he continues to play with your already sensitive nipples.
“And I need you”, he says earnestly, and you couldn’t deny the whimper that left your throat at his words. “What do you want first, fingers, mouth or cock?”
“Cock”, you say without a hint of hesitation but are unable to look him in the eye at the use of the crude word, which also earned a hearty laugh from Rhys.
Azriel’s hand's massage further up your body until he's covering you completely, almost in the same position that Cass had been, as his fingers cup around your jaw and hips slot between your thighs.
“My pretty girl can have my cock”, Azriel muses as he lowers his lips to hover just over yours, not closing the gap entirely as you try and lean up to capture his mouth, but he teases by staying an inch away.
You’re soon distracted by your cunt once more, stretching to accommodate your sizeable mate, particularly Azriel. A moment passed when he allowed you to collect your breath before his restraint was released.
He fucked you with long, powerful thrusts that, if you weren’t already being held down to the bed, you probably would have shifted up into the headboard with how hard his hips slammed into yours. Those lips of his that you had been desperate to kiss finally closed the gap as well, absorbing all your begs and moans for more. The restraints around your wrists released but only for a moment as Az eased your hands above your head, holding your crossed-over wrists in one hand as his other squeezed and held onto your hip for stability.
The dominance of his hold was similar to how Cass and Rhys had held you, but there was just something else when it came to Az; whether it be his shadows or the way he paid such close attention to your body, he seemed to be able to bring you right to the edge in no time at all.
Pulling your lips back from his for a second, you gasped, “I-” Your words failed with the need to tell him you want to orgasm, but he already knows.
“Cum for me”, he demands, not slowing with his fucking. Your cunt tightened around his girthy cock, squeezing in flutters until you were squeezing your eyes closed and forgetting to breathe.
The hand on your hip moved to your throat, wrapping around it, pressing slightly but not enough to stop you breathing as he ordered, “Cum again”. 
You weren’t sure whether it was a shadow or the specific way he was rolling his hips, but your clit was being massaged in time with his thrusts, and you were just about ready to explode. One orgasm led to another without a break in between, and with the previous orgasms that you’d already experienced, Azriel was right that something seemed to switch as you reached your level of exhaustion. 
“You look so beautiful when you're cumming on my cock. Want to know how I’ve been keeping count of your orgasms? When you cum, your eyes glaze over for just a second, like you’re so lost in pleasure that you leave your body and then come back, but feeling how tight your cunt is gripping me right now is just a bonus”.
Hearing his words and grunts had you in a state of pure bliss, wishing even more that your arms were free to hold onto some part of his body. Your mouth opens to let out a mewling moan, biting your bottom lip as you try to remain focused on Az.
“I know it’s a lot for you to deal with. Love, do you need to use your words?”
“No, please don’t stop”, you demand, trying to roll your hips to match his movements, but the weight on top of your body pinned that area of you down.
“Good girl. Want to cum together? I know you can do it again for me; I know you’re sensitive, but let’s cum together, my love”, he groans as he finishes his demands as he watches your eyes glaze and then roll back as your cunt begins to squeeze him tightly in bursts as you came again.
Azriel’s wings flared even further, nearly knocking Cassian and Rhys as he came with a heavy grunt and thrust, stilling so that every drop emptied inside of you until there was no room left, and it began to trickle out to join the puddle of your other two mates on the sheets below.
Soft lips caressed your cheek as Az praised you with kind words, “You did so well for me”. He moved lower, exploring your throat, collarbones, sternum, over your belly button and only then did you realise what his plans were. “I’m not done with you yet”.
The shadows release your ankles so that your mate can grip your legs and press your thighs back, baring your thoroughly fucked, pulsing, cum filled cunt to him. Az growls as he delves his tongue deep within, feeling the lingering pulses of your overstimulated walls, the softness that had slightly swollen from the amount of fucking you’d been doing.
Even though you released a guttural scream, back arching as far as you could reach, his warm tongue was a welcome sensation, soothing the ache. Your arousal also burned in your core at the thought of Azriel eating all the different concoctions of seed still spilling out, but he only groaned in pleasure at the taste. 
You were enjoying the feeling of his tongue trying to empty your pussy of juices with a flick and curl of the muscle, but as he moved p to your hypersensitive, swollen and throbbing clit, the fire and burning returned as he circled the nub slowly.
“Ah!” you cry out as your eyes clench close, attempting to close your legs, but he held them firmly open.
“Eyes on me”, Azriel demands, looking up at your face closely to look for signs if it's too much or if you’re doing any sort of sign for him to stop.
“Please!” you beg, eyes widening as you make sure to look at him lying with his face between your legs, his hair sticking up, and once more, your hands itched to stroke through the strands. You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, but as he continued with the slow circling of your clit with his tongue and the burning subsided and was replaced with the tightening within your pussy, you knew you were going to cum again. The thought frankly scared you with how many you’d had already.
“I know you can do it”, he encourages as his wet tongue returns to your hole as his cold thumb presses your clit. Tears had begun to line your eyes, streaking down your cheeks as you came with a cry, your entire body trembling and muscles aching from the amount of tensing you’d been doing for what seemed like hours now.
Your hearing was turning fuzzy, so when Rhys deeply groaned as he came over his chest from watching you orgasm so hard, it sounded like he was in another room, almost like cotton wool had been forced into your ears.
“It’s too much, " you hiccup, wishing you could wipe away the tears wetting the pillow beneath your head.
Azriel tried to sound as sympathetic as possible as he looked up at you, kissing your thigh that was once more being held back by shadows, “I know, my love, but only a few more times. You can do it”. You cry out once more as he begins to lower his face back to your pussy but pauses just as two of his fingers circle your hole. “Remember what we talked about?” Nodding your head in response whilst maintaining eye contact, he continued, “You’re in control of the situation, understand?”
“Yes, I understand”, you utter whilst taking a deep breath, trying to calm your cries. His two fingers enter you slowly at first, easing and out before a third one joins. Usually, it would take you some time to adjust to the size of his fingers, but after the sizeable cocks, you didn’t need any prep for the three fingers.
Az moved them with speed, curling to stroke against that beautiful spot that had stars beaming in your eyesight which only heightened as his lips sealed around your already overstimulated clit, and he sucked. He knew exactly what he was doing, and with each orgasm that came, the response was more exaggerated from you, and the time between them decreased. You were pretty sure if he continued, you would just be having one single orgasm that went on and on until you inevitably passed out.
Just when you're tensing all over, cunt tightening around his three fingers, did he move in with the next and final step of his plan. Azriel's icey, scarred hand wrapped around your nose and mouth. It was a relief at first to have something cool against your hot skin, but as you tried to suck in a breath as your orgasm neared closer, the panic set in.
It was what you had hoped for, to have the control taken away, but knowing that if you tapped your fingers or shook your head underneath his palm, it would stop. The thing was, you were already beginning to feel somewhat loopy from the orgasms that you didn’t want it to stop, which was why Azriel was doing this; he knew your body down the tiniest detail, especially with his shadows whispering away in his ear, counting your heartbeat.
The adrenaline only seemed to increase further as panic was doubling as you attempted to pull against the shadows around your wrists and thighs. The overwhelming pleasure between your lungs was the only thing that burned more than the need to breathe. You’re unsure what you need more, to cum or breath, but you’re only given one option, just as dark spots replaced the stars in your vision as you came around his fingers with an incredible squeeze of your walls around the digits.
Musky, sweated scented air filled your lungs desperately as his hand now cupped your cheek, supporting you as you tried to regain your full consciousness, but as Azriel continued to finger you, now at a slower pace, all you could think about was him and nothing more.
“That’s it- nice deep breaths for me. You’re doing so well for me. Did that feel good?” Az asks.
“Ye-Yes!” you stutter while trying to catch your breath. Your head lolls to one side while you nuzzle into his palm. Your eyes are entirely gazed at and unfocused, looking down at your mate.
“Good”, is all he says as he returns to sucking your clit and covering your mouth and nose again.
This time he had to tap your face a few times after you came to rouse you properly, but you were still greedily sucking air without an issue. However, now, Cassian and Rhys had stood, towering over the sides of the beds with concern, but arousal still evident across their beautiful faces.
“That’s a good girl. How do you feel?” Azriel asks, ignoring the two other males.
“Goo-Good. Good, " you say repeatedly, having only the energy and mental capacity to repeat the same words repeatedly.
You’re starting to feel a tingling sensation throughout your limbs, the edges of your sight blurring completely as your thoughts remain on how good you felt. Az watched you so closely that you weren’t sure he was blinking. “I know I can get you to cum one more time for me”.
However, before you can nod, you’re both interrupted by Rhysand growling, “Azriel. She’s had enough”.
“No, she hasn’t. I know she hasn’t. Just trust me. You can do this, can’t you, Love?” Azriel asks you.
Making sure to look him in the eye, you nod your head and say, “Yes”. Those special fingers of his begin curling with great speed once more as his tongue circles your throbbing clit.
You’re breathing heavily, screaming constantly until the air is cut off once more. Your lungs burn, your head is spinning, and all you can think of is cumming, begging silently to cum for Azriel, to be good for him, that you could do this, you could cum and show your other mates that Azriel was right.
As your orgasm rushes through you, your entire body does the opposite as it had been before. Instead of tensing, it went completely limp, eyes rolling back as your cunt continued to pulse and squeeze around his digits. When your eyes opened again, Azriel was half hovering above you, his fingers carefully easing out of your cunt, but you could hardly feel it as he tapped your cheeks a few times to bring you around more.
“I-I-I-I-I”, you mumbled incoherently as the shadows dispersed from your body entirely so you were no longer restrained.
“Shhh, you’re ok. You’re safe, Love, you’re ok”, Azriel whispers carefully as he begins to massage areas of your body to help you feel more, but it doesn’t help the complete and utter bliss settled through your mind and soul. It felt as if you were floating, and you never wanted to come back down again.
Azriel gave silent instructions to Rhysand, who shared these with Cassian as they stood beside the side of the bed, unsure if they should be ripping Azriel apart or helping their mate.
“Azriel”, Cassian warns, his entire body stiff and muscles flexing as he watches you blink heavily, body twitching with uncontrollable movements. Even though you were sucking in deep breaths, it seemed like you couldn’t catch your breath again.
“She’s fine, aren’t you?” Azriel asks, stroking away the flowing tears that you hadn’t noticed had started again down your cheeks.
“Ye-Ye-Yes. Yes, Yes”, you say, nodding tiredly.
“Are you sure?” Cass whispers, kneeling on the side of the bed and reaching for your hand, noticing that you couldn’t even squeeze his hand back as he held it carefully.
“Just give her some time; her head is all over the place at the moment, but it’s exactly where she wanted to be”, the Shadowsinger explained under his breath, still watching you very closely.
“Cu-Cum, cum”, you mutter, words still somewhat muffled from how heavy your tongue felt in your mouth.
“What’s that,  Love?” Azriel asks, “You want to cum again?”
“Y-Yes”, you nod slowly, still staring blankly up at the ceiling.
Azriel smiles down at you. “So good for me. I think you’ve had enough for today. Just take some slow, deep breaths for me” You follow his instructions, taking slow, deep breaths until you don’t feel breathless anymore. As exhaustion begins to take over, your eyes close, but those scarred hands tap gently against your cheek to keep them open; you can’t even feel the temperature of his cold hands.
“I need you to keep your eyes on me. I don’t want you to fall asleep in this headspace, okay? Just like we talked about. "
“Ok”, you say just once, looking up at him but not seeing at all.
“What headspace? Did you break my mate, Azriel?” Rhysand snarls as he, too, kneels on the side of the bed, his wings extended to match his Brothers. The darkness of night crawls from his tense shoulders as he reaches forward to run a hand over the arm and leg closest to him.
“She’s not broken; she’s just floating. Isn’t that right?” You nod, looking only at Azriel. Cass sighs through his nose, having not had the answers given to him right away, as Az continues to give only half sentences. “I’ll explain in a minute, but I just need you to be there for her as she properly comes back”.
It takes several moments of tense massaging and silent raging for the boys as they watch you tiredly blink, the unfocused gaze and dreamy stare slowly hardening until you’re actually looking at your surroundings, shivering at the coolness of Azriel’s hands as they travel down your ribs.
Floating was the only way you could describe the experience like you had miraculously grown your own pain of Iillyrian wings and were flying through the clouds without care. Even the soft sheets beneath you couldn’t be felt when you were in that high headspace. Not even your name could be drawn out of you if asked, but slowly, with the help of your mate's touches and scents and Rhysand caressing the wall in your mind, you finally topple back to reality.
