#I briefly awaken from my slumber

[godsfavdarling]

Do you want me to take care of you?

my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader words: 1.3k summary: Spencer and reader love some morning love. warnings: handjob, soft!dom!gn!reader, soft!sub!spence, no use of y/n (tell me if I forgot something) praise kink? 🤭😝 a/n: i was feeling a bit inspired. maybe i'll come back to my spencelle fic soon but for now hope yall enjoy this!

You woke up to find Spencer nestled against you, his head resting on your chest as you both lay on your sides, facing each other. 

His messy curls tickled your face, and you could feel his steady breathing against your skin, the soft exhales warming you. Your leg was draped over his hip, drawing you two as close as possible.

He had returned late, long after you had drifted off to sleep. Despite your efforts to stay awake to greet him, exhaustion had won out.

Sometime during the night, you felt the mattress dip as he settled beside you, seeking comfort in your presence. Though you briefly stirred, sleep quickly reclaimed you, leaving you both to enjoy the peaceful intimacy of the moment.

He had been gone for over a week, and the lack of communication had made you miss him even more. Especially during the quiet moments of the night. Falling asleep and waking up next to him was your favorite part of the day, and now that it was happening again, it felt almost surreal.

You ran your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his head as you savored his scent, careful not to disturb his slumber. It was his favorite shampoo, the same one you used. He had a habit of using your cosmetics, often remarking how they smelled like you and how comforting it was to him."

Suddenly, he shifted slightly, and you felt it—him, pressed against you, his hard length stirring an immediate arousal within you. 

There was an undeniable allure to morning intimacy, especially with Spencer. It seemed almost routine that he would wake up already excited, and you found it exhilarating.

Part of you couldn't help but hope that you were the cause of his arousal. While he may have just been the type of guy to experience morning wood, you preferred to believe it was your presence beside him that elicited such a response. 

Sleeping next to you seemed to consistently awaken him with desire, a notion that thrilled you. Initially, when you first started dating, he had been embarrassed and tried to conceal it from you. However, it didn't take long for you to reassure him that you had no issue with it. In fact, you welcomed morning intimacy eagerly, willing to sacrifice a few extra minutes of sleep if it meant indulging in each other's desires."

And now, you found yourself in the place you loved most: cuddled up to your boyfriend on a peaceful morning. His hard cock pressed into you.

You began to stroke his hair with a bit more bravery, aiming to gently rouse him from his slumber.

"Spence...? Baby..." you murmured, your voice soft against the morning quiet.

"Mhm...." he responded, shutting his eyes tighter as he hugged you closer.

"Are you waking up?" you whispered into his tousled hair, your fingers trailing gently along his scalp.

"Mhm..." he replied, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You traced soothing circles on his back with your other hand, allowing him to gradually emerge from his dreams. After a while, you started to slowly grind against him, earning a soft whimper that escaped his lips, betraying his arousal.

Pressing a tender kiss to his forehead, you teased, "Someone's excited?"

"Mhm..." he murmured again, his desire evident in his response.

"Do you want me to take care of you?" you whispered, your lips brushing against his skin.

"Mhm..."

"Yeah? I need words, Spence..." you teased playfully, seeking verbal confirmation.

"Please," he finally managed to articulate, his voice tinged with need.

"Okay," you chuckled softly, feeling a surge of affection for him as you reached your hand between your bodies, gently caressing the skin above his boxers.

"Mhm... please," he pleaded once more, his eagerness evident in his tone.

"Someone's needy, huh?" you teased, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

Since you hadn't seen him or felt him in too long, you decided to forgo the teasing and get down to business. He deserved to have everything he wanted, to feel everything he wanted. No more teasing or playing around for now.

You dipped your hand under the waistband, firmly grasping his hard cock, eliciting a breathy exclamation from him.

"Oh god," he gasped, his voice muffled against your chest.

"That feels good?" you inquired softly, seeking confirmation.

"Very good," he murmured in response, his breath warm against your skin.

As you continued to stroke him, you reached for his hair, gently playing and pulling, adding another layer of sensation to the intimate moment.

Placing tender kisses on his forehead, you felt your hips instinctively beginning to move, responding to the rhythm of your shared desire. 

It was irresistible, especially with Spencer softly moaning and whimpering against your hot skin, his lips brushing against you, and the warm breath escaping his lungs tickling your skin, intensifying the intimacy of the moment.

His velvet skin felt like a dream, large, hot, tip leaking profusely, your hand slid easily. With your fingers tracing along the veins and around the pink head, Spencer's hand slid around your back, pulling you closer.

"Spencer, honey, you're holding me too tightly. I'm trying to make you feel good," you gently reminded him.

"Sorry," he whispered, loosening his grip.

"It's okay," you assured him, continuing to massage the swollen, taut flesh as Spencer trembled beneath your touch.

You reveled in the feel of his length in your hand, delicate yet powerful. "You're doing so well, my pretty boy," you encouraged him softly, watching as his lips parted, barely glistening with saliva, and his whimpering grew louder.

Starting with your thumb against his slit, you applied pressure, eliciting a moan from his lips, before moving to the pre-cum pooling on the tip. Smearing it along the bottom vein, you used it as a guide as your hand began to move up and down, utilizing the small amount of lubrication present.

His nose scrunched as you picked up the pace, his body responding eagerly to your touch. You twisted your hand, using your nails to tease the head of his manhood, causing him to tense uncontrollably.

"Look at you, Spence. You want it so bad it hurts?" you teased, your tongue between your teeth.

"Please..." he pleaded, his eyes shut tightly as your hand continued its relentless motion.

His head turned to nuzzle into the pillow, his moans muffled as he neared his peak.

"Come on, baby, finish for me," you urged, and Spencer complied, his loud groans filling the room as his release coated your hand, warm and sticky.

He went limp against you, his hands bringing you closer as if he couldn't bear to be apart from you. You softened, stroking his hair with your free hand after helping him come down from his high.

"That's it. You did so well," you praised him, giving him a few more gentle pumps before kissing him tenderly on the lips.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice still trembling with the remnants of pleasure.

"You're welcome," you replied, your tone tender and filled with affection as you looked into his eyes.

"I love you," he confessed, his gaze filled with adoration as he searched your face for reassurance, sweat glistening on his forehead and his curls tousled from the intensity of the moment.

"I love you too," you responded, your heart swelling with warmth at his words, feeling the depth of your love in every syllable.

"Let me take care of you now," Spencer murmured softly, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he shifted his focus to you. He was ready to reciprocate the love and attention you had just bestowed upon him.

[nahoney22]

Me again! Please can I request some HC’s with the bad batch and how they react to reader (gn or female) accidentally crawling into the boys bunk at night 😂

Accidental Sleeping Arrangements

All Bad Batch Boys X GN!Reader

How the boys react to you accidentally crawling into their bunk at night.

warnings: Fluff, comfort, cuddles, some moody boys, gender neutral reader. Can be read as romantic or platonic.

Echo 💤

The first time:

As you slid into his bunk accidentally that evening, he was thoroughly bewildered. He had jolted awake and sat upright, observing your exhausted form snuggling against him, eyelids heavy with fatigue.

With tactful gentleness, he roused you from your slumber, delicately shaking you to bring you back to awareness. "Hey, um, you're in my bunk, trooper."

Your eyes flickered open, adjusting to the dim light, and a muttered curse escaped your lips as you retreated, cheeks warming with embarrassment. "Sorry, Echo," you apologized, slipping out of his bunk. "I must be completely drained," you sheepishly confessed.

"It's alright. I just didn't want to startle you by waking up to my face," he commented. You glance at him with a furrow forming on your brow before you shook your head.

"I doubt I'd be bothered by that..." your words trailed off, potentially carrying unintended flirtation. Echo's eyes widened slightly, his hand instinctively moving to the back of his neck, a clear sign of slight shyness at your words.

"Anyway," you say abruptly, spinning on your heel. "Sorry about that."

Echo simply nodded, silently observing as you retreated to your own bunk, leaving him with a sudden chill in the air, now yearning for the warmth you briefly brought beside him.

The second time:

With a tired yawn, Echo wearily approaches his bunk a few nights later, only to halt in surprise at the sight of someone curled up inside. Upon closer inspection, he realises it's you again, presenting him with a slight dilemma.

Despite his weariness, Echo knows he needs rest, and while your bunk is an option, his own provides the perfect setup for his cybernetics, ensuring he's at his best for the next day's duties.

Letting out a small sigh, hoping you wouldn't mind, he settles on the edge of his bunk and gently wakes you. "Hey, you're in my bunk again," he murmurs softly.

You stir, meeting his gaze before cringing slightly. "Again? I'm so sorry," you begin to rise, but his hand on your shoulder stops you.

"You can stay, but I'd also like to get some sleep... if you, uh, catch my meaning," he hints with a faint smile, hoping you understand.

"Oh," you blush, considering for a moment. "Well, I hope you don't mind sharing."

"Not at all," he reassures, his tone gentle as you make space. He lies beside you, and before long, you drift back to sleep. Echo finds solace in the rhythm of your soft snores, gradually succumbing to sleep himself... though waking up to find you both cuddling is a surprise he hadn't anticipated, yet one he welcomes warmly.

Hunter 💤

The first time:

When Hunter awoke to find you crawling into his bunk, confusion gripped him. Instantly alert, his hands tensed, ready to confront any potential intruder, but his apprehension melted away as he recognised you.

He lay there in silence, contemplating his next move.

While a part of him felt inclined to let you sleep, considering your recent exhaustion, he couldn't shake the concern of startling you upon awakening to find him beside you.

After ensuring you were deeply asleep, he carefully extricated himself from the occupied bunk, making sure not to disturb you.

Once free, he couldn't suppress a soft chuckle as he observed you, peacefully snuggled into his pillow, emitting gentle snores. “Sleep well.” He whispered to you before leaving you to rest.

He made a mental note to address the situation in the morning, but perhaps it’s better left unsaid since you’ll know your error when you woke up.

The second time:

As you woke up to find yourself in Hunter's bunk, mortification swept over you. Yet, when you encountered Hunter in the cockpit, he didn't mention a word about it, instead offering you a drink of caf.

A small part of you entertained the idea that perhaps he was unaware of the nighttime intrusion. However, your suspicions were confirmed a few nights later.

Fatigued and not paying attention to your surroundings, you headed towards what you thought was your bunk and climbed inside, only to be surprised by the presence of another person. "Hunter, what're you doing?" you blurt out, eyes widening in disbelief.

"I could ask you the same question," he chuckles, adjusting his position and turning to face you. "This is my bunk."

Blinking in realisation, you glance around, confirming his assertion. "Oh," you laugh sheepishly, "I thought this was mine."

His smile is gentle, his eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "You're more than welcome to stay," he offers casually, though he soon realizes the potential implications of his words. "If you want to, that is."

A part of you knows you should return to your own bunk, yet there's an inexplicable pull keeping you there. "Well, I'm all comfy now..." you hint with a small smile.

He nods, turning his gaze away and closing his eyes. "Me too. Sleep well."

It took you a moment to fall asleep but just like how Hunter didn’t tell you that you had slept in his bunk first initially, you won’t tell him how he pulls you into his body as he slept and held you close throughout the night. Not that you seemed to mind.

Wrecker 💤

The first time:

"Wrecker, you scared me! What are you doing in my bunk?" you exclaimed, startled by the unexpected intrusion.

As you thought you were settling into your bunk for the night, using your hands to navigate through the darkness, you accidentally crawled onto something large and hard.

Assuming it was just your sheets bunched up, you attempted to smooth it out, only to be met with a small yelp that made your heart skip a beat.

"Huh?" Wrecker groggily emerged from his sleep cocoon, rubbing his eyes. "This is my bunk, isn't it?"

"No, I'm pretty sure it's mine," you asserted, but as Wrecker shifted in the bunk and reached under the blanket, he pulled out his beloved Lula.

"Oh. Maybe not then." You felt pretty embarrassed by your mistake, but Wrecker didn't seem to mind at all.

"It's alright, thought I was going to get an extra cuddle buddy for a second there!" he chuckled heartily, waving Lula in your face. His laughter filled the room, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you at the thought of being Wrecker's "cuddle buddy," though you weren't entirely sure if he was joking.

Deciding not to dwell on it further and eager to avoid keeping Wrecker awake any longer, you offered a meek apology before retreating to your actual bunk. As you settled in, you couldn't shake the image of Wrecker's playful grin from your mind.

The second time:

Wrecker stared down at his bunk, finding it already occupied with not much room left for him. You were snoozing away, oblivious to his dilemma. Wrecker knew he could be a bit of a grouch without his sleep, so he decided to gently prod you awake.

"Hey," he nudged you, rousing you from your slumber. "Is this you asking to be my cuddle buddy?"

You stirred awake, blinking in confusion as you glanced at him. It was then that you noticed Lula on the pillow next to your head. "Oh shoot, sorry Wrecker," you sighed groggily, just wanting to fall back asleep into the warmth of his bunk.

"It's alrigh’," he chuckled softly, his deep voice filling the room with warmth. "But uh... I kinda need to sleep."

"Then come cuddle next to me," the words slipped out before you realized what you were saying, but you didn't want to take them back either. The thought of Wrecker's warmth beside you was oddly comforting.

Wrecker was surprised for a moment, his eyes widening slightly, before a soft smile spread across his face. Without hesitation, he slung his armor off and crawled into the space beside you. "Are ya sure about this?"

"Mhm," you replied sleepily, your arms spreading over his chest as you nestled into him like a log warming a fire. "You're warm."

Wrecker smiled to himself, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he closed his eyes, feeling your steady breathing against his chest.

Tech 💤

The first time:

Sleep was not a common occurrence for Tech, so when he made the rare decision to nestle down for the night, he wasn't too perturbed to find you asleep in his allocated spot.

He paused for a moment, considering whether to wake you, but recalling your exhausted state earlier, he reasoned that you wouldn't have intentionally taken his bunk.

Instead, he quietly observed the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, noting the serenity that graced your features, before silently retreating back to the cockpit where he remained awake for the night once again.

"Tech, why didn't you wake me? I feel terrible," you expressed your guilt that next morning upon discovering that you had accidentally slept in his bunk, leaving him to forego his own rest.

"That is not necessary. You were tired, and I can always keep my mind occupied with tasks or reading intel," he replied in his usual composed manner, peering at you over his datapad. "I shall assume this was a one-time occurrence, and my bunk shall be my own again tonight."

“Yes, of course," you nodded, your expression reflecting genuine concern as you offered another apology before preparing for the demanding day ahead. Despite Tech's assurances, the weight of your unintended intrusion lingered.

The second time:

It just so happened to be the next night that you found yourself once again interrupting Tech's sleep. Moving through the dark ship with heavy eyes and a yawn on your lips, it was no surprise that you once again miscounted where your bunk was and crawled into the wrong one.

Your head hit the pillow, and your eyes shut as the warmth of the bed enveloped you. However, despite the comfort, a small flickering light kept intruding upon your consciousness, prompting your eyes to flutter open. At first, you didn't register the source, but as you turned your head to the right, your eyes widened in realisation: Tech laying there on his datapad, as if nothing had happened.

"Tech, what... am I...?" you began, your voice trailing off as confusion clouded your thoughts.

"In the wrong bunk?" he interjected calmly, settling his datapad down and gazing down at you. His goggles rested atop his head, allowing you to see the brightness of his eyes in the dark. "That is correct."

You sit up, feeling a rush of embarrassment flood over you, and run your hand over your face in frustration. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's up with me.”

Tech raises a single brow, his expression softened with genuine concern. "Perhaps in the morning, I should run some tests if you will allow me?" he suggests softly, his voice carrying a hint of worry. "But for now, I suggest you get some sleep."

Nodding in agreement, you reluctantly pull the blanket off your body, preparing to retreat to your own bunk. However, before you can make your escape, Tech's hand gently rests on your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

"You are free to continue sleeping in my bunk tonight if you find it comfortable," he offers unexpectedly, his gesture of kindness catching you off guard.

"What, really?" you respond, turning to face him, searching his eyes for confirmation.

With a nod, Tech reclines back and retrieves his datapad. "Yes, really. I do not mind."

"But what if I keep you awake again?" you voice your concern.

"Do not worry about me," he reassures softly, a warm smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, get some rest before I give you a lecture about the benefits of getting sleep."

You chuckle softly at his remark before settling, finding comfort in his understanding demeanor. As you prepare to drift off into slumber, you can't help but feel thankful for Tech's compassion and generosity.

In the quiet of the night, you woke up only once, feeling Tech's arm drape gently across your body. Yet, instead of feeling unsettled, you found comfort in his presence.

Crosshair 💤

The first time:

As you prepared to settle in for the night after a long day, exhaustion clouded your judgment, leading you to absentmindedly crawl into a bunk without much thought. However, your relaxation was short-lived as you were startled by a gravelly voice beside you.

"What are you doing?" The abrupt question made you jump, and you inadvertently knocked your head against the top of the bunk in surprise.

"What am I doing? What the kriff are you doing?" you retorted in annoyance, rubbing your sore head as Crosshair sat up beside you, his expression stern in the dim light.

"I'll think you'll find this is my bunk," he hissed, his sharp gaze piercing through the darkness. As you glanced across the room, you realised your mistake—the bunk you were in wasn't yours.

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh. Now get out before I drag you out," he threatened, though you could tell it was more playful than serious.

"Alright, alright, keep your hair on," you sighed as you obediently crawled out of his bunk, feeling the absence of warmth as you departed.

Crosshair grumbled under his breath and rolled back onto his side to sleep, while you mentally chided yourself for the blunder, making sure you never accidentally try to sleep in his bunk again.

The second time:

You're exhausted, your head throbbing with the relentless ache of sleep deprivation from the past few days, and you've reached the point where you don't care where you sleep anymore. And that includes Crosshair's bunk.

As you settle down on the edge of his bunk, the closest one available, you feel the weight of his gaze on your back, following your movements as you swing your legs around and lay down. "What are you doing?" his voice cuts through the silence, tinged with irritation.

You don't reply, simply closing your eyes as you allow the fatigue to wash over you, hoping for a moment's respite.

"This is my bunk," he asserts firmly, his agitation evident, but as you remain silent, his annoyance shifts to confusion.

"Are you... alright?" he inquires, concern creeping into his voice.

You shake your head softly, and you hear him sigh, but he doesn't press you further. Nor does he demand that you leave.

As sleep begins to claim you, Crosshair remains awake for a while, his thoughts swirling. In his mind, he tells himself that this is a one-time occurrence.

Yet, if you're upset and in need of somewhere to rest for a while, he doesn't mind if you sleep next to him again. After all, it turns out to be the best sleep he's had in a while too.

Masterlist

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417@eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex x @jesseeka @theroguesully y @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97@staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans s @nunanuggets s @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 7 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez @green-alm0nd @thiswitchloves9904

[fayes-fics]

Comfort

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Benedict comforts his new wife when her courses arrive…

Warnings: mentions of menstruation, non graphic references to period blood. Otherwise, just the fluffiest of fluff.

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. Thanks to @colettebronte for help with the title. Request fill for anon HERE, where Benedict comforts his new wife when her period arrives overnight. This might be the most saccharine-sweet fluff I have ever written. For my usual smut peeps… err, apologies? Normal filth will resume shortly, I'm sure lol. <3

You stir from your slumber to a dreaded dampness you know far too well. 

Oh dear heavens, no! 

Overnight, your courses have arrived without warning. Or perhaps, with hindsight, there were some signs, but you had assigned blame for the symptoms elsewhere. You had put your tiredness down to the exhaustive social whirlwind of your first ball as a Bridgerton. The dull lower back pain you had felt merely due to traipsing around the extensive grounds the host was keen to show off to all and sundry.

For a few moments, you lay staring frettingly at the ceiling, unsure what to do. You can tell that your nightgown and, likely, the bedsheets will carry evidence of this unwanted early arrival. You had plans to inform your lady's maids to prepare the following night. Trust your body to be at least a day early when you least need it. 

Next to you, your new husband of just fourteen days, Benedict Bridgerton, is sleeping soundly. You roll your head to look briefly at his handsome face in repose on the adjacent pillow, then bite your lip in anxiety.

Oh god, he cannot see this!! He simply cannot! What am I to do?!?

____

You had been taught a few things in the run-up to marriage by your Mama. One of them was never to mention or address the “monthly visitor” to your husband—it was a matter for you and your maids to deal with. On the nights you were “visited”, you were strongly counselled to sleep in your room rather than with your husband so he would not have to deal with “such unpleasantness”. This may have been logical advice for a regular wife of the Ton, but your mother probably never considered how non-traditional your husband would turn out to be. 

Hours after your nuptials, upon arrival at your new marital home - a wonderful brick townhouse just a few streets from Bridgerton House - you had politely inquired where your bedchamber was. At first, he laughed, then frowned when he realised you were serious. It turned out he had not made plans for, or indeed, set up a room for you separate from his.

“We are husband and wife now. We shall sleep together,” he explained, drawing you into his arms and planting a tender kiss on your forehead.

“But… every night?” you stuttered, still grappling with what exactly was expected of you as a wife.

“Yes darling,” he confirmed, still sounding vaguely bemused.

____

Since that day, you have shared a bed every night, which has been delightful for so many reasons. Indeed, you have never slept better in your life than in the two weeks since your wedding, falling asleep securely in his arms and awakening to his handsome, smiling face…

…Well, that is until now.

Now, you have no earthly idea what to do. 

You surmise it must be early, dawn breaking, a grey, feeble light peeking around the top of the heavy velvet drape curtains over the windows. Barely enough to see shapes and rough outlines as your eyes adjust. Not wanting to awaken Benedict by igniting a candle, you gingerly push back the bedspread and slide out as quietly as possible. In the mirror across the room, you catch sight of a scarlet bloom, visible even in this low light, so stark against your white cotton nightgown. Turning back around, your fears are fully realised when you see a mirror imprint left upon the sheet where you slept.

Horrified, you fly into a flurry of movements. Wanting to hide both your nightgown and the sheets you have sullied, albeit unintentionally. You slip as silently as you are able to the linen supplies cupboard and gather terrycloths designed for bathing. One, you wrap around yourself; another two, you decide to place upon the bed, hoping it will conceal the stain until your husband leaves the bedroom.  

You cannot wait to bathe but know that running a bath would surely awaken Benedict, the noise of water being poured into the echoey copper, even if across the hallway, being bound to rouse him.

Once back next to your side of the bed, you push the covers towards the middle and start to pull at the edge of the undersheet, hoping to slide a cloth under the stain and one atop, to stop the evidence from spreading. You glance furtively at your husband as you work, who unfortunately is turned onto his side facing towards you, as he often is when you awaken. 

In all heavens, could you not turn the other way just for once, my love? 

You move as stealthily as you can, so very keen to be unnoticed. The most challenging part is trying to wedge a cloth underneath, the sheet pulled taut by your husband's weight pinning down the other side. Just as you are fighting with both hands shoved far under the sullied sheet, you hear a sudden sharp intake of breath.

Oh no! He is awake.

His eyes fly open, and he squints as he takes in the sight before him. Then, a frown passes over his features.

“What on earth are you doing, my love?” his voice is deep and rough with sleep.

You whip your hands out from under the sheet, belatedly realising you are also muttering a repeated “no no, no no” under your breath as you attempt to reach for the upper cover and hide what has happened, but it is just out of reach, kneeling as you are beside the bed.

“Darling,” he sits up slightly, rubbing his eyes, obviously thrown off by your agitated state. “Please, whatever is the matter??” his tone rising in volume and concern.

