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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

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Stars all aligned - Chapter 6

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

I'll keep the warnings, even though there is no outright mention in this part: Bashing of like...every IC member? Especially the Archeron Sisters, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

It took Zahra a few minutes to realise she wasn't dreaming.

She could smell the scent of cedar and mist...so familiar, yet so new. It was so nice, so comforting, that she wanted to wrap herself up in it.

Slowly, her aching body and tired mind came back into focus, and she felt an arm wrapped around her, holding her against a broad, scarred chest.

Azriel .

Azriel was here. Holding her. She was cuddled up against his side, tucked into him with her head resting on his chest.

She could feel the thrum of his heart beating against her ear, steady and strong.

And she could also…she could also feel the leathery skin of his wing wrapped around her.

His hand was trailing over her hair, stroking lightly, and she found herself melting into his touch. Pressing further into his chest.

His skin was so warm…safe. She could have stayed there forever.

“You're awake,” Azriel’s voice murmured lazily, and for a second, she thought she must be dreaming again. His voice was so gentle, his touch so comforting….it had to be a dream, right? That this was somehow all just wishful thinking and her mind playing tricks on her?

He deserved better than her. He deserved somebody that could be with him fully and not somebody who wanted to throw up at the thought of sex.

He deserved somebody that could give him a child.

She felt her heart clench a little at that thought.

He deserved somebody who could return this bond the way it was supposed to be returned...not someone broken and scarred and wrong like she was. He deserved someone kind and loving and everything that she wasn’t.

And yet he was there, even now. Holding her close like she was something precious, as though she mattered. Treating her as though she was something important .

She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve his kindness or his care or whatever this feeling in her chest was.

“Are you in pain?” He asked her softly. “If you are, Madja left some vials of pain potion….and if you are hungry, there is Porridge on the stove. I even found honey for it,” Azriel told her softly, brushing a kiss against her forehead.

She could feel her heart skip at the kiss against her forehead. It was...intimate. So warm and soft...

She could have cried at the thought that this felt so safe. So good. That it made warmth spread through her stomach, that it made her feel so comfortable and loved….

Which was silly. A kiss on the forehead didn’t mean any of those things.

“How can you even stand to look at me?” She choked out. How could he…How could…

“Why wouldn't I like looking at you?” Azriel asked, his voice still so soft. So gentle.

His hand continued to stroke Zahra’s hair, as the other hand rubbed small circles on her lower back. Comforting, soothing motions that she felt herself leaning into, against her will.

His hand stopped stroking her hair, but only to cup her chin, to lift her head gently so that she would be looking up at him, if she opened her eyes. But she couldn’t

Zahra couldn’t.

So instead she felt the tears bite in her eyes. “Why would I not want to look at you?” he repeated.

“Because you deserve something better than damaged goods,” Zahra choked out, unable to open her eyes and look at him. Somebody that could be with him properly. Somebody that…

“You are not damaged goods,” Azriel said sharply, and his voice was so firm that it startled her.

His hand moved from her chin to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing against her skin so gently that it sent a shiver over her. “None of what has happened to you is your fault,” he continued, and his fingers were still stroking her cheek, as though he was trying to soothe her. His voice was gentle. “You are not damaged . You are not broken. You are not ‘goods’ . You’re a person . My mate .”

And still…

“I won’t be able to give you a child,” Zahra whispered.

He sighed. She expected him to pull back but he didn’t.

“Fae children are rare anyway” he said softly. “And even if you would be able to become pregnant, what about the risk it poses to you?” Azriel said softly. “If the child inherited my wings, you would both die. We saw that with Feyre and Nyx. So even if you could…that wouldn’t be a risk I would be willing to take anyway.”

Her eyes opened and she couldn't do anything but stare at him. That...Azriel couldn't possibly mean that.

He was so casual about it, as though having a child wasn't something he really cared about. As though her ability to have his children wouldn't matter to him.

A part of her chest ached at the very idea. At the thought that he might give up something so precious for her.

“You are more important to me than some hypothetical child,” Azriel said firmly.

“And what if you want…a family down the line?” She asked him quietly. “We have eternity. And you want to tell me that you’ll never regret it?”

“Having a child isn’t the only way to have a family,” Azriel countered easily. He was still gently stroking her face, his hand moving across her cheek, over the arch of her eyebrow, across her jaw. As though he couldn't stop touching her, as though he didn’t want to stop touching. “There are plenty of other ways,” he continued, his thumb drawing soft lines across her cheek. “If that is something that we decide we want. Adopting, for a start. Or fostering. The Night Court is full of orphans...there are more ways to have a family than having a child, Sunshine.”

She found herself staring at him, her chest aching and her head swirling.

He was willing to do all of it for her. To give up having a child of his own, even if she could, just to keep her safe.

Azriel was willing to overlook every fault and flaw and broken part….willing to treat her gently, like she was something precious . He was willing to be with her, even though she wouldn’t be able to give him anything in return.

And it was too much. It broke her a little bit.

“What if I never want to have sex with you?” She whispered. What if she never could…what if…what if everytime they would try it would feel like it did then?

“That is entirely up to you,” Azriel said firmly. “And if you never want to, that is also entirely alright. I would never push you for more than you are willing to give.”

He said it like it was the easiest thing in the world. Like it was the most natural thing to just…accept that she might never be able to do the absolute basics of a relationship with him. That she would never be able to even… That she might never be the type of mate he deserved. The idea made her heart ache.

“How can you say that?!” Zahra asked him.

He was still staring down at her with such softness in his eyes. “Because it’s true. You’re my mate. Nothing would make me happier than having you in my life. Even if that means never having sex again.” he said firmly. “I have two functioning hands. I can make do,” he said with a shrug. “I had enough meaningless flings to last a lifetime. They don’t really do anything for me,” Azriel admitted drily.

His words shocked her to the core.

He was so…blase about it. So casual. As though giving up sex and children just for her was no big deal. Nothing important. Nothing he’d miss.

Wasn’t sex what every male wanted?

As though he was truly just as happy to be with her without ever once touching her.

“I don’t understand..” she whispered, her voice choked. “I don’t….how are you so willing to give up so much?”

“I’m giving up nothing,” Azriel said firmly. “I’m would be gaining something. I would gain you. That alone is more than I could ever ask for.”

His hand was still stroking her cheek, and it took all her willpower not to start to cry at the words.

Because he couldn’t mean it. Just as he couldn’t want to give up having children, he couldn’t mean that he was gaining something from being with her.

She was a broken, shattered person. Nothing about this was something he had to ‘gain’. It was something he should be running from. But his eyes were so open and sincere, and she knew he believed it. Knew that it would be useless to argue against his words.

“It’s the truth,” he said, and his voice was still so gentle. “Losing meaningless flings isn’t a loss, not when I gain you. Having a child doesn’t matter when I gained my mate,” he repeated, as though he was trying to make her believe. “Even if you never want to touch me��I’d prefer just sleeping in the same bed with you, being with you than having meaningless sex,” he said softly.

His thumb was trailing over her face in soft, smooth motions. As though he was trying to soothe her. Reassure her.

“And having a child would be great. A wonderful thing. But if there’s any risk of you getting hurt, I don’t want it. A family isn’t worth risking you,” he told her firmly.

His voice was so gentle. So firm. “You’re important. More important than any hypothetical child ever could be. And I will take care of you. I will always take care of you, even if you never want to touch me.”

A lump formed in her throat at his words.

The knowledge that he meant them. The knowledge that he really didn't mind not having sex and not having a child, if that meant he could keep her .

He was willing to give those things up for her. Without hesitation.

Her heart ached at how sincere he was. At the sheer, utter adoration she could see in his face.

So with a shaky hand she reached out for him.

HIt was almost like he hadn’t expected it. Hadn’t expected her to try to initiate physical contact with him. Even though she knew how stupid that notion was.

She found herself swallowing, as she rested her fingertips against the warmth of his chest. Felt the solid expanse of his muscles. His warmth. His heart beating strongly against her touch. He didn’t move away. Didn’t even hesitate.

And she felt his warm skin, stretched over solid muscles…the dark ink that decorated his chest in swirls and patterns…the scars that littered his chest like constellations of stars.

“You’ve been the first friend I ever had,” Zahra said softly.

Azriel’s hand, that had been slowly stroking her face, stilled at her words.His eyes widened slightly, and she could see the surprise in them.

Her words had clearly caught him off guard. A part of her heart ached at that look. At all of the implications behind it. She could see the flicker of shock in his eyes. The slight furrow between his eyebrows. His utter stillness.

“And if we are mates….I am so grateful it’s you.” She whispered. “I still think you could do better than me but if you want to try…us…I am willing to.”

There was a beat of silence after her words.

She could see Azriel staring at her. Taking in her words, as disbelief and surprise swirled through his eyes.

But slowly, his eyes softened. And that strange look of shock melted away. His expression became almost…hopeful.

“You would?” He asked her softly, and he was staring at her with a look in his eyes. A mixture of relief and hope and yearning that made her heart ache.

She had to force herself to not look away.

Had to force herself to nod. To face that hope, and that yearning and that desire.

Because he was staring at her as though he was barely able to believe it. As though he was just realising that she really was consenting this.

His expression softened as she nodded.

She could see the relief in his face, in the way the tension in his shoulders disappeared.

He exhaled slowly, as though he had been holding his breath. “Really?” he whispered, as though he couldn’t believe it.

“Yes,” she found herself whispering.

It felt like her heart was in her throat. Like her chest was so tight it would burst.

She still couldn’t fully believe what she was saying.

That they were really doing this. That they were really going to… try.

But she didn’t see any reason to not try.

She didn’t see a reason to not give him a chance.

“Yes,” she repeated, and her voice was firmer this time. “If you really think you can put up with me for that long…” she said, and she tried to make a joke, even though her voice was hoarse.

He huffed out a laugh. “I could easily put up with you for eternity,” Azriel told her, and he sounded so fond that her heart gave a strange little twist.

“Even if I’m broken and scarred and messed up?” She asked him, but it wasn’t a joke. She was genuinely asking. Could he keep putting up with her?

He stared down at her, a firm, determined look in his eyes. “I like you exactly as you are,” he told her firmly. “Everything you are. All your flaws and scars and broken parts.”

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes at his words.

Her heart aching and twisting at the thought that Azriel was really, really telling the truth. That he didn’t mind the broken pieces, but wanted her. All of her.

"They are not going to like it," she whispered. Zahra didn't for one moment think that Nesta, who clearly counted Azriel as one of her friends, was going to be pleased by this.

She saw Azriel’s features tighten, as though he’d understood exactly what she’d meant.

“Maybe not,” he admitted, his hand now resting against her cheek. His touch was warm and gentle against her skin. “But they don’t matter. This is between us, not them.”“This is our relationship, not theirs,” Azriel continued, and he was staring down at her with such conviction in his eyes. “They might not like it, but I don’t care what they say. It’s not about them.”

She wished it was that easy. It must have been obvious on her face.

"Who are you worried about the most?" Azriel asked her softly.

"Nesta," Zahra admitted weakly. She saw Azriel’s expression tighten.

"Let me deal with them," Azriel requested, his voice even.

She felt her heart skip a beat.

“No,” she protested immediately. “I won’t have you arguing with your family because of me.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. “I don’t care what arguments it takes to make them understand,” he disagreed sharply. “I won’t have them disrespecting you.”

She found herself blinking. Staring up at him, at the firmness in his voice. At the determination in his eyes. He was really willing to deal with any argument. Any fight.

He was willing to stand against his family, against their family, for her.

His thumb smoothed over her cheek. "Let me deal with them," Azriel repeated fiercely. "I am over their constant disrespect to you. I am over you being ignored. I am fucking done, Zahra." Her chest ached as she saw the fierceness in his eyes.

The determination.

She was so tired. So exhausted of it all.

Zahra didn't want to deal with her sisters. She didn't want to even think about them. Not right now.... Maybe she could just...

"Okay," Zahra agreed, weakly, curling back against his chest.

She could practically feel the way Azriel’s heart thumped at her word.

“You promise?” he asked her softly. “You’ll let me deal with your sister for you?”

“I promise,” she found herself whispering, and a small part of her heart was screaming at her that she was being weak. That she could deal with her own family.

But she simply did not want to.

Azriel exhaled softly, clearly relieved.

He pulled her closer to him, his hold on her tightening. “Good,” he whispered. “I don’t want you to worry about any of them. I’ll deal with it all.”

And she let him.

For once in her life she let somebody else shoulder all of it.

She let Azriel hold her close, let him brush a hand through her hair and press a kiss against her forehead.

She let him give her porridge to eat, let him hold her through the worst of her cramps and bleeding...let him hum her to sleep...When he needed to give her medication, he was gentle and careful. Made sure to hold her close, to soothe the pain with his touch.

A part of her insisted she was too broken. Too worthless. But Azriel treated her as though she was a treasure.

As though she was someone important. Someone worthy.

He held her through the worst of it, and his hands and his voice and his touch soothed her.

It was a few days into it, when there was a knock at the door that startled Zahra.

“It’s Violet,“ Azriel answered her unspoken question, the shadows dancing around the room.

They had been even worse than their Master at doting on her. Zahra couldn’t move an inch, without one tendril of shadows jumping to be at her beg and call, fluffing her pillows and rightening her blankets… fetching her glass from the sidetable, holding a book for her and turning the pages…it was as ridiculous as it was endearing.

They seemed nearly shy sometimes, when she reached out to touch them, twining themselves through her fingers near hesitantly.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax.

This was just Violet…Violet. The owner of the apothecary she did the accounts for.

The exact opposite of him in every way. From the tips of her purple hair to the majestic butterfly wings sprouting from her back.

Zahra found her lips cracking into a small smile despite herself. Violet was…unusual, to say the least. She was loud and boisterous and spoke her mind. But she was kind.

She had given Zahra a job without a second thought, handing over her…interesting bookkeeping system without a second thought.

She was kind, and she was loud and she never once failed to brighten anybody’s day. It was hard not to feel cheered up with Violet, and Zahra had grown strangely fond of her…but that still didn’t explain from where Azriel knew her.

“You know her?” Zahra asked a triel surprised as Azriel moved from the bed.

“She makes the salve for my hands,“ Azriel said simply.

It made more sense in hindsight. Violet was an herbalist. She specialised in salves and potions and medicines. Azriel moved to the front door and Zahra clenched her teeth as she levered herself off the bed and into her dressing gown, the shadows fluffed out for her.