Eyes flicking between your three mates, two of which looked like they were bracing for war,  you finally gave a tentative smile, feeling your cheeks warming back up from their intense gazes. 
“There’s my girl”, Cass praises as he squises your wrist gently.
“Hey”, you whisper croakily, throat aching from all the screaming you’d been doing.
Azriel lowers himself, kissing your lips carefully once before maintaining intense eye contact. At this close proximity, you can see the hints of green throughout his hazel eyes. “You’re safe with us; you know that, right?”
“Yes, I know. I feel safe”, you reassure him, trying to lift your hand to caress his cheeks, but your arms are still too quick.
“Good, we’re going to bath together and clean you up. Then I think we need to explain to these two what’s happened”, Azriel explained as you nodded in understanding and closed your eyes, but a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose had you opening them again as his gaze softened, “I still need you to keep your eyes open. I don’t think you’re completely back yet, so no sleeping just yet.”
Before you can nod in understanding, two arms are carefully shifting beneath your body. One hook is under your knees, and the other supports your back as Rhysand lifts you to his chest, your head carefully laying across his shoulder as he walks the two of you into the bathing room.
Nuzzling into his warmth, he rested the two of you in the vast-sized bath and began to run the water hot, letting it slowly creep up your body as you sat between his muscular legs. Rhys held you close, ensuring that your eyes remained open and on his. The violet colour returned to the brightness you were used to as he continued to massage your limbs back to life.
Splashing from behind you indicates that the other two had joined in the water as they both hissed at the heat soaking into their muscles. Az takes your legs into his lap, massaging carefully over your calves as Cass takes hold of a hand, kissing the back of it and linking your fingers together.
Everyone’s attention then turns to Azriel as he begins to explain. “It’s called subspace”.
“Sub? Space?” Cassian repeats slowly, as if trying to sound out the new phrase but is entirely unsure.
“Yes”, continued Az, “It’s related to hormones and an emotional state where an individual becomes so lost within the moment, almost like a trance, that they aren’t able to make decisions for themselves and experience side effects like feeling the sensation that they are floating or euphoric. Similar to an out-of-body experience or a high. It can come from a physical response like shown today or an emotional response depending on how submissive the individual is”.
Rhysand seemed to tense further after the explanation, so you tried to lean into his body more as he began to talk. “Right, ok.  So, this is something you’ve experienced before?”  he asks, tilting his head down to look at you.
“Yes”, you say stoically, now not looking him in the eye as your fingers curl and grip Cassian, as the sensations return to you. “You know the male that I was with years before I met any of you? He um- He,” you were struggling to find the correct phases to say as you could feel the tension suddenly thick in the air at the mention of your previous lover.
Thankfully, Azriel continued the explanation for you, but you didn’t miss the stern tone of his voice. “With subspace, it’s important for the one experiencing it to have some sort of support. As I’ve explained, it’s to consent or look after yourself when going through a high like this. What my love is trying to explain is that this fucker used to leave her like how she was and either go drinking or fall asleep. She’d be on her own and-” Azriel blows out a long, steady breath as he closes his eyes, the shadows beginning to shake around him with the increase of his anger.
Sitting up further in Rhys’ lap, you continued the discussion. “I like getting to the point of being in subspace. It feels so freeing, and I trust you all to look after me; that’s why I spoke to Az first, just to make sure that you’d even want to try it, and I know it can look scary. But with my previous partner, he would leave me by myself, and I’d fall asleep, and when I woke up, I would have this impending doom sensation. I’ve read that it still has something to do with hormones. Still, I would feel so low and depressed without the support, almost like I was going to die with how low I felt. Still, after a few days, I would feel back to normal”.
You wanted to be open with them all, but seeing them all holding back some restraint with the anger they were experiencing, you knew you needed to pull them back before they went on the hunt.
“Please, for the love of the Mother, tell me this fuckers name”, Cassian demands lowly. It was your only secret, the name of the male you’d once been with and had been emotionally scarred from. You were unsure as to why, whether it be fear or to refrain from violence, but you had never told any of them the name.
Shaking your head no, you collapse further into Rhys, which causes some tension to leave his body as he holds you close with an arm around your waist and his lips caressing the back of your head.
“You know, I could just slip into your mind and find out”, Rhyand whispers, stating something that both Cass and Az were wondering.
“Yes, you could, but you won’t, " you confidently say. It was the one wish you had made him promise upon becoming mate- no creeping through your mind, no matter what. Rhys kisses your head again to confirm that he wouldn’t do this.
“So this subspace, " Cassian interrupts the anger by changing the subject to something you were thankful for. Are you sure it feels good? I thought you had passed out earlier, which frightened me, to be truthful with you. "
Your fingers squeeze his once more as you look over at him and give him a reassuring smile, “It feels amazing and a little addicting to feel like that and like I said, I trust the three of you more than anyone. Usually, it doesn’t take long for me to fall into subspace, but it’s been a while; I think I’ve put some barriers up in my mind to stop going to that place because of my past”.
“And luckily for her, I’ve seen this sort of thing before”, Azriel explains.
“So how do we make sure she doesn’t feel awful like she did with that fucker?” Cass asks with a subtle growl.
“Aftercare”, Az explains with a shrug of his shoulders, “Exactly like you have been doing already. Making sure she stays awake and feels safe, food and water helps. Talking to her, holding her, and warm baths are always good”.
You gently smile with Azriel as he lists what you cherish most about aftercare, but Cassian’s next question causes you to nearly bite your tongue.
“And the choking? To the point where she nearly passed out. Was that part of the subspace, too?”
Azriel smirks cockily as you giggle and hide your face in Rhys’ chest. “No, she just wanted to try that out. It’s called breathplay. It’s not for everyone; I’ve had some experience with it. Can’t just go around choking people until they pass out like a brute, Cass”.
The water sways as your mate shoves Az in the shoulder.
The chest you’re learning on begins to vibrate as Rhys muses, “Guess even after 500 years of living, I still have lots to learn”. You hum in response, exhaustion fully settling into your body now as you wish to close your eyes so you look over at Az,
“Can I sleep yet?”
“Not yet. I need you to eat and drink something first. Stay here; I’ll get you something, " he explains as he kisses your knee, lowers your feet into Cass’s lap, and climbs out of the bath. You sigh into the embrace of your other mates.
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lyssasdrafts · 8 days
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unrequited love (part 2) — azriel x reader
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description: (part 1) azriel realizes you’ve been avoiding him, he confronts you and the mating bond snaps between the both of you.
includes: angst with a happy ending, mating bond, emotional azriel
@cumuluscranium @anuttellaa @cupidojenphrodite @saltedcoffeescotch @tele86 asked to be tagged for pt2 !!
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azriel didn’t deserve a mate.
he never once bothered to consider himself as someone who could be loved. he wasn’t beautiful or charismatic like rhysand, he wasn’t strong or resilient like cassian. azriel was the boy who had grown up in isolation. the boy who never once saw the light outside his window. the boy who was left alone in that cold cellar for so many years, who had the scars to show for it. who could ever love someone with a past like that?
azriel knew he wasn’t easy to be around. he saw the way that you shivered when you first met him, the way your gaze always drifted whenever it met his eyes. was he really that intimidating? azriel saw the way you hesitated around him, how nervous you were when he spoke. he felt the way you stared at him whenever you thought he wasn’t watching. for whatever reason, it made his heart beat faster whenever you did that.
you were just one of the many people he’s probably scared. azriel knew he could be quite uninviting towards the people around him . even when he tried to start any conversations, the way the words became dry on his lips and his voice left his throat felt discouraging.
his friends always laughed and talked around him while he reluctantly nodded along and gave small smiles. his family, his friends. azriel sometimes wondered why they stayed with him for long, the centuries they spent as a court blurring together and they still never urged him. they never overstepped his boundaries, perhaps because they didn’t care enough, or perhaps they knew he wouldn’t talk about it. but perhaps that was a good thing. nobody questioned the dark look in his eyes whenever he came back from his missions, rhysand just nodded and told him that he did a good job, moving on to his other high lord responsibilities.
azriel watched as rhysand taught his son how to fly, the way his friend grinned proudly whenever nyx stretched out his tiny wings. he found it within himself to smile at the sight of them too, despite the feeling that something heavy weighed in his heart, something that weighed his every movement.
azriel took a glance at the childhood that he never had, the one that he never will have, he corrected. azriel would never forget the days he’d spent alone, trapped in that dark cellar. he wondered if the light within his eyes that slowly dimmed each moment that passed would ever return. perhaps it was unfair for azriel to wish for someone to make it come back. it was unfair for him to ever wish himself upon anyone.
he was reminded of all this again when cassian had asked you about having a mate, to which you softly answered “no.” at least that made the both of you.
“what about you, azriel?” you asked him. the glint in your eyes, your pretty smile, it took everything within himself to say no to you. he stared at you for a moment before giving his response, as sharply as possible.
“i don’t have a mate,” azriel said coldly. “and i don’t want one.”
you nodded politely in response, the smile suddenly fading from your lips. you glanced at cassian, seeming uneasy. he watched as cassian walked you home, feeling a pang of envy in his chest that you hadn’t trusted him instead. azriel shook off the feeling, perhaps there had just been something wrong with him that day.
and since then, azriel began noticing your quiet absences from his life. he heard the wind carry away your laughter from afar, he witnessed the way you joked and smiled as usual at training. whenever he came around though, it would be dead silent. azriel once met your gaze everyday at training, only for you to start looking at the ground now when speaking to him.
he didn’t know he started envisioning you whenever he closed his eyes, how your words echoed through his mind when he was supposed to be asleep. he didn’t realize how attached he was to your presence, how much he longed for you.
azriel had always known longing. azriel longed to feel comforted, to feel loved. to be touched and held with the intimacy that he only watched his brothers feel with their own mates. but somehow, he only wanted it to be you. it was strange, the way his feelings gravitated towards you.
he needed to confront this, he needed to confront his own attraction towards you and why you had ignored him.
he tried seeking you out after practice, but instead you kept walking away, turning away at the sight of him only for him to find you again in another room alone. azriel leaned against the door frame, blocking your exit so that he could speak with you.
“you’re avoiding me,” azriel said.
your eyes widened in shock at first, you hadn’t realized he would even notice you. your face twists, “i haven’t been. you just don’t seem interested-”
“did i do something wrong?” his voice shifted, his tone softened. azriel looked down on you with his hazel eyes, pleading for something, anything. you gave him a glare before muttering a quick, “no,” and walking towards the door.
he grabbed your wrist, a chill went down his spine. the moment stopped for both of you, simply staring at each other in silence. the realization flashed before him as he looked into your eyes, how they stared up at him in anticipation.
azriel suddenly felt that tug on his heart, the same one that connected him to you. that explained the attraction, the longing, the desire that he felt for you. you were the other half to his broken, fractured heart. the tears stinging in his eyes clouded his vision but he still moved his hand to wipe your own tears off your face.
“you’re my mate,” he whispered to the world. but more importantly, to you.
it suddenly occurs to him that you knew. you knew he was your mate. you had sensed it before he could and tried to ask him. but instead of returning your feelings, azriel had shut you out. you can’t bring yourself to do anything other than repeat his name to yourself.
“azriel,” you say softly before you let yourself fall onto his chest. he wraps his arm around you, his newfound mate, the missing piece of him.
he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, his scared hands still trembling to touch you. it had been his touch that sparked the bond to snap for you. “i’m sorry,” azriel muttered. “i’m sorry, y/n.”
you shake your head at his words, letting him know he shouldn’t apologize for anything. you hug azriel back, breathing in the feeling of having your mate with you.
“you’re not…” he begins, “you’re not afraid of me?” the hesitancy in his voice, a vulnerability that he’s never shown before. azriel wondered about what you would think of him if you knew about his past, his story, the reasons behind the scars on his body and the memories he tried so desperately to forget.
had he really deserved your love? you were so bright and joyful, lighting up any room you walked into. azriel had believed that he would only dull your light, that he would hold you back. he had never intended to reject you, but he would still loathe himself for the time to come for doing so.
you cup his face with your hands before looking into his eyes, “you never scared me, azriel.”