Your eyeline falls reflexively upon what you are trying to conceal on the bedsheets, and his tracks yours. Unable to handle your embarrassment, you bury your head in your hands and slump backwards onto your heels, certain this will be repulsive to him.

“I am so sorry, husband; I was not expecting this to happen today; please forgive me,” you mutter defeatedly behind your hands, ashamed.

You are expecting a noise of derision or disgust. What you do not expect is a chuckle and then a large, warm hand brushing your shoulder.

“Darling, please get up off the floor,” his ask caring, no rebuke to be heard.

Your head slowly tilts up, and to your shock, he is leaning over onto your side of the bed, not far above the stain, and is observing you mildly befuddled benevolence.

“But, I…” you trail off, even as he reaches for your hand.

“It is fine,” he cuts in, squeezing reassuringly with his fingers. “You are a woman. Such things happen. There is no need for shame,” his eyes are soft with understanding. “I do have sisters, you know,” he adds with a sanguine laugh, a shorthand to explain his knowledge of your situation.

Your mouth falls open a fraction, completely taken aback by his affable, almost nonchalant reaction; it is very different from what your Mama taught you to expect. While you flounder in surprise, he rolls away and gets out of bed, padding around to your side, crouching next to you and drawing you into his arms.

“You… you are not repulsed?” you stutter as you recover, your brow creasing.

“Of course not, my love. It is perfectly natural, and there is nothing about you or your body that repulses me,” he assures, kissing your cheek. “In fact, it is very much the opposite,” his tone sincere and soothing.

You get lost in his hazy eyes and gentle smile, accepting his doting kisses that make you feel warm from head to toe. It is then he looks down and spies the bathing cloth you have swaddled yourself in from the waist down.

“I assume your nightgown is in a similar state? And that you would like to get clean?” he guesses empathetically as you nod demurely. “Then I shall summon the staff to run you a bath,” he hums, delicately brushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen askew in your scrambling efforts.

“Thank you, Benedict, so very much” you exhale, relieved and still slightly unmoored by his reaction.

His face breaks into that crooked smile that makes butterflies flutter under your ribs. 

“Please, my love, it is literally nothing. We have promised ourselves to each other for life. I expect to see this many more times,” he explains calmly as he rings a bell to summon his butler and presently provides instructions for a warm bath to be drawn and the bedding to be changed by the maids.

“You do not wish for me to sleep elsewhere when I am so afflicted?” you check as soon as you are alone again.

He chuckles as he did before. “Whatever for? You are my wife. I want you beside me all the time. It matters not to me if you have your courses. I still wish to fall asleep with you in my arms.” His sweet sincerity makes your heart skip a beat as he nuzzles your temple. “Although it has been a few short days since our wedding, I have rather gotten used to you being beside me. I cannot sleep soundly without you, my love. Nor would I want to try. We shall share our bed every night,” he adds solemnly.

“But, what if one of us is sick?” you inquire as he helps you to stand up from the floor, pulling you into his arms.

��‘Tis no bother. We shall surely both contract the same, seeing as we reside under the same roof; at least we can suffer in company,” he jests warmly into your ear as his hands rub your lumbar spine with a pattern that soothes the ache you feel there.

“What if you must travel for your art?” you challenge.

“I would be heartbroken if you did not come with me,” he volleys back with a playful pout that you can't help but giggle at.

“What if one day we have a child, and they will not rest without their mother?” your question is almost timid, knowing there is a bloom on your cheeks at the very thought.

He cups your jaw gently and tilts your face to look up into his. His mien is so devoted that the air is stolen from your lungs. 

“Then they shall simply sleep between us, my love. It will be my child, too. You will not be alone. Not when you have your monthly courses and not in the raising of our children. Of that, I promise,” his cadence is lilting and ardent.

“Thank you, Benedict,” you breathe shakily, scarcely able to believe that the man you married is nothing like how your mother had warned. It makes you feel so grateful you cannot stop your emotions, heightened at this time of the month, from bubbling over.

A large, warm thumb blots the tears that gather at the corner of your eyes without comment; he just accepts your state, bussing a kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you, y/n,” he breathes, warm air gusting over your skin.

“I love you too, Benedict,” your reply muffled into his neck as you mould into his strong embrace, remaining there until a lady’s maid taps on the door to convey that your bath is ready.

And true to his word, over the years, you are never a night without your husband. Through many monthly courses, through sickness and health, through children and even grandchildren. It is always his face you see just before your eyes droop closed and the moment they flutter open again. Your safe space. Your comfort. 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb

[rainychaoloveshack]

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠 & 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

its time to celebrate their birthday, right as the clock strikes twelve.

°•☁︎content. sonic and scourge x gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff, angst in scourge’s drabble about his past but still very fluffy, light alcohol consumption (scourge) °•☁︎warning. mentions of parental neglect/child abuse (scourge).

☂︎ wc. around 1 k each drabble, 2k combined. ☂︎ a/n. awawawa its their bday today!!! i wouldve written something for shadows “birthday” on the 19th, but i had only learned that it was his pseudo bday the day of :( ill be dropping one or two shadow fics this week tho so hopefully that makes up for it!

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!!

Sonic’s body shifts under his covers as you nudge him lightly, trying to awaken him from his slumber, with ears twitching and his mouth turning downward into a frown at the sudden disturbance. Yet his eyes open slowly and peer up at you, obviously drowsy, but he seems to recognize you even in that sleepy haze.

“Hmm? [Name]?” Sonic grumbles out, sitting up on his elbows quickly. “Why’re you in my room so late? Is something wrong?” Despite being tired still, he sits up fully, switching the lamp on beside his bed, and pushes himself towards the edge, letting his legs fall off the side. “Bad dream, huh?”

Always so alert, even after being awoken so abruptly. Such is the attitude of a hero, but you nudge his cheek affectionately with your finger and shake your head, trying to ease his worries as soon as they sprouted up.

“No? Ah, I got it,” he snaps his fingers, pointing up to you as a teasing smile grows on his face to place the frown, “you needed a sleep buddy, yeah?” He chuckles, patting the spot that's open next to him. “You know my bed is always open for you.” Sonic gives you a chuckle, giving you a toothy grin, but you shake your head again and his smile drops.

“Huh? Then what’s up?” He cocks his head to the side, looking up at you curiously with those green eyes you’ve always been so fond of. Extending your hands out briefly, you give him a signal to wait as you briskly trot out the door to fetch his surprise.

In his drowsy haze, he must’ve not noticed the clock struck twelve already, signaling that his birthday had already started. And of course, you had to be the first one to wish him such, even in the dead of night.

Using your hips, you push open the door slowly, the birthday cake slowly emitting a soft, amber light with a single birthday candle lit in the middle. Sonic’s face lights up into one of shock, his body straightening as you bring the cake over to him. 

“A cake?” He asks, heads turning frantically to search for his alarm clock, seeing the red digits read out 12:23 AM. “For me? Right now?” You nod, taking a seat next to him as you hold the cake in your lap, taking note of his wagging tail underneath the sheets, and the twitching ears as you start to sing Happy Birthday softly, watching his parted lips turn into a small smile at the sound of your voice; a melody he’s always loved listening to, more than any song composed.

“Aw man, I dunno what to say…” Sonic mutters, flustered as he brushes his quills downward with a hand; a fidgeting habit you've noticed with him before, along with tapping his foot on the ground, picking at his gloves, whistling; and the like. “Thanks, [Name]. You really didn’t have to do any of this for me; honest…”

How humble. A great hero deserves a good celebration, no? Even if it’s something small like this, between the two of you. Lifting the cake off your lap, careful to avoid the flame, you hold it in front of him and give him a little nudge with your leg; a little signal.

“Oh right, my wish! Huh…” He stares into the amber light from the candle for a moment, before shutting his eyes and letting silence fill the room instead. With the way Sonic’s eyes squeeze shut and his brows furrow, he must be wishing hard tonight. But as the thought slips in, he blows out the candle, smoke emitting from the now burnt-out tip. “By the way; you didn’t get a plate, or fork, or anything.” Sonic gestures toward the cake, deciding to take a small swipe of frosting off the top and licking it off his finger. “Oh, that’s pretty nice…”

Does he want to eat it now? You tilt your head at his statement, surprised at his appetite so late at night. You were just going to stuff it in the fridge for later. Sonic usually appreciates his rest more than the average person would, so it wouldn’t be out of the ordinary for him to fall asleep right after all of this, but he seems eager to spend more time with you.

“Well, uh,” He chuckles, meeting your gaze and scratching at his cheek as his ear twitches at your confusion. “having a piece of it with you right now sounds pretty nice. I mean, later on once the sun’s up, everyone's just going to celebrate like they always do.” He explains, stopping his scratching to reach over and fidget with the hem of your shirt, pulling at it as his head tilts back down to look at the cake. “But right now it’s just you and me, so…”

Look at Mr. Blue blur, thinking ahead. Time to fetch the cutlery.

And after fetching everything you need, while you slice into the cake, you can’t help but ask him an important question about tonight, customary to ask on anyone's birthday.

“My wish?” Sonic says, watching you put his slice of cake onto the plate, along with passing him a fork. “No point in telling you, 'cause then my wish won’t come true, right?” With a cheeky grin, his own laughter follows right after, but once he sees your unamused face, he clears his throat and continues. “But even if it doesn’t, it’ll be fine.”

It’s not hard to tell that his gaze is on you, even as you’re cutting the next slice to give to yourself. Not that it’s uncomfortable, since as you look up briefly to lock eyes with him, it’s so warm that it sends butterflies to your stomach, fluttering all around.

“I might already have what I wished for, anyway.”

“A cake? You got me a whole cake this fuckin’ late?” Scourge growls, rubbing his eye as he peers up at you from his spot on his bed, but being stuck with him for so long has made you accustomed to his little complaints. It’s nothing that's ever meant from true malice, anyway. “‘S like two in the mornin’.” You grin and shrug it off, sitting down next to him as you set the cake down on your lap, the candle already lit and ready to be blown out.

“Tch. Man, aren’t you stupid…” He says, staring at the lit cake more thoughtfully than he usually would, despite his harsh words directed towards you. “Even put a candle on it.” He grumbles, opening his mouth to say something else, but your soft voice breaks his words as you start to sing Happy Birthday to him. And all of that fake irritation and tenseness just melts away, fighting back a smile on your face as you watch his shoulders relax under your voice; his guard formed by his trauma just breaking away, bit by bit.

Scourge clicks his tongue once you finish singing, refusing to meet your eyes as he looks off to the side, a soft growl growing in his throat, despite not being genuine. “This is stupid…” He glances back at the amber candle, sighing. “Fine. I’ll blow it out, if it makes ya happy.”

He’s forgetting something.

“Make a wish?” His face contorts into one of skepticism. “I don’t got nuthin’ to wish for.” Scourge stares down at the lit candle, but he entertains your little demand and shuts his eyes, silent for a few moments before blowing out the candle quickly. It’s hard not to wonder what he wished for.

“A hint? The hell do I look like givin’ ya a hint?” Scourge starts, grinning at your unamused frown. Party pooper. “Doesn’t matter what I wished for anyway. I already got all I need.” Oh. Your playful demeanor drops at his little statement; coupled with the way he’s looking at you, it doesn’t take a genius to know what he’s gesturing towards.

“Quit ooglin’ at me and cut the cake.”

Now why’s he in such a hurry? You didn’t even get to tell him what else you got for tonight…

“... Holy shit, really? Champagne? This late?” Scourge grins at your mention of the alcohol. “Man, you really don’t care, huh?”

“Thanks, babe.” He mumbles, poking and picking at the cake slice with his fork, appetite seemingly missing from himself as he peers at the pieces of fruit pressed into the frosting. “Bout’ the bottle…” He gestures over to the champagne bottle, still sealed. “Just pop it open.” 

You nod, rising off the bed as you take the champagne bottle by the neck, picking off some of the gold foil around the tip with your fingernail. While you pick it off, it seems that Scourge has some things to share with you.

“When my birthday used ta’ roll around back then, my old man never bothered to celebrate it.” Scourge says softly, slowly cutting a small piece off his cake slice, and watching the frosting smear onto the plate. “Used to just leave me some gift I didn’t care about. Left it by my bedside so I would see it when I woke up.” His eyes flick toward the champagne glass you’re filling for him, hearing the small fizzing emitting from the glass. “Didn’t even bother to come give it to me himself.”

Scourge never says much about his past, preferring to keep it hidden and locked away inside himself. You’ve never pushed him to tell you anything pertaining to it. Of course he tells you the important things, whether it be his past relationships or his scuffles with Sonic, but if he wanted to hide it, of course, you would respect that. But you never expected him to talk about when he was a child…

“It was always somethin’ expensive, but there was no real thought put in it.” He prods at the piece, before stabbing it onto the piece of cutlery. “I mean yeah, sure, jewels are nice, huh?” He looks over at you expectantly, and you take the bubbling champagne glass in your hand, sitting next to him. ”But when I was younger, I didn’t want any sorta jewel or whatever he put there.” His voice softened as his next words poured out, and he finally put the piece up to his mouth before speaking.

“I wanted my dad." Scourge is quick to interrupt the immediate silence that follows after. "‘Least I got somethin’ huh? Can't say that for other kids.”

Even after that, the silence between you two lingers longer than you would have wanted it to; slowly the growing tears welling up in the corners of your eyes threaten to spill out, but you pass the glass to him as nonchalantly as you could once he finishes his thought. Scourge after chewing his piece of cake takes a sip mindlessly after being given the glass, and licks his lips right after, a small yet toothy smile growing on him. “Man, this stuff's good! Must’ve gotten that real expensive stuff for tonight, huh?” He meets your gaze properly, seeing the tears well up in your eyes as you try to wipe them away without mention, and he puts his glass down wordlessly, reaching over to wipe the tears away for you.

Oddly enough, a grin grows on his face as he cups your cheeks, clearly amused by something. Is it your anguished expression? Ah, does he find that funny?

“Whatcha’ bein’ so sad for? S’ in the past for a reason, babe.” His thumb and forefinger pinches into your cheeks, pulling on them. Your eyes squeeze shut on the assault on your face, feeling more tears roll down your cheeks, and wincing as he chuckles. “Shit, I mean, it’s my birthday. You really gonna be sad today? C’mon.” Scourge finally lets go after some time, wiping your tears away from your cheeks. “Plus, the cake’s good. The hell you cryin’ about?” You giggle at his stupid reasoning of cheering you up, wiping another stray tear away with your finger.

It’s not like he’ll ever say it vocally, but Scourge really does care, and has such a nice heart.

Bringing your champagne glass up, you clink it against his wordlessly and take a sip, feeling the bubbling alcohol run down your throat, but it doesn’t feel as harsh as it normally would. Especially in this moment.

“Well shit, happy birthday to me, yeah?" Damn right.

[demonvibez]

Impulsive

Characters: Lord Diavolo x GN! Reader Rating: Teen Tags: comfort, fluff, gn reader, MC uses magic, kissing Word Count: 4.3k+ A/N: Happy (Belated) Birthday to My Sweet Prince, Lord Diavolo ♡ I'd give him all three realms if I could, but for now, I'll settle for sharing this silly little fluff fic. This may be my favorite thing I've written so far, so I hope you all enjoy it as well!

Late was the hour at the House of Lamentation, when you find yourself tossing and turning in your slumber, your mind currently pulled into the depths of a rather vivid nightmare. It was one of those nightmares that just feels so real, filling your senses and sending you running from the unknown terror, your heart pounding as you run deeper into what looks like the House but feels like a maze. Surely there aren't this many hallways when you're awake?! And so many doors! You run to the end of the hall, ripping open the large double doors and running into the next...which seems eerily identical to the last. Except when you get to the end of the hall this time, you run into a dead end. Panic now striking your heart you turn to the window, only for it to vanish as you touch it. A crimson ooze begins to drip down the walls, and you can feel the shadow entity getting closer, your breathing becoming more erratic as your back presses into the corner. You're trapped. Something reaches out towards you from the abyss, it's sharp claws coming into view the closer it gets.

Just before it can grab you by the neck, you fully awaken from your night terror, pushing yourself to sit up in bed so that you may try to catch your breath. You hyperventilate for a moment, grabbing your chest with one hand as the other maintains a tight grip on the bed sheets as your eyes quickly dart around the room. You're awake, and you're okay. You snap your fingers to magically turn the lights up, so that you may inspect the room closer. Nothing on the walls - and you let out a relieved sigh. You sit with yourself for a moment, in an effort to allow your breathing to return to normal, before flinging your legs over the side of the bed and standing up. You cross the room and make your way over to the window near your desk. Reaching out to touch the window, a slight hesitation makes your hand tremble. As your fingertips touch the cool pane of the glass, you breathe out an even bigger sigh of relief. The window didn't disappear this time - you are definitely safe and back in your own reality.

So, why can't you shake this eerie feeling? That same looming anxiety that filled your mind as you were being chased by the shadow creature. You shake your head, trying to just will it away, as you pick up your jacket from the back of a chair and pull it on. You cross your arms to hug yourself as you walk back over to your bedside table. Eyeing your DDD on the charger, you reach down to pick it up, unlocking it and opening the contacts in one fluid motion. Before you can even process what you are doing, you are already dialing a number, the phone pressed to your ear as you sit down at the edge of the bed. It's not until you hear his voice at the other end of the line do you really register just what you're doing. The Future King of the Devildom murmurs your name, a slight hint of concern lacing his voice - he's surprised to hear from you at this time of night. 

"Is something wrong? Are you alright," he asks you. He has no idea that the sound of his voice alone is so soothing to you. You let out a shaky breath that you had no idea you were holding, scooting back on the bed so that you can lean against the wall.

"Y-yeah...I'm okay...I-" you cut yourself off, your eyes briefly widening. Are you really bothering Lord Diavolo with your foolish little problems? It was just a nightmare, and you're awake now. You're sure the Prince has way more important things to worry about than the silly night terrors of a human. "I'm so sorry for bothering you, I know you must be busy wi-" he cuts you off by saying your name once again, this time with a slightly firmer tone.

"I've told you time and time again that you may come to me for anything, at any time," he reminds you. Softening his tone, he exhales before continuing, "Please. Tell me, what's wrong?" He truly meant it when he said you can come to him for anything. It warms his heart to think about you coming to him for help, especially when you have so many demons around you that are also willing to give you the world.

"It's...I just...it's gonna sound really stupid..." you trail off, as you fidget with the hem of one of your blankets.

"I assure you, nothing you could possibly say to me is ever going to be 'stupid.'" As you let out another exhausted sigh, you can hear the squeaking of his desk chair as he leans back against it. Lord Diavolo has always been very sweet to you, doing his best to accommodate all of your needs since you've dropped down into his realm. He always seems to have the answer to your problems, especially the more massive ones - what will it hurt to vent to him now?

"I...had a rather vivid nightmare. It felt so real to me..." You begin to describe your nightmare in great detail, not holding back any of the emotions that came along with it. Retelling this graphic tale almost makes you feel as though you are reliving it, and the crack in your voice pierces Diavolo's heart as you try to hold back tears while you finish your story. "And then I woke up," you say with a sniffle, "I guess I was quite shaken by it all, and I called you because...well, it was kind of an impulse to be honest, but I think I just really wanted to hear your voice," you admit, a rosy blush painting your cheeks. You were a bit glad Lord Diavolo couldn't see you right now - you aren't sure, but you probably look like a bit of a mess. Something else you are unaware of, is exactly how much your admission has effected the Young Prince. The idea that you instinctively sought him out for comfort is enough to get his heart racing, and now it is time for him to act on impulse - which is something he is rather good at.

"I'll be by the House of Lamentation to pick you up soon," he declares, the sound of his chair scuffing the floor ringing out across the phone line. Your eyes widen, and you jump up to stand on your bed in surprise.

"Uhhh...excuse me, WHAT?!?" There's no way he's serious. You hear his signature laugh, and now you know he's not joking.

"I'm coming to pick you up! A change of scenery is always a good idea after a nightmare - especially when the nightmare occurs where you're trying to sleep. I'll just leave a note for Lucifer, and bring you back to the Castle. This is going to be so much fun," he says excitedly. An impromptu sleepover with the Future King of the Devildom does sound like a fun idea - but doesn't he have more important things to do than to entertain you?

"Lord Dia-"

"AH! What did I say about using my titles when it's just us?" You can't help but to let out a tiny giggle, and it sends his heart over the Devildom moon.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry. I just don't want to be a burden on you. It's late, and I'm sure you have more important things to-"

"Nonsense," he cuts you off again. How can you possibly think you could ever be a burden to him? "I had just finished my work for the night when you called, and Barbatos hasn't even started the tea yet. We are just going to quickly portal over to you, and bring you back. It will be no trouble for us at all. Please, let me help you." Please, just let him take care of you. If you could see the look in his eyes right now, you'd see how much he yearns to pamper you with all of his affections. You spend so much time time and energy taking care of all of your demons, he wants so badly to be the one doing the same for you. Let him show you that he can be there for you, that he is capable of being your protector - even if it's from terrors created by your own mind.

"Okay...if you're really sure, then I'm game. Can you just give me like...five minutes?" He honestly doesn't have to ask you twice to hang out, you'll take any excuse to see Diavolo. You don't want to inconvenience him, but he's insisting, so why not take the gorgeous golden-eyed demon up on his offer? And even if you won't be able to fall back asleep, at least you'll have his company; his perfect smile, his soothing voice, the warm embrace of his hugs...

Before the Prince can even answer, he hears the sound of you jumping off of your bed and running around in your room. He can't help but to let out a small chuckle at how cute he thinks you are. He would tell you that there's no need to bother yourself, that you may come as you are - but as he finds himself in front of his own mirror, straightening his tie and hand-combing his hair, he relates to wanting to look impressionable for the person you're so deeply in love with. He's unsure if you return his feelings, but the idea of you scrambling around your room just to look cute for him for a surprise date has heat rising to his cheeks - which is ironic, seeing as you're doing exactly that.

"Of course! I'll send you a text just before we head over," he replies. Just after saying your goodbyes and hanging up, you race to your bathroom to freshen up your face. You had already tore off your jacket and discarded half of whatever other comfortable clothes you had worn to bed that night. Is this really about to happen?! Talk about a plot twist! One moment you're thrashing around in bed consumed with your nightmares, and the next your about to be picked up by the Future King to go hang out with him at the Demon Lord's Castle - your life can be such a rollercoaster at times.

You quickly wash your face at the sink, splashing the water in your face once more and staring into your owns eyes in the mirror, making sure this isn't also a dream. You've experienced nested dreaming a few times in your life, and it would sure as hell be disappointing if you weren't really about to see Diavolo. You shake your head, brushing off the thought, before turning off the water and exiting the bathroom.

You walk back across your room, and freeze in the doorway of your closet. The back of your closet is so dark - no matter how long you let your eyes adjust, the shadows casted in the back corners of the room still have this eerily ominous feeling. Your hand shakily reaches out towards the light switch, the hair on your arm standing up as anxiety courses through your veins. Just as you're about to flip the light switch on, a loud ding comes from your DDD, and you can't help but to jump. Your heart pounds in your chest for a few seconds before you remember why your phone had dinged - they must be on their way. Damn it! You're nowhere near ready! You flip the light on and start scrambling through your clothes, pulling out a pair of cute pajamas and putting them on. 