She felt weak, and her back protested as she moved. Her abdomen ached from the cramps and the pain, but she forced herself to get up and shuffle through to the living room. Azriel had answered the door, and she could hear Violet chattering away at him.

Zahra caught the tail end of the conversation as she shuffled through to the living room, finding Azriel holding the door open and Violet staring around the living room with an appraising eye.

“You look horrible .” Violet greeted her drily and Zahra could just snort.

“Thanks,” she gave back drily, but then Violet had already darted into the living room, her lips cracking into a wide smile, a small bottle held out for Zahra.

“You look like you’ve been through the mill and back, sweetie. But here,” she said, holding out the bottle. “This’ll help with the pain. It should at least take the edge off. Alternatively, I made you a version so strong that it’s going to knock you out. Though I would prefer it if you would only take it when another person is in the house. It leaves you…defenseless,“ Violet said.

“Oh, that’s not-”

Zahra started to protest, but Violet’s smile had become firm. “No buts, sweetie. You have *nothing * to be ashamed about. Taking a potion isn’t going to make you weak or less than the others,” Violet protested firmly. “You do not have to hurt. Ever. And if anyone says otherwise they’ll get a kick to the balls.”

Zahra found herself cracking a smile, besides herself.

Of course Violet was saying that. After all, the woman had little regard for what people thought of her or the things they said. She was too busy doing what she thought was right to care.

“Come on, let’s get you back into bed. You look about ready to keel over,“ violet murmured softly, an arm coming around Zahra‘s shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she protested weakly, but Violet wasn’t having any of it. She was already getting shoved back towards the bedroom, and her attempts at protesting or stopping were futile.

“Just get your ass back in bed, sweetie.”

Zahra found herself getting herded back into bed, a blanket being draped over her as Violet fussed.

She wanted to protest, to complain that she wasn’t a child and she could handle herself. But Violet had no tolerance for her protests, and the woman had shoved her back into bed before she could argue.

“Madja…Madja didn’t tell me what exactly happened to you but…But i am old enough that I can read between the lines,“ Violet said softly, as she sat down on the edge of the mattress.

A lump formed in Zahra’s throat at the woman’s words. Of course, Violet had been able to read between the lines. That woman had a habit of paying too much attention, and of reading the subtext.

Zahra averted her gaze.

“I did it willingly,” she protested, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

“There is a myriad of shades between willing and wanting ,” Violet said drily. “You aren’t the only one something like that happened to, Zahra,“ she said, her voice softening. “We have…There is this group that meets a few time a months.”

A group?

She felt her eyes widen, and her mind was already reaching for every implication of those few words.

The thought that there were other people who…who had been through something like this…something similiar... Others who had gone through the same things.

Zahra found her breathing hitching, a lump forming in her throat.

“You would be welcome. If you wanted to,” Violet said softly, looking at her with wide dark eyes. “No pressure, But the door is always open.”

She could only nod at the woman’s words.

A strange mix of terror and relief swirling through her head.

That there was a…that there was a group.

That there were others. She wasn’t alone.

“Thank you.“

There was a beat of silence, and then Violet was cracking a reassuring smile.

“We take care of our own,” the woman said firmly. “And you’re one of us now, sweetie.”

“And…If you ever have a really bad day…If Azriel isn’t enough…come to me,“ Violet said fiercely. “I know how comforting a mate can be…but sometimes you’ll want an outside opinion.“

She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes at the woman’s words.

The understanding in her eyes. The acknowledgement that whilst Azriel was the one she was drawn to, sometimes she would want someone else.

She was too emotional right now. Too raw from everything to actually speak, so she simply nodded mutely.

“I had a friend that told me the exact same thing when I was in your place and the only thing she ever asked of me was to pay it forward if I ever had the opportunity. So this is my opportunity. If you have a bad day…come find me.”

A weak smile found its way onto Zahra’s mouth. “I will,” she whispered. “And…thank you.”

The words felt wholly inadequate.

She had never had anyone offer something like this to her, and the fact that Violet was doing so so easily was staggering.

***

“Where’s Az?” Cassian wondered aloud as he entered the Dining Room of the River House.

He had been nowhere to be seen for days…had even let Cassian deal with the Priestesses all on his own, which had resulted in sad sighs all around.

That bastard didn’t even seem to notice the wide eyed stares and dreamy sighs that followed him every training session.

A few centuries ago it would have annoyed Cassian to no end that Azriel didn’t even seem to do anything and still have females fall at his feet.

Maybe it were the shadows…

Still…Azriel was late. Which, Cassian had to admit, was unusual for him.

And Azriel had also been oddly quiet for the last week or so. Even for the Shadowsinger, that was unusual. Azriel was never one for being social, but even he would come and spend time with the rest of them.

But in the past week? Nothing .

“He’s otherwise occupied,” Rhys said carefully.

A small frown creased Cassian’s features at his brother’s words.

“Occupied?” Cassian repeated. “That’s a vague answer, even by your standards.”

Mission? he asked Rhys mentally.

No, Rhys immediately replied, his voice quiet in Cassian’s mind. He’s not on a mission…he’s..he’s with someone.

Az got a girl? Cassian asked with a mental chortle. It wasn’t unusual exactly…though Azriel was very well known for keeping his…romantic pursuits private.

Az found his mate, Rhys corrected him.

“No way!” Cassian blurted out. “Don’t fuck with me, Rhys!”

"You know, it's horrible impolite to have a conversation like that," Mor drawled drily.

"Maybe you should share with us," Feyre agreed with a smirk.

"Azriel apparently found his mate," Cassian brought out, still staring at Rhys.

Rhys could only raise his hands, a small smirk on his lips. "I'm not pulling your leg," he replied. "Azriel has found his Mate."

“He…he what?” he heard Mor blurt out.

"I won't believe it until I see it," Amren said with a snort.

"You’re not the only one," Nesta muttered, a look of disbelief on her face.

"Who is it?" Feyre asked immediately.

"Do we know her?" Elain chimed in.

All eyes seemed to turn towards Rhys, who just shook his head.

“For once I’m in the dark just as much as you are,” he said quietly. “He’s being very…very…careful with whoever it is.”

“Why?” Cassian couldn’t help asking.

It seemed odd that Azriel would be so…secretive about all of this. But then maybe he shouldn't be surprised. Azriel was notoriously private about the females he bedded. It probably shouldn't surprise Cassian that Azriel was so private and careful about his mate.

But he couldn't help the small prick of hurt. That Azriel didn't tell him about having found his mate, that he didn't bring her to dinner…

An awkward silence filled the room at Cassian’s question.

None of them had an answer for his question…other than Rhys, and it was clear he didn’t want to answer.

There was a tense silence, and Feyre was the one to eventually break it. "...How…how long has he known?" she wondered aloud, her head tilted slightly.

"Feyre Darling, the only thing I know is that Azriel woke me up with yanking at our mental tether and then he literally told me that, I met my mate. I figured you would like to know that. I’ll take the rest of the week off. You’ll have my reports on your desk come tomorrow." Rhys said drily. "Since then, there has only been silence."

Mor let out a snort at that. "That's Azriel for you," Mor said, a wry note in her voice. "He decides to announce he's found his mate…and just goes and runs off with the girl as if it's the most normal thing in the world."

"At least that explains why he hasn't been at training," Emerie said with a sigh. "He has been greatly missed by Roslin and Ilana."

A snort of laughter left Cassian at Emerie’s words. A wide grin split his face at the memory of the Priestesses swooning all over the Shadowsinger.

"Those two are head over heels for him, aren't they?" he said, a smirk on his face.

"Head over heels doesn't even begin to cover it," Nesta said, an amused smile on her face. "He walks into the training ring and they can barely even keep themselves upright."

"Seems like his mate got some strong competition, whoever it is," Cassian said with a snort. "Who do you think she is?" he asked aloud.

What kind of female would the mother think would be a perfect match for Azriel?

"Probably someone quiet," Elain immediately interjected. "You know how Azriel is…He's all shadows and stealth."

Cassian nearly grimaced as he thought about Azriel's centuries-long crush on Mor. She was everything but quiet.

"He's never shown interest in the…shyly blushing, swooning, fainting type we all know he gets a lot from," Rhys agreed. A snort of laughter escaped Feyre at Rhys' words.

"He may have changed his mind about the type of girl he likes, now that he's found his mate,” Feyre protested.

"The mating bond is a funny sort of thing," Emerie said, a small smile on her lips. "Sometimes it's exactly the person you’d expect…sometimes it’s the exact opposite."

Cassian couldn’t help smiling at the words. He had never expected to find Nesta…but he couldn’t be happier about it.

A feeling of warmth and anticipation filled his chest at the idea of Azriel finally finding someone to call his own. He knew his brother…he knew how much Azriel longed for a mate, a family, someone to call his own…

He knew how…how difficult it had been for Azriel to watch Rhys and Feyre, and then him and Nesta, mate. How the Shadowsinger had pushed down the longing, the want, the desire, and instead had focused on helping everyone else…

"That's all of us then, isn't it?" Elain asked questioningly. "We all found our mates."

“Zahra hasn’t,” Feyre piped up.

It took an embarrassingly long time for the name to register, and when it did, Cassian couldn’t help the surprised look that dawned on his face.

Right. Zahra hadn't found her mate.

Was he an asshole for forgetting that she actually existed?

She was so…quiet. Happy in the background…never did anything that gave any of them any trouble.

"Where is she by the way?" he wondered aloud, staring around the Dining Room. Zahra was nowhere to be seen.

Normally she always showed up for family dinner. Granted, she spent most of it quietly sitting next to Azriel, occasionally making the effort to try and join in on conversation with the rest of them…but she was…she was almost always here.

A beat of silence filled the room, and Cassian couldn’t help the feeling of unease that filled his stomach.

"She's probably just busy," Feyre waved him off.

"Good Riddance," Nesta muttered under her breath.

Cassian grimaced at that. While Nesta’s relationship with Feyre and Elain had gotten better…her and Zahra were still…at odds.

"Would you stop that?" Feyre asked her with a sigh. "She hasn't done anything to you, Nesta"

"It's her existence that's enough," Nesta sniped back.

Cassian couldn't help the sharp trickle of something inside his chest.

"She didn't pick to be born," Cassian snapped at his mate. “She didn’t chose to be a bastard. You can give your father the fault for her existence."

Nesta’s silver eyes stared at him. "That's not my problem with her," Nesta said tightly.

"Then what is?" Feyre demanded.

No response came from Nesta, but a heavy silence fell over the room.

“She had an affair with that apothecary,” Elain blurted out.

The words fell like stones in the quiet dining room.

A moment of stunned silence filled the room at Elain’s words, and Cassian couldn’t help the feeling of shock that filled his chest.

"Excuse me…she WHAT?!" Feyre demanded hotly, staring at Elain.

Elain flinched back in her chair, hunching her shoulders with the sudden onslaught of everyone’s gazes on her.

But she continued on, even as a look of disdain filled her face. "She had an affair with the apothecary," Elain said, a note of irritation in her voice. "When we were at the cottage…He had a wife and children…and she had an affair with him that went on for years ."

A feeling of shock filled his chest, and judging by the looks on the others' faces…they were just as shocked as he was.

He’d always thought that Zahra had a strange air about her…but he’d never expected her to have…to have done something like that. He couldn't...He couldn't see that. For the life of him, he couldn't see it.

She was so quiet. She was so…she had never seemed interested in any male whatsoever. Rather the exact opposite. Shy…nearly skittish.

“There is no way she would have done that..” Feyre blurted. The words were almost desperate, and a look of disbelief filled her face.

“Why not?” a hard look on Nesta’s face. “There are plenty of women who have no issue being with married men.”

“Not her,” Feyre protested vehemently. “I know her. She wouldn’t… she wouldn't have taken that risk," Feyre said carefully, her face ashen. "She would have never taken the risk to...have a bastard-born child herself."

"Perhaps she thought the risks were worth the reward," Nesta said bluntly, a sneer on her face. "Maybe she liked the idea of being someone's dirty little secret."

"Or maybe, just maybe, she wasn't exactly willing," Emerie said tightly. "She wouldn't be the first female to have an affair with a well-off man for one reason or another.”

Silence met Emerie’s words.

A heavy, quiet, tense silence, that fell like stones in the dining room.

Silence, and a look of shock on the other females’ faces.

Cassian could only stare mutely.

He’d never even considered that…had never thought the idea that...that Zahra had…he couldn’t even form the words in his head, let alone say them aloud.

"I…" Feyre began, her voice faltering.

Cassian felt sick to the stomach at the idea. He knew…he knew that, objectively, it was possible. That it happened…that sometimes females had no choice but to…to do what they had to. And he knew that it wasn't…it wasn't Zahra's fault, if that was the case. If she’d been forced, coerced, manipulated into an affair…

"Or maybe she really just had an affair with a married male," Mor disagreed with her mate. "She definitely wouldn’t be the first female who did that either."

"Yeah, well, without actually talking to her, you probably won't find out," Emerie said drily.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #Azriel x Archeron!Reader #Stars all aligned

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minus-plus-zer0 · 2 months ago

Text

Staring Contest, GO!

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

"Staring contest, GO!"

Bakugou glowered at you like the apex predator he assuredly wasn't. You peered up at him meekly, doe-eyed and innocent. Neither of you were willing to back down, to do so meant forfeiting your dignity as a human being.

"Stop giving me those puppy-dog eyes!" Bakugou yelled.

"This is just how I look..."

"STOP LOOKING SADDER YOU'RE MAKING IT WORSE!"

Bakugou grit his teeth. He couldn't stare into those puppy-dog eyes forever. Eventually, he'd feel so guilty he'd have to throw himself off of five decently sized cliffs. You just had that effect on him sometimes.

The rest of the class spectated from around the classroom, with some students piling themselves on a limited amount of desks just to watch the most infamous duo duke it out, staring contest style. Only Iida protested against this development, with yelling drowned out by everyone else's lack of giving a fuck.

Bakugou couldn't continue staring at you forever, because eventually something you said or did would make him blush in front of the entire class and he needed to keep his feelings for you a secret. It was his worst kept secret, because everybody already knew, but he tried all the same.

So he had to do something before your curious hand reached out and touched his fluffy hair.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he asked, catching your wrist like his hand was a handcuff.

"I got bored, so I wanted to play with your hair again!"

You looked at him oh so innocently from across the desk. Your classmates snickered.

"Again?" Kirishima asked, while sitting on top of a nearby desk. "So you've done this before?"

"Does it hurt to touch because of the spikes?" Sero asked, sitting in the seat of that same desk.