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steviewashere · 5 months
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Kiss and Tell
(Can be found on ao3)
Steddie WC: 2,279 Tags: Post Season 4, Steve Harrington Has Auditory Processing Disorder, Eddie Munson Loves to Talk, Minor Angst, Mostly Fluff, Queer Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has a Bisexual Awakening, But He Already Knows (Sort of), First Kiss, Lots of Kissing
Based on this post that I made. Happy reading! <3
-------- Steve has a staring problem. He knows this. He's been told this. And it's not something he can help or fix or find an alternative for. This is just what he knows.
It's something he's tried to maintain since he was a little boy. And, on that same note, is something he picked up while being a boy in a room with two adults who were fast talkers and big negotiators and all-in on the nature of their careers. But his parents certainly hate that he has a staring problem. Which, that's not unusual, most people hate that he does. Because he doesn't look them in the eyes for more than thirty seconds at a time. And even if he does, he doesn't hear a single thing they said, politely asking they start over, and feeling hurt when they just scoff as loud as possible and walk away from the conversation all together.
The audio just doesn't process. Never has. Probably never will.
He listens to music, but doesn't understand any meaning. He talks over the phone, but must have all other sound blocked out and the curtains shut and his eyes closed to imagine what the words look like leaving the other person's mouth. He argues, but loses track of the original point of the argument—when he laughs instead of apologizes.
And it would be fine—if—he wasn't close to losing his life every year. Where he has to listen to everybody and the important tiny details and the plans and the reasons for what they're doing. Which leads him to danger. Which gives him a bruised face. Which makes the listening even harder, once the concussion leaves and he's just got the leftover damage of his quirkiness.
It would be fine—if—he wasn't made to feel so stupid for what he must do. The jabs and the constant reminders and the...yeah, his sob story.
But there was Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins, who he could keep up with. Because they'd talk about the same things over and over, until he could practically relay all the information, pulled straight from the deep crevices of his brain, and it ends up that they had forgotten, rather than him.
And there was Nancy Wheeler, who was polite enough to repeat things. Who had flash cards and a soft, focusing voice. It was easy to write off looking at her lips. "Eyes up here, Steve," she'd say. "Sorry," he'd respond sheepishly, "getting lost." And he'd chuckle and she'd giggle and then they'd kiss a little and he wouldn't be reminded that he's just a little weird. That, maybe, he just isn't normal.
Robin Buckley makes things easy-ish. She talks fast. And a lot. And she never looks him in the eyes, unless she's asking for a very serious favor, or he has something on his face, or she just feels the need (she claims it's that she hasn't looked in a while, but he shrugs her off every time). (If he can get away with staring at her lips, then she can get away with never looking him in the eyes.) He's mentioned, though, that he has a hard time following her sometimes. That he needs the words repeated a few times. Explained the lip thing, with a tense voice and a quake in his chest and his fingers tapping at the sides of his thighs. And, for a brief moment, he had felt like a creep. Like one of those weirdos that preys on the idea of women kissing. And he wanted to open up Family Video's register, shove his head inside, and sort himself out into the container of fives. But she shrugged, said "Okay," and went back on some ramble, to which he was immediately drawn to her mouth. And saw her repeat the name, Vickie, at least twenty times. He grinned and then when the store was empty, he leaned across the counter and teasingly said, "You have a big fat crush on Vickie, don't you?" To say that he was proud of her sputtering is an understatement.
Now, Dustin and the others were harder to get through. Because they moved at their own pace. And they don't really stop to add him to the conversation. He gets it, to an extent. He knows that he's not really all that intrigued in what they enjoy. (Even if he really leans into the conversation when they mention Sherlock Holmes or Dracula or Star Wars or, even, Star Trek. And he pretends to not be interested in their science fair projects. Or the one time he caught them huddled around a Sports Illustrated, in which he fought the urge to chat their ears off about both baseball and basketball statistics.) But there's a point in the conversations where he's made to feel a little dumb; even if he was staring where they were speaking, but they always grow frustrated, a huff of air released, when they notice he's not "paying attention" (translation: looking them in the eyes. "Because, Steve, it's just talking etiquette!" Dustin had shouted once).
He loves all of them anyway. Even if he misses words. And he loses track of what they were saying. He just wishes they were a little bit more forgivable about it at the end of the day.
Then, Eddie Munson is walking along side him in an alternate universe. He's peeled the vest off his back and chucked it at Steve. And they're talking. Jealous of one another, but talking. But, Eddie's voice goes soft and quiet, his eyes pointing towards Nancy's back.
Steve is looking at Nancy, words fading into the background. And it's not a moment of realization. Or a moment of longing. Yearning, what say you. No—it's one of his moments in which he's "listening," but not processing. So he looks back. And for a mere second, Eddie's eyes are big where Steve stares. Big and wet and curious. Big and wet and persuasive. Big and wet and not at all his lips and Steve is still not listening.
But his lips. Well, Steve's seen lips. These are pretty. They're pink. Chapped and bitten and plush appearing. Mesmerizing. Stretching over Eddie's sharp teeth, exposing dimples and smile lines, making his recent stubble more noticeable than it's ever been before. But his lips are pretty.
Like girls lips, Steve muses. Not really taking in what that means. Because Eddie's saying something about true love. And—shit—okay. Steve can get behind an act of true love. He can get behind sharing denim and coating Eddie's clothes in blood and staring down his lips and—god, his eyes, Steve can't help but notice once more.
Eddie's like a vulnerable cow. With pretty lips, he has to point out. Or a baby deer. With such pretty lips. And he's talking and Steve's finally listening. But it's not just processing. No, Steve's intrigued, interested even. He tilts his head like a curious puppy. Leaning in. Eddie's breath ghosts the tip of his nose. And, sure, it's a little rank. But weirdly sweet. Warm where Steve is otherwise cold. Warm in places Steve's never considered to feel warm in, but he's willing to give in, to wrap up in whatever Eddie has to say. If it all means more of him.
So, it makes sense that after all that they go through, Steve finds himself in Eddie's orbit. As a friend. As a trauma bond. As everything Eddie needs him to be.
He sits on the Munson's couch. On the cushion that dips a little too low. The lights orange and dim and casting beautiful streaks of almost candle light on Eddie's soft, beautiful features. Highlighting where his nose is the most bulbous. His pronounced Cupid's bow. The outer edges of his irises, golden and honey against the off-white of his scleras.
Eddie talks like Robin does. Excited. A lot. Fast. But his voice is soft, focused on the information—like Nancy's. It's teasing, like Dustin's. Soft, though. So gentle. Murmured. Which makes sense, if Steve were to stop and think about it for just a moment. With how late it is. With the little amount of weed they smoked. And it all just fits, with how slow and careful Eddie's lips move. As if testing the words. As if searching for what he means.
But, god, Steve is following along. Of course he is. Hanging onto each one of Eddie's words.
"So, the cashier at the record store got all apprehensive about selling me this tape. Which, I guess makes sense because it's a special edition. Comes with a photo card or whatever, but like—Come on, y'know? If he wanted it so bad, he should'a bought it the moment it dropped. Not my fault he slacks on not just his job, but also his opportunities," Eddie rambles. And, that's right, he's complaining about the music store encounter he had today. Trying to buy some album for some band. Steve got lost part of the way through, so he's not sure who exactly Eddie was getting a tape for. The style of music. But he has most of the information. He just—
Has to squint harder.
So, Steve leans in. As casual as he possibly can. And narrows his eyes at Eddie's lips. The word pretty comes to mind again. Because of course it does. And he can't pull his eyes away, no matter how hard he tries. For some reason, the tips of his fingers tingle a little. Wanting to reach out. Trace his lower lip, right where it sticks out, just above the divot of his chin. Would it be soft, he asks himself. Does he wear chapstick? Steve sighs softly. I wish I could...taste it. His eyes widen, just the tiniest bit. But he ignores that in favor of whatever Eddie is saying. If only he could make it out. He leans impossibly closer.
And there it is again. The soft puffs of warm air. On the tip of his nose. His own lips. Tickling his stubble. Eddie's breath smells like weed and strawberry Tab; a little bit of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Maybe the smallest trace of pepper—
"Uh, Steve?" Eddie nervously calls out. But gets no response. Steve is only a couple inches away from his face. Eyes hooded. Glassy. Zeroed in on Eddie's lips. He's not talking. Doesn't even give a hum. Just...keeps staring.
Eddie sucks in a breath. Eyes darting over Steve's face. He doesn't talk again, hoping maybe Steve will stop. But, nope. In fact, the only thing Eddie gets as acknowledgement for the fact he's stopped talking, is that Steve pouts. Upset. As if his lips no longer moving is some great catastrophe to Steve, some tragedy, some misfortune.
And, Eddie, the awful wreck that he is, can only assume that this means one thing.
Steve wants a kiss. And is, maybe, too chicken shit to close the gap.
So, with no other option. And definitely not wanting to get away from the heated, stirring, calm mask of Steve's face—Eddie presses his mouth against Steve's. Hesitantly smushing their lips together. Dragging his lower lip against Steve's soft scowling one.
And he pulls away. Because Steve isn't doing anything in response.
No, in fact, Steve is extremely expressive now.
Wide eyes. Mouth opened into a silent "Oh." His cheeks are flushed. And as quick as it came upon him, whatever realization that was, fades. Like a cartoon character, Steve's face melts into one of pure infatuation. Mouth lilting. His posture slouching. Eyes going soft against the extreme red of his face.
"Do that again," Steve whispers.
Eddie obliges. And he obliges. And he keeps obliging until they're under a cool top sheet, skin slick with sweat and eyes piercing one another's mouths.
That's when, in the silent air of Eddie's tiny bedroom, Steve admits the greatest thing in the world. "I don't really process when people are talking unless I'm looking at their mouth. I have to read their lips. I didn't—I wasn't trying to kiss you at first, but—" And the motherfucker giggles. "If that's all it took..." Then he's kissing Eddie again. Like it's the last thing he'll ever get to do. And Eddie thinks, If I die from running out of breath doing this, then I've done everything in my life correctly.
So, sure, Steve has a huge staring problem. And he doesn't really listen. And it's something he'll never fix, even if there's a way to.
But he finds that his technique—the thing he's crafted since he was a little boy—no longer works. At least, not on Eddie. Because suddenly, looking at his gorgeous pink lips makes Steve only able to think about one thing: Kissing. And he can't follow along unless he fulfills that want.
Eddie could be in the middle of a deep, all inclusive description of his recent trap in the campaign he's crafting. He could be singing. He could be complaining about some movie he rented. But that doesn't matter. Because he stops talking the moment Steve leans in and kisses him. Kisses like he needs it to live.
And though he rolls his eyes. Huffs a breath. Smirks and barrels on. There's that giddiness, that love pooling in Eddie' heart. Just knowing the effect he has on Steve. And the way he's affected, too, when Steve just whispers, "Sorry, I got lost again. Start over?"
He obliges. And he keeps obliging. And his lips are usually swollen by the time he's finally done rambling.
Steve stares. Eddie talks. And it's the combination of a lifetime.
--------
❤️
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annwe24 · 13 days
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SUGAR DADDY! LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X READER
Part 2
Summary: Lucifer and you reach a somewhat transactional relationship. However, you find yourself develop feelings for him.
A/N: i just wanted to write something short:)
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Sighing, you put one of your rings back into your jewelry box. You have been sitting in front of your makeup mirror for 2 hours, suffering from having too many jewelry options. Well…maybe that's not exactly suffering.
It is a cycle repeating almost every week. The King of Hell takes you out for some fancy dinner date and almost always ends up with you and him making a mess in bed. You don't know how long this relationship will last and you are sure he will soon find another "entertainer" (probably skinnier). That thought makes you recoil when looking at your reflection in the mirror. You have never been comfortable in your own skin. Heck, why would a King of all places dote on someone who looks like they can eat 10 pounds of grilled cheese?
*Circus ringtone*
Shit! You think to yourself. Nervously gripping at your designer hand bag, you inhale and exhale to calm down before finally pressing the accept button. Despite being quite close to the King (maybe too close), he never fails to make you stumble over his every little actions. He commented politely on this once; however, that hasn't improved one bit.
Hey, just wanna check up on you, darling. Are you ready to head out?
His sugar-coated voice makes you shiver a bit. You take a silent glance at your jewelry box before answering:
Yeah, you can pick me up now.