Just as you are pulling the bottoms up to your hips, you hear a slight cracking sound coming from the hallway, followed by a low humming noise. Barbatos' portal - they must be standing outside. Just as you arrive at the door, you hear a light knock, and you open it to find the Prince standing there in his RAD uniform, fist still raised to knock a second time. Behind him you can see Barbatos still in Diavolo's room, on the other side of the portal, his back turned to you as he sets a tray of sweets down on the glass coffee table by the bed. You look up at the gorgeous demon in front of you, and you can't help but to smile as your eyes connect with his. And the way he smiles back down at you, with a radiance brighter than any Celestial sun, is enough to make a small flurry of butterflies dance around in your stomach.

"Hey there! Ready to go?"

"Yeah, one second. Just need to grab my jacket real quick-" you go to turn around and pick up your jacket that you had previously thrown onto the floor, but Diavolo's voice interrupts you once again.

"There's no need," he says in his usually jovial tone, "I can have Barbatos light the fireplace if you'd like." Just then, you see the Butler turn around and nod at you, before speaking to you through the portal.

"Yes, and I have just started steeping a fresh pot of Hellfire Rose Tea. We have plenty of warm blankets, fresh from the dryer. You will not go cold in our care," says Barbatos, his lips curving upward in a knowing smile. For half a moment you wonder to yourself if he already knows what the course of tonight's events will be, but you don't really have too much time to wonder about that right now. 

"And of course, if all else fails, there is this." Looking down at his own chest, he starts unbuttoning his red RAD jacket. A blush creeps across your face as he unbuckles the golden belt and pulls the coat off of his large frame, holding it out for you to slide into. Your heart feels as though it is going to jump into your throat as you slide in your arms, the scent of Diavolo's cologne filling your senses as you pull the jacket tighter to your chest. The coat is rather baggy and long on you, but you feel so cozy that you don't even care. 

"Thank you so much for all of this, Dia," you say with a light blush still on your cheeks as you look up at him bashfully. Hearing the little nickname you've given him, the Young Prince can't help but to blush as well. No one has ever been so informal with him; he hopes you'll use it more, the sound of it coming from your lips like music to his ears. You move to try to take a step forward, but your feet accidentally step on the bottom of the coat, causing you to stumble forward a little.

"Oops, I suppose I didn't take that into account. Here, let me help you with that." And before you can even ask, Diavolo bends down and scoops you up in his arms. You let out a small yip as you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, your little human hands struggling to grip him through the oversized coat sleeves as he adjusts you in his hold. He turns around with you to walk back towards the portal, and you tap his shoulder to stop him for a moment.

"Wait! One sec..." With your right arm hooked around him, you raise your left, shaking it a bit so the sleeve falls down your arm. Your reach your hand out behind him, focusing all of your energy towards the DDD that you dropped on your bed earlier. You close your eyes, visualizing in your mind the phone rising up off the bed and floating into your hand. The more you focus on it, the stronger your intent becomes, and a surge of magical energy within you causes you to open your eyes back up just as the phone glides itself across the room and into your grasp. At the feeling of the phone's plastic case hitting your hand, your eyes widen in surprise as you let out a joyful laugh. "I can't believe it finally worked..." You show Diavolo the phone you just grabbed telekinetically, pride filling your chest and spreading to the smirk on your face.

"Nicely done! Seems as though your sorcery lessons are paying off." That same pride fills the Prince's chest, for you find new ways to surprise and impress him every day.

"Thanks, I've been working quite hard on that particular skill." You slide the phone into one of the coat's pockets before wrapping your arm back around him. He walks the two of you through the portal, and over towards the grey-striped couch next to his bed. The cracking noise of the portal closing rings out once again, the subsequent hum it produced now falling silent. The only sound currently filling the room is that of Barbatos arranging a tea set on the glass top of the coffee table, along with the slight squeak of the couch cushions as Diavolo sits down with you, setting you in his lap as he leans back into the corner of the couch. You unwrap your arms from around his neck, making yourself comfortable and leaning back against him, your cheek resting against his collar bone as you drape an arm across his torso. Diavolo wraps his arms around you, pulling you just a little bit closer, and your eyes flutter closed at the warm embrace. That is, until, you remember...

"Oh, fuck," you exclaim, your eyes snapping back open, "did we ever leave a note for Lucifer?" Sure, the Young Prince is best friends with the Avatar of Pride, but it's still usually better for you to ask for permission from Lucifer rather than forgiveness. The Morningstar is no stranger to handing down punishments - even to his favorite human. Diavolo looks down at you, and the look on your face must have been priceless, for you can feel the laughter building up and shaking his chest before ringing out into the open air.

"Yes, in fact, I sent him a text message before making my way over to you. The last thing we want is a concerned Lucifer tearing apart the realm looking for you." And the last thing Diavolo wants is an intrusion by the Eldest Demon Brother. Lucifer always prides himself on how well he looks after you, always stepping up to the plate when he is needed the most. And while he admires all of the traits that afford Lucifer's status as the Avatar of Pride and Right Hand of the Future King, Diavolo sometimes feels as though it hinders his ability to get closer to you. He does his best to mask his jealousy, but you don't miss the way he pulls you just a little bit tighter to his chest. You can feel a faint tingle coming from the location of Leviathan's pact mark, causing your eyebrows to slightly furrow. Was Lord Diavolo really feeling envious towards Lucifer? Over you? Your eyes quickly dart over to Barbatos, who is currently walking out of the bedroom door, most likely to fetch the pot of tea. As the sin continues to stimulate the sigil on your skin, you can only deduce that it must be Diavolo. 

"Indeed, the last thing we want is for our time together to be cut short," you say, looking up into those gorgeous honey eyes of his, "At this point, I'm kinda glad I had that stupid nightmare..." The way he gazes down at you, so loving and full of affection, causes your heart to start beating at a rapid pace. You aren't sure if you're reading the situation correctly, but the moment just feels so...right. Impulse has led you both to this exact moment, and into the arms of the demon you've been pining over for so long. Perhaps your instincts will be right again this time.

Your hand floats up to cup his cheek, and immediately you can feel him lean into your touch. You hear him murmur your name, spoken in a tone laced with a longing you hadn't heard from him before. You both lean into each other, your lips meeting in a kiss that you both felt like you had waited an eternity for - like you both had been trekking across a barren desert, and you finally found an oasis in each other. Your hands glide up so they lace through his hair, as he pulls you so you're facing him, his hands resting on your hips. You lightly nibble his bottom lip, at which you can feel his large hands give your hips a little squeeze, and he obliges you by deepening the kiss that you're both so entranced by. 

You're both so lost each in other's tender embrace, wanting so badly for the moment to continue on endlessly, that you don't even hear Barbatos re-enter the room. The Butler was really doing his best not to interrupt the two of you - he was happy to finally see the Young Master making progress with you, in regards to his admiration. Neither of you had heard the sounds of the door opening and closing shut, so he was a little surprised that the sound of the teaspoon clinking on the glass tabletop is what grabbed your attention. You jump a little bit, your nose bumping into his slightly, before looking over your shoulder to see Barbatos with an amused look on his face - you erupt into laughter, with the other two following soon after. 

"My apologies, I did not mean to interrupt the two of you. However, the tea is ready, along with a few snacks that I have prepared that I know you are both fond of." You give Diavolo a little peck on the cheek, causing him to have the goofiest grin in all three realms, before sliding off of his lap and sitting next to him. Your hands have a slight tremble from all of the excitement, and the last thing you want to do is spill scorching hot Hellfire Rose Tea all over Diavolo and yourself. You reach for the cup of tea Barbatos prepared for you, about to take a sip as the Butler hands a plate of sweets to the Prince.

"Would you like for me to enchant the tea? To ensure that your nightmares will cease," he asks, as he crosses the room to put some music on the record player, turning the volume down so that it may play in the background. 

"No," you say with a slight blush, your eyes darting to Diavolo from behind your teacup, "I have Dia now, so I think I'm good." You smirk as you take a sip, maintaining eye contact with Diavolo as he takes a bite into his Hellfire Mushroom Rolled Cigar Cookie, the blush spreading across his tan face as your words sink in.

The two of you spend quite a bit of time together that night, just sitting in each other's arms and talking about everything and nothing. It started off just chatting in more detail about the contents of your nightmare, but quickly digressed into talking of your fears, your dreams, your ambitions, your aspirations. Diavolo has never connected with another being like this before, and he's all the more glad he gets to grow such a connection with you. And while he listens to your voice, he comes to the realization that there's no one else he'd rather bare his infernal soul to in all three realms. His visions of the future always have you in it, and he couldn't be happier to hear that you feel the same way. You both continue to exchange stories of your fondest memories, making plans to create new memories together in the future. 

Just as Diavolo gets halfway though his story - one of the many tales of him causing chaos to then sneak out of the Castle - he feels the weight of your cheek fall against his shoulder. Your breathing steady and one of your hands gripping his shirt as you accidentally fall asleep in his lap. Between his soothing voice, the soft lull of the music, and feeling completely safe in his arms, you couldn't help but to drift off to dreamland. And he can't help but to just sit and watch you for a moment; you look so beautifully at peace in your slumber, he wants to etch it into his mind permanently. He eventually picks you up as gently as possible - you only stir once or twice. The first time at the motion of him picking you up; the second when he sets you down on his bed and you subconsciously miss the feeling of his warm embrace as he goes to quickly change his clothes. 

He slides into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him, your back pressing up against his chest. As your feel his warmth envelop you, you turn over to face him, one of your arms wrapping around him as well while you're only half awake. He lays on his back, pulling you on top of him, and you lightly nuzzle his chest and mumble an 'I love you' before you fall back fully asleep again. Diavolo's heart feels so full - he never knew three simple words could mean so much to him. He presses a kiss into the top of your head before laying back and shutting his eyes, happier than he's ever been in his life. And while he doesn't want you having anymore nightmares, he'd give anything to spend the rest of his nights like this with you.

· demonvibez ♡ 2023 · do not copy, repost or modify · · likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! ♡ ·

[lila-lou]

✨Beyond saving - Pt. 5 (The End)✨

Summary: I hate summaries, so this is part 5 of "Beyond saving".

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only!, Smut, soft dean

Word Count: 6064

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

You eyed Dean uncertainly, unsure of what to think about Jodie's suggestion. Sam, however, chimed in enthusiastically.

"That's a great idea", he exclaimed, nodding in agreement.

With Jodie's plan in motion, Sam, Dean, and you went to pack some stuff for the trip.

Jodie held Sam's wrist gently, stopping him in his tracks as you and Dean made your way towards the Impala. She leaned in close, her voice quiet but firm.

"Maybe it's best to let them have some alone time", she murmured softly, her gaze flickering towards you and Dean. "They need this time together".

Sam nodded, understanding the wisdom in Jodie's words. With a reassuring smile, he turned away, giving you and Dean the space you needed.

As Dean kept his eyes on you, the tension in the car palpable, he finally broke the silence. "I love you", he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity and vulnerability. He held out his hand towards you, a silent invitation for you to take it if you wanted.

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you at his words, his gesture melting away some of the barriers between you. With a small smile, you reached out and gently clasped his hand in yours, the warmth of his touch sending a comforting wave of reassurance through you.

After a while Dean pulled into a gas station to refuel and grab some snacks, while you remained asleep, your breathing steady and peaceful. He carefully filled up the tank and selected a few snacks, including a candy bar for himself.

As he started driving again and opened the candy bar, the rustling of the wrapper stirred you from your slumber. Blinking sleepily, you rubbed your eyes and stretched, the hunger pangs in your stomach reminding you that you needed something to eat.

Dean glanced over at you, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you wake up. "Sleeping beauty finally awakens", he teased gently, holding out the candy bar towards you. "Hungry?".

You chuckled softly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Always", you replied with a playful grin, reaching out to take the candy bar from him. "Thanks, Dean".

He nodded, his gaze softening as he focused on the road ahead. "Anytime, sweetheart", he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Just trying to keep my girl happy".

You leaned back in your seat, the warmth of Dean's words wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Closing your eyes for a moment, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, grateful for this moment of simple, quiet contentment with the person you loved.

As you enjoyed the snack, Dean stole glances at you, his smile widening with each passing moment. "You know", he said, his voice soft and playful, "I miss these road trips with you".

You chuckled, a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "Yeah?", you replied, your eyes meeting his briefly before returning to the passing scenery outside the window. "Even with my constant need for snacks?".

Dean grinned. "Especially with your constant need for snacks", he teased.

Dean's hand found its way back into yours, his fingers intertwining with yours as he squeezed your hand lightly. His gaze softened as he looked at you.

"We're gonna make it, you and me", he said earnestly, his voice filled with conviction. "I'll do anything to make sure of it".

You smiled, feeling a surge of warmth flood through you at his words. "I know", you replied softly, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you.

Two hours later, Dean parked the car in front of the lake house, his eyes scanning the surroundings as he spotted Claire and Alex preparing the fire pit. He turned to look at you, a hint of uncertainty flickering in his gaze.

"Hey", he began, his voice hesitant. "Um, is the plan for tonight still… you know, up?". He swallowed nervously, his fingers fidgeting with the keys in his hand.

Dean's eyes widened slightly at your nod, a mix of relief and anticipation washing over him. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Yeah, uh… I also grabbed some lube from the gas station", he said, his cheeks flushing slightly as he reached into the backseat to retrieve the small bottle. "You know, just in case". He offered you a sheepish smile, his nerves evident despite his attempt at nonchalance.

You chuckled softly, taking the bottle from Dean and inspecting it with a playful grin. "Vanilla flavor, huh?", you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. "Was that on purpose?".

Dean's cheeks flushed even a deeper shade of red, caught off guard by your playful remark. He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, well… I mean, I figured it might make things a little… you know, sweeter?", he stammered, his words laced with embarrassment.

You chuckled at Dean's flustered response, finding his embarrassment endearing. Leaning in close, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, your laughter muffled against his mouth.

"You're something else, Dean Winchester", you murmured.

Just as the kiss deepened, Claire and Alex knocked loudly against the window, startling both of you. You jumped back slightly, now your cheeks flushing with embarrassment as you quickly straightened up in your seat.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Dean shot a sheepish glance at you before rolling down the window to greet Claire and Alex.

Claire and Alex grinned mischievously as they leaned in through the open window, their eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Whoa there, lovebirds", Claire teased, nudging Dean playfully with her elbow. "Didn't mean to interrupt anything, did we?".

Alex chimed in with a smirk. "Yeah, didn't know we were getting a free show out here".

Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes good-naturedly as he leaned back in his seat. "You two are never gonna let us live this down, are you?", he quipped, shooting Claire and Alex a playful grin. The two just shook their heads and grinned.

Dean took your bag and slung it over his shoulder, his hand finding its way to the small of your back as he guided you towards the lake house. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a silent reassurance of his presence by your side.

As you walked together, you couldn't help but steal glances at Dean, feeling a rush of affection swell in your chest. Despite everything you'd been through, his unwavering support and love filled you with a sense of gratitude and hope for the future.

Jodie looked up from the barbecue preparations as she spotted you and Dean entering the kitchen, a playful grin spreading across her face.

"Well, well, well", she teased. "Look who decided to finally grace us with their presence. Did you two make an extra stop along the way?".

Dean chuckled, giving Jodie a mock glare as he draped an arm around your shoulders. "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up", he retorted. "We had a few things to take care of on the road, that's all".

You rolled your eyes at their playful teasing, but couldn't help but smile at the warmth and familiarity of the moment. It felt good to be surrounded by friends, to have a chance to relax and enjoy each other's company after everything that had happened.

As everyone sat around the crackling fire pit, enjoying the warmth and camaraderie of the evening, Dean pulled you close against his side, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. He pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head, his affectionate gesture drawing a playful gag from Claire.

"Ugh, seriously, you two", Claire teased, her tone exaggeratedly dramatic as she feigned disgust. "Could you be any more nauseatingly adorable?".

You chuckled at Claire's teasing, leaning into Dean's embrace as you exchanged a knowing glance with him.

After everyone had finished eating, the atmosphere around the fire pit grew quieter, the conversation tapering off into contented silence. Dean leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered softly.

"Do you want to go to our room?", he murmured, his voice low and filled with longing, his gaze meeting yours with a hint of anticipation.

A shiver ran down your spine as you felt the heat of Dean's breath on your ear, his words igniting a fire within you. You licked your lips, the desire evident in your eyes as you met his gaze.

"Yes", you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, filled with longing and anticipation. "Let's go".

Dean stood up, his hand gently pulling you to your feet as he nodded towards the house. "Come on, sweetheart", he said softly. "Let's head to bed".

As you followed him, Alex couldn't resist teasing. "Have fun, you two", she called out, her voice playful as she winked at you. "Don't keep us up all night!".

Dean chuckled, shooting a playful glance back at Alex over his shoulder. "We'll try to keep the noise down", he quipped with a grin before disappearing into the house with you, his arm around your waist.

As Dean hoisted you over his shoulder, you let out a surprised yelp, the sound echoing through the quiet night air. Laughter erupted from Claire, Alex, Jodie, and Sam as they watched Dean carry you up the stairs, your protests and giggles filling the air.

Sam chuckled, his heart feeling lighter as he watched the scene unfold.

"I don't think anyone's getting any sleep tonight", he remarked.

Jodie joined in the laughter, shaking her head incredulously. "Well, at least they're having fun", she said with a chuckle. "Let's just hope they work everything out".

Sam nodded in agreement, his gaze drifting towards the house where you and Dean had disappeared. He couldn't help but feel hopeful that the two of you would find your way back to each other.

Dean pushed open the door of your room with his foot, his lips curling into a playful smirk as he carried you over the threshold. He carefully set you down on your feet, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment longer than necessary.

You looked up at Dean, your eyes filled with affection and sincerity as you spoke softly, "I love you, Dean".

Dean's smile softened as he gazed into your eyes, his expression filled with affection. "I love you too", he whispered, his voice tinged with sincerity. "And please, if there's ever anything you don't want, just tell me. I'll stop, no questions asked".

His hands rested gently on your waist, pulling you closer as he leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips.

As Dean's lips met yours, you felt a rush of warmth spread through your body, melting into the kiss. His cologne enveloped you, heightening your senses, while the sensation of his beard stubble against your skin sent shivers down your spine. The kiss intensified, becoming more passionate and fervent with each passing moment.

Dean's lips moved against yours with a tender urgency, his touch gentle yet firm as he sought to convey his love and desire for you. His hands cradled your face delicately, his fingertips tracing the contours of your cheeks with featherlight caresses. With each kiss, he poured his emotions into the moment, his lips moving in a slow, sensual dance with yours.

As the intensity of the kiss deepened, Dean's movements became more deliberate, his lips exploring every inch of yours with a reverence that spoke volumes of his affection. His kisses were soft and lingering, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of your lips against his own. With each press of his mouth against yours, he conveyed his love and devotion, his touch speaking volumes of the tenderness he held for you.

Dean's embrace was warm and protective, his arms enveloping you in a cocoon of safety and love. He held you close, as if afraid to let you go, his touch reassuring and comforting. In that moment, there was no doubt in your mind that Dean would do anything to protect you, to cherish you, and to show you just how much you meant to him.

He pushed you gently towards the bed, his touch firm yet tender as he guided you to the soft mattress below. With a deft movement, he lifted you up and carefully placed you down, his hands supporting you as you settled against the bed.

Once you were nestled on the mattress, Dean hovered over you, his gaze intense as he looked down at you with a mixture of desire and adoration. His body radiated warmth as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours as he brushed his lips against yours in another lingering kiss.

You melted beneath him, the sensation of his weight pressing down on you sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he trailed kisses along your jawline and down the curve of your neck.

Dean met your gaze with a mixture of longing and reverence as he carefully began to unbutton the flannel shirt you were wearing, his fingers moving with deliberate care as he revealed the soft curves of your naked breasts underneath. With each button undone, his breath hitched in his throat, his eyes drinking in the sight of your exposed skin with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

As the flannel fell away, pooling around your waist, Dean's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of your bare chest rising and falling with each breath. The vulnerability of the moment hung heavy in the air, but it was tempered by the overwhelming sense of intimacy and connection that flowed between you.

Dean's fingertips traced lightly over your skin.

As he leaned down, his lips met the delicate skin of your neck, his kisses soft and slow as he made his way down to your breasts. With each press of his lips, your heart quickened, the sensation of his warm breath against your skin igniting a fire deep within you.

You gasped softly as Dean's lips finally met the curve of your breast.

Dean's mouth moved with purpose, his kisses growing more urgent as he lavished attention on your sensitive skin. With gentle yet firm movements, he took one of your hardened nipples between his lips, sucking it gently as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud.

You gasped at the sudden sensation, a wave of pleasure coursing through you as Dean's warm mouth enveloped your nipple. His movements were slow and deliberate, each suck sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

"Dean", you moaned softly, your fingers tangling in his hair as you arched your back, offering yourself completely to him. The feeling of his lips and tongue on your skin was exquisite, a sweet torture that left you yearning for more.

Dean hummed in response, the vibrations sending delicious shivers down your spine as he continued to lavish attention on your breast. His touch was both tender and demanding.

Dean's lips trailed down your stomach, leaving a trail of hot kisses in their wake. As he reached the waistband of your jeans, he paused, looking up at you with a mixture of desire and reverence in his eyes.

"Can I…?", he murmured softly, as he gestured towards your jeans and panties. His gaze was intense, seeking your permission before proceeding further.

You nodded, a silent affirmation of consent as you met Dean's gaze. He leaned forward, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your jeans and slowly pulling them down, along with your panties, revealing your naked form to him.

Feeling a bit nervous, you couldn't help but tense up slightly as Dean's gaze lingered on your exposed body.

Dean's hands gently rested on your hips as he knelt in front of you.

"You okay?", he asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he waited for your response.

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as you met Dean's gaze. "Yeah", you whispered. "I'm okay… just a little nervous".

Dean's expression softened with understanding as he reached up, his fingers trailing lightly along your thighs. "We'll take things slow, I promise".

He licked his lips nervously, his hands trembling slightly as he gently spread your legs apart, his fingers tracing along the soft skin of your inner thighs.

His eyes flickered down between your thighs, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of your glistening folds. The heat between you pulsed with a primal urgency, the tension thickening in the air as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above your core.

You inhaled sharply as Dean's lips made contact with your heat, a shiver running down your spine at the sensation. His touch was gentle yet deliberate, his lips trailing kisses along your sensitive skin with a tender reverence. Each caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire deep within your core as you surrendered to the intoxicating sensation.

Dean kissed your folds again, his lips lingering against your delicate skin before his thumb brushed over them, tracing a path from your tight opening up to your sensitive bundle of nerves. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his touch sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you as he sighed heavily, lost in the moment.

Dean shifted slightly and then pressed a slow, sloppy kiss against your clit. The sensation was electrifying, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. With just that touch, you couldn't hold back any longer. A loud moan escaped your lips as you shuddered underneath him, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as your body was consumed by the overwhelming ecstasy of release.

Dean's eyes widened in amazement as he watched you succumb to the throes of pleasure, your body trembling with the intensity of your climax. His voice was filled with astonishment as he spoke, his words barely above a whisper. "I barely touched you", he murmured, his tone tinged with awe and disbelief.

You chuckled breathlessly, the aftershocks of pleasure still coursing through your body as you spoke. "Yeah, it's been a while", you murmured, your voice laced with satisfaction and a hint of amusement.

"Well, looks like I've still got some work to do then", Dean grinned.

Dean lowered his head between your thighs. You gasped as he flicked his tongue teasingly against your swollen clit.

With a deft touch, he added a finger, sliding it inside you slowly, the sensation causing you to arch your back and moan in ecstasy. He moved his tongue in slow circles, alternating between gentle licks and firm sucks, each movement driving you closer to the edge.