"It's surprisingly soft and nice and--"

"Don't tell them everything!" Bakugou snapped, his voice a growl as his hand still glued itself to your wrist. "That's none of their business."

"Sorry..." you said, smiling. "Can you stop clenching my wrist now? You're gonna make me flinch!"

You dropped your wrist onto the desk like a dead fish. You picked it back up and nursed it close to your chest. He didn't hurt you (he would never hurt you) but you liked to play up the vulnerable sweetie pie act sometimes.

"Sorry," he said.

"He said sorry for once!" Denki cried. "You hear that, class?"

"Shut. Up."

"Does it actually hurt?" Asui asked, standing beside your chair.

"Only a whole lot," you said, with a sniffle. "Gosh, you really--"

"Hey!" Bakugou pointed at you. "You fucking blinked!"

"What?"

"You blinked when you sniffled," Asui said.

"Oh darn!"

"HA HA!" Bakugou stood from his seat, pumping his fists. "Ya see that? Ya fucking see that?! That's what ya get for teasing me all the damn time!"

The rest of the class did not join in on his gloating, for they were too often on the receiving end of his arrogance and insults. Some students passed around money, having bet on your results. Others just sighed.

Bakugou still kept challenging you to extra staring contests afterwards just for an excuse to continue looking at you. He often commented on every part of your appearance and checked to see if you noticed his in turn. You would giggle and get embarrassed, causing you to blink. Then you would restart the staring contest all over again and Bakugou would continue riling you up just to see your sweet smile one more time. He could never get enough of you. The staring contests were all a convenient excuse to hang out with you more, so long as you allowed it.

And even after the contests, Bakugou really couldn't stop staring at your pretty face.

(At some point you probably need to take a picture together so he'd have something else to look at for once gosh darn it...)

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huexuri · 5 months ago

Text

𖥔 · txt + fav pet names in bed!!

NSFW, MDNI

⚠️ warnings: fem!reader, sub!soobin, dom!tyun, sub!hyuka, degradation in tyuns, pet names obviously (some are used on reader : slut / mommy), bratty soobin, swearing, somno in kai's but it's consented, tba and lmk if i missed anything!

🗒️ note: guys im so sorry why was soobins and yeonjuns scenarios shorter than the others..... for some reason nothing else came out of my mind legit :')

⋆ .˚ yeonjun 🦊 - love

— call him "my love" and chills WILL go down his spine

— he's obsessed with the fact that he belongs to you. basically, he loves being yours.

— when you call him 'love' it just never fails to remind him that he's.. your love:(

₊ ࣪✦ .˚

yeonjun's arms are around your waist as he spoons you from behind and slowly pounds into you. “ah, yeonjun, s-so good,” you sputter, and he buries his head in the crook of your neck. he closes in on you deeper.

“feels good?” he whispers as he lays sloppy kisses down your jawline, holding your back so close to his. you feel his warmth protect you from the cold air as he sneaks a hand up under your shirt to touch your bare breasts. his hands are the warmest when he touches you where you're most sensitive, and you hiss through your teeth at the feeling.

“feels so good when you're pounding into me like that, my love.” you answer his question, but you realize he's stopped kissing you slowly as his breath lays heavy on your neck.

“fuck, ‘love’?” yeonjun whispers. he whines as he fucks into you deeper with more force, and it catches you off guard.

“holy fuck, darling… please, please say i'm your love.” yeonjun cries out as he practically slams into you, grip on his bedsheets so strong it turns his knuckles a white hue.

“a-ah! you're mine, love! mh..!” you moan as you're caught off guard by the sudden intensity. you didn't realize how much yeonjun loved being called ‘love’ until this moment, where even the word itself makes yeonjun's lips latch onto your neck.

“yeah? fuck… fuck you're so hot…that's right, i'm all yours, all yours—!” yeonjun spurs, his movements slowly becoming nonsensical and all you can do is take it.

⋆ .˚ soobin 🐰 - bunny

— never beating the bunny allegations

— loves being your bunny, listening to whatever you tell to him because he's so obedient only when it comes to you

— no matter how hard he tries to be a brat, call him bunny and he ends up submitting to you in an instant

₊ ࣪✦ .˚

“soobin, if you don't listen baby… for fucks sake.” you continue to rub his tip against your folds as you hover over him, teasing him every two minutes. you pretend that you are about to sink down on him just to lift your hips again, earning a whine from him and occasional hisses through his teeth.

“and what are you gonna do if i don't listen?” soobin laughs as he licks his lips, thrusting up into you impatiently until you hold his thighs down.

“what did i fucking say, bunny?” you retreat, and he falls silent.

for a while he's quiet, his eyes morphing into a puppy-like pleading gaze and his lips quivering as he shakes underneath you. until, he finally decides to speak up again, and of course… he's—

"s-sorry, ‘m sorry, p-promise i won't be bad again," soobin pathetically cries out.

"yeah? are you r-r-really?" you coo. after what felt like forever to him, you finally sink down on him as a reward for his patience, and to that, he lets out the most heavenly broken moans in relief as he throws his head back, muttering thank you's over and over again like that's the only word he knows how to speak.

⋆ .˚ beomgyu 🐻 - pretty

— i mean… that's just cus he is… what else am i supposed to call him

— and he knows it too — the way his eyes light up when you call him pretty?

— especially turns him on and gets him all riled up because he loves when he's acknowledged as your pretty boy

₊ ࣪✦ .˚

“gyuuu~ what you doing?” you approach beomgyu who is playing on the computer with his friends.

“just playing, what's up?” as he spins his chair to look towards your direction, a smile grows onto his face at the sight of his girlfriend standing at the doorway.

“nothing, just wanted to come in and bug you, hehe.”

“c'mere then princess,” beomgyu says, he pats his lap, initiating to take a seat, and you do, sitting sideways so you don't block his view of the screen.

“you can continue playing, i'll watch you!” you insist.

as he's playing, you really can't help but notice how prettily his hair falls over his face as he's focused, eyes glued onto the character on screen.

you sweep a strand of his hair away from beomgyu's face and he smiles and looks at you for a brief moment before his focus goes back to the game.

“my pretty beomgyu,” you mutter as your gaze is latched on nowhere else but his features.

but beomgyu almost instantly takes his headset off, gazes at you, and you immediately feel his boner poking your thighs from underneath.

“are you…” you scoff at him in disbelief and .. slight amusement.

“yeah, i am.” beomgyu tucks your hair behind your ear. “say what you just said.”

“my… pretty beomgyu?” you hesitantly say as you try to get off his lap, but it only makes him hold your hips down.

“that's right, i'm your pretty boy.” gyu smirks as he grinds up into you, and the videogame is long forgotten by now.

⋆ .˚ taehyun 🐿️ - sir

— sorry guys this might be a bit cringe

— first of all i know he loves to be the dom in the relationship

— loves to be in authority all the time, so when you call him sir or anything along those lines really… expect your ability to walk gone by tomorrow

— calling him sir is like a way of telling him fuck me till the sun rises

₊ ࣪✦ .˚

“taehyun, what are you—”

as taehyun backs you up to your bedroom wall, you're sandwiched in between the concrete and taehyun's broad composure.

he pins your wrists above your head with his right hand, the other cupping your cheek and stroking it gently.

“what do you mean what am i doing?” taehyun almost growls. “what did i say about touching yourself without telling me?” he inches closer to you, and you immediately feel his hard-on poking against your lower stomach.

“i'm sorry, i-i missed you so much i couldn't wait! forgive me!” you cry in defense, but it's like talking to a wall, because he doesn't listen to your pleas.

“fucking impatient girl. wanted me to come in and see you in nothing but my shirt and your panties?” taehyun hooks his finger around the hem of your underwear, then slipping his hand under to tease you. “of course you're wet. you love when you're humiliated like this in front of me, huh?”

“t-taehyun!” you yelp, not even knowing what you're calling him for.

“that's not my name.” he lets go of your wrists and lifts your chin, inching a finger towards your mouth to fondle with your lips.

“remember what i told you? what do sluts like you address me?”

“s-sir,” you mumble in uncertainty.

“louder!” taehyun's gaze into yours intensifies.

“sir! i'm sorry!” you spit out, and a shit-eating grin is plastered onto his face.

“that's right, good girl. now, haven't you been waiting for a while now?” taehyun’s hands deviate towards his belt as he starts to unbuckle it.

⋆ .˚ hueningkai 🐧 - good boy

— this may seem a bit cringe AGAIN but PLEASEhear me out

— just.. the entire sub!kai agenda like … it's pretty hard to perceive him as anything else but a praise desperate whore

— anything you call him that is any sort of praise to him we all know he will fold immediately

— always begging you to reassure him that he's your good boy because that's all he wants to be for you

— literally believes his only purpose here is to pleasure you

₊ ࣪✦ .˚

you couldn't resist it. he looked so pretty as he slept beside you, his bangs away from his face and he just looked so peaceful… a bit too peaceful for you. you just wanted to replace that expression with a fucked out and flushed one, and you couldn't figure why you felt like this, but you started to feel yourself pool at your panties.

you knew that he consented to this, so you gave in; guiltily, you snuck your hand beneath his sweatpants, surprised to feel his cock instantly as he wasn't wearing any boxers.

“mm, ngh,” kai mumbles, his eyes completely shut, his lips slightly parted and at peace of mind — he was completely unconscious about anything happening, but little whines and squirms that uncontrollably rolled off his tongue would wake him — he soon realized you were fondling with his half erect cock, making him wake up in a cold sweat when he, for some reason already feels overstimulated and has absolutely zero idea of what's going on.

“mmh, why is it so—aah,” his eyes are barely fluttering open, and the first thing in his sight is your hand all up in his now fully erect cock.

“w-wait—”

“shhh…” you placed a finger onto his plush lips.

“but—!” kai protested.

you hovered over him, your dolphin shorts shoved to the side to make way for his cock against your entrance.

“don't you wanna be good for me?” you stroked kai's cheek gently, and kai started to relax slightly.

“a-anything for you, mommy…” kai embarrassedly replied, his cheeks completely flushed and hot to the touch.

“good boy, kai~” you cooed, and you sank down onto him inch by inch. kai let out a sigh and started to feel even more stimulated as your gummy walls engulfed him. “are you a good boy? can you take it, baby?”

“oh my god,” kai exhaled as you started to bounce on him. “y-yes, i can, i'm—fuck! i'm your good boy!” he cried, his vision starting to go blurry and his mind in a sudden euphoric state because of your praises; and most importantly, because he knows he's all for you to use.

[ ©𝐡𝐮𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐫𝐢 :: please don't repost/copy/steal my layouts/works onto tumblr or any other platform without consent/permission ]

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twirlyleafs · 9 months ago

Text

“Matilda”