You finally admit defeat and settle down on the (f/c) set of earrings despite his preference being crimson. Sometimes, you just want to add a bit of yourself to the clothes you are wearing as a reminder to not lose yourself when indulging in his gifts. It's scary watching you slowly turn into nothing but a dress-up darling for the King. You feel less alive and more like a doll every time you go out with him. Your messy lines of thoughts are abruptly cut as a portal pops up. Standing straight and dusting the invisible dust off your fancy dress, you watched as Lucifer strides out gracefully. He pridely plants a soft kiss on your knuckles before taking in the most beautiful scenery before him-you. His eyes lingers a bit on your set of earrings before chuckling:
Darling, you look like the finest angel in hell.
Oh, Lucifer… You look away embarrassingly.
Fixing his coat, he opens another portal leading to a fancy-looking restaurant. The meal is going to cost more than all your organs combined. You think quietly to yourself.
You know what happens after the date. You and him. On the bed. Your clothes lying on where you don't fucking care because he will just buy you new one anyway. But you’ll be a liar if you don't find yourself enjoying the moment right now. It's your favorite activity. After intense moments, you always find yourself lying on his warm chest. It's addicting and capable of burning you alive. Maybe you do have a thing for him. Does Lucifer have a thing for you? Heaven knows. He tries to present his best version of himself for you. You don't know when the masterful actor will break his role and go off to find another toy. You just hope this lasts longer than you think. But that's enough thinking for today, you decide to focus on his gentle combing of your hair and the rise and fall of his chest instead, slowly drifting away to sleep.
Sleep fails you. It's one of those nights again where your thoughts are too loud.
Feeling a pressure on his chest, Lucifer let out a light grunt before opening his eyes. Your (e/c) ones stare back at him. You have always been… intriguing. That's why he keeps you so close, desperate for this relationship to work. He finds you addicting.
Do you love me?
Taken back by your question given the time and place, he scrambles his brain searching for a reasonable answer. The dinner went out as usual. He also makes sure to be as gentle as possible during the…uh…nevermind. Everything had been normal until now. Until you ask. Smiling sweetly at you, he tries to deliver his sentence as thoughtful as possible:
Of course, honey. You meant the world to me. What makes you question that?
Yeah, what makes you question that? You don't know. What do you even want from him? You don't know. Pushing further could lead to him getting annoyed and dumping you in the process. That reminds you of your old life. It's best to play it safe, maybe you are just confused. Afterall, you didn't have any time to process the relationship when all of this started. Nuzzling your head into his chest, you answered with your usual sweet bimbo voice that you hate so much:
Nothing! Just making sure.
You hear him let out a sign of relief and feel his shoulder relaxed. That night, you slept with a confused mess on your mind, just like any other night with him.
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f1reladymai · 2 months
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Aang getting so, uncharacteristically angry when Appa was taken by the sandbenders wasn’t just because of his love for his sky bison. Of course, that was a big part of it. Appa is more than just a pet to him, he’s his best friend and soulmate, someone who’s been around since Aang was very young and is meant to be a “companion for life”.
But, Aang ran away on a random Tuesday, got caught in a storm and it changed the whole trajectory of his life. He ran away because he was upset his life was changing so rapidly, he suddenly had all this responsibility at 12 years old that he wasn’t ready for but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have gone back. We don’t know what would have happened; he could have needed a few days to cool off, he could have seen the start of the war and stepped up (from what we know of Aang, there’s no way he would have ignored it for his own needs), but that didn’t happen.
He got caught in the ice for 100 years and when he woke up he discovered that not only was everyone he knew and loved were dead, but brutally murdered in an act of power. That everyone from his teachers, friends (children, like him) and animals, were gone. Not only that but his whole culture; traditions, foods, clothing, music… everything important was eradicated and possibly most of the documentation of the culture, too. He’s suddenly handed this new responsibility on top of being the Avatar, trying to uphold this culture (as literally the last airbender alive) and grieve at the same time.
And Aang grieves very privately, in fact, does he even give himself a chance? He discovered the horrible truth and his immediate response it so go have some fun, maybe because he knows if he thinks too hard about it and gives into the pain, he’ll turn into something he’s not, he’ll forget what the monks taught him and he can’t let that happen.
So he tries to channel all his grief and anger into being the Avatar, even if he still has his reservations, and by his side is Appa. The only thing keeping him tethered to his life 100 years ago and his culture. He’s been with him through everything, and will continue to be, like I said “companion for life”.
And then he’s gone, he’s taken, and all of a sudden Aang cannot keep the crushing weight of his loss at bay anymore and he… snaps, he loses control. He gives into the avatar state because not only is everything he knew and loved gone, taken from him for nothing more than political gain, but now his soulmate that represented everything he lost is gone, too and he doesn’t know what happened to him. Is he dead? Is he scared? Is he fed? Who knows.
Aang losing Appa with the final straw and his grief, something he was ignoring and refusing to deal with, was brought to the forefront when he lost Appa, making it impossible to ignore and if it wasn’t for us friends trying to ground him and remind him of who he was, who knows what would have happened.
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tlou-reid · 3 months
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Finishing Gifts ❤︎ Aaron Hotchner
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from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
♡ SUMMARY: after a few days of ignoring him, Aaron makes an effort to get your behavior to return to normal
♡ WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, smut, female and male masturbation, phone sex, mentions of watching porn, sex toys, drinking, small mentions of criminal minds-esque themes and violence, pretty much porn with very little plot, this is not edited like at all
♡ NOTE: something about writing aaron masturbating makes me go brrrrrr
˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
You had thought you were keeping your cool. Honestly, truly, you had thought no one would notice the small changes in your behavior. You had tried to be subtle in dodging Hotch, doing it slowly and over time. It had started with piggybacking Spencer’s theories in the field, which led to pushing to go look at a crime scene rather than to the police department with Hotch. Then evolved into getting deep into conversation with JJ as you approached the jet, using it as an excuse to claim a seat next to her rather than your normal position between Hotch and the window.
These acts had gone unnoticed, or, at least, you’d thought. In your determination to avoid them, you hadn’t noticed the strange looks Derek and Morgan had thrown each other, and then Aaron, as you relaxed next to JJ. You missed Garcia questioning what had been up with you as you extended your time making coffee before a briefing, just so you didn’t have to walk behind Hotch into the room.
But, your latest change to avoid your unit chief definitely didn’t fly under the radar. This one was loud and clear, and absolutely threw off the entire BAU.
You’d just completed, by all possible metrics, a very successful case. It was a rare one, looking at terrorism in the DC area. A group of people who were planting explosives around the city, in unsuspecting areas. Instead of targeting political buildings or memorials, they focused on smaller-scale destruction. The team had been able to put the perpetrators away with no more casualties than those that were gone before the team landed. All in all, it was incredibly stressful, but a win for the team.
So, after Emily’s suggestion and Derek’s reminder that it was an extended weekend due to a government holiday, the team was getting ready to head to the bar. You had begged to go home to shower, promising you’d take an Uber (so you could, in Penelope’s words, “get fucked up with the girls”) and meet them at the bar in about an hour.
You put on your best outfit, showing an appropriate amount of cleavage, and did your makeup to the best of your abilities. After you’d cleaned up, you went to open your Uber app, excited to have a night to relax.
However, you were cut off when a phone call overtook your screen. “Aaron” the contact name read, indicating it was your unit chief, and that he was calling from his personal cellphone. You let ring a few times before picking up, not wanting to seem too eager to talk to your boss.
“Hellooo,” you practically sung into the phone, too excited to be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of him. He simply replied with a formal “hello,” followed by your name. “Please don’t tell me you’re ruining my longggg weekend,” You said to him, and he swore he could hear some of jewelry shaking. You couldn’t keep your excitement in, shaking your wrists, which made your bracelets make noise.
He chuckled a bit at your reaction to him calling, “No, no. I was just calling to see if you had left yet.” You smiled against the phone, knowing where this conversation was going. “Nope! I was actually ordering my Uber when you called,” you informed him. “So, you haven’t ordered it?” He questioned again, to which you replied with a “uh-uh”.
You couldn’t tell but your excitement about going out with your friends was essentially oozing through the phone, causing Aaron to maintain a bright smile on his face. You weren’t aware of how your vibe, your energy, was able to lift a weight off of Aaron’s shoulders that had been there for as long as he could remember.
“I also had to run home before meeting the team. If you’d like, I can pick you up.” Your smile, somehow, grew even bigger. Any excuse to see Aaron was a good one, you’d thought.
However, your face quickly fell when you reminded yourself that you were supposed to be avoiding him. You felt a pang in your heart as you said, “Thanks, but I have a few things to finish up here! I appreciate the offer, Hotch.”
With a quick, formal goodbye, the called ended. Aaron tried to ignore the fact that you lied to him as he drove the rest of the way. You had said you were about to call your Uber, and he heard your jewelry, meaning you were putting the finishing touches on your outfit. So why wouldn’t you accept his ride?
He tried to ignore the blow to his chest when you called him Hotch. Something about the use of his last name made him feel as if he’d done something wrong. Not that it was unusual for you, or anyone really, to call him that. It was the emphasis you’d put on it. As if you were trying to make it known he was Hotch and not Aaron.
Aaron tried to turn off his profiling ability, but it was proving to be had as all of his thoughts were currently encompassed by you.
The night, and the whole weekend if you were being honest, went by in a blur. You could tell Aaron had noticed the change in your behavior. You were standoffish at the bar, pretty much avoiding any conversation with him. You just hoped by the end of the long weekend it would be forgotten, and you’d be able to continue work as normal.
This dream was quickly demolished as Aaron was summoning you into his office before you had the chance to even put your bag down and unpack your files.
The sound of calling your last name both frightened and intrigued you. You couldn’t help but be attracted to the authority in his voice, even if it could mean you were going to be in trouble.
As you stepped into the voice, Aaron didn’t even look up. He mumbled a “shut the door, please,” as he finished recording some notes on an opened file in front of him. You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for some kind instruction or reasoning from him.
“Please,” he gestured to the seats in front of his desk. You nodded, clumsily making your way to them. “I didn’t mean to scare you or make you uncomfortable by calling you in here,” he began.
You weren’t sure if you were more scared by being called into his office, to have a conversation that required you to both sit down and shut the door, or the intense eye contact he was maintaining as he introduced whatever discussion you two were about to have.
“I just couldn’t help but notice,” he paused for a second, trying to find the right words to say, “a recent change in your behavior.” You hoped he didn’t notice the way your eyes went wide, knowing you’d been caught. You didn’t have to ask what he was talking about to know you’d been caught, but you did anyway, “What do you mean?” You thought you were playing your part well, furrowing your eyebrows to truly emphasis your fake confusion.
“It feels as though you’ve been avoiding me.” Aaron says. His tone isn’t angry or even authoritative, but rather, disappointed. There’s a slight huff in the way he spoke. He didn’t give you a chance to defend yourself before he continued, “Which is fine if you so choose to do so. I would just like to know if it was because of something I did and if I could fix it. I want the team to function as well as it can, and I feel as though it would not if there was conflict between you and I.”
Aaron had to find a professional spin to throw his statement, knowing the professionalism of this situation was debatable at best. “Oh, sir,” you blushed, not really knowing what to say, “I don’t believe there is any conflict between us.” Your voice was formal, too formal. It was obvious you were under pressure. “So, what is it then?” He questioned.
You could feel yourself growing small under his intense stare. You could also feel the wet patch growing between your legs, making you slightly uncomfortable.
“You, uh, you kind of make nervous.” With your quiet voice and stutter, and the way your thighs squeezed together, it was easy for Aaron to pick up on the reason he made you nervous. His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink instantaneously. “Oh,” his voice trailed off, followed by your quiet, “yeah.”
There was a few beats of silence before he cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad to hear there’s no issues between us.” You nodded with his words, growing even more nervous. Your mouth was moving before your brain could catch up, “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to, it’s just been a minute since I’ve, ya know, and I know you’re boss but I will be completely professional and this will not effect my work in or out of the field.”
While you mean to be assuring your boss that your attraction to him was no detriment to your work, you just admitted that it’s been a minute since you’ve had an orgasm. You needed to end this conversation quickly.
“If that’s all,” You said as you stood, “I have a few more reports to finish.” Aaron simply nodded, dismissing you back into the bullpen. You made a break for the bathroom, hoping to have a few minutes to collect yourself before facing the race of the team. You felt exposed, knowing you were entering a room of profilers after since a painful experience. You needed some time alone.
After a mini-breakdown, and cleaning up your messed up mascara, you made your way to your desk. Calm and collected. That’s all you had to be. Calm and collected.
Serial killers and other criminals had quieted down for the week, in an unlikely turn of events. You’d only had to travel for one day, quickly solving a kidnapping case and the finding the perpetrator. The week flew by swimmingly. Nothing odd had happened.