As he continued to pleasure you with his mouth and finger, your breath quickened, your fingers digging into the sheets as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations.

Dean carefully added a second finger, feeling the tightness of your walls as he struggled to push them both inside you. He could feel your body tensing with each movement, the pleasure mixed with a hint of discomfort.

"Easy, sweetheart", he murmured softly, his voice filled with concern as he gently stroked your thigh. "I've got you. Just relax and let me take care of you".

He continued to move his fingers in a slow, steady rhythm, his touch becoming more confident as he felt your body responding to his ministrations. With each thrust, he searched for that perfect angle, determined to bring you the maximum pleasure while ensuring your comfort.

As he worked to stretch and prepare you, his gaze never left your face, his eyes filled with tenderness and a fierce desire to please you. He wanted nothing more than to make this experience as pleasurable and memorable as possible for you, to show you how much he cared for you in every touch and caress.

Feeling your tension continuing, Dean paused for a moment. "It's okay, just breathe", he reassured you softly, his voice filled with warmth and understanding.

With a deep breath, you tried to relax, but the tightness persisted. Sensing your discomfort, Dean leaned down, pressing a tender kiss against your inner thigh before trailing his lips upwards.

As he continued to work, Dean noticed your struggle to relax. With a determined yet gentle touch, he moistened his fingers with his saliva, mixing it with your wetness to ease the way. He made sure to move slowly and carefully, applying just enough pressure to stretch you without causing any pain.

As Dean's fingertips brushed against your G-spot, a jolt of pleasure shot through you, causing your body to arch instinctively towards his touch. At the same time, his lips closed around your clit, sending waves of sensation radiating through you.

Your breath hitched as pleasure surged through every nerve ending, the exquisite sensation overwhelming your senses. You grasped at the sheets beneath you, your nails digging into the fabric as you surrendered to the pleasure Dean was giving you.

Dean's movements became more deliberate, his fingers curling inside you to apply pressure to your G-spot while his tongue flicked and teased your clit with expert precision. Each stroke sent pulses of pleasure coursing through you, building the tension to an almost unbearable peak.

You moaned and whimpered, unable to form coherent words as pleasure consumed you entirely.

But before you could come, he pulled his lips away.

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want to feel you come around me”.

You whimpered in frustration, your body trembling with need as Dean’s fingers withdrew from inside you. Despite your protests, he shifted his position, moving to hover above you once again.

“I want to be inside you when you come”, he murmured as he positioned himself between your legs. “I want to feel you tighten around me".

With a hungered look in his eyes, Dean shed his clothes swiftly, revealing his toned, sculpted body. He knelt before you, his gaze locked with yours as he gave himself a few firm pumps, his arousal evident and pulsing with need.

Reaching for the lube on the nightstand, Dean poured a generous amount into his hand, coating himself thoroughly as he prepared to enter you. His movements were deliberate, yet filled with urgency, aching to feel the connection between you deepen with each touch.

As the wet sounds of Dean pumping his dick with lube filled the room, you couldn't help but tense slightly. Your gaze remained fixed on Dean, watching as he prepared himself.

"I won't do anything you're not comfortable with. Just tell me if you want me to stop", Dean mumbled as he saw your look.

"I trust you, Dean".

With a tender smile, Dean leaned in to press a reassuring kiss against your lips before resuming his preparations. As he positioned himself between your legs once again, you braced yourself for the wave of pleasure and intimacy that was about to wash over you.

Dean's breath hitched as he guided himself inside you, his movements slow and deliberate as he sought to ease his way into your warmth. Despite his gentleness, you couldn't suppress a sharp intake of breath, the sensation of being filled causing a dull ache to bloom deep within you.

"Easy, sweetheart", Dean murmured, his voice strained with effort as he fought to control his own desires. "Just relax for me".

You nodded, trying to obey his instructions as you focused on the sensation of Dean stretching you inch by inch. Each movement sent sparks of discomfort shooting through your body, but you gritted your teeth and bore through it, knowing that Dean needed this connection as much as you did.

Dean's panting grew heavier with each inch of progress, his body trembling with the effort of holding himself back. He met your gaze with a mixture of desire and concern, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

"God, you're so tight", he gasped, his voice strained with need as he finally buried himself fully inside you. "Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?".

You clenched your jaw, determined not to let the pain overwhelm you. "I'm okay", you whispered, your voice trembling with effort. "Just give me a moment".

As you both took a moment to adjust to the sensation of being joined together. Despite the discomfort, you knew that this moment was precious, a testament to the strength of your bond with Dean.

Dean leaned down, pressing tender kisses along your jawline as his body stilled inside you, giving you the time you needed to adjust to the intimacy between you. With each gentle touch of his lips, he tried to push aside the memories of how he had hurt you, focusing instead on the overwhelming love and desire he felt for you in this moment.

As Dean's lips brushed against yours, you felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a longing to be closer to him than ever before. With each kiss, each caress, you allowed yourself to let go of the past and embrace the present, reveling in the sensation of finally feeling each other this intensely again.

Dean’s lips trailed from your jaw down to your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses in their wake. His breath was hot against your skin as he whispered, “Can I move, sweetheart?”.

You nodded, a small gasp escaping your lips as you felt him begin to shift inside you.

Dean slowly pulled out, his movements deliberate and controlled, before gently pushing back inside. Your jaw clenched in response to the sensation, a mixture of pain and pleasure.

With both of his hands planted firmly beside your head, Dean began to move with a steady rhythm. Your hands found their way to his biceps, gripping them tightly as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure of being with him.

Despite the lingering discomfort, the sensation of Dean filling you completely washed over you, leaving you gasping for breath as waves of pleasure rippled through your body.

Dean's voice was husky with desire as he whispered, "You okay, sweetheart?"-

You nodded, a soft moan escaping your lips as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment.

Dean's breath hitched as he praised you, his voice a low, husky murmur against your ear. "You feel so good, sweetheart", he grunted, his words punctuated by the tightness and intensity of the sensation. "So damn tight… fuck, I've missed this".

Each word was accompanied by a thrust and Dean's movements became more purposeful as he searched for that sweet spot within you.

“There it is”, he grunted, a soft grin tugging at the corners of his lips as he felt the intensity of your reaction. With each thrust, the head of his cock brushed against it, your body responded eagerly to his touch, arching up to meet him as he continued to hit that perfect spot with each rhythmic thrust.

With each thrust, Dean pushed you closer and closer to the edge until finally, you couldn't hold back any longer. A loud moan escaped your lips as your walls clenched tightly around him, pulsing with the intensity of your release.

Feeling you tighten around him sent Dean over the edge as well, his control slipping away as he succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure. With a low groan, he buried himself deep inside you, his hips bucking against yours as he found his own release.

Dean panted heavily above you, his body slick with sweat as he slowly began to soften inside you. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he tried to catch his breath.

"Damn, sweetheart", he murmured. "That was… incredible".

You smiled up at him.

"Yeah", you agreed softly. "It was".

The two of you lay there for a moment, reveling in the intimacy and connection you shared, before Dean pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

Dean rolled off of you, his arms immediately wrapping around you as he pulled you close. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his touch tender and loving as he held you against his chest.

"You okay?", he asked again and brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

You nodded, snuggling closer to him as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. "Yeah", you whispered. "I'm more than okay".

Two hours later, you were on top and as you rode Dean with a fervent rhythm, your bodies moving in perfect sync, the heat between you intensified with each thrust. Dean's hands tightened around your waist, guiding your movements as you found a pace that drove both of you wild.

His breath was hot as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing against your skin with each exhale. You could feel the tension building in his body, his efforts to hold back his release evident in the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch.

You leaned into his embrace, relishing in the feeling of being so intimately connected with him.

With each movement, your moans filled the room, a symphony of pleasure echoing off the walls. Your palms pressed against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your touch as you drove him deeper into ecstasy.

Dean's own moans mingled with yours, his voice a low, guttural sound of desire as he surrendered himself to the sensations coursing through his body. He held you close, his grip tightening around your waist.

Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on your bodies, neither of you could bear to stop, the magnetic pull between you too strong to resist.

In the midst of your shared ecstasy, Dean's voice broke through the haze of pleasure, husky with desire as he murmured, "I can't… I can't stop, baby. Not yet…".

You echoed his sentiment with a breathless plea, your voice filled with need as you begged for more, unable to imagine a moment without the intoxicating sensation of him filling you completely.

But as you tightened around him, a low groan escaped Dean's lips, his hands gripping your waist with renewed urgency. His breath hitched as he fought to maintain control, each clench of your muscles driving him closer to the brink of release.

"Fuck", he muttered, his voice strained with desire. "You feel so good, baby. Keep going…".

You responded with a fervent nod, your movements becoming more frenzied.

As the intensity between you escalated, Dean's hips met yours with a relentless rhythm, each thrust driving you both higher and closer to the edge.

"That's it, baby. Just like that", he murmured.

You responded with a gasp, your nails digging into his chest as pleasure surged through you.

As the wave of pleasure crashed over you, you clenched around Dean with an intensity that sent him over the edge. Your walls pulsed rhythmically around him, coaxing him closer and closer to his own release.

With a guttural groan, Dean's body tensed beneath you as he succumbed to the ecstasy washing over him. His hips met yours one final time, driving himself deep inside you as he spilled his essence, his orgasm merging with yours in a symphony of bliss.

Your bodies trembled with the aftershocks of pleasure, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you clung to each other in the aftermath. The intensity of the moment left you both spent and sated, wrapped in the warm embrace of your shared passion.

Sam chuckled softly as he joined Jodie in the kitchen, noticing the fatigue etched into her features.

"Can't sleep either?", he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Jodie let out a tired sigh, a weary smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "By this noise? Not a chance", she replied as she gestured vaguely in the direction of your room where you and Dean were undoubtedly still lost in each other's embrace.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, seems like they’re making up for lost time”.

Jodie chuckled, shaking her head. "Quiet the reunion they're having, huh?".

Sam chuckled, handing jodie a beer. "Yeah, that's one way to put it".

Jodie let herself sink into a chair, rubbing her temples.

Just then, Claire joined them. "Seriously, did you guys hear them? It's like a full-blown production next door", she muttered.

Jodie groaned, shaking her head. "Tell me about it. I don't think we'll ever get any sleep with those two going at it". Sam chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. "Well, at least they're happy", he remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Claire rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but do they have to be so loud about it? I feel like I'm in a bad rom-com". Jodie chuckled, rubbing her temples further. "I just hope they wear themselves out soon. I don't think I can handle another night of this".

Sam nodded in agreement, glancing towards the ceiling where the faint sounds of your passionate reunion could still be heard.

That’s when Dean, just clothed in some sweatpants tried to tiptoed down the stairs, getting a bottle of water. A pleased grin of his face. He stopped in his tracks as he spotted Sam, Jodie and Claire with smirks and raised eyebrows looking at him

He froze mid-step. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Dean attempted to play it cool. "Uh, hey guys", he greeted them, trying to act nonchalant as he reached for a bottle of water.

"Late-night workout, Dean?", Jodie quipped, her tone dripping with amusement.

Dean's cheeks flushed slightly, but he couldn't suppress the satisfied grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. "Something like that", he replied, his voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and pride.

Sam chuckled, giving Dean a playful pat on the back. "Well, it's good to see you both working things out".

"Just try to keep it down next time, will ya?", Jodie joked.

"No promises", he replied with a grin, before retreating back upstairs with his bottle of water, leaving the others in the kitchen.

As Dean stepped back into the room, he shed his sweatpants and approached the bed, his gaze softening as he looked at your half-asleep form. Climbing back into bed, he brushed a strand of hair gently away from your face, his touch tender and affectionate.

"Hey, sweetheart", he murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth. "You should drink something before you go to sleep. I brought you some water".

You blinked groggily, your tired eyes fluttering open as Dean offered you the bottle of water. Taking it with a grateful sigh, you lifted it to your lips and took a few slow sips, feeling the cool liquid soothing your parched throat.

"Thanks, Dean", you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so tired… I feel like I could sleep for a week".

Your muscles ached from the intensity of your earlier activities, and exhaustion weighed heavily on your limbs. All you wanted was to sink into the comforting embrace of sleep, wrapped in Dean's arms.

Dean lay down beside you, pulling you close against his chest, his arms wrapped protectively around you. As you snuggled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours, a sense of peace washed over you.

"I've got you", Dean whispered softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Just relax. I'll be right here".

You sighed contentedly, nuzzling closer to him. "I love you", you murmured sleepily, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a sense of security. "I love you too", Dean whispered back, his voice filled with tenderness. "Sweet dreams, sweetheart".

———————————

A/N: That´s it <3 Please let me know what you think.🥰 

-

Taglist: @mayafatimakhan

[genshinluvr]

Burning Desire 4

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Isekai'd!Reader (Al Haitham x Isekai'd!Reader)

Summary: Awaken from your slumber due to the burning pit in your stomach, you decide to take a shower early morning, hoping it will cool you off. After your shower, you leave your bedroom to see a shirtless Al Haitham reading a book at your desk. You weren't sure why Al Haitham is in your bedroom, but he has his reasons for visiting you.

Note: I've been busy dealing with some things outside of my fanfics, and I haven't been able to type as much as I would like. Therefore, Al Haitham's smut is a bit shorter than the previous routes in the Burning Desire smut series. Again, the smut routes aren't supposed to be as long as the first "chapter" of the series and Crave. It's pure smut and has no plot, so some smut will be shorter depending on how it flows. As previously stated in my previous smut-fics, I tried to keep the story as gender-neutral as possible. All of my smuts do lean towards female!reader/AFAB!reader with gender-neutral pronouns. As usual, minors DO NOT INTERACT! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Horribly written smut, as per usual ✨ slight masturbation/groping (?), orgasm denial, mating press, fingering, handjob, cervix fucking, slight choking, doggy style, slight overstimulation, slight voyeurism

Word Count: 4.1k

Burning Desire "chapters"/routes: [1], [2], [3], [4]

You tried to sleep, but the burning pit in your stomach was unbearable. You’re worn out from getting dicked down by Scaramouche and Tighnari, and you can use some sleep. Unfortunately for you, it doesn’t look like that’s going to be happening any time soon. You would fall asleep for a few hours but wake up to the unbearable throbbing between your legs. You need someone to drill their cock into you, or else you will go crazy. 

The first thing you did when you wake up for the umpteenth time in the middle of the night is to masturbate. It provided a small amount of relief, but the same feeling will come back. The same burning desire will hit you like a sumpter beast, causing you to writhe around on your bed despite having your fingers buried deep in your entrance and cumming multiple times. Okay, well, ‘multiple times’ is a bit of an exaggeration— three times is the correct number.

Archons, you even went as far as taking a cold shower at four in the morning while everyone was still sleeping in their beds. You’re hoping the men who have a keen sense of hearing and smell don’t wake up to your activities. That would be even more embarrassing. The shower lasts almost two hours— your body’s really hot, and the cold water raining down on you feels so nice that it nearly makes you forget that you inhaled a large amount of aphrodisiac. 

You step out of your bathroom, hair still drenched from your shower. You stop in your tracks when you see the Scribe sitting at your desk, reading a book. You blink at Al Haitham and peek at the clock in your bedroom. It’s almost six in the morning, and yet the gray-haired man is in your bedroom, wearing nothing but gray silk pajama pants.

You rub your eyes and gingerly sit on your bed. “Al Haitham? What are you doing up around this time?” You ask, getting under your blanket.

You squeeze your eyes shut briefly when the ache between your legs spikes up when you press your thighs together. You’re hoping that Al Haitham either leaves your room soon or he buries his cock inside you until you wake up everyone in the abode. Your mind is constantly racing ever since you breathe in the aphrodisiac, and you can never get peace of mind. Al Haitham closes his book, turning to face you and spreading his legs wide open. You gulp and look away, running your hands through your damp hair to distract yourself from looking at the faint tent forming in his pajama pants. 

Al Haitham rests his arm on the armrest, staring at you intently in the darkness of your room. Light peeking through the blackout curtains of your room, illuminating your bedroom. You gulp and hug your knees to your chest, waiting for Al Haitham to say something. Al Haitham sighs and leans back in his seat; you can see his muscles ripple and flex whenever he moves. Archons, he is so handsome. 

“I wanted to check up on you. I didn’t think you’d be awake so early,” says Al Haitham, crossing his arms over his chest.

Archons. The way his biceps flexes when he crosses his arms over his chest. You gulp and lie down, not taking your eyes off the gray-haired Scribe. Why is Al Haitham acting so casual with you when he knows you’re having inner turmoil. You want to skin yourself alive for feeling this way. The intense need for someone to be buried balls deep inside your entrance until you’re crying and begging for them to give you a break.

You nod, trying to act casual. “My bedroom was hot, and I was sweating in my sleep. I didn’t want to lay in a puddle of sweat, so I went to take a shower,” you lie.

Al Haitham hums, nodding slowly. You curl up into a ball, waiting for Al Haitham to leave your room. Judging by the way he’s sitting on the chair near your desk, you don’t think he will be leaving your bedroom any time soon. Al Haitham suddenly stands up, stretching his arms in the air and yawning. You blink and quickly look at the tent in his pants before looking away before Al Haitham can catch you in the act. You pretend to look at the clock, gesturing to it.

“I think you should go to bed. It’s still early in the morning,” you say, pulling your blanket up to your chin and closing your eyes. 

Al Haitham raises his eyebrows at you. “Oh? You want me to leave already? I thought you would want me to help you with your problem,” Al Haitham says nonchalantly, walking toward your bed.

You crack an eye open and nearly jump out of your skin when you see how close he is to you. Al Haitham kneels on your bed and towers over you, caging you against your bed with his arms on both sides of your head while you look up at him like a deer caught in headlights. Al Haitham tilts his head, cocking an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to respond. 

You clear your throat, snuggling deep into your blanket to distract yourself from Al Haitham’s stare and the dampness pooling in your underwear. Al Haitham is so freaking breathless— the veins on his arms are driving you crazy. He’s so handsome, and he knows it. Al Haitham clears his throat, grabbing you by the chin to have you look into his eyes. 

“Are you going to answer my question or not?” Al Haitham asks.

You nod sheepishly, making Al Haitham look at you skeptically. 

“Is that a yes to the question I just asked or the previous question?”

You stare at Al Haitham and rub the back of your neck. “I do want you to help me, but it’s embarrassing, and it’s too early in the morning to be having sex,” you mutter.

Al Haitham clicks his tongue and releases your chin, now sitting at the edge of your bed. You sit up and rest your chin on your knees, staring at the gray-haired man before you. Al Haitham leans back and runs his fingers through his bedhead. Archons, his bedhead is too cute. For someone who’s aching to get railed, you act like a prude— despite having two men fucking a couple of orgasms from you.

Al Haitham strokes his chin. “You don’t have to worry about waking the others if you can keep your volume to a minimum,” Al Haitham comments, grabbing at his aching cock through his silk pajamas.

You gulp and watch Al Haitham stroke and squeeze his cock. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you realize Al Haitham is staring at you, waiting for you to respond. How are you going to keep your volume at a minimal volume when you have something thick or long pistoning into your entrance?

“But there are people in the abode that have a keen sense of hearing, Al Haitham,” you whine.

Al Haitham squeezes the base of his cock through his pajama pants, grunting quietly when you whine his name. You cover your face, trying to get the image of Al Haitham hovering over you out of your head. Al Haitham releases his dick and crawls over you, pinning you down on your bed.

“So? What are they going to do about it, hmm? I am helping you, aren’t I?” Al Haitham mutters, brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek before peppering kisses on your cheek.

Al Haitham is not wrong about that. The aphrodisiac is still in your system, and it doesn’t seem like it’s not going away any time soon. Plus, the aphrodisiac is just the same as it was when the symptoms kicked in. You don’t think you can handle the thought of Al Haitham plowing into you while the others are asleep and when Gorou and Tighnari can wake up to the littlest sounds coming from you.

You close your eyes, wrapping your arms around Al Haitham’s shoulders as he kisses down your neck, lightly nibbling and biting your neck. You shiver and dig your nails into his back as Al Haitham latches his lips into your collarbone, lightly sucking on it. 

Al Haitham murmurs against your neck, “If you want me to stop, let me know, and I’ll stop.”

You run your fingers through Al Haitham’s hair, tilting your head to the side to give him some room to suck on your neck.

You let out a shaky sigh when he sucks on your neck. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper, tugging on his hair.

Al Haitham smirks against your neck and stops sucking on your neck. Al Haitham grabs your blanket and rips it off your body, leaving you only in your oversized t-shirt. You hear a sharp intake of breath from Al Haitham when he sees that you’re not wearing anything underneath the large t-shirt.

“You naughty little thing,” Al Haitham whispers, shaking his head with a smirk.

You whine and hide your face with one hand while attempting to pull your shirt down to cover your exposed groin with the other. Al Haitham clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval. Al Haitham grabs you by your wrist and pins them over your head with one hand while lifting your shirt until your chest is exposed. 

Al Haitham spreads your legs with his knees before kneeling between your legs. Al Haitham releases your shirt and lifts your leg. Al Haitham swipes his index and middle finger up your wet entrance, making you jolt with surprise. You tremble beneath Al Haitham as he continues to coat his fingers in your slick, muttering about how wet you are for him. 

“Al Haitham, please…” You trail off, gazing at him through your lashes.

Al Haitham plunges his middle and ring finger into your entrance. You tense up and let out a choked gasp. You tried to cover your mouth to muffle your moans, but you couldn’t free yourself from Al Haitham’s iron grip. You wrap your legs around his waist as he pulls his fingers out from your entrance before slamming them back into your gummy walls, making you writhe and arch your back beneath him. 

Archons, you’re so wet that every time Al Haitham thrusts his fingers into your sopping-wet cavern, you and Al Haitham would hear squelching, and your juices would coat the inside of your thighs. Al Haitham groans, feeling how tight you are around his fingers. Your back arches every time Al Haitham’s long fingers jab a particular spot inside you, causing you to choke out a moan and clench around his fingers.

“Al Haitham…” You whimper, attempting to free yourself from his iron grip.

Al Haitham suddenly pulls his fingers out. You nearly whine at the feeling of emptiness. Al Haitham releases your wrists before grabbing your shirt collar with both hands, tearing your shirt in half. You watch Al Haitham toss your shirt to the side carelessly before taking his pajama pants, leaving him only in his black boxers. 

You can see his bulge clear as day— the tent in his boxers is bigger than it was before. Al Haitham cages you against your bed with his arms before pressing his lips against yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pressing your bare entrance against Al Haitham’s pulsating cock. The only thing that is getting in the way of you feeling Al Haitham’s cock is his boxers.

Al Haitham breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against your shoulders, breathing heavily. Al Haitham begins grinding his clothed cock against your entrance. You panted, eyes rolling to the back of your head when his cock rubbed up against your swollen bundle of nerves. You clench around nothing, biting on your lips to muffle your gasps. Al Haitham blindly reaches down to his boxers and begins taking his underwear off and tossing them to the ground beside your bed. You sigh in relief when you feel his hot cock press against your entrance. You peek down to see Al Haitham’s cock— the bulbous tip is red with need, pre-cum beading at the tip. 

Al Haitham slowly ruts his cock against your entrance, coating the base of his cock in your essence. You reach down to grab his cock by the base, gently squeezing them. Al Haitham hisses and squeezes his eyes shut. You gently stroke his cock before rubbing the mushroom tip of his cock with your thumb, spreading his pre-cum around. 

“You’re incredibly sensitive, Al Haitham,” you murmur, giving his cock a light squeeze.