Max Verstappen x reader

TW: complicated relationship with parent and guilt but mostly fluff <3

A/N: based on the song Matilda by Harry Styles

~~~~

You can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know.

“I think we should call off the party.” You said, not looking up from your plate as you continued parting your food. In your peripheral vision you could tell Max froze just as he was about to pop a piece of chicken in his mouth.

“What?”

“The engagement party. I don’t want to do it anymore.” You tried to keep your tone light, as if it didn’t really bother you when in reality you’d cried an hour about it this morning. For the past few weeks you and Max had been planning a party to celebrate getting engaged, or rather you had been supposed to. In reality you had planned it, Max avoiding the subject like the plague. Every time you asked him to sit down with you to look at something regarding it he’d suddenly been very busy and if you asked for his advice he’d just kissed you and told you it didn’t matter, that it was your choice. At first you’d been so excited about the party, not just to get to celebrate the love you shared with Max, but because you thought planning a party together would give you a hint of how planning a wedding would be. Now all it did was make you want to cry.

“Why not? I thought you were so excited?” Max placed his utensils down, frowning at you from across the table. You shrugged, moving some lettuce around on your plate.

“Yeah, but it’s fine. I think it’s best if we skip it.”

“But why?” He pressed and with a deep breath you looked up at him. Max offered the softest expression, genuine worry and confusion on his face. You forced yourself to give him a small smile.

“You don’t want to Max.” You stated simply and his face fell for a second before the frown was back. He opened his mouth to say something but obviously changed his mind, a silence settling over the table. You looked back down, poking the food around and occasionally taking a bite. It felt like forever before Max spoke up.

“I do want to.” The way he said it with a sigh had you looking up at him with furrowed brows. He shook his head when he met your gaze, obviously sensing your disbelief. “I do, I promise you baby. There’s just- I’ve been thinking about, well-“ Max didn’t seem to find the words, suddenly nervous. You reached your hand across the table, wiggling your fingers a bit. Max paused, a small smile forming on his face as he took your hand in his and leaned down to press a kiss against it.

“Tell me.” You mumbled, your thumb moving over his skin in the most comforting way you could. Max gave you a quick nod and you could tell he found it hard to express whatever it was he was about to say.

“I know we said we wanted our families and friends at the party.” He began, and you nodded. “And I do. Mostly.”

“What do you mean?” You were confused.

“You know I love my dad.” He began and it slowly dawned on you what this was about. You refrained from grimacing at the mention of Jos. The two of you had never really gotten along but that had never bothered you that much, Max had ensured you that Jos had never and would never get along with anything that took time away from racing. What made you really dislike your soon to be father in law was the way he treated his son. You’d seen Jos absolutely tear into Max for mistakes made by the team, by other drivers. You’d heard the stories from Maxs childhood, having been told the worst ones by his mother and sister since he would never share them himself. He didn’t want to put his dad in bad light, ever. Even when Jos definitely deserved it.

And not invite your family because they never showed you love.

“I know you do.” You agreed, leaving it at that. Max once again nodded softly, knowing very well how you felt about his father.

“And even though a part of me wants him there- I mean he is my dad.” Max paused again to take another deep breath, eyes fixed on your hands, before continuing. “An even bigger part of me don’t want him to come because I know he’ll either upset you or my mom or one of our friends.”

“Or you.” You added, knowing that even though Max had taught himself not to let it show when his father hurt him it affected him a great deal.

“Or me.” He agreed, quietly. “I think everything would be better if he didn’t come but I also feel this, I don’t know, intense guilt at the thought of not inviting him.” Maxs eyes shot up to stare at you the second you pulled your hand from his. He watched you stand up and for a split second he thought you were angry, but he quickly realized that you were rounding the table to come to him. Pushing his chair out he let you crawl up in his lap, his arms automatically wrapping around you. With a small pout on your face you let your hands cup his cheeks, forcing him to face you.

“Max.” You cooed, not being able to stop yourself from placing a quick but loving kiss on his lips before continuing. “You have every right in the world to invite, or not invite, whoever you want. Just because he is your father doesn’t mean he gets an automatic invite if you don’t feel like you want him here.”

“But it feels so mean.”

“He’s mean.” You stated, backtracking when you saw Maxs face drop. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. What I’m trying to say is that he put himself in a position where you’re even considering not inviting him. He did that. Not you.” You scratched your nails against his stubble, making him close his eyes momentarily. “I’ll support you no matter what you decide and I promise we will make the best of the situation whether he’s here or not. But you should only invite him if you actually want him here, not because you feel obligated. Loving someone doesn’t mean bending over backwards for them.” When Max opened his eyes again he immediately met your gaze and you could tell your words were slowly resonating within him.

“I don’t think I want him here.” You rarely heard Max be so vulnerable and it made your heart both hurt and swell with pride. He was standing up for himself.

“And you don’t have to be sorry for that. You don’t need to list anymore reasons other than the fact that you simply don’t want to.” You let your hands wander down his jaw and to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. Max nodded slowly and even though you could tell he wasn’t quite there yet, he was one step closer to standing up for himself. You tilted your head, offering a soft smile. “You don’t have to decide anything right now Maxie, we can take some time.” Max couldn’t help but smile back, leaning down to kiss you.

You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, lips still pressed against yours. You felt his arms tightening around you and you let your head fall to his shoulder. Max let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you out lately.”

“You always stress me out.” You joked, earning a soft laugh and fingers pressing into your side. You grinned and pecked his neck a few times, being the only thing you could reach while staying as comfortable as you were. “No but seriously Max, don’t worry about it. I get it. Just know that you can always talk to me about these things, about anything.”

“I know.” He whispered against your head and you smiled. Marrying Max would be the best decision of your life, you were sure of it.

#formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen #max verstappen fanfic #formula one #verstappen fanfic #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 x reader #redbull #redbull racing #imagine

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taesancult · 10 months ago

Text

bf!jaehyun 18+ thoughts

warnings: fem!reader, sub!jaehyun, mentions of crying, mentions of subxsub, dirty talk/praise, like one mention of slapping, use of the name puppy, he’s my sweet sensitive boy so i wrote him as such!, begging, and i think that’s it!

SMUT UNDER THE CUT. MDNI.

bf!jaehyun, who lowkey cries when things get super lovey and passionate. it’s so endearing and honestly SO!! attractive to see a man be unapologetically sensitive. sometimes when you two have sex you have to check in with him rather than the other way around, and you don’t mind of course! it’s nice to be able to take care of him in such a special way (it’s hot). he would literally be mid-stroke and start tearing up and you would be like ??? and he would say in the middle of shedding tears “i just love you so much.” it’s the sweetest thing ever, literally makes your heart fill with so much love for him.

bf!jaehyun, who is most likely quite subby. he’s a switch, but he really loves when you have control. he loves when you use him, telling him that all he’s good for is being your puppy, it ignites his love for you. there’s just something about the idea of you being the dominant one that makes him feel all cool like he loves having a girlboss gf that isn’t afraid to smack him when he’s been a whore.

bf!jaehyun, who is the most fun to experience subxsub with. it’s so desperate and messy like two puppies in heat just aching to get off. you’re both so stupid, rutting into each other with only one goal in mind. in moments like this, the two of you probably won’t even get your clothes fully off. he’ll just fuck you on the nearest surface with your panties pulled to the side. it’s so filthy to think about. he would slam you against the wall as you both tug at each other’s clothes, he would speak aloud, telling you, in a pained voice, “i’m so desperate for your pussy right now.” it would make your body heat up, the want for him increasing tenfold as you tell him, “need you, need to feel you cum in me so bad, myungjae.” that would only egg him on further to get his cock into you as soon as possible.

bf!jaehyun, who really has a hard time containing himself when you praise him. he’s so fucking cute; his cheeks blushing, his cock twitching, his eyes looking away from yours because he feels shy. he’ll literally get so shy if you compliment his cock too. you would tell him as you’re riding him, “myungjae, you have such a pretty cock, could fuck myself on it forever.” this man would turn into a PUDDLE. a shiver goes up his spine with the way you talk to him, and he would close his eyes, throwing his head back with a smile plastered on his face. what’s really fun, though, is if you ask him “why didn’t you say thank you? i just complimented you!” with a pout. he gets sooo flustered and shy as he spills out a bunch of gratitude as you continue bouncing on his cock. he’s so fun to play with <3

bf!jaehyun, who is the man that every girl dreams of. he’s out here moaning and crying in your ear. he truly doesn’t hold back, especially because he trusts you with his most vulnerable sides, so he’s not shy about moaning. and boy…. does he have the prettiest fucking moans. not only that, but he’s so whiny like he’s always on the verge of tears and it’s so- literally like orgasm inducing. he also doesn’t stop talking at times, he would whine out things like “please- please- i’m so fucking close i’m gonna cum!” and “stop! it hurts! too much- oh my god-” WHEW- he’ll beg and he’s not ashamed to do so!

#kisa’s hard thoughts #admin.kisa <3 #boynextdoor hard thoughts #boynextdoor hard hours #bnd hard hours #bnd hard thoughts #boynextdoor smut #bnd smut #myung jaehyun smut #myung jaehyun x reader #myung jaehyun hard hours #jaehyun bnd smut #bnd jaehyun smut

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angelicabunny · 11 months ago

Text

Soaking Wet.

requested: yes!!

summary: chris walking in on you in the shower

warnings: smut (ofc 😛), shower sex, a little rough, chris sturniolo x reader.

the hot water trickled down my back as i pushed my hair out of my face, letting the water soak it. my body feeling more relaxed by the second, i haven’t had time home alone in forever with the triplets constantly filming and working from home. don’t get me wrong i love them but sometimes it’s too much.

the candle lit on the counter released a warm vanilla scent as i watched the mirror fog up.

not having time alone also meant not having time alone, to please myself. i haven’t felt pleasure in over a month. before i knew it my hand was snaked around the shower head, bringing it closer to my throbbing clit. my body was begging for sensation. the warm water gently spraying my needy clit, almost giving me enough feeling, god it felt amazing.

the quietest moans escaped my mouth before my mind drifted. the triplets were all out separately meaning any one could come home any time soon. i placed the shower head back before i went too far. i closed my eyes while facing the falling water, letting it wash away my frustration and lust.

i mustn’t have heard the sound of the door opening, or the sound of footsteps trailing up the stairs but someone was definitely home. the foot steps continued past the bathroom meaning it was chris, his room was just down the hall, i didn’t bother calling out he knew i was home.

all of a sudden i heard the bathroom door knob click and the door fly open. i turned in shock staring at chris.

“holy shit , i’m so fucking sorry!” he yelled while trying not to look at me.

“chris!”, i screamed while rushing to cover my indecency, “what are you doing?!” i cried while feeling my face burn.

he couldn’t do anything but stare, his jaw sitting slightly open, his breathing shallow.

there had always been a certain tension between us, yet neither of us acted on it.

i took him in with my eyes, his brown hair slightly fluffier, a small layer of sweat covering him. i felt his eyes consume me as he fixed his hair. all of a sudden he was removing his shirt, throwing it to the ground. followed by his pants and boxers. i made room for him in the shower, i could feel myself getting desperate. he jumped in, grabbing my face, pulling me in for a rough kiss. his movements showing how hungry he was. i tipped my head back, exposing my neck, his soft lips left rough kisses along it.

he made his way up to my ear, the sound of his heavy breathing traveled into them as the water still sprayed above us, “you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” he whispered in my ear while pushing his rock hard cock against me.

“c-chris, we cant,” i whimpered pathetically.

i could feel him smirk against my skin, “no one’s gonna be home for hours.” he grunted.

i let out the quietest sob as he bit my earlobe teasing me. his hand made its way down to my entrance, his long fingers collecting my slick, “god you’re already soaking wet.” he said roughly before gripping my hips and picking me up. my plush thighs clasping around him as he pushed inside of me. “god you’re fucking tight.” he said through his teeth.

his biceps twitching with every movement as he gripped my ass roughly, bouncing me around like a rag doll. my arms wrapped around his neck, trying to support my weight as he continued to throw me around on his cock.

“it’s okay ma you can let go, i got you.” he said in a low raspy voice. i shook my head in response. i couldn’t let go. i was so close. one more thrust and i’d collapse.

“c-can’t, so fucking close.” i slurred.

his grip tightened around me as he pushed into me harder. my mind now filled with fog. “just be patient for me, i’m almost there.” he grunted.

my eyes had no place else to go but the back of my head. i was practically drooling as he left harsh kisses on my neck. his cock throbbing inside of me and hitting places i’ve never felt before. the familiar sensation grew stronger, i was on the edge. the pit of my stomach growing tighter. before i could get a word out a wave of pleasure exploded throughout my veins.

“oh god!l” i cried in an almost pornographic voice.

“oh f-fuck.” chris moaned while thrusting once more, his warm ropes of cum filling me as my legs trembled around him.

a quiet gasp left my mouth as he pulled out roughly, placing me back down onto the tiles. his arms pulling me in as his head lowered. his hair wet and separated yet still sitting perfectly.

“you’re mine now.” he whispered into my ear while holding my chin up.

i couldn’t do anything but nod in response. a smirk growing on his face.

“let me clean you up pretty girl.” he said while admiring my curves.

sorry this took so long to post !! and sorry it’s so short and rushed. i’ve had no motivation whatsoever but i will definitely start posting more again. ty for 200 as well, i love you all !!

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #fanfic #smut #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut

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kaziwi · 1 year ago

Note

one piece boys reaction to a f!reader who cries whenever she is angry (include whoever you want, but put Law, Zoro and Sanji please)

agagagaga i love requests like these <3 sorry it’s a bit long but i hope you enjoy!!

Character(s): Law, Zoro, Sanji

WC: 1,460

Reader Who Cries When Angry

Law

It was just a simple misunderstanding...why did you get so frustrated???

No. It wasn't your fault...it was HIS

Your boyfriend, Law, had asked that you accompany him on exploring the newest island, YOU, like only and specifically you

Of COURSE you thought this was a date kinda thing because it had been like 100000 years since Law had taken you out and omgomgomg you were so excited

You had put on a little bit extra makeup and did your hair nicer as you met Law on the docks

"You look nice," he commented. You screamed and did a little dance in your head but put on a calm smile for him

It seemed Law had made up his mind on where you two were going because instead of heading to town, you were both trudging up a hill in the middle of the woods

Maybe he was bringing you to a flower field....OR maybe he was going to give you a big old kiss under a cherry blossom tree

Ok maybe you were a bit ahead of yourself...but you couldn't help but wonder???

Then Law abruptly stopped in front of you and crouched down over a bush. You decided to repeat his actions to find out what he was staring at. There were small berries in the bush, all with different colors and sizes.

He opened his bag and pulled out a notebook and pen and handed it to you.

"Write as I talk," he commanded, and who were you to disobey your captain.

Law went on for what seemed like forever about these berries and described them all in detail. You wrote down as much as you could till your hand started to cramp, but thank god by then he was basically over.