Until you opened your door Saturday morning.
You hadn’t ordered anything, that much you were sure of. Even if you did, you tended to shop at places with bright packaging that made you feel like you were opening a gift when it was delivered. This unsuspecting, plain box was not here on your accord, yet it had your name and address on it.
The FBI agent side of you flipped into protection mode, racing to grab your phone and dial up the one person you knew that could tell you what to do if there happened to be a bomb inside of the box. Derek Morgan. “Pretty girl, why are you facetiming me at 8:27am on a Saturday?” He teased with a smile on his face. No matter what time it was, Derek was ready to listen.
“I got this box and I don’t know what it is. I just want someone to be around when I open it.” You informed him, sitting down next to the box. You should probably be standing, just in case you had to make a run for it but you were too worried about getting it open to think that far ahead.
“Alright,” He said, urging you to open it. You nodded to him, setting up the phone so he could you see and the box in the frame. You carefully tore off the tape, and let out a sigh of relief when nothing happened when it moved. You lifted the flaps slowly, taking a loud gasp when you saw it was. You hoped Derek didn’t see, and moved quickly to pick up your phone to hang up before he could.
“It’s not a bomb! I’m good, thanks Derek!” You rushed, hanging up before he could say anything. Your eyes didn’t leave the box as you let your arms fall to your sides. Sitting inside of it was a small, pink rose toy. A vibrator. That you definitely didn’t order.
You grabbed the box, hoping none of your neighbors saw it. It’s not that masturbation was wrong or immoral or that you didn’t partake, it was just weird if the people around you were aware of your toys.
So, you made sure your door was tightly closed before putting the box on the table and digging through it. There was all the normal things, the vibrator itself, large bubble wrap, and a paper receipt with the name of the product: Intimately GG Rose Suction Simulator from Pink Cherry.
However, there was another piece of paper at the bottom of the box. It was a typed note that read, “I hope this helps us go back to normal. A.H”. You knew exactly one person with the initials A.H. so it wasn’t rocket science to figure out who had ordered you this sex toy.
You weren’t sure if you were more turned on or embarrassed.
Aaron was your boss. Your kind, protective, strong, hot, sexy, boss. But still your boss. You wondered if this is something he would’ve done for someone like Emily or Penelope if they’d been in your predicament. It clicked quickly that it definitely wasn’t, and that made you special in Aaron Hotchner’s eyes.
So, you made a mental note to give him a call, after you tried out your toy. Luckily, you had your cleaning solution and an old bottle of lube from your past encounters. You made quick work of getting the toy clean and finding a video to help you get yourself off.
Of course, the man in the video was a white man who was bit older, with broad shoulders and black hair. No coincidence there.
You started with your boobs, taking time to massage each one before pulling on and pinching them to get yourself warmed up. Between the sounds coming from the video and the excitement of finally having time to yourself, your hands didn’t take long to move downwards, tracing along the length of your body. One hand continued caressing your side as the other made its way to your core.
The thought of Aaron going out of his way to help you get off and the visual of a man who looked similar to him getting his dick sucked had you borderline dripping on your bedsheets as you used your hand to start toying with your clit. You started with small circles, matching the speed of the girl sucking Aaron’s lookalike’s dick.
You stayed like this for a while, allowing yourself to go slow, really take your time pleasuring yourself. The guy in the video had already finished on the girl’s tits by the time you reached for your rose toy. You didn’t need the visual anymore, perfectly crafting dirty scenarios of your unit chief in your head.
You started on low. There was gentle sucking on your clit as you imagined the way Aaron would kiss. He’s experienced, you know that for sure. You could imagine the way he’d start gentle, maybe even cupping your face as he pulled you close. He’d let you feel like you were in charge, before his tongue made its way inside your mouth. His dominant side would take over, using his body to press you against whatever surface you were sat on.
As you fantasized about his dominant side, you cranked up the toy to the next level. You let out a loud moan at the new feeling. Your free hand moved back to your breast, squeezing, while you did your best to imagine Aaron’s large hands doing it instead.
You could feel the coil in your tummy getting tighter and tighter as you imagined Aaron slowly stripping your body, dragging his hand along each and every curve. With a sharp pinch to your nipple and a cry of Aaron’s name, you came undone all over your rose toy.
You could feel your slick dripping down your hand as you worked yourself through your orgasm, making sure to enjoy it for as long as you could. You wished you could savor this feeling. It was the strongest, best orgasm you’d ever had. Nothing could compare to the euphoria you felt right now.
You flicked the toy off and sat it to the side once the feeling became too much. You couldn’t bring yourself to move from your position. “Fuck,” you breathed out, trying to relax the hard rise and fall of your chest.
Once you were able to relax, you made your way to the shower. You knew you had to call Aaron, but you needed to be much more relaxed than you were right now to have that conversation. The sting from the hot water helped ground you, allowing you to clear your mind. After you cleaned yourself, you cleaned the toy and put everything in your nightstand drawer for future use.
Then, you reached for your cellphone. You quickly found Aaron’s personal number and hit the call button before you could overthink what you were doing. He picked up on the second ring. “Hotchner,” he said, probably out of habit. “Hello, Aaron,” you smiled. This is the conversation you’d had with him in a while that didn’t make you feel nervous. “Hello,” he echoed with your name. You didn’t know, but he was smirking on the other side of the phone. He’d been waiting for this call.
“You sent me a gift?” You asked. “I did. Have you received it?” He wasn’t sure what grew more, his smirk or his cock. “I have. I’ve opened it and took it for a test run as well.” The way you two were beating around the bush was a turn on, but the way he sounded so self-assured, as if he knew what you were going to say, had you clenching your thighs together.
“How did it perform?” Aaron questioned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table in front of him. This tightened the dress pants he was wearing against his hardened cock. “Very well,” You smiled. “I’m happy to hear that. I hope this is the end of all of your weird behavior.” Aaron chuckles. Just the sound of his laugh has you reaching your hand to squeeze the fat of your thighs.
“What weird behavior, Aaron?” You questioned, teasingly. This conversation is very different than any you’d had before, and it was turning you. You didn’t think it was possible with the strong orgasm you’d maybe an hour ago. But, Aaron was a special individual. He had that effect on you.
“You were avoiding me,” He scoffed. “I don’t know if I was. I think it was self-control,” You smiled, knowing you were baiting him. Without missing a beat, he took the bait, “And why did you need to practice self-control?”
Aaron leaned back in his chair, opting to press his hand against his cock instead of using the soft fabric to provide some kind of friction. He needed more, that much he knew.
“Because I was trying not to jump your bones, Aaron.” You breathed out. Your words had him squeezing his bulge, feeling like he could bust just from knowing you were attracted to him. “Fuck,” Aaron groaned into the phone. You giggled at his reaction, moving to press your hand against your core, again.
“Tell me about your toy,” He demanded, finally using the authoritarian tone that helped you get into this situation in the first time. “So you can touch yourself while I do?” You questioned, assuming he was in the same position as you. “Is that okay?” He questioned. “Of course it is, Aaron.” You promised, and used your permission as an excuse to unbutton his pants, and shove his hand under the waistband of his boxers.
As you started talking, he spread the precum, that’s been oozing from his pretty pink tip since he saw your contact name, along the length of his dick. “It was so good, Aaron. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”
“Yeah?” Aaron encouraged you to keep going as he started stroking his cock. “Yeah,” You whined out, “I wish you could’ve seen me. My legs were shaking and I was leaking so much.” You smirked as you heard him groan in to the phone. His strokes had quickened in length. All he could picture was you spread out on his bed, cumming around his cock.
“What did you think about while you came?” You were surprised he was able to get the question out, especially because he only stuttered once. You wished you could see the way he squeezed his eyes together as he tugged on his cock. “You, obviously. I was thinking about your lips and your hands. I finished before I could get to the good part. I wanted to picture you fucking me from behind, pressing my face into the mattress.”
You were going to continue describing your fantasy to him, but he cut you off with a “Fuck!” as he came down his hands.
The line was silent for a few minutes before you spoke, “Hey, Aaron?” He hummed out a “yeah?”, before you asked, “Do you want to come over?”
“Give me ten minutes,” He promised, “and have the toy out.”
Well, you couldn’t refuse that.
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iamasimperyk · 3 months
Text
Professor's Pet
Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Taboo topic, English is not my first language
Summary: You have a crush on your professor
Pairing: Professor!Rafe x Student!Reader
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You knew it was wrong, however, you couldn't help but fall for your professor.
Rafe Cameron. The hot professor every girl on campus had a crush on. You promised yourself you would not be one of those girls, save to say you failed miserably.
Another thing you promised yourself was to never fall for a married man. Fuck. He even had a child.
All the time you reminded yourself that it was nothing but a silly little crush. He had a family, and you were barely twenty.
Still, every lecture got harder and harder for you. He just looked so fine and the way he had with words—it was just too much for you.
"Alright, students, see you next Monday." Rafe smiled, finishing his lesson.
People slowly started leaving, leaving, and you took a big breath before you approached your professor.
"Mr. Cameron? Could I talk to you for a minute?" You asked, feeling how your knees had already gotten weaker.
His smile fell a little, but he nodded regardless, "Of course, Ms. Y/l/n."
"The essay from a week ago, I think you made a mistake with my mark." You said in the friendliest way possible.
"No, I don't think so. The grammar of your essay was rather weak, and I didn't really appreciate the way you chose to write about the topic. The task was to write nothing but information and nothing about your personal opinion." He told you, packing his stuff in the meantime.
"All my other professors never had something against my grammar or my use of words?" You said in confusion.
"Well, Ms. Y/l/n, I suggest you focus on your writing. I am not quite interested in hearing your little excuses." He said with a strict voice before he walked out of the room
You stood there stunned. He never had something against your writing, and he never acted so annoyed and cold toward his students.
Tears swelled up in your eyes, and you quickly left the room, wanting nothing more than to cry in your bed.
You felt like shit. Rafe Cameron couldn't know about the crush you had on him since you never told anyone, and you also tried your best not to make it too obvious—not like the other girls. Maybe he had just a bad day, or maybe, he was really not fond of your essay.
------
A few weeks later, nothing had changed. You saw how friendly your professor acted toward other students, but when you tried to ask a question, he just acted differently. Fuck, he even ignored you every time you raised your hand in one of his lectures.
At this point, you should have accepted the fact that he hated you. But you couldn't.
You stood in front of his office and knocked on the black wooden door.
After a few seconds, it opened, " Oh, you must be one of my husband's students."
There she was, Rafe Cameron's wife. She was beautiful, and she seemed to be nice.
"Y-yeah, I just wanted to ask something about the lecture today, but I will just send him an e-mail." You mumbled with a small smile before you turned around to leave.
After you heard how the door closed, there was screaming.
------
The next day, after everybody left the room, Rafe Cameron asked to talk to you for a moment.
"Ms. Y/l/n, I am sure you had a good reason for coming to my office yesterday, but I would appreciate it if you don't bother me in my free time." He said in a cold tone.
You couldn't take it anymore. It was not a crime to ask a professor a question outside of lectures.
"Mr. Cameron, I tried my best not to say anything, but I can't take it anymore. I was polite to you and handed in every assignment you gave. And you? You gave me bad marks, and everything I do is bad in your opinion," You raised your voice, but he just stared at you coldly.
"What have I done wrong? Just tell me so I can change-" You went on, before he interrupted you," You are the problem. Everything about you is the problem."
You looked at him confused, "What do you mean, Mr. Cameron?"
"Fuck, I mean look at you. The way you look, the way you dress, the way you swing your hips when you walk out of the room, the way you bite down your lip when you're thinking. I can't think about you this way. I am your professor, and you are my student." He told you, pacing around the room.
Your professor, who was also your secret crush, liked you. He liked you in the same way you liked him. But what now?
"I- I don't know what to say now." You muttered and looked away, biting down your lip.
Rafe looked at you, taking a big step forward, and put his hands on your cheeks, "Just one, please."
You looked at him innocently and gave him a small nod. That was all it took before he leaned down and pressed his lips against yours.
You kissed him back, your tongues dancing around in each other's mouths.
"Please," You let out a desperate moan, and Rafe quickly picked you up before he placed you on his desk.
He took one of his hands away from your butt and brought it down to lift the hem of your black skirt. Slipping it inside your panties and pushing a finger inside your tight, now wet folds.
One of his hands still squeezed your ass as you moaned into his mouth. He broke the kiss, his eyes staring into yours, full of lust, "Who would have thought that you are such a slut for your professor?"