Al Haitham hisses again before burying his face into the crook of your neck, panting heavily against your neck as you continue to stroke his cock. You stoke his throbbing dick slowly, making sure to lightly squeeze the tip and rub the tip of your thumb over the mushroom tip. Al Haitham releases a guttural moan and bucks into your hands, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when you tighten your grip around his red cock. 

You continue pumping Al Haitham’s throbbing member until Al Haitham lets out a choked moan. Al Haitham grabs your wrist and forcibly removes your hand from his dick. Al Haitham gulps, pinning your hand to your side as he tries to catch his breath. 

You press your lips into a thin line. “I almost made Al Haitham cum.” You can’t help but feel proud of yourself for being able to (almost) have Al Haitham cum with just your hands.

Al Haitham looks at you and slowly stands, brushing his messy hair from his face. Al Haitham grabs you by the waist and pulls you down. You squeal and gasp when Al Haitham slaps your already aching entrance. Al Haitham grabs your engorged bundle of nerves and pinches them hard. You grit your teeth and curl your toes, legs shaking as Al Haitham rubs the nub at a fierce pace. 

You grab Al Haitham’s wrists, attempting to get him to stop before he makes you cum. “Stop, stop, stop, stop! I’m going to cum if you don’t stop!” You whine as you flail your legs around.

The tight knot forms at the bottom of your abdomen, getting incredibly tighter while Al Haitham continues to pinch, twist, and rub your swollen, aching nub. You shudder and tense up, preparing yourself for your impending orgasm. When the tight knot in your lower abdomen is about to snap and unleash the floodgates, Al Haitham releases your throbbing nub.

You look at Al Haitham, eyes wide and chest heaving with heavy breaths. “Al Haitham! Why’d you stop!?” you whine softly, grabbing his wrist and shaking his arm.

Al Haitham spreads your legs and slaps your sopping-wet entrance, making you involuntarily clench around nothing. You rest your head on your pillow and close your eyes, trying to catch your breath while Al Haitham coats the underside of his cock with your slick. You gasp softly when you feel Al Haitham’s hot cock rubs against your puffy entrance.

You’re not sure if you’re feeling extra needy because of the aphrodisiac or if it’s because Al Haitham denied you of your orgasm. Maybe it’s both. Al Haitham lifts your legs by the thighs, having your calves rest on his shoulders as he lines the tip of his cock at your entrance. Archons, this isn’t going to be the first time getting railed by your boyfriends, but for some reason, you can’t help but feel nervous about it. Sensing your anxiousness, Al Haitham kisses the back of your calves and gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze. You smile at Al Haitham and swallow your saliva. You grip Al Haitham’s thighs, gently digging your nails into his flesh. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and brace yourself. Al Haitham rubs the bulbous tip of his dick against your fluttery entrance before slowly entering your drenched hole. Your jaws drop, letting out a string of moans when Al Haitham’s mushroom tip breaches your entrance. You unintentionally clench your thighs around his waist, tensing below Al Haitham the more he sinks his cock into your gummy walls with a semi-loud moan.

You whimper when Al Haitham’s thick cock stretches you out. You squeeze your thighs around Al Haitham’s waist, causing him to stop halfway in your hot cavern. Al Haitham pants, balling his hands into fists beside your head. Al Haitham closes his eyes, relishing the feeling of your gummy walls clamping around his throbbing dick.

Al Haitham leans over you, his chest pressing against your face while he buries his face into your pillow. “Try to relax for me, baby. Please,” Al Haitham rasps, reaching down to grab your hand.

You whimper, holding Al Haitham’s hands and interlocking your fingers with his. “I-I’m trying,” you whisper, eyebrows furrowing while trying to relax and adjust to Al Haitham’s size.

Al Haitham nudges his nose against yours, his lips ghosting over yours. Al Haitham presses his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers when he sinks further into your heat. You wrap your legs around Al Haitham’s slim waist, heels digging into his ass cheeks. Al Haitham grunts into your mouth, balls deep inside your entrance. 

Al Haitham stretching your hole is painful— you could’ve sworn that if Al Haitham was any thicker than he already is, he’d stretch you out so much that your entrance would rip to shreds. You can literally feel the skin stretch to accommodate his girth. You wrap your arm around Al Haitham’s shoulders while squeezing Al Haitham’s hand with the other. 

Al Haitham gently thrusts forward to test the waters. You clench around Al Haitham’s cock, panting into his mouth. Al Haitham pulls away from the kiss and kisses your jawline while pressing his chest against yours, refusing to release your hand. Your thighs are shaking as you try your best to relax and not tense up each time Al Haitham thrusts lightly into you.

Al Haitham can feel you tremble while peppering kisses on your jaws and neck. He gently massages your inner thighs, closing his eyes while trying to adjust to the tightness of your entrance.

You unclench your legs around Al Haitham’s waist and signal him to start. Al Haitham pushes himself off you and kneels between your legs, lifting your legs up, and begins thrusting into your drenched entrance at a steady pace. You pant, eyes rolling to the back of your head every time Al Haitham thrusts in and out of your hole. The veiny base of Al Haitham’s cock rubs against the gummy walls of your warm, tight cavern, sending you to Celestia and back. 

“Fuck, Al Haitham,” you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut each time Al Haitham buries his cock into you. 

Al Haitham chokes out a moan, hugging your legs to his chest while thrusting. Al Haitham lifts your legs up until your ass is hanging above the bed. Al Haitham leans forward, folding you in half until your feet are above your head. You grunt when you feel the muscles of your thighs strain under the pressure. Al Haitham kisses the back of your calves, pulling his cock out until only the tip remains.

Al Haitham plunges only the tip of his cock in and out of your entrance, making you wince and shudder at the strange feeling. If you could describe how it feels, it feels like Al Haitham is almost scooping your insides out. It’s hard for you to put your finger on it— it’s the best way you can describe it, and it feels strange. You don’t think anyone has ever fucked you with just the tip of their cock.

Al Haitham continues to plunge the tip of his dick into your entrance repeatedly. You tense up, whimper, and clamp your thighs together. Without warning, Al Haitham thrusts his cock all the way into your drooling hole. Al Haitham chokes a moan and collapses on top of you when your gummy walls clench around his member. 

Al Haitham props himself up on his forearms and begins pumping his cock in and out of your entrance. Your thigh muscles strain under Al Haitham’s weight, making you whimper and grunt at the feeling. Al Haitham hooks one leg over his shoulder while wrapping the other around his waist without stopping or slowing down. Al Haitham grabs your throat with one hand before aggressively pressing his lips against yours, quickening his pace.

You bite Al Haitham’s lips, making him growl and slam his dick into you so hard that you see stars dancing behind your vision. Al Haitham swallows your wails as you try to keep your voice down. Much to your dismay, a familiar feeling starts building up in your lower abdomen as Al Haitham continues to abuse your hole with his thick cock sooner than you thought.

You break the kiss, panting and squealing as Al Haitham drills his cock deep into you. “Al Haitham! I’m going to cum,” you whine, weakly punching his shoulders.

Al Haitham slides his hands down from your throat to your groin and slaps your puffy entrance, making sure to hit your bundle of nerves. You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes shut, tightening your leg around Al Haitham’s waist. Al Haitham starts rubbing your engorged nub aggressively, making sure to piston his cock into your g-spot. 

Al Haitham leans down and bites your neck hard, his eyes rolling to the back of his head when your gummy walls squeeze his cock so tightly that thick ropes of hot cum spurt into you. You whimper cum around his cock, back arching, chest pressing against Al Haitham’s heaving chest, eyes rolling to the back of your head as stars spin and dance behind your eyelids. You go limp and lay beneath Al Haitham in a daze, trying to catch your breath as your groin continues to pulse.

Al Haitham pulls his cock out from your now-sullied entrance before getting off your bed. You peek at Al Haitham to see him standing at the foot of your bed. Al Haitham slicks his hair back before grabbing your ankles and pulling you toward the edge of your bed. You’re too tired to fight back. Instead, you let Al Haitham do as he pleases. Al Haitham spreads your legs, watching his and your mixed cum spill from your pulsing hole. Al Haitham flips you over on your stomach and bends you over with your ass in the air.

“Another round?” You mumble, rubbing your eyes.

Al Haitham grunts in response before slamming his cock back inside. You squeal and grip your bedsheets hard, burying your face into your mattress as Al Haitham pistons his cock into your entrance. Al Haitham spreads your cheeks, watching his and your cum coat his dick and spill onto your bedsheets. The only thing Al Haitham hears are the sounds of your moans and whimpers. Something in the corner of Al Haitham’s eyes distracts him for a moment. Al Haitham looks up to see your bedroom door cracked open and a shadow standing at the doorway. The shadowy figure watches Al Haitham pistons his cock in and out of your sulled, pulsating entrance. Al Haitham smirks at the person, grabs a handful of your hair, and pulls you back toward his chest. You groan and close your eyes, wrapping your arm around his neck while digging your nails into your thighs. Your gummy walls pulse around Al Haitham’s cock as you whimper and writhe in Al Haitham’s grasp. Al Haitham doesn’t take his eyes off the shadowy figure, making sure to give the unknown person a show.

Al Haitham hisses when you clench around his cock, taking his attention away from the unknown person at the door and down at you. You choke out a wail, cumming around Al Haitham’s cock for the second time before going limp while Al Haitham proceeds to pump and grind his cock into your entrance. 

‘I can do this all day,’ Al Haitham pants, filling your hole with cum.

Al Haitham pulls his cock out of your battered entrance, wiping a bead of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Al Haitham glances at the door, only to see that the door is now shut. You curl up in a ball and groan when the mixture of your and Al Haitham’s cum spills out of you. 

You rub your eyes, muttering, “Now I know how creampuffs feel.”

Al Haitham snorts and lays beside you, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest, and pulling a blanket over your body. Al Haitham kisses the side of your head and squeezes you lightly. You moan quietly when you feel cum leaking from your hole as the burning pit in your stomach remains ravenous. 

Note: I won't be posting next week because I decided that it would be a perfect time to take a break from writing and posting for this upcoming week. Not only have I been busy, but I haven't had the motivation to write/continue fanfics because of how exhausted I have been lately. But fear not, I will post the week after my break! I'm thinking about continuing Tragic Outcomes, but we'll have to wait and see about that 🤔 Anyway! Ready to vote for the next route in Burning Desire? Remember to vote for who you want to be in the next fic and read the instructions carefully— which should be simple enough, I hope. Vote for the next route [HERE]! Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

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[hellsitedotcom]

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*·˚ AFTERMATH ft. Aventurine *·˚

words: ~1.6

This is a "continuation" of those First Kiss headcanons I made a couple days back! [Linked in my pinned post]

warnings/info: mentions of drinking, fluff? romance? idk how this works. [AO3 @.evefiction]

English isn't my native language!

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Faint, golden light filtered through the blinds covering the bedroom’s windows, soft rays dancing their way toward your face, leaving a warm, tickling sensation anywhere they touched your skin, gently awakening you from a deep slumber. Instinctively, you moved to scratch your nose, hoping the itchiness would subside as you mourned the few more hours of sleep you could’ve had if it weren’t for the light rays. 

As you slowly opened your eyes, your mind took a minute to process its surroundings, the room you found yourself in an unfamiliar space you don’t remember visiting before. The walls had a foreign, bright color to themselves, the decoration somewhat unique – extravagant. You didn’t remember having ever been to a room like this, nor do you believe any of your companions would decorate their room in such a manner. 

You tried remembering what happened yesterday night, though only tidbits of memories floated around your head. Not to mention the throbbing headache making its presence known now that you were awake. You cursed under your breath, trying to shift around the bed you were lying in, when sudden pressure against your back and waist made you freeze.

‘’Stop moving around so much,’’ a groggy voice mumbled into your nape, its sound all too familiar, ‘’It’s too soon to wake up again.’’ You took a moment to process your new discovery, slightly tilting your head, only to find Aventurine lying behind you, his arm wrapped around your waist, face nuzzled against your neck. 

Your confusion only grew, brows furrowing as you tried to recall more memories while the man tried to fall asleep again. ‘’What are you doing?’’ you inquired, a little lost, ‘’And where even are we? More importantly: Why are you here?’’ You remembered going to a bar with him and, much to your embarrassment, remembered kissing him, but beyond that, your memory was foggy. 

A sigh escaped Aventurine’s lips, quietly complaining about being woken up before he spoke, ‘’We’re in my apartment. Yours was too far away, so we agreed you’d stay the night. Nothing else happened. We were both just tired, and I didn’t really want you walking all the way back alone when I know I have enough space here.’’

You just huffed at his response. ‘’That doesn’t explain your proximity,’’ you thought, though you found yourself almost…happy that he didn’t pull away. Careful not to inconvenience him, you turned onto your back, Aventurine’s grip easing the slightest bit at your movement. 

Tilting your head, you came face-to-face with the man, his eyes barely open, a smirk on his lips, ‘’Hey, sunshine.’’

‘’Hey yourself,’’ you muttered quietly, nervousness briefly taking over your expression as your gaze roamed over his face, ‘’Slept well?’’

‘’Like a baby,’’ he chuckled, moving his hand to brush strands of hair from your eyes. In the dim light, he looked ethereal, more at peace than you had ever seen the blonde man. ‘’And you?’’ his voice was gentle, fingers lingering on your cheek before he pulled away, leaving a burning sensation where he had just touched you, ‘’I hope this was to your standards.’’

Your mind was racing, telling you that you shouldn’t be here, that you should get up and leave. But, as you held the man’s gaze, losing yourself in the ocean of his eyes, you found yourself hoping this moment wouldn’t end. ‘’Listen, the Express doesn’t really have luxury beds,’’ you amusedly replied, your lips twitching, ‘’Besides, I think drunk me would’ve slept on concrete and been happy with it.’’ 

‘’I’ll keep that in mind for next time,’’ Aventurine sleepily laughed, ‘’But I think I’d rather have you sleep in an actual bed.’’ As he turned to stare at the ceiling, you found yourself unable to look away from him, a thoughtful expression on your face. 

This was…You couldn’t even put it into words. You weren’t really…friends, were you? But here you were now, lying next to each other without a care in the world. You were enjoying it even, missing his touch as he pulled away entirely, struggling to fight back the urge to reach for him. You did not want to interrupt the beautiful serenity of the moment, but you knew you eventually had to.

What were you even going to say? ‘’I’ve been meaning to kiss you for a while now’’? You couldn’t possibly admit that, could you? He was, ultimately, still a member of the IPC, and you were a member of the Astral Express. Even if there was a tiny chance that he reciprocated your feelings, there wasn’t really much you could do, was there? The way of the trailblaze didn’t really offer much room for…well, this. Or maybe you were just self-sabotaging again.

A sigh escaped your lips without realizing it, too lost in your spiraling thoughts to notice. Only when Aventurine called out to you did you return to reality, ‘’Is everything alright?’’

‘’Huh? Oh yeah, yeah,’’ you reassured, waving your hand dismissively, ‘’I was just thinking.’’ 

This made him shift to the side, facing you again. There was a hint of worry in his expression, hand coming to rest beside yours, barely touching your skin. ‘’Well, penny for your thoughts?’’ 

You could feel your nervosity growing, knowing that you’ll eventually have to talk about yesterday night, about getting drunk, about…kissing. Well, neither of you seemed particularly bothered by it in the grand scheme of things, but it was a conversation that must be held regardless. 

‘’It’s nothing, really,’’ you tried playing it cool, avoiding his gaze as you looked at your hands, ‘’I was just thinking about yesterday night. I guess I didn’t expect it to…well, you know.’’

‘’End up with you in my bed?’’ he teased, though you could notice the hesitance in his words, ‘’Neither did I, if it makes you feel any better.’’ ‘’To be honest,’’ he continued, chuckling to himself, ‘’I wasn’t expecting you to actually kiss me, either.’’

Surprised, you dragged your eyes back up to his face, ‘’You…didn’t? Why not? I thought that’s why you did it in the first place.’’ It never even occurred to you that there might’ve been a different reason behind his choice of wish, besides him wanting to tease you.

Aventurine yawned weakly, slightly turning away again, ‘’Honestly, I guess a part of me did it to see how far you’d go. The other was just selfish.’’ Then he met your gaze again, uncertainty flickering across his expression, ‘’I’ve been hoping for a moment like that for a while. I guess I never had the guts to just…approach and kiss you without an excuse.’’ 

‘’Why not?’’ The words left your lips before you could stop them, and while you did curse yourself afterward, you didn’t take them back. Expectantly, you stared at him, trying to ignore the butterflies terrorizing your stomach, ‘’I thought you enjoy taking risks?’’

‘’The risk of scaring you off wasn’t something I was…willing to take,’’ he carefully replied, reaching to caress your cheek, ‘’I didn’t want to risk losing you, which is weird to admit ‘cause I’ve never felt like this, but it’s too late to turn back now, isn’t it?’’

His fingers ghosted over your cheek, his eyes not leaving yours as you processed his words. ‘’But asking me while I was drunk seemed like a good idea?’’ you muttered, both confused and amused by his thought process, ‘’Have I ever mentioned how your mind works in fascinating ways?’’

The man just groaned, but you could see the smile form on his lips, ‘’I was feeling confident, okay? Figured I could just…play it off if you decline.’’ ‘’Besides,’’ he interrupted, fully facing you again, ‘’You were the one that actually ended up kissing me. So, you’re not much better than me.’’

‘’I lost the game, big guy. That’s why I kissed you,’’ you argued, chuckling, ‘’No other reason.’’

‘’Sure, sure,’’ he hummed, unconvinced as he leaned closer, ‘’I could tell from how you were kissing me that you only did it for the bet. That’s why you didn’t stop until the IPC called.’’

‘’You’re imagining things,’’ you just replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling, ‘’Wishful thinking, perhaps? Or do I need to be worried that you drank too much? Should I call someone?’’

By now, Aventurine's lips were practically ghosting over yours, just waiting for you to give him a reason to close the gap, "Might I remind you that you weren't drinking any less than me? I'm sure your friends from the Express would love to hear that story."

"Don't you dare," you playfully warned him, nose brushing his, "Unless you want me to text Topaz everything."

"You wouldn't."

"Do you want to find out?"

"...No."

"That's what I thought," you chuckled, smirking, "Now, are you going to kiss me or not?"

Aventurine didn't even wait for you to finish your sentence before pressing his lips against yours, your entire body relaxing under his touch. "You don't have to be anywhere, right?" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you as he pulled you closer.

"Nope," you hummed against him, hands gently cuping his face, "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else, anyway."

The man just smiled before kissing you again, all his emotions conveyed in the simple gesture, taking your breath away as you held his face, thanking whatever higher power blessed you with meeting him.

You wanted to laugh, remembering how only minutes ago you had dismissed the possibility of Aventurine feeling the same as you. Yet, here you were now, in his arms as he kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

And as the sun rose higher, you two found yourself not letting go of each other, aware of the long explanation you'd each have to come up with for your friends and superiors.

[genshin-side-piece]

Hazy Shade of Winter (Part 1)

Warnings: Yandere Content, Implied Kidnapping, Implied Captivity, Implied Stalking, Implied drug use, Mentions of alcohol, ]Non-Consensual Touching, my bad writing, anything else I missed, 18+, Minors DNI

A/N: Slightly (?) OOC Wriothesley. I think. I'm honestly not sure. But fair warning just to be safe.

You awoke to a loud clang. The sharp noise reverberated through your drowsy skull, pulling you from the heavy slumber that had kept you under until this time. Cloudy thoughts were covered by a heavy layer of fog, making it difficult for you to focus. You couldn’t place the source of the sound. Metal had connected with metal, making it distinctly foreign to you. In all the years that you had lived in the Court of Fontaine, you had never heard anything make such a racket. It was doubtful such a disturbance would be tolerated by the general population, let alone your neighbors. The harsh, cutting quality was enough to wake the dead, yet there were no screams that followed it. Just an echo that quickly faded and the sound of air being pushed through pipes.

Air being pushed through pipes? 

The mental fog lifting enough for you to flinch at the bitterness that rested on your tongue. Heavy and salty and altogether awful. Your stomach involuntarily wretched at the taste. You tried to use what little saliva you could muster in the hope that you could wash it away, but that too was in vain. The taste just lingered without any hope of it going away. “Here” The injection of the rich male voice into your world briefly snapped you of your stupor. Out of everything, whether it be the metal or the pipes or the lumpy mattress that was not yours, the most out of place was that voice. You lived alone. When you had returned home last night, at least the small bit that you could remember, you had sworn you had been alone. The two at the bar, who had turned a relaxing cocktail for one into a pub crawl, were nowhere to be seen.  You had been wandering the streets of the court alone. Slipping and stumbling the entire way, but at last check, you had been on your own. So where had the man beside you come from?

You blinked up at him, ignoring the glass of water he was offering you. Your hazy mind was too preoccupied with trying to place him. You knew him, no, you’d seen him before. Recently. Had he come into your place of work? No. Perhaps it had been in a shop or on the street? Narrowing your eyes at him, you thought it might be, but it still didn’t explain why he was here. Looking past him, it didn’t explain why you were clearly not at home. The patchwork metal walls and dim lights were a far cry from the plaster embellishments and glass lamps of the court. Though, they seemed to match, if not enhance the scarred facade of the man beside you. “My apologies for the rough awakening.” He shifted, the chains of his attire moving with him. The clanking sound that filled the room as he set the glass of water to one side grated on you. It pierced through the air, causing the throbbing in your head to get worse. “That stuff in your system packs quite the punch.” What? You turned away from him trying to make sense of that statement. What stuff? You couldn’t make heads nor tails of what he meant by the word stuff. “I told them to take it easy on you, especially since they were already plying you with alcohol, but it seems they didn’t heed my warning. You’ve been out for close to an entire day.” Your entire body involuntarily lurched at that news. What? An entire day? How could that be? You’d gone home hadn’t you? His vague references didn’t mean anything, because they hadn’t happened. That was the only logical explanation you could muster. “I was actually getting slightly worried. The head nurse was under the impression something else might be amiss. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to know you’re okay. Though, I suppose she’ll still recommend some restorative treatments.” He made a face, one that echoed both dread and disgust. “I’ll do my best to spare you, but you may have to humor her some. Just for the sake of your relationship with her. I’d hate for you to get on her bad side at the start. It doesn’t make for a comfortable living arrangement if we don’t get along.” You blinked. The casualness of that statement seemed out of sorts given your present situation. How could he speak of relationships or living arrangements when you had no clue as to where you were and who he was? This wasn’t your home. You didn’t live here. Unless- 

Your eyes darted around the room again. A foreign place. A bed, a place to refresh yourself, a strange arrangement with an even stranger man. The effects of the stuff you had been given cleared just long enough to allow you to realize the gravity of your situation. 

The reaction that followed your epiphany was almost an involuntary one. Your entire body disregarded your drug induced hangover long enough to make the sorry attempt at fleeing. You tried to leave the bed, but the man who later introduced himself as Wriothesley was quick to stop you. His thick heavy arms had come around you before you had even fully sat up, effectively keeping you right where he wanted you. There was a struggle. Despite your queasiness and your pounding headache, you fought him. You twisted and turned in his grasp, desperate to get out of it, desperate to get away. He only tightened his hold on you, cooing reassuring words at you like one would to calm a frightened animal. The notion that everything would be alright. That you just needed time to adjust to your new surroundings. That he would take care of you from now on caused you to retch. How could he say such a thing, when you’d had no choice in the matter? Your life up until this point had been average, bordering on boring, but otherwise fine. Who was he to say that it needed changing?