He mumbled a small thank you as he took the notebook back, quickly revised the notes you had taken, and stood back up.

"Alright lets head back"

What...did he mean...head back...

WHERE WERE THE FLOWERS AND THE KISSES?????

"Law...." you asked calmly, "what are we doing out here?"

Law looked at you a little funny and said, "Well I read that these berries are only found on this island. I read about their different properties and wanted to see them for myself."

"And why did you choose me of all people to come out here with you..?"

"Well you have the neatest handwriting."

That had done it.

You wanted to scream and yell and make angry hand gestures at him....but all you could do was cry

It was like a dam broke and you just couldn't stop

Law looked more confused than he had ever looked in his life...then rushed over to you like the good boyfriend he SHOULD HAVE BEEN

Law continued to ask what was wrong...but all you could do was cry

When you FINALLY calmed down...you explained to him that you thought this was a date...and were ANGRY at him for not making it one

Lets just say this story ends with Law buying you icecream and giving you a million kisses mwah mwah

Zoro

In his defense he had no clue you were gonna start crying

He just wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine

You always LOVED to prank him along with Luffy and Usopp

None of those pranks were CRAZY...just little silly tricks like banana peals on the floor to slip on or throwing water balloons at him...but either way they annoyed him

SOMEHOW he thought of the genius idea to prank you back...

Though Zoro's definition of a prank IS NOT what you'd think it was.....

The crew had just arrived on a new island and everyone went their separate ways to explore

Zoro had insisted that you and him take a walk in the woods, and even though you were against it since he ALWAYS gets lost…you reluctantly followed along…

Zoro had the perfect plan in his head….he was going to walk ahead…hide behind some some trees..and then SCARE YOU (he’s not the most creative with these things)

He had suddenly ran ahead..saying that he spotted something and leaving you alone

He SWORE he only ran only a minute or two ahead, just enough where he could wait and hide…

But that was an hour ago…and Zoro was waiting FOREVER..till he heard you..

SOMEHOW in running 2 minutes ahead he got himself lost

So there you were frantically calling his name while the sun quickly set

You really REALLY didn’t wanna be out here in the dark looking for him… and the creepy forest sounds did not help

A small rustle caught you attention..so you walked closer to the sound…till ZORO in all his glory jumped out of the tree and yelled boo

You were so startled that you fell back and hit the forest floor..while Zoro started CACKLING

You were tired…scared…hungry…and PISSED

As much as you wanted to scream your head off at him and punch him 10000 times…all you could do was start to cry

He stopped laughing as soon as he heard your sobs and felt frozen when he saw you crying

He never cried when you pulled tricks on him..SO WHY WERE YOU??????

“WHY ARE YOU CRYING,” he yelled, meaning it to come off more comforting

“CAUSE YOU SCARED ME,” you yelled back while still crying

After some back and fourth yelling..Zoro admitted he was wrong..but SWORE he didn’t get lost..you did

And you were so gonna prank him back for this one

Sanji

Now Sanji RARELY ever made you mad

You always laughed when you heard people complaining about their partners because your boyfriend was just perfect

Though one thing did kinda piss you off….his flirting

Now don’t get it confused you LOVED when he flirted with you…but it was the flirting with every woman he saw that bugged you

Usually you brushed it off and reminded yourself that he loved you more…but this time was different

You were helping him pick supplies at an island you stopped at, a usual job between the two of you

Though your palette wasn't as refined as Sanji's, you still were good at picking what food was best for the crew

Sanji had spotted a stand in the market with fruits native to the island, which were apparently very rare

He looked like a kid in a candy store while talking to you about the fruits, and all was well UNTIL the shop vendor came over

Now this girl was GEORGOUS like looked like Boa Hancock your jaw dropped when you saw her....and so did Sanji's...

Immediately he showered her with compliments and praises, just the usual....but instead of turning him down like the usual girls do...she flirted back...

Whatever...who cares...I mean it was bound to happen soon...but surely Sanji wouldn't take it too far...

You honestly didn't care too much...only a little jealous...TILL SHE INVITED HIM TO HER HOUSE

The vendor basically had said that she would show Sanji some of her new recipes that she made with the fruit and would love to talk about technique....IN HER HOUSE

Why couldn't they just do that here??? and even better why don't they just end the conversation now!!

Deep down you BELIEVED in your boyfriend and knew he wouldn't accept the invitation....until he did

A quick kiss on your forehead and a quick goodbye he left with the vendor and started to walk to her house...

What. Just. Happened.

So first he leaves you to hangout with this RANDOM lady...AND THEN LEAVES YOU TO FINISH THE SHOPPPING

It was later in the evening when he came back to the Sunny...a new recipe book in tow

He was excited to show it off to you, and was happy to hear that you finished the shopping for him!!

Sanji found you in the kitchen, putting away the food in the pantry

"Y/N!! Look at this amazing new recipe book I got from that vendor, you'd love this one-"

He looked up from his rant to notice that you were crying...

Sanji dropped the book and ran to you, begging you to tell him what was wrong

You wanted to stay silent and angry at him, but the tears kept pouring out and you just wanted him to hold you

You told him how upset his flirting made you and how him leaving with the other woman made you furious

He immediately apologized and honestly didn't stop for the rest of the night

He swore to you that he would tune down the flirting and that he would bring all his attention to you

And he kept that promise well, minimalizing the complements towards other women, even dialing it down around Nami and Robin

He truly was sorry and vowed to himself to never make you cry again

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year ago

Text

Steve and Gareth as Cousins, no longer a warm-up and now called Lifelines, part three! I’ll throw it up on A03 when I finish the fourth part.

Prior parts can be read here: Part One / Part Two

First things first, the most amazing @ sereinpetrichor managed to track down the OG Twitter thread this runaway train is based off of!

It was this thread by @gatorthots, the Tumblr version of which can be read, here. All blame for this idea firmly rests on their brilliant, plot bunny inducing shoulders.

The other, follow up thread I mentioned was this one by Silas, whose tumblr name I do not know.

As always and forever, shout out to the most amazing @chalkysgarbagefire who helps me edit/plot/pats my head while I’m crying in their inbox bc the words aren’t wording right.

Warnings: Steve and Robin are canon (S3) drugged. I took a slightly (kinda sorta) more realistic approach. Vomit mention, canon threat of violence/guns (the Russian guards) Mention of pantsing/past bullying, Steve and Robin’s drugged asses not understanding personal space, Dustin’s canon...Im gonna go with assholishness? but like, I think its more than he’s a young kid and doesn't quite have the emotional growth/awareness yet in this kind of insane situation to know how to react to the whole address/torture bit (really who does)/its a defense mechanism--and Gareth sort of has a panic attack.

Whatever the hell they had been drugged with, Steve and Robin went from 'giggly happy fun time' to 'vomiting into toilet bowls while loudly wishing for death’ awfully fast.

Gareth was not an expert on drugs. He knew Eddie wasn't either (the guy never dealt anything stronger than your average psychedelic--had some agreement with his Uncle about only selling "the 70s basics") and repeated looks towards him proved Eddie was still trying to figure out what Steve and Robin were on.

Answers hadn't exactly been forthcoming--Eddie's gently made attempts at ferreting out information had only caused more confusion.

Like why the two of them were so freaked out about a gate, or what had made Robin gasp, and then laugh so hard she cried when Steve had made a particularly rough noise then muttered; "Even that sounds better than Tammy Thompson."

Either way, Gareth was mostly trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do, because sobering up in a busy, public mall wasn't exactly the best idea.

"I regret," Robin tried to say, in-between gagging. "I regret--hrk--"

"Me too." Steve moaned, head resting against the stall wall. Gareth, still caught up in panic, had been permanently regulated to door guard while Eddie alternated between sweet talking, rubbing backs and offering quietly whispered advice.

"Let's go back in time and ignore the whole silver cat thing." Robin continued, slumping back down onto the floor.

"Wouldn't have mattered." Steve muttered. "Dustin would have figured it out without us. Kid’s too damn smart."

"So?" Robin grumbled, quietly thanking Eddie as he once again brushed her hair out of her face.

"So he would have gone down there anyway, which means I'd be down there anyway." Steve concluded. "We shouldn't have gotten you involved though."

He shakily pushed himself up, staggering to his feet and looking like bambi on ice while doing it.

Eddie quickly came round to offer his help, hands spread as Steve groaned out a curse and clutched his head.

The older took a step forward right as Steve lurched back, unbalanced and shaky.

"Oh shit." He said, eyes wide as he crashed backwards into Eddie, the latter catching him with a grunt.

Despite the entire situation, Gareth found himself stifling a laugh as Eddie wrapped his noodle arms around Steve's chest, trying to hold the other up without falling himself.

"Come on big boy, why don't we just siiiit back down." Eddie said, slightly breathless as he helped guide Steve back to the floor. "There we go…"

They did so outside the bathroom stall, Eddie sinking into a kneel as Steve sort of flopped down on top of him.

Blinked a few times, like the drop had rattled what little sense he’d managed to recover in the last few minutes.

A pleased noise came out of his cousin's throat, and holy shit was Gareth going to have blackmail for life, because rather than vacate Eddie's lap, Steve just turned around in it.

Reached up with one finger outstretched and proved himself to be very much still under the influence as he touched Eddie's nose.

"Boop!" He said, and then giggled as Eddie dropped onto his ass in surprise.

Gareth watched Robin as she took the whole thing in, from Steve's snickers to Eddie's shocked expression, eyes growing wide in excitement.

He failed entirely to cover his own amusement when Eddie abruptly found himself with two sailors invading his personal space, each taking turns to boop his nose.

“Uh.” He managed to get out, blinking rapidly and at a loss for words. “Ah.”

Steve caught the metalhead’s awkward, red-faced expression and proceeded to drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter against the man's vest.

The helpless look his best friend sent him was one Gareth would remember for a long time.

“O-kay.” Eddie said, frazzled, as Steve recovered far too quickly, turning to rest his cheek against a slim shoulder as he walked two fingers up Eddie’s battle vest and towards his hair. Likewise, Robin had discovered Eddie’s wallet chain, and had begun fiddling with it.

One finger curled around a strand of brown hair and Eddie jerked his head, removing the tempting piece away from Steve’s hands.

“I know you’re used to getting whatever you want, your highness.” He said, his own hand smacking against his waist before Robin figured out the other end of his chain ended in a handcuff, “But you of all people should know the hair is off limits.”

Completely undeterred, Steve just gave him a loose, easy grin. “It’s so pretty though.” He complained, fluttering his eyelashes in a blatant attempt to try and turn on the ol’ Harrington charm. “You can touch mine if you want.”

Yeah, Gareth’s blackmail was getting better by the second.

He might even get a new piece for his drum kit out of it, if this kept up.

Free weed too, considering Eddie’s blush was now fire-engine red.

“Man,” Eddie said in a clear bid to deflect the entire situation (and Steve’s fingers) away from his hair, “the last time someone called me pretty was right before I got pantsed—-is Tommy H hiding in one of the stalls again?”

Steve picked his head up, confusion crashing down his face.

“Did he do that?” He asked.

Then, with growing horror; “Do you think I’d do that?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that your whole little court’s M.O.?”

Steve sucked in a breath, looking downright hurt. "I wouldn’t do that." He insisted, eyes wheeling from Eddie to Gareth and back, as though hoping Gareth would back him up.

“I’m not--I’m not friends with Tommy anymore.” Steve continued, voice growing smaller as he spoke. “I’m not friends with anybody anymore, except maybe Dustin.”

It sounded so defeated; trodden on and subdued that Gareth stepped forward automatically, to do--something.

Provide the fucking comfort his cousin was oft denied and hug the guy.

As always, it turned out to be the wrong move.

"Oh thank god." A kid said, seconds after bulldozing through the main door and nearly bowling Gareth over in the process. "I found them!" He shouted over his shoulder as swept into the room.

“Speak of the devil.” Steve said flatly, and even drugged, he managed to pull himself back together from distressed to stoic in mere seconds.

The curly-haired kid--Dustin apparently--stormed right up to the pile of humans splayed on the floor, hands on his hips. "What the hell. We told you two to stay put!"

Steve rolled his eyes as Robin booed him.

“Have you forgotten what’s happening? Or how we’re kinda in a Red Dawn situation?” Dustin continued, looking like he’d just escaped from a summer camp.

The kid even had a walkie talkie clutched in one hand, of all things.

“We know.” Steve and Robin deadpanned at once, before looking at each other; Steve pointing a finger towards Robin and Robin pointing one back.

This caused the kids to trade their own long suffering, “can you believe this shit” faces.

"We need to go, and the only way we’re gonna get out of here unnoticed is if we blend in with the crowd." Dustin said impatiently. “Now come on Steve, get up already, you've had worse.”

"I really don't think I have." Steve muttered, but moved to push himself to his feet anyway.

Eddie beat him to it, and he and Gareth both hovered nearby in case Steve was still unsteady.

Thankfully, the kids' presence seemed to sober up Robin and Steve both.

Not actually sober, that wasn't how drugs worked, but whatever was left of the fun was sucked right out of the bathroom, replaced by two teenagers who were sort of functional on whatever they'd been drugged with.

Stress and adrenaline, Gareth knew, could overcome a lot of things. Including Russian "truth serum" apparently.

“Yeah well you're lucky you got found by these guys and not anyone else. " Dustin continued pointedly, before turning his attention towards Gareth and Eddie both. "Thanks for watching our friends, but we've got them from here."

Gareth made a sort of unhinged, disbelieving noise.

“No, no you do not.” He declared, anxiety clawing at his gut at the mere thought of abandoning Steve to two children.

"I don't think you heard him." The girl stepped forward, braids swinging about her face as she lifted her chin and nailed him with a cold glare.

As if this entire situation couldn’t possibly get weirder, Gareth suddenly realized she had a helmet in her hands and knee pads on.

"He said we got this. So scram." She flicked her fingers out in a dismissive sort of "shoo" gesture.

"And leave my drugged cousin with his new girlfriend behind!?" Gareth challenged right back, emotions far too raw and frayed to care he was snarling at a little girl. "I don’t think so!”

"Cousin!?" Dustin bit out, sounding almost betrayed for some reason, at the same time Robin who'd been climbing to her feet with Eddie’s help, shouted; "I am not his girlfriend!"

Steve, clearly unwilling to entertain whatever fight was brewing, clapped his hands together.

"Yes cousin, Dustin. It's a type of family member." Steve said, after they all flinched and looked to him. He at least looked steadier on his feet this time, though Gareth still lingered nearby in case he took a wrong step.

"I know what a cousin is, Steve!" Dustin shot back.

“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?” Steve complained, and Gareth got to watch in real time as Steve pulled on the persona he often wore in high school down around him. “You said it yourself, we don’t have a lot of time. Worse, I don't know if anyone saw Gareth and Munson here with us.”

He jerked a thumb sideways in Eddie’s direction, not that anyone couldn’t figure out who “Munson” was.

“They stay with us until we’re out of this mall.” Steve finished, before he started towards the door.

One step he was Gareth’s cousin, drugged and vulnerable because of it.

The next he stood taller, talked smoother, took charge with an aurora that said he expected everyone to listen to him.

It was fake as hell, but it worked.

“I know you’ve got a plan Dustin, so spill it.” He commanded as he walked.

Dustin, despite all the squawking, did just that.

xXx

Of all the things Gareth had expected to see upon escorting their little ragtag crew out of the bathroom, groups of intimidating, mean looking assholes wasn’t on the list.

He found himself repeatedly nudging Eddie in the ribs, unable to take his eyes off what was clearly a checkpoint as he staggered to a halt.

It was one thing to be told people were after Steve and the “Scoop’s Troop” As Robin had jokingly named them.