He started to work a second finger inside your tight cunt. Your clit grinding against his palm.
"So desperate, my little whore." He picked up the pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your aching pussy.
All you could do was moan and whimper. You were about to cum before you felt him retract his fingers.
You let out a sound of disappointment, which he returned with one of his famous smirks. He unbuckled his belt and pulled out his cock. He rubbed it against your dripping wet slit before he buried it inside your little cunt.
"Mr. Cameron," You let out a moan that was muffled by another hard kiss.
He started to thrust his hips. Your little pussy clamping around his hard thick cock as he fucked you on his desk.
You wrapped your legs around his waist as your bodies rocked together.
"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, and all you could do was cry out a small 'Yes, sir'.
He kissed you hungrily, and you could feel yourself nearly at the edge. "Cum with me. Show me what a little slut like you looks like when she cums hard all over her professor's cock." He moaned into your mouth.
You threw your head back as your pussy spasmed. Your hips bucked against him as his orgasm washed over him as well, riding out your orgasms together.
He looked into your eyes again, "You did so good for me, princess. Come on, let's clean you up."
430 notes · View notes
machiavellli · 5 months
Text
Some Lorenzo Berkshire headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
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Notes: after a month I made them. I am truly sorry, I am the ceo of procrastination. But I had so much fun writing those though, because Lorenzo is my silly lovely boy, I wanna hug him so bad, he too precious. And this song, reminds me of him so bad, like every time I listen to it, my mind immediately jumps to him.
Honestly I got a bit carried away, I wanted to cover maybe other parts, like how he is as a boyfriend, but well-. You read it and of course you can tell me what you think after :)
Pairing: Lorenzo Berkshire x reader
Infos: pretty much just fluff, possible dramatic scene, no use of y/n, Lorenzo being cute, mutual pinning, English is not my first language (please if you find any mistake report them to me!).
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Lorenzo Berkshire, the most precious slytherin boy:
You two first met when you were just children because of your families
And I don’t know about you, but I used to despise boys so much when I was little, until I was seven (or perhaps even eight), so I kinda imagine your first meeting to be not that charming.
Like little Enzo panicking because he can’t understand what he did wrong, why this little girl is making such a disgusted face for him
But as you two grow more comfortable around each other, he becomes your best boy friend.
You two have many chances to see each other during your childhood and you always tried to make the best out of each encounter.
The type of kids that would cry when they have to separate after playing all day together.
And also the type of children that would definitely try to pull a prank on little Draco, just for them to get chased down by Lucius Malfoy himself after and cry frightened.
But something inside you two changes when you both are forced into your first ballroom dancing class (I headcanon that all the high-ranking families in the magical society enjoy hosting elegant dinners and balls, so follow me on this)
The proximity between you two, the touch of her hand, totally make little Enzo go all flushed.
Therefore, that soft innocent crush in the heart of the two children starts to blossom.
You drew hearts next to his name in your diary, imprisoning your feelings at the edge of a paper too scared to burn at the sight of the light, too scared to show this growing affection.
Little Enzo would sometimes pick a flower from his garden, trying to build some courage in himself for giving it to you. But that never happens.
When you get to Hogwarts he is your rock.
Perhaps if you an introvert he is the one introducing you to people or literally bringing you inside a friend group.
Ever heard of the trope “extrovert adopts an introvert”? Like that I mean.
Anyway, the crush is still there, of course, but none of you dare to even consider talking about it. Because no one has the guts to risk losing their favorite person.
Lorenzo is very cheerful, a ray of sunshine, and as he grows more people start to notice. And that’s a problem.
You are jealous, terribly.
Seeing those girls approaching him, giggling like infants, even when you are right at his side, hurts you.
He always refuse them politely and you smile in you mind.
Lorenzo is such a gentleman and everybody knows it.
Always giving you his arm while walking, opening doors,
moving chairs,
asking “how did you sleep darling?” or “have you eaten today dear?”
hugging you every time you see each other,
Offering his jacket to you as soon as he notice that it is becoming a little cold
Listening you ramble for hours about your favorite subject or a book you just read, always with that delicious little smile painted on his face.
And if he finds you crying for whatever reason he will take you into his arms immediately.
Listening to you explain through your tears what happened, while one hand strokes your hair gently and the other your back.
Seeing you hurt has an effect on him, definitely will let a couple of tears slip while you can’t see him.
Lorenzo is an empath, he will understand you and he will comfort you.
Also I feel like his love language is debatable, but he will definitely like to touch you, to feel your presence concretely.
Even if you two are not together he will often try to pull out an arm around your shoulders, always respecting your decision to refuse it and your personal vital space though.
Perhaps, sometimes, as you are all focused making your pen run during your studies session, he will look at your hand, wishing to be able to linger over it without an explanation.
He is also jealous, of course, because no one knows how desperate he is for you, how he feels blinded by how beautiful you have grown.
He feels his eyes and heart burning when a guy at a party tries to hit on you.
The golden retriever energy is suddenly gone and Theo will pull out a worried look for his friend.
But you aren’t his, how stupid it is of him to ache himself for something he never had.
After another scene of this kind, Theo decides to ask him about this totally not subtle behavior of his. (You already know that I headcanon Enzo and Theo to be best buddies shhh)
It takes a while for him to confess, but either for the tipsy state or the exhaustion that this situation has brought to him, he confess.
After years, let’s say it happens in the 6th year, he finally tells someone, felling already a bit lighter.
Theo looks at him, trying to not laugh, but miserably fails: “mate do you need glasses?”
And then he explains to him that anyone can see that something is going on between the two.
That you look at him like he is the sun lighting your existence and so does he with you.
Perhaps it is time to act now, to not fear, to be brave.
He won’t ask you directly though, I see him more prone to writing down a letter to you
Pouring on paper his feelings, how exceptionally well you make him feel, in conclusion, his love for you.
The angel sent from above that you are in his eyes, that he always had and always will e have at his side if he seals with ink his emotions.
Perhaps it could look something like this:
My Dearest,
In the quiet corners of my soul, I've carried a secret for what feels like an eternity, my heart dances to the rhythm of your name. Amidst youthful dreams and uncertain tomorrows, your laughter echoes in my thoughts, painting vivid hues in the canvas of my days. With each passing day, your radiance grows, illuminating the path of my existence. Today, in this moment of bravery, perhaps taken by a Gryffindor spirit, I dare to confess what has long lingered unspoken: I adore you beyond measure.
Yours sincerely,
Lorenzo
And do we want the realization dramatic? Of course, is that even a question?
You recive his letter in a moment of privacy, perhaps in a quiet corner of the library while you are studying.
A first year approach you and quickly says “It is from Lorenzo Berkshire, he wants to know what you think then” before running away.
You look at the letter puzzled, looking at the delicate handwriting in which your initials are written on the outside.
You open the letter and everything just stops.
Only your eyes move, running desperately over and over again on the words overflowed by pure love.
How is it that you never noticed?
How is it that someone can love you so deeply?
The clock has continued its tireless dance for too long and you finally had enough.
There it won’t be peace until you found him.
An exceptional energy, filled with excitement, happiness and love, takes over you.
You suddenly snap, lifting yourself up from your cozy spot, leaving everything behind, because your real everything is in front of you.
The sound of your shoes, tirelessly beating against the hard floor as you run, is all you can hear.
People send concerned look in your way as you brush not so cordially their shoulder, trying to make your way to your lover.
The halls are full, the rain is once again pouring outside, you don’t even know where you are going, simply drove by the now fully ignited sentiment.
Lorenzo is repaired outside in the viaduct courtyard, waiting for his friends to be done with their smoking when he sees you.
You, bravely exiting the library annex, making your way to the viaduct bridge, looking left and right, looking for him.
Without a word to the others he starts running in your direction, the rain quickly wetting him entirely.
You are now both running, from opposite side of the bridge, people gathering around looking as the scene consume before them.
It is cold,
It is wet,
The nature is gray under the fog.
But two hearts beat ferociously, desperately trying to approach the other.
Your drenched hair flows with your movement, hands in a fist, your vision lightly blurred.
And in the middle of the bridge he catches you.
An hug full of every word neglect for so long.
He spins you around for has many years he had to wait for this, before he lets you go, moving his hands to cup your face gently as the rain harshly pours on you.
Eyes so desperate to crawl into the other’s spirit.
“I sense my letter has reached you” he will say smiling like an idiot drunk on love
You giggle, like the kids you used to be.
Because you have known each other for a lifetime, but only now he has found you.
“My dear, I love you” he will say before kissing you, warming your body, lighting your existence.
Everything faded then, from the cheers of the other students looking at the theatrical scene, to the screams of the various professor trying to pull you inside.
Your heart finally funded his.
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I hope you liked them🫶✨
my ask box is open btw!
479 notes · View notes
dark-fics-4-you · 5 months
Note
possible rafe request?! rafes gf makes him mad by being too friendly at an event w wards business partners so he fucks her at the event 😈
Golden Boy
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Warnings: domestic violence, noncon, toxic relationship, jealousy,
You chuckled politely, trying not to glare at the thirty-something year old man in front of you. Despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but put a little venom in your reply, “Well, I actually do have plans outside of my boyfriend. I’m going to college right now, and I’m actually in a paid internship that I got before Rafe and I met.”
The somewhat handsome, but definitely too old to be your type, business partner, whose name you had already forgotten, gave you an annoyed look, not expecting you to respond that way to his poorly hidden dig at you not belonging at this event.
It was true, in some ways. You were far from your side of the island, and no matter how much time you put into your make up and hair or the price tags of the many expensive clothes Rafe had bought you, the Kooks could always sniff out the people who grew up with nothing.
Before he could respond though, you heard your name being called from behind. Peering past the man in front of you, you could see your boyfriend waving at you to come over to him.
You didn’t even bother telling the asshole in front of you that you were exiting the conversation, you just did, quickly returning to Rafe’s side.
“Ugh perfect timing, that guy I was just talking to was a total jerk,” you whispered in his ear as you gave him a hug.
“Baby, didn’t I tell you to try to get along with these guys?” He seemed angry and you could tell that this event was already stressing him out a lot. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides and everything about him was somewhat jittery, like he wasn’t in his right mind.
“I mean, you know I need to look good in front of them while my Dad’s watching. It means a lot to him.” You looked into his eyes at his words and noticed two things. One, Rafe said it meant a lot to his dad, but you knew it was more about how how much it meant to him. And two, his pupils were much wider than they should have been.
Rafe had obviously done some coke before tonight, trying to calm his nerves and give him some confidence, but it was only doing the opposite.
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to make you look bad, but I don’t think it’s fair that I can’t defend myself in front of the people here who are looking down on me.” You shot back at him, annoyed for more reasons than one. “I’m being polite to them, but it would probably be easier for me if you were by my side to stop them from being so rude to me.”
You lowered your voice before speaking again, “And also… I don’t think you should be doing so much coke right now.”
Rafe’s burning glare alone was enough to make you regret saying anything, the return of his tight grip on your arm was just a sick formality at this point, reminding you of the previous bruise he had left in that same spot that you had to cover with makeup for this event.
After being with your boyfriend for so long, you knew the lengths he would go to when he felt personally wronged.
You learned very early on that Rafe was never one to hold back on his verbal abuse, and his physical abuse was no different, although he always tried to keep both incredibly private due to the damage that could come to the Cameron name if it ever came out that Ward’s son, the golden boy, was hitting his girlfriend.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, Rafe. I just care for you, that’s all. I promise I’ll be polite to your dad’s friends.” Your meager apology seemed to be good enough for the moment, and your boyfriend gave you a silent nod after staring at you for several unnerving seconds.
“Be polite, don’t share your opinion, and just keep your mouth shut for the most part. Let them talk about themselves, and they’ll probably think it was the best conversation they’ve had all day.” Rafe grumbled, but his mood improved when he tilted your head up, pressing his lips to yours, large hand still resting under your chin. You kissed him back for what you thought was an appropriate amount of time, but when you tried to pull away, he held you in place, tightly wrapping an arm around your waist and forcing you to kiss him back.
By the time he released you, you pulled away to see several people staring at the two of you, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.
Rafe was always doing things like that in public when he felt like other men were threatening your relationship, he always needed to prove himself and stake his claim on you. Let everyone there know that you belonged to him.
“Remember what I said sweetheart. Just try to act like you belong here.” He smirked at his obvious jab at the very thing you felt the most self conscious about right now, before he calmly turned heel, approaching another group of stuffy, rich assholes across the large room.