At some point, after what felt like hours, he let you go. Wriothesley put some much needed space between you, allowing you to absorb the facts he chose to tell you about your situation without the burden of him being wrapped around you. His weight, coupled with the explanation that he had oh so nicely prepared for you would have been a cumbersome thing.  It was as you had fear. You had been abducted, but by whom was far worse than you ever could have imagined. It would have been enough if he had been some lord or even a high ranking member of one of the crime families. You would have a level of recourse then. If you managed to get free, you could charge him. You could have him sent away. In the end, there would be justice. With Wriothesley, that wasn’t possible. Though he carried the title of Duke, he was for all intents and purposes King of your new home. Immune from both the laws of the court and the justice you found yourself beginning to crave. It was a cruel twist on what was proving to be a brutish situation. You could only sit there in silence after he finished, smoldering as your fate washed over you. 

“You’re taking this quite well.” You blinked, trying to quell the rage that had been building since you had first woken up. The fact that he sounded legitimately surprised did nothing to help your mood or the growing urge to claw his face to shreds. How did he expect you to take it? Did he think you would make a scene? Had he gotten out of bed thinking he would hear screaming and wailing coming from the general vicinity of your door?  You rolled your eyes in response to his praise, choosing to turn them away from him. The wall next to you seemed infinitely more interesting than the man who was blocking your only exit. “Come on.” He shifted ever so slightly, the chains on his outfit moving with him, rattling as they settled back into place. “I had to.” He had to. You let out a silent huff at the lame excuse. He was the Duke of Meropide. The only thing he had to do was maintain order in the fortress. Last you checked, having someone spike your drink with a heavy sedative and stripping you of everything you owned was not a part of his duties. Yet here you were, in a strange bed, locked in a strange room, with only a cotton shift to your name. You could only guess that the slim comfort of the bed and modesty of the shift ought to be viewed as a gift, considering he could have left you nothing at all. That fact did little to assuage the fire that was currently shooting through your veins. The sheer audacity of the entire situation was enough to make you want to claw his eyes out. The actual act though would involve you having to acknowledge his existence. An action you weren’t keen on following through with.

He moved again, this time the hard rubber soles of his boots scraped against the metal floor. They stopped after a few seconds, only to be followed by a creak of metal that came from the general direction of the footboard. From the corner of your eye, you could see Wriothesley leaning against it. He obviously wanted a closer look at his hard won prize or maybe he just wanted to test the proverbial waters. You weren’t entirely sure and you weren’t in the mood to find out. Instead you held your focus on the wall, beginning to mentally count the bolts as a means of drowning him out. 1..2.. The bed groaned as he shifted his weight again. 13..14..There was another rattle of chains followed by a soft thunk against the floor. That had to be his jacket. God he wasn’t getting undressed was he? Surely Wriothesley wasn’t callous enough to abduct you and force himself on you within the same day, was he? The memory of him holding you down came back. A cold shiver shot down your spine at the very idea of it, of him using his weight to do more than just restrain you. 27..28.. The bed groaned for a third time, followed by more footsteps. These drawing ever louder, ever closer. Your heart began to slam against your ribcage as he stalked you, closing the short distance between you. The cold that had made it’s way down your spine began to ebb through you with every step he took. The louder they got, the sharper the chill that raced over your skin. You swallowed hard, trying to calm the shivers that were flowing across you like waves. You could hear him now, goosebumps raising all over your skin when the jingling of his handcuffs was so near to your ear. 41.. The footsteps stopped. Above you, he hummed, the rough flesh of his hand slowly wrapping itself around your chin. On instinct, you broke contact with the wall, trying to get away from him, but his nails scraping against your chin stopped you. You whimpered as his jagged nails bit into your flesh forcing your attention firmly back to him. It took almost no strength on his part to force your head in the direction he wanted, yet he still used slightly more than was necessary, just to get his point across. His fortress, his captive, his everything. You held no power here. Not now, not ever.

“For future use and reference.” You swallowed again as you were forced to stare up into those piercing eyes of his. “I don’t care for being ignored. Especially when I’m addressing someone.” Wriothesley tilted his head, a soft smile permeating his lips as he brushed his thumb over your chin. “But I’ll make an exception here.” His tone, which had been annoyingly cocky up until this point, faded into something slightly gentler. Something you could almost mistake for understanding, possibly even empathy for your current situation. A deceptive tactic on his part. Something to play into the fear that was still racing through your entire body and ease you into forgetting that your entire reason for being here was standing before you. Had you just only woken up or maybe if you had still been under the influence of the sedative, it might have worked. You might have bought it. But your benevolent captor had waited a hair too long. He had given you enough time to get your wits about you and because of that, you could catch him in the lie before it was too late. “You have every right to be angry, especially today. I can’t take that away from you.” His hot breath fanned across your face, causing you to momentarily flinch. The sensation was in direct contrast to his eyes, which matched the chill that was coming up through his fingers. The cold that radiated from his skin hurt to the point that it burned. You squirmed in his grasp, trying to get away from those unrelenting fingers of his, but it was no use. He had a firm, to the point of punishing grip on you. One he had no intention of loosening any time soon.  “I’ll be generous and give you today.” He paused, thinking it through. “Actually, I’ll give you until after my morning meeting. I can’t accuse you of breaking my rules if you aren’t aware of them and unfortunately, I can’t explain them or my expectations to you right now. So consider this a pass, free of charge.” You wanted to spit on his definition of generosity. He would get the rest of your days to ruin what little life he allowed you to have, yet you were expected to process everything that had happened and would happen to you in an hour? The inequity of it was ridiculous. “Oh don’t look at me like that.” He offered you a cocky smile, the confident tone returning. “If you’re good, I’ll bring you something nice to eat later.” You had to wonder what he meant by good. Aside from the bed, the only other items in the room were a sink, a toilet, and what looked to be a crude form of a shower. Short of soaking your bedding or possibly the mattress, you weren’t entirely sure what kind of trouble you could cause. He had purposefully limited your options to doing more harm to yourself than him. If he was as clever as he had shown himself to be, Wriothesley wouldn’t give you much chance to hurt him directly. 

With time things might change. He seemed like he had the ability to soften. Much of the sarcastic act you were seeing was exactly that, an act. If you played your cards right, might he give you an opening to hurt him, but it wasn’t like it would be worth it. The investment for the opportunity would take months and that’s if he ever opened himself up for the shot. If he did, and you were able to take it, the wound wouldn’t be a deep one. It would be superficial at best. A minor inconvenience for him. The hell he could bring after it was enough to end those thoughts before they went any further. The punishment that would follow for the impertinence of trying would be far worse than anything you could even attempt to do. For now, it was easier to acquiesce to some of his demands, at least until you could see how much rein his rules and expectations would give you. “I wish I could stay.” He let out a whimsical sigh. “How nice it would be for us to get better acquainted over the course of the morning, but-” He sighed heavily. “Duty calls.” He pressed your face a little harder, adjusting his grip so he could bunch your cheeks. The discomfort, along with the gentle rocking of his hand pulled what you knew would be many squeals out of you. He only laughed, bending down slightly so he could coo at you. “You’re so ungodly precious.” Wriothesley sighed again, lovingly regarding you for a moment. The notes of affection and pride that were evident on his face made you want to slap them right off of it. “Aw look at that glare. Still angry huh?” A very undignified puff of air through your nose was your only response. One that was matched by a shit-eating grin from him. “You’re cute when you’re angry. Though, you’ll have time to sort through it while I’m gone.” He paused for a beat. “Why don’t you start us off on the right foot and give me one of your charming smiles before I go. I know you’re angry, but it’ll help me get through the monotony of the next few hours.” He let out another chuckle, one of his fingers loosening slightly so he could run it across the base of your cheek. “Now that you’re with me, I may need it all the time.” 

You could do nothing but stare at him as you felt your blood pressure spike even higher. Was he serious? Did he really expect you to smile at him after all he had put you through? It was hard to believe. Clever he may be, but in touch with reality, he certainly was not. Thanks to his actions, you doubted if you would ever smile again. “Come on sweetheart.” He tightened his grip on your chin again, giving it a little shake. You flinched, but that was all. The last thing you wanted was to give him the satisfaction of pulling another sound out of you.  “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” Something dangerous flashed in his eyes, his once confident tone dropping an octave as you refused to follow another one of his orders. For a brief moment, you saw the man who had actually had you kidnapped. His amiability was little more than a tool. It was conditional on whether he got what he wanted. If it failed, that tool would be swapped in for something altogether different. That would happen with every infraction. When one tool failed him, he would simply try another. He would keep doing so until he found what worked best. Whether that was pain or pleasantries, you could tell it didn’t really matter to him. Just so long as he got his way.  “It’s just a smile.” His tone had captured the chill that you had become numb too. You nearly shivered from it, but you were able to stop yourself in time. His request was a simple one. An easy one. It required a minimal effort on your part, but it would ultimately be a gain for him. Right now, all he wanted was a smile. A small, yet significant sign that you were willing to obey him. That his deception tactics and attempts to get you to trust him had worked. If you followed through on it, then that gave him license to ask for more. The more you gave him, the less you could refuse later on. Your willing obedience would bring an expectation of behavior with it. One he would never let you forget. 

Smile, speak, sit, stand. They were all commands that you imagined he would eventually expect you to learn and perform at his whim and pleasure. He had already made it abundantly clear that you had very little choice in the matter. Yet you refused the command all the same. If he could test the waters, so could you. Your eyes just fixed on his, glaring up at him in utter defiance of his order, daring him to try and frighten you further. “Hm.” He tapped a finger against your jaw, causing you to blink. “Seems like I’ve got some work to do with you. A shame really.” He tilted his head in the other direction, heavily exhaling through his nose. “But maybe some time alone will change that.” Wriothesley broke eye contact first, looking around the room for a moment before those eyes of his found yours again. “I did say you could be upset at me, so by all means, be upset.” He gave your face one final squeeze before his hand fell away and you were finally able to put some much needed distance between you and him. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by him. His displeasure as you shuffled away from him was evident. “When I return though -” He planted a hand on his hip. “I expect that to be the end of it.” He paused looking away for a second. “Or at the very least.” He looked at you again. “We have a polite conversation about the future.” You wanted to ask what future? Did he expect you to politely discuss the future he had stolen from you? The one where you were happy and oblivious to the monster that lurked just below the waves. The same one who had seen fit to breach the safety of the shore, just so he could pull you under. 

Or perhaps he meant the other future. The one where you were forever sealed beneath the unforgiving sea. Bound to a man you found neither desirable nor worthy. Forced to smile and obey and be little more than a pet until death saw fit to take either him or you. A horrific, abysmal future that not even the gods themselves would save you from. How could you expect them too, when he had taken you beyond where any of them could ever hope to hear? That was the hard reality of life within the walls of the Fortress of Meropide. A place to abandon the lost, the forgotten, and the unwanted. It was the dumping ground of the world above. A den so rife with vice and sin that not even the gods themselves could ever hope to sort it out. According to many it had improved since the new administrator had taken over. He had ended the corruption and the chaos that had plagued what many had termed the tin hell. Yet miraculously, even with Wriothesley’s efforts it was still a place where the gods found it all too easy to turn a deaf ear to the screams and the cries of the repetent as they echoed up from beneath the waves. Here there were no gods. No heros. No saints. Here there was only hell. Only the sinners. Only Wriothesley to save you from it all. In the span of a night, under the witness of heavens above, he had become your god. 

All you could do was stare back and question how benevolent your new god would actually be.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bela + Morning/Aftercare

Not requested, just felt like giving myself a prompt. This was originally just Bela + Morning but my brain kinda shifted it, so oops, guess this technically isn't a one word prompt fill anymore. Features a gender-neutral reader, Bela's implied to be your wife (I don't think I used the word, but y'all have rings), and there's the heavy implication that the two of you fucked the night before (maybe a bit roughly, at that, but she is a vampire lady, so...).

Under read-more for length, at 1200 words.

-----

Always being the first to wake had its perks, at times, even if it often meant overcoming pangs of loneliness. Most mornings have Bela going for a short walk, then perhaps taking care of a few things for her slumbering siblings and mother. Other times she simply used the opportunity to relax in peace. Today was one of the latter days, and for good reason, her body still pressed tightly against you, the soft blanket your only protection from the cool morning air.

Last night had been… eventful, for the two of you. Undoubtedly you would eventually awaken to find yourself sore, perhaps with a few light bruises, but with the bite on your shoulder freshly bandaged. Bela never neglected aftercare. Most of it had occurred before you fell asleep, of course, some tasks simply bear repeating now.

Carefully, slowly, Bela untangles herself from the sheets, leaving a gentle kiss on your brow when you instinctively reach out for her. All the air in her lungs becomes pointless at the sight of your sleeping smile. Even in the depths of your dreams, her touch was something to savor, a source of great comfort. Bearing a grin of her own, she forces herself to turn towards the ensuite. She’d get to admire you plenty while taking care of your scratches.

Glancing down at her nails, she can’t help but pause, inspecting the dried blood under the edge. Perhaps her grip on your back had been tighter than she remembered. Making a mental note to grab some soothing salve from the cupboard, she quickly cleans up by the sink. It’s not thorough, mostly just taming her hair and washing off the aforementioned dried blood, but she fully intended to save her bath for when you can join her.

By the time she returns to bed, you’ve started to stir. Briefly, your eyes open, squinting up at your beloved, and you offer her a meek murmur for a greeting. With the way you look at her, but don’t quite see her, Bela can only assume that you aren’t truly awake yet. Allowing herself a chuckle, she sets up her medkit next to your weary form. Ever so gently she sets about removing the temporary bandage from your shoulder. Instantly the scent of dried blood hits her, making her dizzy for a split second, and she looks at your bite marks with both pride and desire.

Part of her is eager to bite again, to further mark you as her own. But she quashes those instincts, suppresses them, knowing that there is no need to be so possessive. Not only are you loyal in your affections, the ring on your finger makes it clear to others that you are her partner. When she leans in close, it is not to reopen wounds. Instead, she allows herself a single, slow lick. Not much comes from it, the metallic taste less strong than she preferred, yet it still sends a shiver of pleasure down her spine.

“My sweet darling,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to your collarbone before beginning to dab a wet cloth against the bite. Each touch is gentle, soothing, only barely enough pressure to clean the dried blood. Bela begins humming one of her mother’s songs as she works. It’s a light melody, flowing and curling around itself, that fills the air with a pleasant buzz. “There we go, much better,” she speaks, applying an antibacterial cream, continuing her humming until the bandage is in place.

At last, you stir further, blinking up at her with growing awareness. Something warm blossoms in Bela’s chest when she sees how quickly you light up at the sight of her. Immediately your hands are reaching for her, wanting to cup her face or intertwine your fingers with hers. The first she allows, the latter she pulls back from, making a clear display of wiping her hands off on a spare cloth. No need to get medicine all over your hand. With the way you pout, she wants nothing more than to kiss you until you’re both desperate for air.

“Soon, draga mea, let me finish tending your wounds, understood?” Bela says, taking on a playfully stern tone. Although it takes a moment for you to process her words, having forgotten the ache of your body until now, your pout soon subsides. Then you cautiously shift, allowing her easier access to the pattern work of scratches across your back. “Very good.” This time her voice is more intimate, reminiscent of the night before, sending blood rushing to your cheeks. Once more she kisses your skin, this time where the back of your neck meets your shoulder.

“I love you,” you murmur, voice muffled by the pillow you cling to. Naturally, it’s the same pillow that Bela had been laying against half an hour ago. Your own was pushed off to the side, forgotten, teetering dangerously close to the mattress’ edge. The sight amuses Bela, and she has to stifle a chuckle, lest you think she’s laughing at your affection instead.

“And I love you. Now hold still, this may sting but for a moment, then the pain will fade,” she explains, a smile evident in the curl of her words. She waits for you to give a hum of acknowledgment before beginning to rub the salve into the skin of your back. True to her word, it has a slight burn, but it’s not enough to make you wince or whimper. Compared to the pain you gladly endured for her love-bites, this was hardly even a nuisance. If anything… the feeling of Bela’s touch, the gentle kneading of your flesh, is rather pleasant. Of course she notices, and leans down to murmur something teasing in Romanian.

Even if you don’t understand the specifics, you get the gist, and once again feel heat rushing to your face. This time Bela does not try to hide her laughter, the sound almost lilting. It’s bright. Warm. Entirely perfect, just as she is to you.

A few minutes pass, far too quickly for your liking, before you hear the sound of the medicinal jar closing with a satisfying click. For a moment, Bela makes no move. It’s not until you try to turn to look at her that she shifts, a hand on your shoulder keeping you down, the feeling of her breath fanning against your neck making you freeze. Pleased with your obedience, Bela releases you with a soft hum. Then she slips into bed next to you, in a familiar position, gesturing for you to lay on top of her.

“Come closer, draga mea, let me savor your warmth while the salve does its job. We can bathe once the medicine is absorbed,” Bela explains, and you start obeying before she even finishes speaking. As you curl against her, ensuring your back remains off of the bed, she quickly glances at the clock. Good, she muses, still plenty of time before breakfast. 

Yes, there are many perks to being such an early riser. The grandest of which is that she can enjoy this time with you, her duties fulfilled, her only work left to care and cherish her darling.

[dee-writes-smut]

PREVERNAL (Extra)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY it's been two years, you want sex with your mate, but it seems Azriel is hesitant. Good thing bestie LuLu is here to help ;)

CONTENT WARNINGS sex! (there will be a note before if you wish to skip), MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap, y'all), Lucien being a nosy horndog (?)

AUTHORS NOTE c'mon, you didn't think I was just going to leave you without a smut scene! What do you make me for, a monster?!

As the world awakens from its winter slumber, a symphony of sensations fills the prevernal air, weaving a tapestry of seduction that tantalizes the senses and stirs the soul. The earth, still moist from the thawing frost, exhales a heady fragrance of rebirth, a delicate mingling of damp soil and budding life that beckons with whispered promises of renewal. Each step upon the awakening land is a dance with temptation, as the soft, yielding earth caresses the feet with a sensuous touch that ignites a primal longing deep within.

Above, the sun emerges from its hibernation, casting its golden rays upon the landscape like a lover's embrace. Its warmth, once forgotten, now envelopes the skin in a tender caress, coaxing the slumbering earth to awaken from its wintry dreams. And awaken it does, with a flourish of color and life that ignites the senses with an intoxicating fervor. Delicate blossoms unfurl their petals in a symphony of hues, their fragrant perfumes mingling with the crispness of the air in a sensual ballet of scent.

Everywhere, the world pulses with the rhythm of desire, from the gentle rustle of awakening leaves to the melodious trill of amorous birdsong. Each breeze carries with it a whisper of passion, stirring dormant desires and kindling flames of longing that smolder just beneath the surface. In the prelude to spring, every sensation is heightened, every moment pregnant with possibility, as the allure of new beginnings hangs heavy in the air like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

In this season of rebirth, nature herself becomes the ultimate seductress, her beauty a bewitching spell that enraptures all who dare to surrender to her charms. And so, beneath the canopy of prevernal skies, amidst the vibrant tapestry of blossoms and verdant greenery, the world becomes a playground of desire, where every touch, every scent, every sight ignites the flames of passion and invites the soul to embrace the sensual delights of the season.

It had been a little over two years since I lost my wings to Lyris, since I found out Azriel is my mate, and the last two years have been good. Sure, there have been moments where I fell back into that dark space, but Azriel was always there, ready to pull me back into the light when I was done reflecting.

During that time, our lives have undergone significant changes. Azriel and I were gifted a townhouse by Feyre and Rhys, providing us with our own space to build a life together. Additionally, my friendship with Lucien had deepened. Though we had only met briefly before the incident with my wings, our connection had grown, and now he joined me every weekend for a night out in the Night Court.

Despite the progress in our lives, there remained an unspoken tension between Azriel and me. While he was attentive and affectionate, there was a notable absence of intimacy. Though he'd shower with me, share kisses, and embrace me, our relationship had not progressed beyond that point. I'd attempted to initiate intimacy, but each time Azriel seemed to retreat, offering excuses that left me feeling frustrated and unfulfilled.

As Lucien and I entered the bustling tavern, the familiar sights and sounds of Velaris washed over me, momentarily distracting me from my tangled thoughts. The scent of ale and roasted meat filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and chatter that filled every corner of the room.

I glanced around, searching for a quiet corner where we could sit and talk. The tavern was packed with patrons, each one lost in their own conversations and revelries.

Lucien followed my lead, his eyes scanning the room as he sought out the perfect spot. "How about over there?" he suggested, nodding towards a cozy corner booth bathed in soft candlelight.

I nodded in agreement, grateful for his intuition. Together, we made our way over to the booth and settled in, the comfortable silence between us speaking volumes.

"So," Lucien began, breaking the silence with a curious glint in his eye, "what's been on your mind lately, songbird?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to broach the subject. But then, with a deep breath, I decided to lay it all out on the table. "Azriel," I confessed, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Lucien's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze locking with mine in a silent exchange of understanding. He knew exactly what I was talking about, without me having to say another word.

"He's been… distant," I continued, my voice tinged with frustration. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Lucien. I've tried everything I can think of, but he always pulls away."

Lucien's expression softened, his hand reaching out to cover mine in a comforting gesture. "I'm sure it's not you," he reassured me, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Azriel's been through a lot, as have you. Maybe he just needs some more time."

I nodded, taking solace in his words. "I hope you're right," I replied, trying to keep the doubt from creeping into my voice. But deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that there was a distance between Azriel and me that I couldn't bridge no matter how hard I tried. Then, an idea sparked in my mind, and I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What if I tried… something different?" I suggested, a mischievous glint in my eye.

He raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Different how?" he asked, leaning in even closer to hear my suggestion. "Songbird, are you suggesting I help you to seduce your mate?” Lucien chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye to match the slight blush across his cheeks.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking for my wonderful Lord of Foxes” I smirked, listening to his joyous laugh dancing through the tavern like silk in the wind. It made me smile, to hear him distracted from his own mate related sorrows.

“Trying to butter me up, are we?” He grinned, shaking his head at my answering snicker. “What if you were to seduce him?" Lucien suggested, his tone playful yet suggestive. "Show him just how much you desire him, and maybe he won't be able to resist."

I considered the suggestion, a thrill of excitement coursing through me at the thought of finally crossing that line with Azriel. "How would I do that?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Lucien grinned, clearly enjoying our clandestine conversation. "You could start by wearing something… provocative," he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Show him what he's been missing out on."

I blushed at the suggestion, the idea of dressing up to seduce Azriel both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "That could work," I admitted, feeling a surge of determination building within me.

Lucien nodded in approval. "And what about… teasing him?" he suggested, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Give him little hints of what's to come, and let his imagination do the rest."

I swallowed hard at the suggestion, the thought of teasing Azriel sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. "That could definitely get his attention," I agreed, my mind already racing with possibilities, but as we continued to brainstorm, I couldn't shake the feeling of nervous excitement building within me. Maybe this was exactly what Azriel and I needed to finally take that next step, to bridge the gap that had been growing between us.

“But,” Lucien interjected, raising a finger and pointing it at me, “you could also try talking to him.” I raised a brow at this, and he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if a physical reminder of the weight of his sorrows, “I know that it’s not working with Elain, but you an-”

“Luce,” I say softly, interrupting him with a soothing hand on his warm arm, “I would never use that against you, not even in a stupid disagreement, c’mon.” I watch as his cheeks redden, his head falling, long, golden-red hair hiding his expression.

Tonight was going to be a late night.