It was another entirely to see the security guard directly in front of him look over a woman’s ID before apologizing to her, a sleazy grin matching his oily pony-tail as he waved her on.

They really were looking for someone.

Not someone, Gareth realized in dawning horror.

Them.

Robin apparently, came to the same conclusion seconds later, because she snatched Steve and Dustin’s arms both, hauling them backwards.

“Argue about Dustin’s address later, we need to find a different way out.” She hissed quietly as she tried to slowly reversed direction, movements still a bit sloppy.

She might have even gotten away with it, had Sleazy Pony-Tail not turned and made eye contact with Gareth right after she spoke.

His eyes swept over him, then to the rest of the group, freezing like a cat that had spotted its prey.

“Abort, abort!” Dustin sputtered, wheeling about on his heel.

Erica, whose name Gareth had learned when she kicked him in the shin after he asked why an actual infant was running around with Steve and Robin, pointed towards the escalators before she beelined over to it, ducking into the center and riding it down like a slide.

Something Eddied was downright delighted to copy.

Gareth might have enjoyed it himself, had he not been looking over his shoulder to see not one, not two, but four security guards giving chase--and gaining.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckikity fuck.” He heard Robin chant as she shot past, Steve planting himself at the top as he made sure everyone got down to the next level before sliding down himself.

"Do not let them leave!" One of the guards yelled to the others, accent clear as a bell.

"Holy shit that guy's actually Russian." Gareth found himself saying as he skidded across the floor and bolted after the others, Steve hot on his heels.

He had kinda expected the Russian thing to be some sort of drug influenced inside joke and not an actual, honest-to-God Soviet.

Which led to the question of why the fuck adult men in security uniforms had drugged random teenage retail workers.

Food workers.

Whatever the fuck one called a two people who scooped ice-cream in sailor costumes.

"There's another group up ahead!" Eddie yelped, swerving sideways and nearly taking Erica out while doing it.

Noise erupted ahead of them in the form of foreign shouting and loud, harshly barked commands to “Freeze!”

‘Oh hell no.’ Gareth thought wildly, as he caught the form of the giant fricken gun the guard closest to him held.

“Split up!” Dustin howled, and before anyone could comment about how bad an idea that was, Gareth found himself being yanked sideways.

Steve swore loudly behind him as Robin, who’d crashed backwards, pulled him in the opposite direction and in a second their group broke in two. Gareth, Eddie and Dustin going one way, Steve, Robin and Erica another.

"This isn’t happening." Gareth muttered, words made in a sort of pleading denial as he and Eddie turned the corner and immediately vaulted over the counter of an Orange Julius. “I smoked or drank or did something and this is a hallucination that is not. Actually. Happening.”

Dustin at least, was smart enough to dive around the counter instead of over it, sliding towards them on his knees.

Eddie quickly yanked him down to the floor in-between himself and Gareth once he was close enough to grab, one hand going over the hat to shove the kids head down.

Annoying or not, he was at least several years younger than them, and Gareth could practically feel Eddie’s protective instinct kick in as he kept his hand on Dustin’s head.

Together they tried to silence their breathing as the guards’ shouting continued on behind them.

What was worse than their noises though, was when they unexpectedly and suddenly, went silent.

Gareth’s breath felt far too loud as the stillness gained a suppressive weight, pressing down harshly against him and making it harder and harder to inhale.

‘Panic attack.’ He realized, thoughts a touch detached. ‘You can’t afford to have a panic attack right now.’

Not when it had a high chance of getting them all killed.

Slowly he moved his own free hand, placing it atop of Eddie’s, fingers gripping down in a way that was no doubt painful.

Eddie glanced over to him and Gareth thanked every single time he’d smoked way too much weed, because his best friend immediately clocked what was wrong.

Turned his hand over, so that Gareth could hold onto it atop Dustin’s hat.

It didn’t help with the knowledge that his very much still drugged cousin and his equally drugged not-girlfriend were also hiding somewhere, or that there was significantly more Russians than there where terrified teenagers (and one--whatever age Erica was.)

Flashlights cut shapes into the wall overheard, trailing along the Orange Julius menu. Quiet voices covered even quieter footsteps and Gareth had the sudden realization the probability of there being more than one guard carrying a huge gun, was very, very high.

Worse?

This part of the mall wasn’t that big. There were only so many places to hide, and as such, only so many places to look.

Death comes for everyone eventually, but Gareth hadn’t exactly expected it to show up before he hit twenty.

Not that they could do anything but wait. Pray to God and the universe and any other higher power he could think of to intervene, head pressed hard against the wood behind him as the small noises drew nearer.

What he hadn’t expected was for said prayers to get answered in the form of a of a fucking car being thrown into the Russian’s like bowling balls.

“Run!” Dustin shouted, and Gareth wasted absolutely no time in doing just that.

The only goal on his mind was to find Steve, get out, and then have a very long discussion about what the hell this all was, in that exact order.

#fun fic facts I kept writing Orange Julius as King Julian #so thats my new fake 80s store #Tagline can be “yay I’m a sacrifice!”#Pre steddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth emerson #platonic stobin #gareth is eddies robin #gareth is steves cousin #gareth and steve cousin au #Poor Dustin is mad jelly steve has a cousin that isnt him #we will dig into that later #tw drugs #tw vomit #tw guns #tw panic attack #Steve and robin have already had their scene I just moved it back so he is aware she is a lesbian #I will make it clearer in the next part #Drugged steve has no personal boundaries and homeboy would not at this point consider the stuff wit heddie flirting with Robin ALSO #digs into later #that was gay steve #HELLA gay #the more robin gets to know steve the more shes convinced half the basketball team is queer af #0o0 fanfics #denial is a river in Egypt that Gareth is struggling to swim down

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mountainficss · 3 months ago

Note

thoughts on making subby hao cry from edging ?

!! mentions of: sub!minghao, edging, dacryphilia, handjobs

i love the idea of a subby minghao :( it’s forever my favorite concept. just the thought of his pretty face scrunched up in pleasure ugh.

minghao is so well behaved, he’d genuinely try his absolute hardest to just let you use him as you please. he’d let you run your hands over his body teasingly, avoiding the places he wants you to touch the most. he’d let you kiss down the expanse of his neck, trying not to get too worked up when he feels your soft lips on his skin. he’d let you wrap your soft hands around his twitching cock, attempting not to cum from the mere sensation of it. it would be hard for him of course; any little touch from you would send jolts of excitement and arousal through his body. but it would be even harder for him when you continue to deny him of his orgasms, ripping his high away from him every time he gets close. you’d stroke him teasingly for a while, then unexpectedly pick up the pace, practically throwing him over the edge every time. you know his body too well though. so once you can tell he’s close, you’d completely remove your hand from his length. he’d take it well the first few times you edged him, although chasing your hand with his hips in a desperate attempt for more. but once you reach the fourth or fifth time, you’d see his eyes start to glisten. his pretty orbs would well with unshed tears, and he’d tug his bottom lip between his teeth. “what’s wrong, hao? close?” you’d question teasingly, tightening your grip around his erection just to see him squirm. he wouldn’t be able to hold the tears back after a while, and fat teardrops would involuntarily roll down his flushed cheeks. the wet streaks would stain his face, making him look oh-so sweet and fucked out. “y-yeah, but—‘s okay,” he’d lie, wanting you to use him to your heart’s content. “i can ta—ngh—i can take it.” you’d just grin at him, loosening your grip on him once again and receiving a whine in response. “i know,” you’d state simply.

he wouldn’t be able to take it though, after you had edged him for what seemed like the millionth time, he’d begin to beg and plead. “please! p-please let me c-cum,” he’d stutter, words slurring together between his desperate cries. the tears would refuse to cease, wetting minghao’s face as he bucks his hips up towards you. “can’t—can’t take it a-anymore…” the poor baby would be so desperate to cum anywhere, whether it be inside you, in your mouth, or just in your hands. he didn’t care where, as long as you let him finish. you would find it more fun to push him to his limit though, edging him until he physically can’t hold in his pleasure anymore <3

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

#thoughts #seventeen smut #seventeen #smut #svt smut #sub!idol #svt #xu minghao #minghao #minghao smut #mountainficss

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crushribbons · 4 months ago

Text

𝓋𝑜𝓌

summary: Ominis Gaunt never makes promises he can't keep.

cw: 4k words, angst, SMUT (18+ ONLY), arranged marriage, technically cheating ig but not really, penetrative sex, fingering, vv small breeding kink, horrible family dynamics, fem reader. request

a/n: for jas 🤍 xx laney

Her eyes kept drifting over to him across the crowded room. Dozens of people flitted through the restaurant, stopping in front of her table to congratulate her and make her stomach churn with nerves, but there was only one man that she truly wanted to talk to.

He hadn’t come over to the happy couple yet, too absorbed in stirring his untouched drink with the tip of his finger. His lips were pursed like he’d just smelled something unpleasant. Blonde hair swept away from his face carefully, he looked every bit like the sophisticate he was known to be.

But she knew so much more of Ominis Gaunt.

“You’re my everything. The air in my lungs. I need you.”

“Ominis, please, we can’t!”

“You don’t want me to?”

“On the contrary. I want you far too much.”

Someone was talking to her, but her thoughts were a loud rush in her ears and she just smiled up at the buxom, middle-aged woman that was telling her and her betrothed how wonderful the look of young love was. The betrothed in question cleared his throat and gave a thin smile that was more grimace. His back was stiffly upright.

As the woman drifted away, he turned to the girl to his left. “How much longer do I have to put up with this awfulness?” he asked, grit in his jaw.

“Why ask me? Your father is the one who insisted on throwing a party and inviting the entire town, Louis,” she muttered back over the top of her water glass. Louis’ mouth did not soften.

Power, status, and money, disgusting globs of money awaited her after her marriage to this man, and she was trapped, forced to take all of it and wanting none of it. It felt like a slap in the face to those less-privileged for her to be turning her nose up at the comfort and luxury she would enjoy as a Nott, and the guilt wracked her day and night.

When her father had first told her that he would be offering her hand to the oldest Nott boy, she had wept.

“You’ll be taken care of forever, my dear,” her father had cooed, attempting parental concern for her for the first time since her birth by patting her on the back. His hand hardly making contact with her, he coughed awkwardly and continued, “You’ll never want for anything.”

“I don’t want anything, father, except for the chance to pick the person I spend the rest of my life with myself!” she had cried.

She remembered the rest all too vividly: attending a dinner party whose purpose, she had been told, was mere “introductions”, and by the end of the night she had been engaged to the man across the table from her who was gripping his knife and fork and glaring at her as if she’d sabotaged the rest of his life on purpose. Since then, they’d spoken no more than eight words to each other (A squeak of “Lovely dinner” from her on the night of their engagement, and a brusque “You ought to have worn white” from him when she arrived at his manor in a somber black dress to have their marital portrait painted) and when she’d been instructed to arrive at the London restaurant they were currently seated at for a party celebrating their betrothal, she’d cried once more.

When she was a young girl, she used to picture the man she would one day marry. He was always fuzzy, nebulous. Kind, of course, and willing to give her the world. Perhaps an artist or some otherwise creatively-inclined profession. Tall and handsome, but his features never swam into focus when she imagined walking down the aisle of a church to him.

Then, when she was fifteen, she’d met Ominis Gaunt, and the face at the front of the church became perfectly distinct. The demure Slytherin had taken some time to open up to her, but before their sixth year at Hogwarts was over, they were so enamored with one another that she sometimes had to look back at the unclear idea she’d had of love and laugh. It was always Ominis, forever.

Until it wasn’t.

At seventeen, she’d come home to her parents’ estate for the Christmas holiday with stars in her eyes and declared, “I’m in love, and we’re going to get married one day.”

“Really, dear? To whom?” Her mother had absently inquired. The glass of sherry in her hand lolled dangerously from side to side, but she didn’t seem to notice. When she’d told them about Ominis, her father, who until this point had remained silent and uninterested, had guffawed without looking up from the newspaper on his lap and said, “The Gaunts’ sightless little rat? I should like to see you try. That family has gone to the dogs.” Rage boiled up inside her and she opened her mouth to shout, but father had merely held up a hand. “You’re to be married to a strong family when you come of age, and I won’t hear another word about this silly idea of romance you’ve cooked up in your head.”

Since then, there had been a complete moratorium on the topic of Ominis or, indeed, the entire Gaunt family in her household. It killed her very gradually, in ways she didn’t notice until it was too late. She smiled less and less often. The things she used to look forward to, like quiet walks and pumpkin juice and pressing flowers, now seemed as gray as everything else in her life.

After she left Hogwarts for good, they saw each other as often as they could believably make trips to Hogsmeade to meet up. Nervous glances over her shoulder had become a regular part of being with Ominis, but her passion for him outweighed any fear.

Sirona Ryan had become very adept at noticing dust on the bar when certain members of two of the most prominent families in the British wizarding world would dart, breathless, into her inn and throw several more Galleons than necessary down, pleading silently with her for discretion as they took the room key she handed them.

Ominis’ panting ran endlessly around his lover’s mind as she watched people celebrate the end of their relationship.

“Come on, darling, come for me.” “C-can’t–S’too good, Om.”

“No, let me hear it, please. Don’t hold back. It’s all I get to bring home with me.”

The crooked and bent elder Mr. Nott was rising to his feet and knocking the side of his champagne glass with a butter knife. “Excuse me,” he thundered out, his gruff voice making the chattering guests and party-goers at their own tables turn their heads to look at him. “I’d like to say a few words in honor of my son, on this, the night before his wedding.”

Ice clawed up the inside of her body, frozen talons digging into her organs and causing fear to flood her throat. Her breath began coming in short, labored gasps. “What does he mean, the night before?” she hissed to Louis, who ignored her.

Louis wasn’t physically cruel to her, but he made sure to keep her apprised of how unhappy he was with their union. As if she felt any differently.

“To see two great families come together like this,” the elder Nott blustered, “is truly a gift. Not only to us, but to the rest of the wizarding community…”

She didn’t hear a word of the rest of his slimy posturing. The only word ringing around her ears was wedding, wedding, wedding. She’d been told that there would be a long engagement period to Louis, long enough to plaster their union in the Daily Prophet and throw several redundant parties so that everyone in the country was aware of just how much money her family and the Notts really had.

But here she was, two weeks after meeting her frigid fiancé, learning that the glass of water in her hand would be her last as a free woman, and everything inside her was screaming for her to get out. How could they deceive her like this? Not only to be forced into a marriage, but blindsided by the actual wedding before she even had a chance to…

To what? she wondered frantically. To tell Ominis she loved him? He already knew a hundred times over, but as she looked across the room to him, she saw the same hard lines carved into his face that were always present when they had to discuss her betrothal.

“Do you hate me for it?” “Hate you? How could I?” A pause, and a bitter expression settled on his lips. “I hate him.”

“I hate him, too, but I can’t do anything to stop this.”

“We could run.”

“Be serious, Ominis.”

“I am.” She felt his hands close over hers and looked down at them. His were covered in scars and burns, faded and gray with age but still a part of him forever.

“They’d kill you.”

“I’ll be dying either way, my heart.”