Your huff of frustration must have been loud enough to be heard by someone standing near you, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
To your surprise, when you turned around you were greeted by a man who looked to be about your age.
“You’re Y/N, right?” He held out his hand, which you grabbed, giving him a firm handshake, just like Rafe had taught you.
“Yes I am, although I’m not quite sure if we have met before?” You lightheartedly responded.
“Ah, my apologies, you haven’t, I’m James, I work with your boyfriend at Cameron Development. He’s honestly a blast,” the man, James apparently, chuckled as he recalled several stories of work assignments with Rafe. This led to the two of you exchanging several funny work and college tales.
Despite never having met James before, you felt an instant chemistry with him, nothing romantic at all, of course, but you found him very easy to talk to, and to your surprise, after glancing at your watch, you realized that the two of you had been chatting for nearly 25 minutes!
At this realization, your blood instantly ran cold. Where was Rafe? Why hadn’t he checked on you? Had he seen you talking to the same guy for nearly half an hour, clearly enjoying yourself the entire conversation?
As if he could tell that you were thinking of him, Rafe suddenly appeared several yards away from where your conversation with James was taking place. There was a scowl on his face, and you could tell by the way he was advancing on you that he was pissed.
“Hey, Y/N, why don’t I give you my number, just so you have it?” James innocently asked, completely unaware of the anxiety coursing through your veins and the fact that your boyfriend was in earshot, pushing through the small crowd behind him to reach you.
Before you could even open your mouth to politely decline, Rafe was speaking for you, “She’s not interested.”
You didn’t have time to say goodbye, because your boyfriend was dragging you away from your new friend, his grip harshly digging in to your bruised arm.
“What the fuck did I tell you, Y/N?” His voice was even and calculated, but he couldn’t hide the rage simmering beneath the surface.
“You told me to-”
“I told you to get along with them, not to try to get into their pants.” Rafe growled, pushing you into the closest room with a door he could find, which happened to be Ward’s office. You landed on the carpeted floor, wincing in pain when your elbow absorbed most of the fall.
“Rafe, I promise, I was just having a good conversation.” Your voice was beginning to waver, the weight of the situation that you had found yourself in was beginning to sink in. “He’s your coworker, is it so wrong that I talked to him?”
“Stop lying! I know what I saw! You would have to be an idiot to not realize that he’s trying to fuck you too.” You would have been worried that someone could hear your boyfriend berating you, had it not been for the music playing throughout the house, and the thick walls of Ward’s study.
You realized how sad it was that you only knew that because Rafe had now loudly hurled insults at you in every room in the house he could at this point.
The blond stalked towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you upright. “I mean, did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice? You think that little of me, Y/N?”
“Rafe no, I-”
You felt the air in your lungs disappear as your head snapped to the side, a sharp pain in your cheek blossoming across the now reddened skin.
“You don’t get to talk back to me right now!” Your boyfriend yelled in your face. You had barely processed his slap when you felt him moving you again, although now you felt much more numb.
Numb to Rafe roughly manhandling you before he bent you over his father’s desk, numb to the feeling of the cold, hard wood on your face as Rafe held you down, numb to the feeling of him pushing your fancy dress up and rudely yanking down your panties before harshly pushing two fingers inside you, and numb to the tears that were now spilling onto Ward’s desk.
“Such a fucking slut! You’re soaked,” he darkly chuckled, but there was no hint of humor in his voice. “Is this all for me, or is it for James?” He bitterly wondered aloud, and when you didn’t give him a response fast enough, you cried out at the feeling of him smacking your ass.
“F-for you, Rafe,” you choked out through your tears.
You could hear him removing his belt, the sound of it hitting the floor was enough to trigger your body to begin quaking with fear and anxiety.
“Aw baby,” he cooed, and you flinched when you felt his fingers in your hair, lightly brushing some of it out of your eyes so he could look at you. “Don’t act so scared. I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Well, at least, not until after the party’s over.”
His laughter made you feel sick, but even worse was the shock you felt when Rafe spread your pussy and sheathed himself inside of you without warning.
You saw stars for a few moments, the surprise catching you off guard and he was able to slide deeper into your tight walls.
“Rafe!” You gasped, unable to fight back, as your arms were pinned beneath you, and your boyfriend’s large chest prevented you from moving.
His fingers tangled into your hair, gripping a handful tightly as he pushed your face into the desk. His hips were snapping against your ass, fucking you harder whenever you futilely tried to break from his hold.
Every time you tried to escape mentally, to tear yourself from the reality of what your boyfriend was doing to you, he brought you back, snapping his fingers or groaning your name into your ear as he forced himself deeper into your wet cunt.
You were sure that your hips would be bruised from bumping into Ward’s desk as Rafe fucked you against your will. Another reminder of all the lessons he insisted that he had to teach you by force.
Every sharp thrust was a warning that this was him holding back. This was him being nice. And you knew better than to further aggravate Rafe when he was on a power trip.
And that was exactly what this was all about. The power and privilege that Rafe held over you, that he used to hurt you time and time again, without ever facing any real consequences. This was about reminding you that you belonged to him and at the end of the day, Rafe Cameron was untouchable and unstoppable, the Kook King, the golden boy of one of the richest families in the Outer Banks.
“You are my girlfriend, Y/N,” Rafe growled. “It’s time you started fucking acting like it.”
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xiao-come-home · 10 months
Text
Genshin + HSR men as dads;
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✰ Characters:
↳ Genshin: Ayato, Itto, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Zhongli, Xiao.
↳ HSR: Blade, Jing Yuan, Luocha.
✰ Words: 3,5k.
✰ SFW ; afab!reader, because pregnancy mentions. fluff.
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Warnings: established relationship, the characters are reader's husbands, mentions of pregnancy, babies, ayato always ends up kinda horknee????? slight spoilers about blades past, not beta read THERES NO TIME FOR THAT
A/N: this is my first time writing for hsr and kaveh, but I tried my best </3 also I have work in 2h and I haven't slept yet. this is more important. pog also give me feedback if you like hsr pieces ;q;
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Ayato Kamisato:
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he's such a girl AND boy dad you can't convince me otherwise. i just can't get that out of my head: imagine just chilling with your husband, you two enjoying some tea or coffee, while watching your children happily yell and play outside; ayato plays with your palm slightly, switching between rubbing it with his fingers and interlocking it, giving you occasional glances and tiny smiles.
ayato's definitely a strict parent, but wants his children to feel freedom - he does not force them to practice something they don't like, but teaches them necessary stuff they need to know if they are to be the future of the Kamisato clan.
he DEFINITELY had a boy first. and his son DEFINITELY looks like a perfect mixture of you two - he has ayato's eyes and hair type, but your hair color and smile.
your daughter, on the other hand, is exactly like ayato's copy, except with your personality - and he's extremely whipped for her. his little girl wanted to practice a new hairstyle with multiple pink hair clips? oh well, looks like he goes like this to his important meeting.
though, your son is just as mischievous as his father, if not worse - has probably trolled Itto more than once by the shy age of just three. he's also definitely interested in ayato and ayaka's battle styles, like hello??? HOW DO YOU JUST DISAPPEAR LIKE THAT??? AND TURN INTO SNOW??????
even though some fights between his children happen, as it's a thing you can't avoid - the big brother is very protective of his little sister and would do anything to make her happy! even if it means princess tea time. it reminds ayato of his, though not as fortunate, childhood memories with ayaka before she grew up to be the strongest woman and best auntie we know.
ayato probably teases you about wanting a third one, so they look like you this time. "say, darling, how about we get another little one?" feeling his smile, ayato whispers into your ear, "think about it, love," he wraps his arms around your waist from behind, "you just look so perfect I can't resist you."
Arataki Itto:
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i do nOT care, his child is just as hyper as him. they're his absolute best buddy, partners in crime, you name it. but there's a plot twist - thank god your child thinks more often than their father AND stops him sometimes.
listen. absolute boy dad. his son is his pride and joy,he bragged so much about his boy to the point that Raiden Shogun herself heard about him.
so, remember itto being severely allergic to beans as an oni? his son absolutely loves beans and could eat them with no side effects. but itto being itto, prepares him meals with beans and takes it as a challenge. he just might cry, or throw up at worst. but hey, everything for his little sunshine.
^^your son absolutely cheers when he's making him dinner and suffering like?? "go dad! you're so awesome!" "yummy!" and itto's screaming back with tears dripping down his cheeks, "yes, YES!! THE BEST COOK OF INAZUMA, ARATAKI ITTO!"
itto prides himself in creating the most perfect small person to ever exist. your son inherited itto's golden heart and your brains (thank god). he's truly a ball of sunshine, and possibly the happiest and polite boy in Inazuma. with a pair of red horns just like his dad, red streaks in his hair and markings, itto's pupils and your eye color.
hear me out: total best pals with ayato's son. they love playing board games and battle onikabuto with each other, and much to itto's delight, his son is usually the winner, but the boys always politely thank each other for the game and move on.
your son is actually such a smooth talker to ayato's daughter to the point that he considers giving them a blessing and suffering being in-laws with itto.
he's also (great)grandma oni's favorite child now... he loves baking, cooking and sewing with her, and showing her his favorite onikabuto that you and itto let him keep as a pet!
itto's actually VERY down to have a few more kiddos if your pregnancy went well. he'd love a little girl to spoil his long hair, or maybe two. and two more sons so he wouldn't be lonely..
that time itto caught ushi sound asleep with his ball of sunshine next to him was the day he'll never forget. with tears in his eyes, he covered them in a warm blanket and let them snooze for a little more before bedtime.
Alhaitham:
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literally no one, not even one soul knew that alhaitham has a child until they saw him walking a three-year-old. and the said child is probably the most behaved child that has ever been born.
seriously, your son is probably the smartest child ever. alhaitham, despite some worries, did and still does very well as a father - he began teaching him to talk earlier, he also seemed to have taken a liking to some instruments when he got older. the scribe's little one also enjoys it when his dad reads with him! be it alhaitham's books or fantasy ones, they have a special routine just for reading.
your son absolutely looks up to his father. when he sees him drafting some documents, his eyes shine with curiosity and adoration. alhaitham, can't help but smile slightly when he isn't looking.
nahida promoted alhaitham as the Acting Grand Sage. he promoted her as his babysitter.
^^but in a more serious tone, I genuinely think Nahida would be somewhat interested in your child - not in a negative light in any way, but.. it does make her wonder how a small child could be so smart. though his son has a long way to go and grow up, each year he manages to surprise her.
when his son is too bothered by the attention of other people, alhaitham gives him his noise-canceling headphones; they're a bit too big on him, but he appreciates it anyway.
alhaitham makes sure your son remembers his late grandmother, despite having not met her. even if the scribe does not consider himself a very emotional person, he wants the memory of her to live on.
he encourages his child to make his own decisions, too - just like he had that choice as well; if his son wants to break the ice and become more outgoing - alhaitham will not stand in his way. he wants him to grow up as the person he truly wants to be.
he definitely explained some god-tier science to his toddler son while holding him in his arms, receiving only some confusing "blah blag bwwwug" in return, watching him bite his tiny hand in happiness. he continued.
if there's something that alhaitham shares with his son, it's his love for naps. sometimes you all sleep together, and when it's time to wake up - both of them whine and your son snuggles up to his dad, to which your husband responds by getting his arm over the little one and giving you a small chuckle with one eye open, shortly before falling back asleep.
kaveh is your child's godfather. no, it wasn't his choice.
after a bit of hesitation and a lot of thoughts, he wouldn't mind to have another one; genders don't matter to him by any means, but I see him with yet another son :)
Kaveh:
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kaveh and his twins could rival itto and his son's enthusiasm - it's what kaveh wants his kids to always remember - he wants them to enjoy every single bit of life, even if it's something simple.
the famous architect has decided to work hard to provide for you and the baby when you told him about the pregnancy- or, rather, about his future children; some of his work truly shone and got him quite a bit of attention, and therefore - a bunch of well-paid commissions.
kaveh has fought his empathy many times and tried not to overly spend money, which resulted in him being able to create and build your house that you share together; each of the twins has their own room, decorated according to their tastes.
your children have great emotional intelligence, just like your husband; if there's ever any conflict, they rather talk about it, than pout for hours, similar with you two. kaveh teaches them to always be honest, especially to themselves. they're also talented, but in different ways - your daughter seems to be fascinated by the role of the architect as well, but your son, regardless of what he's doing - he always makes sure it's perfect and polished as much as possible.
you cannot tell me this man doesn't do some kind of weekly family time - kaveh loves his family to the bone and would risk his life to protect you and your children with no hesitation. he's very involved in his children's lives and wants to be considered as their friend as well, not just a father; kaveh wants to know what they are interested in the moment, who they had their last beef with and who their crush is. he just really wants to gossip with them lol.
contrary to what a lot of people think, the twins and alhaitham's child(ren?) get along very well, and are aware they're just mirrors of each other. they can't however, understand how they managed to live together under one roof for so long... they never complain if they visit uncle alhaitham though, as he lets them search through his library so they can find out more about their interests.
in revenge, alhaitham is the godfather of the twins, just so you know.