It had been weeks, and this evening had been meticulously planned, every detail carefully orchestrated in my attempt to seduce Azriel. I had adorned myself in my most alluring attire, a dress that clung to every curve, and had spent hours perfecting my makeup and hair.

As Azriel stepped through the door of our townhouse, I greeted him with a coy smile, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation. Tonight was the night I would finally make my move, the night I would show him just how much I desired him.

"Hey, Az," I purred, sauntering over to him with what I hoped was a seductive sway in my hips. "Did you have a good day?"

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he took in my appearance. "It was fine," he replied, his voice low and husky. "What about you?"

I smiled, feeling a surge of confidence at his response. "Oh, you know," I said, my voice laced with playful flirtation. "Just counting down the minutes until you got home."

But as I began to put my plan into action, things quickly took an unexpected turn. My attempts at seduction came off as clumsy and awkward, each gesture more embarrassing than the last.

I tried to flirt, to tease him with suggestive remarks, but my words came out jumbled and incoherent. "You must be tired," I blurted out, cringing at my own lack of finesse. "Maybe I could help you relax?"

Azriel watched me with a bemused expression, clearly unsure of how to respond to my awkward advances. "Um, sure," he said, his tone cautious as he took a step back, clearly sensing my nervous energy.

I attempted to initiate physical contact, to seduce him with a touch, but my hands fumbled clumsily and fell short of their mark. I reached out to brush a lock of hair from his face, but ended up poking him in the eye instead.

"Ow!" Azriel exclaimed, blinking rapidly as he recoiled from my touch. "Are you okay?"

I winced, mortified by my own clumsiness. "I'm so sorry," I stammered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to…"

But it wasn't until I saw the disappointment in Azriel's eyes that the full weight of my humiliation hit me. I had wanted so desperately to seduce him, to show him just how much he meant to me, but instead, I had only succeeded in making a fool of myself.

Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and stinging, as I turned away from him, unable to bear the thought of him seeing me in such a vulnerable state. I had wanted tonight to be perfect, but instead, it had been a disaster of epic proportions.

"Hey," Azriel's voice was gentle, his hand reaching out to touch my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump forming in my throat. How could I explain to him the depths of my humiliation, the sheer magnitude of my disappointment? Azriel wasn't one to give up easily. With infinite patience, he wrapped me in his arms, holding me close as I sobbed against his chest.

After I took a few moments to collect myself while Azriel held me close, his warmth enveloping me, I was able to take a deep breath and steady my emotions before speaking up. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible against the fabric of his shirt. "I just wanted tonight to be special."

Azriel's arms tightened around me, his touch a comforting anchor amidst the storm of my emotions. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "We can try again another time."

I sniffled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me at his understanding. "But why?" I blurted out, the question tumbling from my lips before I could stop it. "Why won't you… why won't you make love to me?"

Azriel pulled back slightly, his expression unreadable as he looked down at me. "It's not that I don't want to," he spluttered, “believe me, honey, I’ve wanted nothing more these last couple years,” he encouraged with a low growl, his eyes darkening for a moment. “But,” Azriel continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "It's just… complicated."

My heart sank at his words, a knot of worry forming in the pit of my stomach. "Complicated how?" I pressed, my voice trembling with uncertainty.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. "I don't want you to feel… obligated," he admitted, his gaze filled with concern. "After everything you've been through, I don't want you to feel like you have to… do this with me."

I blinked in surprise at his confession, the weight of his words sinking in. "But I want to," I insisted, my voice firm with determination. "I want to be with you, Az. I want this."

Azriel's expression softened at my words, his eyes meeting mine in a silent exchange of understanding. "I know," he said, his voice gentle and reassuring. "But I don't want you to rush into anything because you feel like you have to."

Tears welled up in my eyes at his concern, the depth of his love washing over me like a wave. "I'm not rushing," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath. "I'm ready."

Azriel's gaze softened at my words, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "Okay."

The weight of Azriel's concern lingered in the air between us, casting a shadow over our tender moment. I bit my lip, gathering my courage before speaking again. "Az," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, "can we try tonight?"

His brows furrowed in concern, his gaze searching mine as if trying to gauge my sincerity. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone gentle yet cautious.

I nodded, a determined glint in my eyes. "Yes," I replied, my voice stronger this time. "I want this, Az. I want to be with you."

Azriel studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he weighed my words. Finally, he let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing as if he had come to a decision. "Okay," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and resolve. "But only if you're absolutely sure."

I nodded, a sense of gratitude swelling within me at his understanding. "I am," I assured him, my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach. "I trust you, Az. I always have."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes softening with warmth and affection. "I love you," he said, his voice a gentle caress that soothed the ache in my heart.

"I love you too," I whispered, feeling a sense of peace settle over me as I nestled into his embrace.

The air between us crackled with tension as we made our way to our bedroom, our footsteps echoing in the quiet of the townhouse. Despite our earlier conversation, a nervous energy hung heavy in the air, making each moment feel strained and uncertain.

I stole a glance at Azriel out of the corner of my eye, finding him watching me with a mixture of apprehension and longing. My heart skipped a beat at the sight, the weight of his gaze sending a shiver down my spine.

As we reached the door to our bedroom, I paused, my hand hovering uncertainly over the handle. "Are you sure about this?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Azriel nodded, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Yes," he replied, his voice steady despite the nerves that flickered in his eyes. "I want to be with you, more than anything, as long as you're ready."

I swallowed hard, feeling a surge of emotion welling up inside me, not immune to the irony of the question. With a shaky breath, I pushed open the door, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the room. We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving, as if unsure of what to do next. But then, with a shared glance, we moved as one, closing the distance between us with hesitant steps.

I reached out to touch him, my fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek. "I love you," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart.

Azriel's eyes softened at my words, his hand coming up to cradle my face in a gentle caress. "I love you too," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper that sent a shiver down my spine.

And then, with a shared smile, we began to undress, each movement slow and deliberate as we shed the layers that separated us. It was awkward at first, our hands fumbling and uncertain as we navigated the unfamiliar terrain of each other's bodies.

But as we moved together, our laughter mingling with the soft sounds of the night, something shifted between us. The tension that had once hung heavy in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of ease and familiarity that washed over us like a warm embrace.

(MDNI SMUT AFTER THE CUT)

Azriel's touch is a symphony of sensations, each brush of his fingertips sending sparks of desire dancing along my skin. He starts with feather-light caresses, tracing invisible patterns across the curve of my jaw, down the length of my neck, and along the swell of my collarbones. Each touch is a promise of things to come, a tantalizing tease that leaves me yearning for more.

His lips follow the path his fingers have traced, pressing soft, lingering kisses against my skin. He explores every inch of me with a reverence that takes my breath away, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I gasp as his lips find the hollow of my throat, his tongue tracing delicate circles against my pulse point.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my skin, his voice low and husky with desire. I shiver at his words, a rush of heat pooling between my thighs.

As he continues to explore, his hands roam freely over my body, mapping every curve and contour with a hunger that mirrors my own. He cups the weight of my breasts in his palms, his thumbs brushing lightly over my hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through me.

"Azriel," I whisper, my voice trembling with longing as I arch into his touch, a low moan escaping my lips as he takes one swollen nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling with a fervor that leaves me dizzy with desire. His other hand travels lower, skimming across the sensitive skin of my abdomen before dipping between my thighs.

I gasp as his fingers find the heat between my legs, teasing me with maddening slowness. He circles my clit with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make me squirm.

"You drive me wild," he confesses, his breath hot against my skin as he slides a single finger inside me, testing my readiness. I'm already slick with desire, my body eager for more of him. I rock my hips against his hand, wordlessly urging him to continue. With a low growl of approval, Azriel adds a second finger, stretching me in the most exquisite way possible.

I moan his name, my fingers tangling in his dark locks as I pull him closer, desperate for more of his touch. "I want you," I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“All good things come to those who wait,” he smirks against my breast, his tongue swiping at my hardened nipple.

“Please,” I whine, my hips meeting his gentle thrusts, the soft squelching noises between my thighs steadily growing louder and more frequent. He complies eagerly, increasing the pace and pressure of his ministrations until I'm teetering on the edge of oblivion, every nerve in my body singing with pleasure.

And just when I think I can't take any more, he withdraws his fingers, leaving me gasping and aching for release. With a wicked smile, he leans up to capture my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with mine in a dance as old as time.

I lose myself in the kiss, the world narrowing down to the feel of his lips against mine, the taste of him on my tongue. We part with fierce huffs of breaths as he reaches down to ready himself, using the slick he collected between my thighs to lather his thick length. I whimper at the sight of it, his long, intimidating length, prettily flushed and already dripping precum.

Azriel shushes me softly as he lines himself up, slowly sliding himself against my clit for a moment before notching at my entrance. With a deep breath, he slowly starts to slide in.

I let out a long gasp, my hands flying to his shoulders as he hovers above me, his face pinched so beautifully in both pleasure and concentration.

“Gods,” he whimpers as his thighs meet mine, my heart flipping at the sound and before soon Azriel and I meld together in a dance of desire, our bodies moving in perfect synchronization. The heat between us ignites, consuming us in a blaze of passion as we lose ourselves in the ecstasy of our union.

Azriel's movements are primal and unrestrained, each thrust driving me closer to the edge of oblivion. I cling to him, my nails digging into his skin as I meet him thrust for thrust, our bodies colliding with a force that borders on violence.

Slick with sweat, our bodies slide against each other, creating a symphony of sounds that fills the room. The scent of our arousal hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heady aroma of candles burning low.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice a rough whisper against my ear. "Mine to claim."

I moan in response, the sound a guttural cry of need as pleasure courses through my veins. "Yes," I gasp, my voice barely more than a desperate plea.

The intensity of our connection is overwhelming, a tidal wave of desire crashing over us with each passing moment. I lose myself in the sensation, the world narrowing down to the feel of Azriel's skin against mine, the sound of his ragged breaths mingling with my own.

He leans down to capture my lips in a savage kiss, his tongue plundering my mouth with a hunger that borders on feral. I bite back, matching his intensity with a ferocity of my own as we devour each other with a raw, primal need.

Every touch, every kiss, every thrust is a testament to our shared desire, a silent declaration of the love that binds us together. We are lost in each other, consumed by the fire that burns between us, unable to tell where one ends and the other begins.

As the pleasure mounts, I feel myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my entire being consumed by the overwhelming tide of sensation. Azriel senses my impending release and adjusts his rhythm, driving me over the edge with a final, desperate thrust.

I scream his name as ecstasy washes over me in a blinding burst of light, my body convulsing with pleasure as I tumble into the abyss of sensation. "Azriel!" I cry out, my voice a plea for more as I surrender to the depths of bliss.

He growls in response, panting in my ear, “let me put a baby in you, my mate. Let me-” he lets out a grunt as his movements become more erratic, “let me show the world how good i give it to you, to this pretty little pussy.”

I whimper at the words, my sex addled mind going blank for a moment as he suspends my pleasure, “yes, please, Az, put a baby in me,” I moan loudly, gently scratching the delicate membrane of his right wing.

Azriel lets out a roar of pleasure as he lets himself go, shoving in as far as he can and staying there as he fills me with his warm seed. “I love you,” he pants softly in my ear, his entire body laying sticky and limp on top of mine.

“I love you too,” I breathe, my hands moving to rake through his soft curls.

As the waves of pleasure slowly subside, Azriel turns us to hold me close, his touch gentle yet possessive. There's an unspoken understanding between us, a connection that goes deeper, a thread that sparkles in pure gold with contentment and satisfaction. His arms around me feel like home, like a sanctuary where I can be truly myself.

His whispered words of love and reassurance wash over me like a soothing balm, each syllable a tender caress against my skin. He speaks of our bond, of the love that binds us together, and I listen, my heart swelling with gratitude for the man who has become my everything.

I nestle against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek. It's a comforting rhythm, a reminder that I am safe in his embrace, cocooned in the warmth of our shared intimacy.

"Stay," he murmurs softly, his breath warm against my skin. "I know you have to get cleaned up… but, just a little longer."

I smile, my heart swelling with affection for this man who has become so much more than just a lover. "Of course," I reply, my voice a gentle murmur in the darkness.

Azriel presses a tender kiss to my forehead, his touch a gentle caress along the curve of my spine. With each stroke of his fingers, I feel the tension leaving my body, replaced by a sense of calm and contentment.

We lie together in silence, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. There's no need for words; our connection speaks volumes in the quiet of the room. I trace lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips, a comforting reminder of the love that binds us together.

And as sleep finally claims us both, I drift off with the comforting knowledge that in Azriel's arms, I have found a kind of love that transcends mere physical desire, a love that will sustain us through whatever challenges lie ahead.

[lifeofpriya]

You Are the One - Quinn Hughes imagine

[gif credit goes to @kirillmarchenko]

song of the fic: Tum Hi Ho by Arijit Singh

translated lyrics are here

Letting out a quiet yawn, Quinn found himself to slowly awaken from his slumber. As he stretched his arms in an effort to seem more lively, he couldn't help but slightly turn his head to the side and softly smiled at the sight in front of him.

You were still asleep, your hair was a bit tousled from the turning and twisting you unconsciously do in your sleep. The soft snores escaping from your lips were like music to Quinn's ears.

How was he so goddamn lucky to be in your presence? He thought to himself as he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.

It felt like it was just yesterday when he met you as a result of a blind date set up by Elias...

\\\

"For the last time, Petey, no, I will not go on a date with one of your teammates!" You let out a slightly exaggerated groan when you saw Elias about to open his mouth.

There was a glimmer of mischief in the Swede's eyes as he stared at you with a sly smirk etched on his lips.

"Too late, because I already set it up, Y/N," Elias let out a giggle as he slid a piece of paper towards you, on it was the address of the really fancy coffee shop in downtown Vancouver and a date written on it, which caused you to furrow your eyebrows together. "I think you two will get along really well; you're perfect for each other!"

Rolling your eyes at how dramatic Elias was being, you let out a sigh of defeat as you stared at him. "Fine, but I'm only doing this for you, Petey."

"Yay!" The Swede excitedly clapped his hands together; there was a beaming smile on his face as he reveled in succeeding his matchmaking duty. "I'll go let your mystery date know that you've accepted the date." He hurriedly spoke and gathered his stuff after realizing that afternoon skate was going to start soon.

"You owe me, Pettersson!" You shouted at Elias, who simply just winked at you in a playful manner before leaving the coffee shop. "Why am I even friends with him..."

\\\

"If this was all a set up, I am going to pummel him like there's no tomorrow..." You muttered under your breath; your patience was starting to wear down as you continued to wait on your mystery date. You were in the middle of contemplating whether you should stay or leave, your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the chimes above the door slightly ring as the door opened.

When you looked up, you saw a man look around the coffee shop with a look of confusion written in his crystal blue eyes. Not going to lie to yourself, you secretly hoped the confused man was your mystery date.

"Quinn?" The confused man's head perked up at the mention of his name. Jackpot. "Over here!" A nervous smile made its way onto your lips as you flagged him down.

There was a matching nervous smile on Quinn's lips as he carefully approached the table where you were waiting for him. "Y/N?"

You couldn't help but softly chuckle and nod your head as you introduced yourself, "yes, and you must be Quinn," you outstretched a hand for him to shake; you couldn't help but be mesmerized by him.

Quinn let out a sigh of relief, he shook your hand -- a grin started to slowly make its way on his lips as he sat down on the chair opposite from you.

"Apologies for being so late, the traffic on the way over was a killer," Quinn sheepishly giggled; his hand instinctively reached to the back of his neck to scratch it. "Oh, no! I left the flowers I got for you in my car, I'll be right back!"

You silently observed as Quinn realized the one item he had left in his car and briefly dash out of the coffee shop to retrieve it.

A soft grin made its way onto your lips, Elias did a pretty damn good job with the matchmaking, but you weren't going to admit it just yet...

\\\

Quinn chuckled at the memory of him dashing out of the coffee shop during your first date; he recounted how his cheeks were brightly tinted when he made his way back inside as he clutched the bouquet of your favorite flowers nervously in his hands and the tears of joy in your eyes while you couldn't help but giggle at how adorable and cute he was.

His mind then wandered off to a different memory, one that was his favorite, but also kind of unusual as it involved an argument between you and him.

It wasn't just any ordinary argument...It was an argument that was crucial in the relationship.

\\\

"I'm done! What's the point of being in a relationship with you if you don't even put any effort into it." You angrily muttered under your breath and sneered at your boyfriend. Your hand rested on the doorknob while staring at Quinn.

"Where are you going? I'm not done with our conversation yet!" Quinn's face was turning into various shades of red as he shouted.

"Anywhere but here," you spoke with a deadpanned voice. "Goodbye, Quinn..."

\\\

Days passed since the big blow up, and the fact that Quinn was absolutely devastated was an understatement. The moment you walked out, he felt his heart shatter into a million pieces.

That was the first time he felt pain. What was the point of life if you weren't there with him, he thought. He couldn't live without you. He didn't want to be without you for even a single moment.

That's why he found himself standing outside your house, he was completely drenched as the heavy rain continued to downpour.

"Go away, Hughes!" You briefly opened the door to yell at him. "I don't want to see or talk to you right now!"

"No!" It was like that was his favorite word in the dictionary; he wasn't willing to budge until everything between him and you was all settled. "We need to talk, Y/N!"

You let out an exasperated sigh while gazing at the American with a wary look in your eyes. "What's there to talk about, Quinn?"

The drops of rain felt like bullets as they continued to pelt Quinn. You couldn't help but feel your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach as you watched him continue to stand outside your house in the pouring rain.

Deciding enough was enough, you quickly slipped on your shoes and found yourself standing near the driveway -- maintaining distance between you and your boyfriend.

"I'm sorry!"

Your eyes widened at Quinn's admittance. Furrowing your eyebrows out of confusion, you stared at Quinn; wanting more answers.

"If I learned anything from the past few days, it's that I can't live without you in my life, Y/N..." Tears started to fill both your eyes and Quinn's eyes as he started to pour all his heart to you. "What's the point of me existing if you're not there anyone?"

He began to sob; his salty tears were mixing with the fresh raindrops dripping down his cheeks.

As much as you wanted to stand your ground, you soon found yourself running into Quinn's arms; tears also starting to pool in your eyes.

"I'm so sorry, babe," he sobbed on your shoulder as he rested his head on your shoulder. "I must've been the worst boyfriend in the world..."

You tentatively wrapped your arms around Quinn's neck, your hands instinctively started to rub his back in a soothing manner.

"I understand if you don't want to see me," he continued to speak, "but you deserve to know that i love you so goddamn much, Y/N."

Did he just...?

Your eyes widened at what Quinn just uttered into the world, "you...You love me?"

Quinn nodded his head and quietly sniffled, "with my entire heart and more, babe."

You could feel a teary smile make its way onto your face, "I love you so goddamn much too, Quinn Hughes," letting out a breathy chuckle, you pulled in Quinn for a kiss. "I'm sorry too, babe..."

\\\

"Quit staring at me, Quinn," you let out a huff and were about to turn away from him before he snaked your arms around your middle.

"You look so beautiful today," there was a soft smile creeping up on Quinn's face as he stared at you with a look of lovestruck in his eyes.

"Geez, since when was I married to a cheeseball?"

"Way to ruin the moment, babe..."

\\\

tag list: @lam-ila, @2manytabsopen, @jackhues

[fayes-fics]

Comfort [Benophie Remix]

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett/Baek

Summary: Benedict comforts Sophie when her courses arrive…

Warnings: mentions of menstruation, non graphic references to period blood. Otherwise, just the fluffiest of fluff.

Word Count: 2k

Authors Note: This is a Benophie remix of my fic Comfort for @benophieweek (Day 10/10, word prompt: Cottage). There are a few edits to the story to make it more Sophie-coded. Enjoy! <3

Sophie stirs from her slumber to a dreaded dampness she knows far too well. 

Oh dear heavens, no! 

Overnight, her courses have arrived without warning. Or perhaps, with hindsight, there were some signs, but she had assigned blame for the symptoms elsewhere. She had put her tiredness down to the exhaustive whirlwind of overseeing the renovations to the dining room and the dull lower back pain due to lugging around heavy furniture, unable not to pitch in and assist the people Benedict had hired to do the work, much to his chagrin when he found out.

For a few moments, she stares frettingly at the ceiling, unsure what to do. She can tell that her nightgown and, likely, the bedsheets will carry evidence of this unwanted early arrival. Trust her body to be at least a day early when least needed.

Next to her, her new husband of just fourteen days, Benedict Bridgerton, is sleeping soundly. Sophie rolls her head to look briefly at his handsome face in repose on the adjacent pillow, then bites her lip in anxiety.

Oh god, he cannot see this!! He simply cannot! What am I to do?!?

____

Sophie had learned to feel shame around her courses at an early age from her awful stepmother. Indeed, she had even overheard Araminta lecturing her daughters never to mention or address the “monthly visitor” to their future husbands—it was a situation for them and their lady's maids to deal with silently. On the nights “visited”, she instructed them to sleep elsewhere rather than with their husband so he would not have to deal with “such unpleasantness”. It may have been logical advice for a regular wife of the Ton, but it turns out Benedict is no ordinary man, decidedly non-traditional.

Upon rearrival at My Cottage, as Mrs Bridgerton no less, Sophie had politely inquired which of the spare rooms would now be her bedchamber. At first, Benedict laughed, then frowned when he realised she was serious. It turned out he had not made plans for, or indeed, set up a room for her separate from his.

“We are husband and wife now. We shall sleep together,” he explained, drawing her into his arms and planting a tender kiss on her forehead.

“But… every night?” she stammered, still grappling with what exactly was expected of her as a wife.

“Yes, my darling,” he confirmed, still sounding vaguely bemused.

____

Since that day, they have shared a bed every night, which has been delightful for so many reasons. Indeed, Sophie has never slept better in her life than in the two weeks since her wedding, falling asleep securely in Benedict’s arms and awakening to his handsome, smiling face…

…Well, that is until now.

Now, she has no earthly idea what to do. 

She surmises it must still be early, dawn breaking, a grey, feeble light peeking around the top of the heavy velvet drape curtains over the windows. Barely enough to see shapes and rough outlines as her eyes adjust. Not wanting to awaken Benedict by igniting a candle, she gingerly pushes back the bedspread and slides out as quietly as possible. In the mirror across the room, Sophie catches sight of a scarlet bloom, visible even in this low light, so stark against her white cotton nightgown. Turning back around, her fears are fully realised when she sees a mirror imprint left upon the sheet where she slept.

Horrified, she flies into a flurry of movements, wanting to hide both her nightgown and the sheets she has sullied, albeit unintentionally. Slipping as silently as she is able to the linen supplies cupboard and gathering some terrycloths designed for bathing. One, she wraps around herself; another two, she decides to place upon the bed, hoping it will conceal the stain until her husband leaves the bedroom.  

She cannot wait to bathe but knows that running a bath would surely awaken Benedict, the noise of water being poured into the echoey copper, even if across the hallway, being bound to rouse him.

Once back next to her side of the bed, Sophie pushes the covers towards the middle and starts to pull at the edge of the undersheet, hoping to slide a cloth under the stain and one atop to stop the evidence from spreading, her former life as a maid kicking in instinctively in her actions. 

She glances furtively at her husband as she works, who unfortunately is turned onto his side facing towards her, as he often is when she awakens. 

In all heavens, could you not turn the other way just for once, my love? She implores silently in her mind.