Her body ached for Ominis as she watched his jaw tighten further and further with every word Thelonius Nott said. She couldn’t believe he had come to this event. He’d been invited, of course, as had his entire family, but she had hoped for his sake that he would stay away and not have to endure this with her.

When the patriarch lifted his champagne (“To my son,” he said fondly, not sparing a glance at his future daughter-in-law) and commanded the rest of the room to do so, a hundred glasses flew into the air.

Ninety-nine, at least.

She hoped no one would notice the younger Gaunt boy abstaining from the toast, but at the same time, she preened inwardly. Ominis may have been soft-spoken and calculating in what he chose to say, but his actions always broadcasted his feelings.

“Excuse me,” she muttered suddenly, surprising Louis and herself by pushing her chair back and standing up. The rest of the party had gone back to their dessert, so hardly any notice was paid to her as she wove through the tables, save for a few well-wishes tossed at her that she returned with a weak smile. As she passed the Gaunt table, where Ominis’ parents and brothers were talking in low tones, she threw a glance back at the head table that she’d been at, making sure no one could see what she did next.

She tripped, just a quick, stuttered movement orchestrated by stepping on the train of her dress, and grabbed onto Ominis’ chair for support

“Are you alright?” squawked a man behind her that she’d bumped slightly. Before the Gaunts could look up from their plates and notice her standing there, she ran a finger subtly up the back of Ominis’ neck and twirled the small curl of hair on his nape around, just once. It took less than a second, but Ominis stiffened immediately, his breath cutting out and his fork falling to his plate with a clatter.

“Please,” she whimpered under her breath, quiet enough so that no one but him heard her.

She felt him before she saw him.

“Om–” He cut her off and pressed her to the brick wall of the alley behind the restaurant, where she’d fled after stopping at his table. She hoped he’d had the good sense to wait a few beats before following her, but she also knew the effect that her touch had on him. She’d been rubbing his neck like that since they were sixteen, a silent way to let him know that she was next to him, with him, there for him.

It didn’t hurt that it also drove him wild.

She knew it was a horrible idea. Sneaking out of her engagement party to fuck another man when her fiancé’s family had people killed for much less, but her mind was such a whirlwind of fear and anxiety and the only thing she wanted was the feel of Ominis’ mouth against hers. Her constant, her grounding.

“Don’t do this,” he was moaning into her lips, grinding his hips against hers as she clutched at his suit like she would float away if she didn’t. “I’ll never stop needing you, so please–” “I don’t want to!” she gasped. Tears were pooling in her eyes, and she was grateful for a moment that Ominis could not see them. “More than anything, I want to be with you, you know that.”

“Then let me take you away from here.” Ominis felt around the back of her dress to determine how best to remove it. She swatted his hands away and took his face in her hands. Words wouldn’t come to her. All she wanted was to look at him like this, desperate and frazzled, his perfect silver hair already tousled. His pale eyes saw her in a way no sighted person ever had.

She pulled him into a kiss, softer and sweeter than before, and he groaned and pulled his fingers through her hair, inadvertently combing it, and she hiccuped a small giggle.

“You can’t help but take care of me, can you, Mr. Gaunt?”

“I can’t, Mrs. Gaunt.”

Hearing the title fall from his lips made her heart soar and plummet in the same breath.

“Don’t say that,” she pleaded as he began kissing his way down her neck to the top of her cleavage. They’d talked about marriage, of course they had, but that had been lifetimes ago, when they were happy young things who didn’t know what cruelty life had in store for them. She’d even once filled a piece of parchment with the words “Madame Gaunt” in elegant flourishes, and when Ominis had found it in her school bag, he hadn’t stopped smiling for a week. After he’d finished teasing her, naturally.

“I won’t call you anything else,” he promised stubbornly.

A shriek of laughter came from inside the restaurant, followed by a tinkle of broken glass. The noise shattered their isolated little bubble and they both stared at the back door they’d used to enter the alley. “They’ll notice me gone,” she whispered, feeling suddenly small underneath Ominis’ tall, lean body. “Or someone will walk out here and find us and–”

Ominis never gave her orders, preferring instead to worship the ground she walked on, but as he knelt down to grasp the hem of her dress, he said, “Stop it. Be quiet. If this is my last night with you, I won’t let anyone take it away from me.” He pulled the dress up so it bunched around her waist and slithered one hand inside her undergarments, and any protestations that she might have made fell off her lips, dead.

His long fingers slid on top of her clit and rubbed them like he had all the leisure time in the world. Her core flooded, soaked after mere seconds with him, and the feeling made Ominis’ head drop to rest against her forehead.

“Let me ask you once more,” he breathed.

“No.”

“Please.”

“Ominis, they–” Her words were cut off as he pushed two fingers inside her and pumped slowly.

“Let me ask,” he said again, and this time, it was not a request.

Pleasure was wringing her out and weakening the little resolve she had. “Ask me,” she consented with a whimper.

“Run away with me. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go, show you anything you want to see, and we’ll be together.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her. It wasn’t the second; in fact, she’d lost count of how many times he had begged and pleaded with her to flee their lives and go somewhere where they could live as they wanted. It had become his way of saying “I love you.”

It was everything she wanted, and she would never do it. She still remembered when her father had found her holding a letter from Ominis and ripped it out of her grasp.

“If I see you anywhere near that boy or having anything to do with him, I’ll kill him,” he had growled as he ripped Ominis’ words to shreds and threw them into the fireplace. “And Thelonius Nott will do a lot worse, you can count on that.”

“Ominis, I can’t, I just can’t,” she sobbed, half in anguish and half in pleasure as he continued fucking her with his fingers and mouthing along her flushed neck. “I swear, I want nothing more, but I won’t put you in danger.” His hand slowed, but he said nothing. The white heat twisting itself in a coil in her stomach threatened to unravel and she whimpered.

“I don’t care about any of that,” Ominis said. He pulled out of her and stuck the two fingers covered in her wetness into her mouth. Her own taste against her tongue made her moan shamelessly, and Ominis drank the sound down like the finest wine. He pulled her into another kiss, and she felt his erection grind against her core. A sudden thought floated into her lust-hazy head and she pushed hard against his shoulders to stop his kiss.

“You know, I don’t know much about Louis Nott, but I know how he likes his women,” she said, gritting her jaw in annoyance at her intended.

She could tell that her lover bristled at the mention of Nott, but he raised his eyebrows. “And how does he like them?”

“Thirty galleons for the night.” He sucked in a breath that might have been a laugh in any other situation. “Darling, I may have to read vows that someone else wrote tomorrow,” she continued, nerves making her shake slightly, “But let me make my own now, please.” Ominis furrowed his brow.

She took a deep breath. Ominis’ face was still there, in that church in her mind, but that church was now a brick-paved alleyway behind a restaurant in Diagon Alley. The only guests were a few curious rodents that kept their distance and the only decor were some potholes filled with water from the rain that afternoon and a streetlamp whose flame spluttered feebly every few seconds.

And it was perfect.

Taking his hands in hers, she took a deep breath and released it. “Ominis Gaunt, I will love you with everything inside me until the day I leave this earth to meet you again in heaven.” Ominis was silent, or maybe speechless. “And…”

She took his right hand by the wrist and pressed it against her heart, which was hammering wildly. “No other man will ever have my body. It’s yours.”

“It’s yours,” Ominis replied, and the simple statement made her choke. It wasn’t true, never had been. Since birth, she’d been used as cannon fodder in her family’s war for power. For anyone to give her autonomy felt like being a timid, scared little bird released from its cage for the first time. She leaned in to kiss him, but he sensed her nearness and held a hand in front of his lips that hers landed against, and she gave a small grunt of frustration.

“My turn now,” he whispered. He bit his lip, pulling it through his teeth for a long second as he considered something. Then, in one fluid motion, he pressed her back against the wall, pulled her underwear down her waist, pulled his aching and dripping cock from his trousers, and grabbed at her thighs. With a little yelp, she realized what he was doing and accommodated him, wrapping her legs around his waist. His hard cock pressed at her entrance and the two panted with desperation for a moment. Ominis seemed to be fighting the urge to fuck her before he got his words out.

“You are my heart. Every day, when I wake up, I thank the gods for giving me you, and then I curse them for taking you away.” She couldn’t make a sound, wound too tightly by the desire to feel him inside her. “There is nothing in this world that could keep me away from you, except at your word.” His cadence was that of a prayer, and as she was considering what he said, he pushed his cock into her, holding her ass to guide himself inside, and the two moaned in mutual pleasure. He was so thick, so full inside her, and when he began moving, bouncing her back against the wall with one hand braced up beside her glistening face, her mouth fell open.

“Fuck, darling,” she cried. “I–fuck, I love you so much.”

The extraordinarily touch-sensitive Ominis couldn’t continue his vows for a long while, clearly too caught up in the feeling of her cunt wrapped around him. His mouth was agape as well, and his cloudy eyes were wild and frantic. He fucked her slow, then fast, then slow again, dragging himself in and out in agonizing torture and muttering in drunken reverence about how tight she was.

“Even if I never see you again, not an ounce of my love will be found missing,” he swore through his teeth once he was able to speak again. “And if you ever crave the freedom they all deny you, I will give it to you in an instant. We’ll run, anywhere, and we’ll do it hand-in-hand, my heart.” His thrusts were losing rhythm, the extra flood of slick from her core making him slip out of her a few times, but he righted himself and tried to give her everything he was promising. The feeling of slamming down on his cock was enough to drive her senseless. The muted sounds of their fucking filled the alleyway and echoed off the damp brick wall.

He reached down between their intertwined, sweating bodies and pressed one torturing finger against her clit as he muttered, “My fucking perfect wife.” An orgasm tore through her like a wildfire and she screamed, so hard that Ominis shoved his extra hand into her mouth so she could bite it and silence herself. He supported her with just his hips as he rubbed her clit gently through the blaze. Her teeth were still sunk in his hand when he came with a groan and a sigh, thrusting his load languidly inside her.

If she’d been able to notice anything, she might have noticed that it seemed Ominis was more than usually determined to fuck every drop into her and make sure it stayed there. After several minutes of panting and murmured kisses and affection while Ominis leaned against her, he pulled off and out of her, and she slumped to the ground before he caught her, his own legs looking slightly wobbly, as well. He felt her dress and hair, smoothing any wrinkles and knots his fingers found.

“You really won’t sleep with him?” he asked her in a small voice she’d never heard before, and her eyes flew to his to see a vulnerable and heartbroken Ominis she wasn’t familiar with.

It was a very easy promise to make. “As long as I have any say in it,” she whispered back, pressing their foreheads together once more and drawing a tiny, hopeful smirk to his lips. “I don’t think it will be much of a problem, though.”

“Oh? Why is that?”

“I charge thirty-five galleons for the night.” She held out an open palm and tapped him in the chest with it so he knew that she was waiting for payment. Ominis actually laughed, and the sound bolstered her. The prospect of walking down the aisle to meet Louis tomorrow seemed significantly less terrifying now.

“We ought to get you back inside,” he said, but before she could agree and wonder at how long the two had been gone, Ominis had scooped her into his arms, ignoring her cry and giggle, and drew an invisible line on the ground with his toe.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“The doorstep,” he replied simply, and carried her over it.

masterlist

#PHEW FIRST OMI FIC THAT WAS SCARY!!!!#big ol ty to miss Haveawhile for helping me sm with this labor of love!!! xx #ominis gaunt fic #ominis gaunt x reader #hogwarts legacy fic #ominis gaunt x oc #laneywrites

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angelpregdreams · 4 months ago

Text

maggie the midwife (1)

I made a midwife oc forever ago, and wanted to finally write some things for her, expect her to return in future birth scenes c;

content: fpreg, birth

Behind her, Maggie heard her charge groan in pain. Currently, the midwife was dunking her hands in a bowl of warm water, knowing it was almost time to check the progress the babe was making, if the mother was so inclined. Maggie doubted that would change much since the last time she asked, but if the babe lingered too long, they both might be in danger soon.

“Well, Ida, what do you want to do? The contractions haven't changed much in the last hour.” Maggie asked Ida, the other woman laboring loudly, standing beside the edge of her bed. Ida grunted, her head thrown back as she came down from the height of her pain.

“I do-don’t want…” Ida mumbled, before groaning and giving Maggie a lingering, dirty look, “b-but the child is impatient.”

Maggie knew that was the stubborn woman’s relenting and permission, Ida was nothing if not constant, and her blaming the babe for what the midwife must do was especially common as of late. Nodding in solidarity, Maggie came over to the woman, leaning behind her and placing her hands on her hips, rubbing a bit to ease the pressure that grew between Ida’s hips as she got closer to pushing.

“Children often are, especially babies,” Maggie remarked quietly, the other woman groaning as the next contraction took control over her. She waited for Ida to relax just a bit before slipping one hand over the laboring woman’s swollen opening. Her vagina was puffy and warm in her hand and Maggie coaxed her to relax so she could prod her fingers inside of her to check dilation. Her fingers wiggled slightly, before bumping something fleshy and slick.

Eyes wide, and thankful Ida couldn’t see her, Maggie quickly regained control and pulled her fingers out. “Babe is about to crown, Ida. With your next pain I want you to push.”

Ida groaned loudly but nodded, her hips rocking under Maggie’s grip as she breathed and waited for the next contraction to overtake her. Behind her, the midwife adjusted herself to be able to fully look up at Ida’s swollen cunt from behind, seeing the flesh bulge and fluid leak between her hairy lips.

“Ohhh…” Ida moaned, bucking her hips awkwardly and throwing her head back, “it’s coming!”

“Good girl,” Maggie cooed, rubbing her hips and giving the woman a smile she couldn’t see, “push!”

Moans and groans turned into long cries as Ida pushed down, straining with the pain. Her fold bulged outward, a squirt of fluid landing on the rug underneath her as Maggie urged her on, “yes! Just like that, breathe when the pain eases.”

The rhythm of Ida’s labor settled comfortably as she continued to push with her contractions. The child in her was large, bigger than Maggie had thought the woman capable of carrying. Suddenly she was very aware that she did not know who the father was and she had never bothered to ask the birthing woman, and Ida had never bothered to say anything either. Gnawing on her cheek, Maggie watched as a sliver of the head appeared but quickly retreated as the pain eased.

“F-Fuck! It’s so big,” Ida cried, her chest heaving as she struggled to remain still. She rocked her hips in Maggie’s grip, “I need to move.”

Sensing her primal urge, Maggie sat back and let Ida adjust as needed. The other woman groaned and dropped into a deep squat next to the bed and began to push, barely leaving enough time for the midwife to drop deep enough behind her to see the head rush into a wide crown in between Ida’s swollen folds. The woman screamed, and she paused for a split second to catch her breath where the head sat at her entrance and did not recede again.

Maggie smiled again, awkward behind Ida as she tried to keep an eye on the progress while able to support the mother. “Keep going, just like that.”

“A-ahhhh!” She continued to scream as the pain came over her again and pushed. A small gush of fluid dribbled around the head, joining the rest of the fluid on the now stained rug, the head lurching into an even wider crown as Maggie watched in awe. She had never seen a head quite so big. Her training kicked in and as Ida stretched wider than both of them thought possible, Maggie reached out and cupped the woman’s straining sex. “Too big!”

Unable to say anything to that, the midwife simply let her scream and cry, her pushing was the most important thing and she was doing wonderfully.

The head strained at the widest point, holding Ida open until finally her pussy lips gave and the head lurched out into Maggie’s hand. A huge gush of fluid covered the head and her hand, flooding the rug as Ida cried out in relief.