Zhongli:
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not only did he fall in love with you, but after hearing the cry of his little girl after she took her first-ever breath - zhongli fell in love once again.
he's so, so overprotective of his baby, regardless of her age. he's swooned by her - how tiny her fingers are compared to his when she finally grips them for the first time, how every month she looks even prettier than last one - he's always by her side, making sure she's the happiest she could possibly be.
since he has to sleep only once for a few days, he's willing to spend every second with her, especially after birth - zhongli also wants you to rest as much as you can, so you can both create memories together.
he most certainly takes her on a lot of walks with you when she gets older; not only around liyue harbor, but places dear to him and her only, if they discover one.
when your daughter grows up and begins to show interest in zhongli's hobbies, he smiles at her gently and sits her in his lap, only to start explaining it and feeding her curiosity; sometimes he has to stop himself for a moment to admire her twinkling eyes.
oh he DEFINITELY does her hair every morning. he's practiced on you before, having learned many new hairstyles to later on perform on your daughter; he carefully strokes her hazel hair with golden tips with a brush, feeling as he's almost watching his own in a mirror. sometimes, he adorns her hair with his own hairpin.
xiao was definitely the first person to know about your daughter. knowing that archon blood runs in her veins, he's less worried about being around her, therefore always more willing to spend time with her. both grow from this interaction - the little one knows how to protect herself (or to call uncle xiao when she's in trouble), and xiao understands small humans just a bit better.
zhongli's thrilled to know what her favorites are - no matter if it's tea, food or fabric, he has to know! perhaps they share the same favorites?
with the help of kamera, he's now able to immortalize the sight of you and your daughter. each birthday, he takes a picture and cherishes the young years of your baby, knowing they won't last long; erosion be damned, as long as he has the pictures - he'll always remember.
Xiao:
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xiao was clueless. clueless and frightened. he wasn't supposed to have a child - with a mortal on top; albeit he tries to stay calm for your and baby's sake, he wants both of you to heal well.
it took quite a bit of time for xiao to fully embrace that he's a parent - and he adapted very well, having you by his side; the only worry that hasn't gone away is the thought of harming his daughter with his karmic debt.
but so far, the little one hasn't shown any signs of it, which makes xiao more than happy. she's yet another reason to warm his cold heart up, which he always compares to being engulfed by comfy scarf in the winter.
he automatically turns his head around whenever he hears her tiny little "tap taps" with her feet; not only does he find it adorable, but he knows she once again managed to lose her slippers and socks.
listen. she inherited the same diamond mark on her forehead - and he finally understands why you always insisted you liked kissing it for no reason.
he always. ALWAYS shares his almond tofu with his baby girl.. and she always makes a mess while eating it.. but it's worth it.
your daughter seemed to have taken a liking to watching finches from a distance; they always look for a nice spot in liyue plains, make a small picnic and feed the leftover bread to the birds. she finds them so adorable to the point that xiao was looking for a finch plushie for WEEKS. that made her good friends with qiqi, whom she tries to remember as "the finch friend."
Zhongli never says it out loud, but thinks of Xiao as his son. therefore, he finally earned a title of a grandpa (though unofficial). he's very proud to see Xiao stand up in a role of not only a protector of liyue, but the ones closest to him.
yes, your daughter actually calls morax himself, grandpa. (he doesn't correct her. ever)
imagine xiao with baby carrier. now you don't have to imagine it anymore.
。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°
Blade:
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don't even say he isn't a girl dad. HE IS.
he thinks he's a mere blade whose humanity has been lost hundreds of years ago - it's nothing more but a delusion in his mind. if that was the truth, why would he stay near his daughter's crib and watch her sleep peacefully, flinching when he saw her stir in her sleep?
she's absolutely not afraid of his cold, death stare, in fact - she looks at him back, waiting him to break first. just imagine a tiny baby eating a rice waffle, blade next to her and he just.. stares at her. but she stares at him back and eats the waffle like it's nothing.
your baby girl inherited blade's hair- or rather, yingxing's pearly white hair. he often pats her head gently and goes his hand through her hair, his eyes holding a tinge of bitterness and anger; not at her, however, but at the one he's after.
since blade spends most of his time on various missions with the stellaron hunters, he tries to make it up to your daughter by giving her gifts; hairpins, stickers (ekhem, silver wolf), coloring books, you name it. he slowly warms up to the idea of spending more quality time with her - after so many missions and the thought of his family waiting for him at home, his heart longs to see you again.
sometimes.. you can catch a faint smile on his lips when he plays with her. it's a sad smile - a smile yearning for it to happen back in simpler times, before getting reduced to a weapon, or perhaps in another lifetime.
he never admits it out loud, but he gets used to the new routine a bit too comfortably. before, when it was just you - in contrast to now, when he barely closes the front door and hears his daughter sprinting to him and clinging to his leg; he picks her up and feels her squishing her cheek against his while grinning. "welcome home, daddy!" are the first words he hears - and hopes to hear until it's his time to leave.
at times, blade becomes genuinely terrified - terrified of no longer craving death and wanting to stay. it sends him in so much emotional turmoil he starts to shake; how else do you process this? after so many years of attempting to look for that one thing that finally stops your breath, only to get swarmed by the thoughts of not wanting to leave your daughter behind? what if something happens to her and there's no one to help her?
there's a thing that I can't stop thinking about: I want to leave it up to you how you name your daughter, but I feel like blade would truly like the name Mari.
he lets her decorate him with stickers. it was silver wolf's idea.
Jing Yuan:
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he was blessed with a daughter, as well. and then again. and then... again.
he absolutely adores his three little girls, hellO?!?!? but if you think about it, it makes sense - almost all of them took after his personality.
there is a mandatory nap for him and his girls that no one can disturb, unless the planet is on fire or someone got you mad. they all snore quietly while cuddling their dad, one of them on his chest, second on his stomach, and last one has her face somewhere next to his hair. makes you wonder how they got in these places, considering they started sleeping beneath a pink blanket decorated with lions.
speaking of lions, mimi claims your daughters as her cubs and does not let jing yuan take them away. she loves being pet and getting small kisses from them, there's no way she gives him that amount of attention back.
jing yuan loves your daughters to death and spoils them with absolutely EVERYTHING. new plushie? will be here in a few hours. a damned rock that's stupidly expensive, holds no value but one of them liked it? he'll take five. hell, he might even buy them a dog or another lion and hope for easy consequences from you.
he's slightly scared of how fast his oldest got so good at chess.
the girls get very upset when someone mentions they have no older brother - after all, how could they forget about yanqing?
there is a high chance of him losing one of them at home. they're walking, he turns around and.. suddenly the math doesn't add up..
if it's princess tea time, it is princess tea time. fu xuan either becomes a princess or comes back later.
even though they sometimes bring a lot of trouble, jing yuan always tells them to appreciate you - when it's mother's day, they all sit down and prepare a gift for you, same for your birthday; your special days will never go unnoticed.
probably wouldn't mind having another child, but is fully prepared for another girl lol.
Luocha:
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he fathered a beautiful boy and girl a few years after. none of them were planned, but very welcome by both of you.
he's.. such a doting father. he always takes care of his children well, shows them affection - especially as small babies, he can't get over their chubby cheeks and peppers them with kisses, so he could hear them giggle.
in general, I think he just. can't get enough of them when they're toddlers or even younger. he loves holding them. he loves seeing his tiny babies get curious when he prepares medicine. he loves when they extend their hand to him for seemingly no reason, so he has an opportunity to give it a kiss. ARGH
he's thrilled to share his medical knowledge with his kids, if one shows interest in it!
luocha's definitely the one to style his babies' hair, I mean have you seen this man's gorgeous locks???? he's also the one to cut it if they don't like it long.
this isn't really about the children themselves, but.. he's just so grateful that you brought them into this world?? and he makes sure you know it every day, be it through actions or words. when you gave birth to your daughter, he held her in her hands and approached you from behind, leaning down and planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. "love, she's so wonderful, thank you for your hard work. I can't stop looking at her, and I wouldn't have that opportunity if I didn't meet you. I've never been more happy to meet such a person like you."
just like kaveh, he wants to be very involved in their lives. he always asks them about their day in school, if they made any friends. luocha also tries to be stern and has only one expectation as a father - he wants them to have a good, comfortable life, in which he'll assist in achieving as long as they need.
your son is very, very talkative with his dad and they could converse for hours. like for real. he's so smart, luocha is more than happy to broad his horizons, even in topics of lesser importance.
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zeldasnotes · 8 months
Note
What in synastry can make someone like another person but the other person doesnt like them back? Both friends and love relationship
POSSIBILITIES OF ONESIDED DISLIKE IN SYNASTRY💣
I will answer based on MY own observations so having this with someone does not guarantee dislike. I have some of these aspects with people I like a lot.
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Mars conjunct Moon: One of them could be very easily irritated by the other for no good reason. Ive seen both situations where Mars was just super annoyed by Moons presence for seriously no reason and Ive seen the other way around too.
Venus Square Ascendant: Something with the Ascendant persons behaviour might just bother the Venus person. For example a Libra Venus might be annoyed by the moodiness and sensitivity of a Cancer Rising since they prefer a more discreet and easy going persona whos always polite. A Capricorn Venus can find an Aries Rising way too straightforward and aggressive in public. Aries Venus people usually find me super boring and too stoic since im a Cap Rising. Venus might not HATE or even dislike Ascendant its just that Ascendant person is just not their cup of tea.
Mars Square Ascendant: Ascendant might not fit what Mars finds to be the sexual ideal and doesnt like how Ascendant handle conflicts and handle themselves in public.(other aspects can change this) A lot of angry tension here. I usually dont like men with their Ascendant Square my Mars because they dont act like i prefer my man to act. Ive had this with a man and his Venus was also Square my Ascendant so we both found eachothers personality so unattractive lol. Mars might find Ascendant to either be too aggressive or too passive depending on the signs. Can be very similar to Venus Square Ascendant but less about manners, style and behaviour and more about sexual ideal and assertiveness.
Chiron conjunct personal planets: One is very easily triggered by the other and the other person doesnt understand why. ”Why does my presence bother them so much?” One of them might feel like the other reminds them of a wound they dont like being reminded of. Ive noticed this especially with Moon. One of them just cant stop hurting the other. This one can be super healing but from what Ive seen most times its a strong dislike from one of them towards the other.
One sided synastry: Exemple: My planets and asteroids touch his Moon but nothing in his charts touches my moon, im just not as emotionally affected by him as he is by me no matter how hard we try (other placements can change this ofc). I actually was a victim of this myself lol. I was into a guy and we started seeing eachother but i could tell something was off. NONE of my planets or asteroids touched neither his Moon or his Venus, he was just never going to be THAT into me.
Synastry chart not matching the natal chart: For example yall have A LOT of 8th house synastry but only one of you have 8th house/pluto placements in your own natal chart. One of you hate this connection and just wants to avoid the other while the other loves it. Ive seen this happen with especially 8th house synastry. One is a plutonian and barely reacts to it and the other is so not used to Pluto energy and finds it super scary and starts disliking the person they have this synastry with.
Mars Square Pluto: Pluto feels like Mars is competing with them and tries to put Mars in their place. Mars doesnt understand why Pluto is so threathened and trying to compete all the time and just wants to be friends. But Pluto sees every move Mars makes as declaring war.
Mans Venus conjunct womans Mars: What Ive noticed here is especially between two hetero people when the mans Venus is conjunct the womans Mars there will be reverse genderroles. Some men can be very threathened when a womans Mars is on his Venus, she have qualities he looks up to and admires but too much and she might be ”more than him” for some reason so he dislikes her while she doesnt understand why bc she just finds him so cute. This can work if both are okey with it tho. Ive seen this in relationships where the woman is the provider and the man at home.
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