There was no way the child’s father was not a giant, even by human standards. The massive head hung between Ida’s thighs, her pussy leaking massive amounts of birth fluid as she sobbed and waited for her next contraction.

Maggie supported the head, still awkwardly behind Ida and leaning slightly under her leaking, swollen cunt to keep her support right. Small price to pay for mother and baby to be comfortable.

Surprisingly, with the next pain, Ida pushed and the child practically dropped out of her and into Maggie’s waiting hands.

“Yes! Good girl,” Maggie joined in Ida’s crying, bringing the babe up between the woman’s legs and up to her bare chest. The babe wiggled uncomfortably and Ida instinctively rubbed the child’s back and heard a cough, then a cry. The midwife smiled, excited to see her birth turn out well, “there we go! You did so amazing, Ida.”

#birth kink #birth fiction #fpreg birth #fpreg #giving birth #labor kink #birthing kink #preggophilia #preggo kink #pregnant angel thoughts #maggie the midwife chronicles

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domnamewoman · 1 year ago

Note

I was wondering if I could request an angst we’re all of the MK 2023 characters S/O get turned injured severely by Titian Shang Tsung (could have a happy end, could not…up too you!)

Characters: Liu Kang, Raiden, Kung Lao, Johnny Cage, Kenshi Takahashi, Kitana, Mileena, Tanya, Sub-Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile, Baraka, Shang Tsung, Rain

Warnings: Angst 😭, Canon-Typical Violence

Masterlist

Requests Are Open

Liu Kang’s heart stopped as he saw your body lying there, lifeless on the ground. He bent down to cradle you in his arms as tears fell from his eyes. He couldn’t believe it, the love of his life was now gone. He blamed himself for not getting there in time. Why was fate always so cruel, was he really destined to be alone? No, no he wouldn’t accept it. He was the Keeper of Time. He would reverse time and make sure that he is here to prevent such a horrid outcome. He would end Titan Shang Tsung once and for all.

Raiden felt as though he could throw up as he looked at your unconscious body lying in the bed. Titan Shang Tsung had blasted you off a cliff and you hit your head on a rock when you landed. The physician told Raiden that you were in a coma from the head injury. There was no telling when you would wake up or if you ever would. Raiden held your hand and rested his forehead on it as he let his tears fall. All he could do was stay by your side and wait. And he would, even if it was forever.

Kung Lao was angry. At himself for not being there, at the physicians for not being able to save you, but mostly at Titan Shang Tsung. He was the cause of all of this. Kung Lao placed one last kiss on your lips as he promised you to get revenge. He would stop at nothing to see Titan Shang Tsung taken down. He pushed his grief to the side and focused on making a plan to get to Titan Shang Tsung. He would grieve once his promise to you was fulfilled.

Johnny Cage struggled to find meaning in anything anymore. Without you, there just wasn’t any point to life for Johnny. Who cared about the movies, or the awards, or even saving Earthrealm from destruction? He couldn’t bring you back by doing any of it so he deemed it all useless. Johnny stopped trying, losing his arrogance and bravado. How great is “Johnny Cage” if he can’t even save his love? He was nothing but a failure in his eyes now and that’s how he would live.

Kenshi Takahashi felt all the joy in his life slipping away as he felt your blood slip through his fingers where he was applying pressure to your wound. He tried to smile and reassure you that the physician was on their way and you would make it out alive but he knew it was too late. He knelt there, helpless as you exhaled your final breath, going completely limp. Kenshi sat there with you in his arms for hours, pushing away Johnny and Kung Lao as they tried to get him to let you go. He couldn’t, not ever.

Kitana released a scream as she heard your neck snap at the hands of Titan Shang Tsung. Why? Why did it have to be you to charge at him? Why didn’t you listen to her when she told you to wait? Why couldn’t she move fast enough to prevent this from happening? Kitana gripped your shirt and cried into your chest as the fight continued around her. How was she supposed to go on? But she had to, for you. It’s what you would have wanted her to do. She vows to you as she grabs her bladed fans that she will avenge your death.

Mileena spent all of her time trying to find someone to help you. She was the Empress and she would spare no cost of getting the best physicians, the best medicine, whatever was needed to accelerate your healing process. The court could be mad all they wanted, but she didn’t care about her duties. Her only priority right now was seeing you healthy and back on your feet again. The only thing that could distract her from this is any updates on Titan Shang Tsung’s whereabouts. She would make sure that he died by her hands for harming her love.

Tanya watched in unbelief as Titan Shang Tsung stuck his claws deep into your abdomen. You crumpled to the ground, coughing up blood. Tanya rushed over and held you in her arms. She didn’t know how could she let this happen. She was Umgadi for goodness sake. And yet, she could protect her love from danger. She pulled you out of the path of battle, making sure you were as comfortable as you could be as she applied pressure to your wounds. She would make sure that you survived no matter what.

Bi-Han was filled with rage. Titan Shang Tsung dared to take his love away from him. How could Bi-Han call himself Earthrealm’s protector when he couldn’t even protect you? No, he would make Titan Shang Tsung pay for what he did. Bi-Han would gather all of the Lin Kuei and hunt him down. No longer was their purpose protecting Earthrealm. Their only mission was to kill Titan Shang Tsung to avenge the death of his lover. Nothing else mattered or was more important to him.

Kuai Liang couldn’t control the fire rolling off of his body as he saw you there unmoving, at Titan Shang Tsung’s feet. He rushed toward him, swinging out his chained knives aiming for his head. Kuai Liang fought with everything in him, letting his anger fuel his fire. He didn’t worry about his own well-being, what was the point now that you were gone? He ignored all the pain from his injuries and pressed on. He would put an end to Titan Shang Tsung, or he would die trying.

Tomas ran with all his might holding on to your limp body. He had to get you to a physician and quick. He couldn’t, no, he wouldn’t lose another family member. After his family was killed and he joined the Lin Kuei, he thought he would never have to go through heartache like that again. He couldn’t imagine a world without you. He pleaded with you to stay with him as he looked down at you taking shallow breaths. He ignored the burning in his legs and he pushed himself to run faster. He won’t lose you too.

Syzoth didn’t believe what they told him when he arrived at the palace. How could you be dead? It wasn’t possible. While he was out on a mission Titan Shang Tsung attacked? No, no that couldn’t be. He continued to deny it until they brought him to see your body. This couldn’t be happening to him again. Why could he never protect his loved ones? Why did he always have to be left completely alone? He will get his revenge. He will take away everything that Titan Shang Tsung has ever held dear.

Baraka knew that fate could be cruel when he got infected with Tarkat. But he thought he would be allowed some form of happiness in his life. That proved to be wrong when you were killed, leaving him all alone. Baraka could feel his sanity slipping. He was left with nothing yet again. The only one he loved was taken from him. All he could think about was shredding Titan Shang Tsung into pieces. He would turn into the savage beast everyone thought he was. He had nothing more to lose.

Shang Tsung couldn’t believe you were killed. To make matters worse, it was at the hands of his doppelganger. Shang Tsung would question what type of person he was for there to be a version of himself out there that would commit such a heinous act. Shang Tsung would practice all the sorcery in the world to find a way to bring you back. He didn’t care how many souls he had to steal. Starting with the soul of Titan Shang Tsung. He would prove that he was the best version in all timelines.

Zeffeero dropped to his knees in front of your lifeless body. What was it all for? He spent all his time trying to get power and status and for what? Just for the beloved to no longer be a part of his life? Zeffeero looked up, no one seemed to notice you, the most important person to him, lying on the cold ground. No, they didn’t get to go on with their lives like nothing happened. He would ruin their lives just like his now was. He would rain down an endless flood and drown them all.

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queensunshinee · 6 months ago

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Time Of Our Lives || Part 1

Part 1:

When they were kids, Liana and Art didn't like each other. To be more precise, they couldn't stand each other. They were born in the same month, and because their parents were such good friends, they always celebrated their birthdays together. Since Art was born two weeks after her and his grandmother firmly believed that one should not celebrate in advance, Liana never celebrated her birthday on its actual date, and that was a good enough reason to hate Art Donaldson forever.

When they were 7 years old (or more precisely, he was seven, and she was seven and two weeks), Art received his first tennis racket, and Liana got a small skateboard with a Pokémon design. He cried. Of course, he cried; everything Liana had, Art wanted too. He didn't know how to share anything, and eventually, Liana was forced to let him use her skateboard whenever they met, which unfortunately was at least once a week.

"You don't even know how to ride it," she tried to instill some logic into the blonde boy. "Do you?" he asked curiously. "Not yet, but I'll learn, duh," she rolled her eyes at him. "Then I'll learn too," he shrugged and went to wash his face, returning a few minutes later as if nothing had happened.

Only those who knew Art well understood what Liana knew - he was a crybaby who was never satisfied with what he already had. His friends passed around the racket he received as if it were a chocolate cake while he continued to glance at Liana, who was trying to balance on the skateboard and nearly fell.

At the age of 12, Art was accepted into the fancy tennis boarding school he couldn't stop talking about to anyone who would listen (even those who wouldn't), and Liana was the first to arrive at the party held in his honor. She was so excited. As far as she was concerned, Art wouldn't be coming back. There was a high chance that now, with him gone, she could convince his parents that it wasn't worth maintaining him at home. He was too much of a headache, and they were too good-hearted to keep enduring his presence.

Instead of that happening, he came back with a curly-haired addition named Patrick Zweig. They shared a room at the boarding school, and now he spent half the summer with them. Every time Liana wanted to do something like go to the pool with her friends, her parents would say that the Donaldsons had a pool at their house. Every time she wanted to lie on the grass and read a book, the two noisy boys would decide to play right in front of her, until she gave up on the book and had no choice but to stare at them. It was a pity her plan didn't work, sadly Art didn't stay at his stupid boarding school forever.

By the age of 17, it was clear to everyone that Art was good at tennis. Really good at tennis. He won youth singles competitions and also did well in doubles with Patrick. Her parents forced her to attend quite a few of these tournaments.

"Li, I think you're my lucky charm," he said in front of everyone at dinner after one of the tournaments, smiling a smile that only Liana knew was malicious. Everyone melted at the touching gesture of the ultimate champion taking time for the girl he grew up with, but Liana knew Art too well. He couldn't fool her with his feigned niceness, his suddenly acquired manners. She knew him too well and knew that everything he did was always about embarrassing her and making her do something she didn't want to do. "So, are you suggesting I stop coming to your games?" she asked, taking a bite of chicken, throwing a smile of her own. Two could play this game. "You're going to be at most of my games for the rest of our lives anyway," he shrugged while Liana raised an eyebrow, and the adults around the table laughed as if they knew something Liana and Art didn't. Later, Liana sat on a chair by the pool, and Art sat next to her. She looked at him with the same expression as before, and he raised one hand in surrender. "I come with peace offerings," he pulled out a cake and two spoons from behind his back. Her raised eyebrow turned into suspicion. "What do you want?" she reached for one of the spoons. "I missed you, Li. Tell me something good," he took a bite of the cake and in response got another eye roll that made him lightly slap her hand as it reached for the cake. "You're not getting any until I hear at least one interesting story," he moved the cake as far from her as he could. "I'll just go in and get a piece for myself," she replied quickly. "There’s no more. I took the last one," he took another bite, knowing she was starting to worry about how much cake would be left for her if he finally agreed to let her have some. "I started working on my applications to Stanford," she said, and he moved the cake closer to her, finally letting her eat.

"How's it going?" he asked. They both knew Stanford was a big deal; their families had history there. Art's parents got engaged there. Everything in their lives revolved around getting into Stanford. "I'll be fine. I'm in all the extracurriculars at school, student council, and prom committees. My essay is a bit boring, needs more work, but I have a year, so maybe something will change," she shrugged and saw he hadn't eaten the last bite of the cake, leaving it for her.

"Write about your best friend and what it's like growing up in the shadow of the best tennis player in America," he said with a serious tone, and after a few seconds, he started laughing. "Write about how you miss me," he added. His laughter faded a bit as he studied her, and she went back to looking at the pool. "If I decide to lie in my university application essay, I'd rather write that I got into a modeling agency and live a double life like Hannah Montana," she replied without looking at him. "You're mean," he chuckled and stared at the pool, enjoying the silence between them.

When they went inside, Liana saw there was still half a cake left, and Art, noticing her look, just shrugged and went to talk to her dad about basketball. A year later, things got a bit complicated. Liana had a boyfriend. It wasn’t anything too serious, but he came to her and Art’s joint birthday party. Needless to say, Art and Patrick couldn’t stand him. Patrick said he smiled too much, like he wanted everyone to like him. "How can you trust a guy with a smile like that?" he asked for the third time that evening, as they stood there watching Liana talk to her parents with Jake holding her hand. "All his teeth are in place," Art responded. He felt betrayed. He felt as if tennis had betrayed him. If it weren’t for tennis and the boarding school, he would still be going to the same school Liana went to. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her, certainly not for long enough for her to have a boyfriend with a smile like that. "Do you think they’ve fucked?" Patrick asked suddenly, making Art turn his head sharply in his direction. "You think they did?" he asked back. "I don’t know. You know her better. I only talk to her on the phone occasionally," Patrick shrugged. "You talk to her on the phone???" Art asked, unable to process this new information. In his view, there wasn’t an option to talk to Liana unless she came to watch him play or their parents arranged for them to meet. The thought that Patrick and Liana had phone talks and didn’t just meet in the summer made him uncomfortable.

"Yeah, that’s what phones are for, to call people you miss," Patrick chuckled, but quickly returned to the same expression as he watched Liana and the quick kiss her annoying boyfriend gave her. "In front of her dad," they said together. Art knew her dad well. He knew that gesture wasn’t appreciated. "What do you talk to her about on the phone?" He was a bit embarrassed asking. He felt like he was losing to everyone. Losing to Liana, losing to Jake, and worst of all, losing to Patrick. "Just stuff. She called when she got accepted to Stanford, for example. I promised her I’d take her out for ice cream this summer to celebrate. And she said she stole a bottle of wine from her parents and celebrated with her friends," Patrick felt like he was rambling. He knew Liana and Art didn’t talk on the phone. He didn’t want to compete with his best friend because, well, he was his best friend. But Art had a significant advantage with Liana. He’d known her all his life. And if someone with such an advantage wasn’t making the most of it, Patrick had to step in. He had to show Art he was also in the picture. That even if they both went to Stanford, Patrick would still be around.

What none of them considered was that Liana could choose someone else entirely. That someone else might win. Come to think of it, neither of them even saw her that way. She was just Liana, the girl who was always there, in the background of their lives. And neither of them planned to change that anytime soon. Well, anyway, Jake had to disappear.

here it is. Once again, English is not my first language, and it's my first time writing in it. Hope you like it as much as I love writing it. I'd really like to hear your thoughts so don't stop yourselves from hitting the ask box ❤️

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig #challengers fic #challengers

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