She moves as stealthily as possible, so very keen to be unnoticed. The most challenging part is trying to wedge a cloth underneath, the sheet pulled taut by her husband’s weight pinning down the other side. Just as she is fighting the fabric, both hands shoved far under the sullied sheet, she hears a sudden sharp intake of breath, and dread fills her stomach. 

His eyes fly open, and he squints as he takes in the sight before him. Then, a frown passes over his features.

“What on earth are you doing, my love?” Benedict’s voice is deep and rough with sleep.

Sophie whips her hands out from under the sheet, belatedly realising she is also muttering a repeated “no no, no no” under her breath as she attempts to reach for the blanket and hide what has happened, but it is just out of reach, kneeling as she is beside the bed.

“Darling,” he sits up slightly, rubbing his eyes, obviously thrown off by her agitated state. “Please, whatever is the matter??” his tone rising in volume and concern.

Her eyeline falls reflexively upon what she is trying to conceal on the bedsheets, and his tracks hers. Unable to handle her embarrassment, she buries her head in her hands and slumps backwards onto her heels, certain this will be repulsive to him.

“I am so sorry, husband; I was not expecting this to happen today; please forgive me,” Sophie mutters defeatedly behind her palms, ashamed.

She is expecting a noise of derision or disgust. What she does not expect is a chuckle and then a large, warm hand brushing her shoulder.

“Please get up off the floor…” his ask is caring, no rebuke to be heard.

Her head slowly tilts up, and to her shock, he is leaning over onto her side of the bed, not far above the stain, and is observing her with mildly befuddled benevolence.

“But, I…” she trails off, even as he reaches for her hand.

“It is fine,” he cuts in, squeezing reassuringly with his fingers. “You are a woman. Such things happen. There is no need for shame,” his eyes are soft with understanding. “I do have sisters, you know,” he adds with a sanguine laugh, a shorthand to explain his knowledge of her predicament.

Sophie’s mouth falls open a fraction, completely taken aback by his affable, almost nonchalant reaction; it is very different from what she has been expecting. While she flounders in surprise, Benedict rolls away and gets out of bed, padding around to her side, crouching next to her and drawing her into his arms.

“You… you are not repulsed?” She stutters as she recovers, her brow creasing.

“Of course not, my love. It is perfectly natural, and there is nothing about you or your body that repulses me,” he assures, kissing her cheek. “In fact, it is very much the opposite,” his tone sincere and soothing.

Lost in his hazy eyes and gentle smile, Sophie accepts his doting kisses, which make her feel warm from head to toe. It is then he looks down and spies the bathing cloth she has swaddled herself in from the waist down.

“I assume your nightgown is in a similar state? And that you would like to get clean?” he guesses empathetically as she nods demurely. “Then I shall summon the staff to run you a bath,” he hums, delicately brushing the stray strands of hair that had fallen askew in her scrambling efforts.

“I can do that,” she protests gently, still not used to the idea she has people to perform such simple tasks for her. 

“You are perfectly capable, indeed,” he concurs, kissing her jaw delicately. “But I am sure you are in some discomfort. Please allow me, our staff, or indeed anyone in the world to look after you for once, my love. It is more than you deserve…”

Sophie is floored by his reaction and his loving concern. His face breaks into that crooked smile that makes butterflies flutter under her ribs. 

“Darling, we have promised ourselves to each other for life. I expect to see this many more times,” he explains calmly as he rings a bell to summon his staff and provides instructions for a warm bath to be drawn and the bedding to be changed.

“You do not wish for me to sleep elsewhere when I am so afflicted?” she checks as soon as they are alone again.

He chuckles as he did before. “Whatever for? You are my wife. I want you beside me all the time. It matters not to me if you have your courses. I still wish to fall asleep with you in my arms.” His sweet sincerity makes her heart skip a beat as he nuzzles her temple. “Although it has been a few short days since our wedding, I have rather gotten used to you being beside me. I cannot sleep soundly without you, my love. Nor would I want to try. We shall share our bed every night,” he adds solemnly.

“But, what if one of us is sick?” she inquires as he helps her to stand up from the floor, pulling her into his arms.

“‘Tis no bother. We shall surely both contract the same, seeing as we reside under the same roof; at least we can suffer in company,” Benedict jests warmly into her ear as his hands rub her lumbar spine in a pattern that soothes the dull ache she feels there.

“What if you must travel for your art?” 

“I would be heartbroken if you did not come with me,” he volleys back with a playful pout that she can’t help but giggle at.

“What if one day we have a child, and they will not rest without their mother?” 

Her question is almost timid, knowing there is a bloom on her cheeks at the very thought. He cups her jaw gently and tilts her face to look up into his. His mien is so devoted that the very air is stolen from her lungs. 

“Then they shall simply sleep between us, my love. It will be my child, too. You will not be alone. Not anymore. Not for another day unless you wish it. Not when you have your monthly courses and not in raising our children. Of that, I promise,” his cadence is lilting and ardent.

“Thank you, Benedict,” Sophie breathes shakily, scarcely able to believe this fairytale is coming true, that she genuinely has, for the first time in her life, someone who has her back, her hand and her heart all at once. It makes her feel so profoundly moved and grateful she cannot stop her emotions, heightened at this time of the month, from bubbling over.

A large, warm thumb blots the tears that gather at the corner of her eyes without comment; he just accepts her state, bussing a kiss onto her forehead.

“I love you, Sophie,” he breathes, warm air gusting over her skin.

“I love you too, Benedict,” her reply muffled into his neck as she moulds into his strong embrace, remaining there until a lady’s maid taps quietly on the door to convey that her bath is ready.

And true to his word, over the years, Sophie is never a night without her husband. Through many monthly courses, through sickness and health, through four children and even grandchildren. It is always his face she sees just before her eyes droop closed and the moment they flutter open again. Her safe space. Her comfort. 

No taglist, as this is not my usual x-reader content.

[cambion-companion]

Hi! If you’re taking requests right now, I was wondering if you do a comfort fic with Aemond. I’m on my period currently and just want something soft lol. Also I love the way you write it’s so good. 💗

Aww, yes of course! I wanted to do a little drabble for you ASAP because I know how horrible cramps can be!

Aemond x fem!reader | fluff and comfort

You groaned loudly, shifting on the soft mattress until you lay on your back. The pain in your abdomen was overwhelming, like multiple hot knives slicing into you.

Aemond rolled over onto his side from where he had been slumbering next to you, awakened by your restless movements. "What's the matter, Y/N?" His voice was still groggy from sleep.

"It's nothing. Just some pain." You could hardly get the words out through your clenched teeth.

The mattress dipped beside you as the prince propped himself up on his forearm, leaning over to get a better look at your face. "You look quite ill. Was it something you ate? Should I fetch the maester?"

"Gods no!" Your forceful reply took Aemond by surprise, he looked at you with a furrowed brow, trying to understand.

You sighed heavily, turning and bringing your knees up to your chest, trying unsuccessfully to get more comfortable. "It's my moon cycle. Usually it's not this painful."

"Ah." Aemond breathed, realization dawning across his handsome features.

He studied your taut face a moment longer, his gaze soft, before slipping out of the bed. "I will be a moment." He looked back at you briefly before exiting the room.

"It's not contagious." You muttered, a little affronted at his quick departure.

It wasn't long, however, before Aemond returned. He carried several glass bottles, corked, full of an unknown substance. "Salve, for the pain." He said simply, striding to your side of the bed where he sat beside you. "Tell me where the pain is located."

Smiling slightly, you shifted the bedcovers off and gestured to your lower belly. "It's all over here, and also my lower back."

"Is it a dull pain or sharp?"

"Definitely both."

"Hmm." Aemond tsked, still studying you with concern. He leaned down to place a kiss to your clammy forehead. "Lift your nightgown for me?"

You obeyed, bunching your long shift up around your waist so Aemond had better access to your bare skin. The cool morning air caressed your legs, causing you to rub them together for warmth. Aemond uncorked the largest of the bottles, dipping his long fingers to gather some of the creamy salve therein. You flinched at the cold ointment on your skin but quickly relaxed as Aemond dexterously began massaging your abdomen. He worked on your muscles with both hands, rubbing the salve so that it soaked into your skin.

You sighed in pleasure as his hands kneaded the flesh of your waist as well, the tingly feeling of the ointment mixed with his careful administrations relieving a bit of your pain.

"Turn over for me." Aemond urged you gently onto your stomach, resuming his massage upon the tense muscles of your lower back.

"That feels so good." You groaned into the pillow, as Aemond scooped more salve onto his fingers. "Thank you for helping me."

"Always, my love."

He continued massaging your back for quite some time, until the soreness in your body was almost forgotten and you had drifted into a semi-slumber, his warm hands upon your skin soothing you.

A gentle kiss was placed upon your shoulder, rousing you back to full wakefulness. "I am going to fetch some hot tea from the kitchens. Are you hungry?"

You rolled back over, smiling sleepily up at Aemond as he helped pull your nightgown back down. The herbal smell from the salve lingered pleasantly in the room. "Not yet, but I probably will be famished soon."

"I will bring some food as well then."

"I love you."

Aemond smiled, kissing the tip of your nose briefly. "I know."

[weidaoduzun3]

How I Structure My Hermetic Praxis with the Help of the Preces Templi PDF

Now, without trying to tackle and unpack what a “Hermetic praxis” entails or means philosophically or scholarly, we are going to briefly summarize that it is a practice that includes adherence to the teachings of the writings attributed to Hermes [Trismegistos], along with an adherence to the teachings found in such tractates such as the Greek Magical Papyri (PGM) and Picatrix, and many other magical/astrological treatises. Does one have to use the Picatrix or PGM? No of course not. This is just what my Hermetic praxis looks like. Nothing in here is “canon” or dogma. I am just expressing how the Preces Templi e-book by the incredible Sam Block, aka “Polyphanes” helped me restructure my praxis with a strong adherence to the teachings found in the Corpus Hermeticum (CH), Latin Asclepius (AH), and the Definitions From Hermes to Asclepius (DH), to name a few. A link to his Ko-Fi shop will be at the bottom of the page. I encourage anyone who is looking to structure a “Hermetic praxis” with an adherence to classical “Hermetic” texts and treatise to investigate his shop and also come join us in the HhoL (Hermetic House of Life) discord server! These things I practice are mingled and co-exist with an already daily devotion to the gods of Egypt and Greece, which that devotion can be deemed “Hermetic,” most certainly, but not all the time. Alright, now that I’ve introduced what I am talking about. Let’s get into what I do upon arrival, upon waking up I mean.

The first words out of my mouth upon my arrival will be taken from Chapter 2.2.1 from the e-book “Opening Supplication.” I find that a quick little praise or thanks to The All helps keep me focused and more mindful of my day-to-day interactions with others. It also reminds me to give thanks to the gods before I embark on any task, mundane or spiritual. Allowing me to start and complete every task with Divine influence. If I don’t say this upon awakening from my slumber, I usually say this little maxim to Amun: “Awake being rested, may you awake in peace! May Amun awake in life and peace! May NN (I insert my magical pseudonym here) awake in peace!”

After washing and stretching, I’ll say the prayer from CH I. 31-32, which Polyphanes lists as the Triple Trisagion, in Chapter 2.3. A beautiful prayer that closes the first chapter of the Corpus Hermeticum. I personally don’t use his translation, simply out of practicality reasons, as it is easier to just grab my Hermetica translated by Brian Copenhaver than to open up my PDF file of the Preces Templi. Though if I’m on the go, running late, or whatever it may be, the Preces Templi e-book is always a few taps away for me to show my devotion just on the go!

Next, after the closing prayer from CH I. 31-32, I say the prayer in the back of book 2 of the Ars Paulina to my Holy Guardian Angel. Now praying to your personal daimon, HGA, natal genius, whatever you want to call it isn’t found in the Preces Templi, nor found in any philosophical Hermetica. A method to get in contact with your “Personal genius” is found in the Picatrix, an astrological treatise attributed to Hermes. To me, this suggests the importance of getting in touch with your personal daimon for a Hermetic praxis.

Moving on to when I’ll come home from school or work. I’ll meditate informally (meaning without my ritual attire) on the sayings or maxims from chapter 3.2 of the Preces Templi e-book.  These sayings are also employed when getting things ready for a theurgical invocation or my daily silent prayer for the god I am honoring that day.

Some of my favorites from Chapter 3.2 of the e-book are from the Stobaean fragments: SH 1.2 says, “What cannot be expressed—this is God.” CH XII.23: “There is but one religion of god, and that is not be evil.” Lastly, from CH XVI.11: “Irreverence is mankind's greatest evil against the gods.”  Such beautiful work Polyphanes has done organizing all these sayings from various Hermeticas into practical guides so that these can be recited or simply meditated on. The choice is yours to decide what to do with these organizations’ young mages!

So, imagine that today is Thursday. On Thursdays, I honor Asklepios. Along with the Orphic Hymn I sing to Asklepios in the mornings, later in the day, I’ll use chapter 7.22 from the e-book: “Hymn to Asklepios.” Tuesdays are for Anpu, so sometimes I may use 7.20: “The Hymn to Anubis” instead of some handwritten hymns for the wonderous Foremost of the Western gods! On Fridays, I perform the Israeli Regardie Hymn to Isis, and then I’ll use chapter 7.12 from the e-book titled: “The Hymn to Eros” to honor both Isis and Eros on Fridays. All these hymns found in chapter 7 of the e-book can be referenced to the Greek Magical Papyri.

I use this e-book almost like a springboard to help further my studies and structure my devotional praxis. These are prayers and hymns in this e-book. No concrete “rituals” or anything of that nature. With some homework, though, one can use the e-book to bring some fundamental structure and ritualize what is here into your own practice! I don’t use everything here; I’m keen on constructing my hymns and theurgical invocations. But it’s a tremendous and invaluable resource that is super cheap, and it has greatly aided my structuring of my own ritual praxis. I love this e-book, and I’m sure if you follow and enjoy my musings, you’ll enjoy and find the fruits within the Preces Templi e-book.

https://kofi.com/s/751c99dfa9

https://digitalambler.com/2020/12/09/new-ebook-for-sale-preces-templi/

[nottoxicfr]

So…

*steeples fingers*

FFXIII Rosegarden. I must know the inspiration aside from FFXIII being AMAZING (and my childhood) and also RWBY for the same reasons.

Scratch that, I must know everything. This is a crossover I never knew I needed.

I’m sorry this took so long! Seriously, my bad. If you have any questions, please tell me. I promise I won't take three months to answer this time

This will be long.

For inspiration, the short story is that I have a lot of Final Fantasy-RWBY AUs, for basically all the Final Fantasy games I think of regularly (7, 8, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16) and even in the scope of Final Fantasy 13, I have a 13-1 and a 13-2 and a 13-3LR AU. I also have a KH AU I've been working on.

This'll just be the Final Fantasy 13-1 AU, though I’ll link the other story details when I post them.

Just to run through a few things, just to set a baseline of how the world works. This is a Remnant where the world increasingly reveals elements from Final Fantasy 13, rather than a true crossover.

For example, the l’Cie and the Fal’Cie are the same idea in concept. The l’Cie are branded servants of the Fal’Cie, mechanical deities serving the Gods themselves. However, in this story, the l’Cie are a fairy tale to even Ozma, which means he only has a strange idea of what they actually are. Only l’Cie really knows what being a l’Cie entails.

A l’Cie is:

Someone who has been branded with a tattoo by a Fal’Cie, essentially the sign that they’ve been given a quest and a vision (a Focus) of what they have to accomplish

The tattoo slowly grows, setting a time limit for their quest. As it grows, the l’Cie also gains the ability to harness magic

However, if they fail to accomplish their task in time, they will be transformed into a monster, a Ci’eth

Someone who is branded naturally attracts Grimm to them, which makes traveling more difficult

Oscar is aged up here a bit, just a year younger than Ruby, and this takes place during a pseudo-Beacon Arc time period.

Oscar is the first l’Cie of the story. His brand is on his neck, under his bandage wraps. His Focus, his quest, is to awaken the slumbering Fal’Cie hidden around Remnant. They were put to sleep when the Brothers left Remnant and, for some reason, they’ve judged it time for them to awaken.

Outside of being a L’cie, he’s just a regular guy at this point and that makes it hard for him to get where he needs to go. For this reason, he hires Ruby to help him get to Forever Fall Forest, which is where he thinks the Fal’Cie he needs to awaken is.

The first arc takes place in Vale, where Oscar’s tremendous bad luck causes a trip that should only take a few hours take several days, which pushes him up the edge of his time limit. Naturally, this puts him in a bad mood, which makes him and Ruby have some friction between them. The situation is somewhat smoothed over when Oscar shows Ruby some magic and he vaguely explains that he needs to get to Forever Fall soon or he’ll die a miserable death.

Ruby distracts him for a little while by talking to him about her Team and asking him about his life. He worked on a farm for most of his life, his aunt died recently, and he’s always wanted to see the world. They fight several packs of Grimm as they hike and Ruby contemplates calling in reinforcements because, for some reason, Oscar insists he’s on a time limit.

They arrive in Beacon where they meet up with WBY and Team JNPR briefly, only to hop on a wagon heading to Forever Fall. Oscar is, at this point, seemingly kind of sketchy. To be fair to him, he’s basically dying.

The arc resolves when Oscar and Ruby plummet down into a sinkhole and find the sleep Fal’Cie of Forever Fall, Behemoth, who brands Ruby simply for being nearby. Now, aside from being paid, Ruby has been dragged into this race to awaken the Fal’Cie, much to the frustration of Oscar. He doesn’t feel comfortable with that, but there’s not a lot he can do but beg an uncaring Fal’Cie to unbrand her.

On the upside, Oscar is given an extension of his time limit and a new vision. He needs to go to the floating city in the sky (Atlas) next, which is where he needs to find the twin Fal’Cie sleeping there.

Ruby is branded as the second l’Cie. She has a brand at her collarbone, hidden under her shirt. Her Focus is to awaken the slumbering Fal’Cie as well, although she also catches further glimpses into the future that put an emphasis on encroaching darkness.

This starts the second arc, Atlas, or the journey to Atlas.

It kicks off when Ruby essentially runs away without telling anyone, under the assumption that once Oscar and her finish their quest, she’ll come back and explain everything. It’s not a very good plan, but she’s understandably occupied by everything that’s going on with her life right now. Ruby and Oscar try and fail to rent a car because they’re both underage. Following this, Ruby tries to buy them tickets directly to Atlas, which doesn’t work because travel to Atlas has suddenly jammed up. Instead, they have to take an indirect route from Anima (the Mistal continent) to Mantle, which takes a few more days but that’s fine.

Yang is, understandably, incredibly distressed that her sister seems to have given up her dreams of being a Huntress to chase after a boy she met three days ago. She reports this to Qrow, who tells Ozpin, who tries to get an understanding of what happened. Yang tells Ozpin about the weird stuff that she heard Oscar and Ruby talking about before, which entails something about Fal’Cie and l’Cie and the Kingdom of Atlas. 

She suspects Ruby has joined a cult and is, again, incredibly distressed.

As stated before, the words l’Cie and fal’Cie are like myths to Ozma. They’re messengers of the Gods and assistants to their angels and, most importantly, they’re almost synonymous with great change. Not good or bad, just big changes in the world. This rings alarm bells in Ozpin’s mind, though not to the point of overreaction.

Ozpin asks Yang to take Team WBY and go after her sister, just to make sure she’s alright and to try and bring her and Oscar back. Ozpin wants to speak with both of them over this supposed l’Cie business. Qrow says he’ll do some scouting ahead to search for them, hopefully, to wrap this whole thing up quickly. He’s not too fond of the idea that some kid swept Ruby away from Beacon.

Ozpin informs his inner circle about all of this, just to keep them updated. It seems like Ruby and Oscar are headed to Anima and then to Atlas, they’re talking about l’Cie stuff which is crazy because, etc…etc… He wants Leonardo to investigate Oscar Pine, he wants Ironwood to try and bring them both in and most importantly, Ozpin just wants to talk.

The lack of details makes Ironwood have a bit of an overreaction. The l’Cie are agents of change in the world and, with the Vital Festival on the horizon, it seems more likely to him that these “l’Cie” are probably going to cause a negative effect. He mobilizes some of his elite forces to capture Ruby and Oscar, as well as putting out wanted posters on Scrolls that these two people are wanted for questioning. It’s a bit of an overreaction, but in his mind, it’s better to be cautious when it comes to mysterious things that haven’t been heard of since Ozma was a child.

Leonardo reports this to Salem soon after, having defected to her not that long ago. Just as troubled by this reappearance of a fairy tale from her childhood as Oz was, she tells Cinder to go find them. She can kill one of them, but she needs the other one to question about what’s going on.

To summarize:

Yang, Blake, and Weiss are chasing after Ruby and Oscar from Vale. Qrow is also looking for them as a bird.

Ironwood told Winter and some of her troops to go to Mistral and cut them off. He also made wanted posters for them.

Salem told Cinder to go find Oscar, who told Roman to spread the word and find them.

Meanwhile, Ruby and Oscar’s air ferry to the port crash lands because, apparently, l’Cie magic disagrees with technology. They have no idea they’re being chased until Ruby sees a wanted poster on her Scroll, detailing that Oscar is a potential terrorist and Ruby is either an accomplice or a hostage. This causes Ruby to freak out and summon her Eidolon, essentially a summoned spirit meant to assist a l’Cie in the quest. She and Oscar have to subdue it before it attacks the people on the crashed ferry, because a freshly summoned Eidolon is naturally berserk.

Her Eidolon is Carbuncle, which basically takes the form of a giant wolf-cat when it is going berserk and is much smaller after being tamed. It has the ability to produce elemental dust from a gemstone in its forehead and is, generally, more of a support Eidolon.

They have to run now because Carbuncle managed to destroy a hefty part of the ferry while it was attacking them, which upgrades them from potential terrorists to probable terrorists, even if it’s only on accident.

This is as far as I’ve written properly because I’ve also been writing a dozen other things. As I said before, I have a lot of Final Fantasy AUs. However, I do have vague details on how things progress from there.

Ruby and Oscar run into Yang, Blake, and Weiss just as they arrive in the port town where they have to board a boat. They end up getting into a fight, Ruby verbally and Oscar physically, because of the miscommunications involved. It’s hard to explain being a l’Cie to someone who doesn’t have the context of apparently sleeping Gods under Remnant. For the most part, Oscar’s part of the fighting ends up being running away and casting magic, which baffles all three of the Huntresses (because of genuine magic) and ends up casting a Thunder (Thundara) spell too close to Blake. This knocks her out.

They board the boat, just barely managing to escape from Ruby’s teammates and there’s a climactic moment where Yang has to watch the boat depart without being able to chase after them. WBY makes plans to keep up the pursuit as soon as they can, with Qrow flying ahead to Mistral.

When Ruby and Oscar get to Mistral, where they’ll board another ferry to go to the north and then get on a boat, there’s a scene that plays out similarly to when Snow rescues Lighting and Hope in FF13.

Winter corners Ruby and Oscar in a plaza with her troops, putting handcuffs on Ruby, only for Yang to show up on a motorcycle and rescue both of them. Blake and Weiss provide supporting fire and they all escape to the rooftops to get away. This puts Mistral on high alert, which shuts down the air ferry, complicating matters significantly. Still, Ruby and Oscar are grateful they weren’t captured. At this point, Ruby’s brand is halfway developed.

They all talk things over and, although WBY don’t necessarily believe everything they’re saying, they decide to help them get to Atlas. Yang also frets over Ruby’s tattoo-brand, which feels relaxingly normal to the group.

While all of that is going on, Cinder begins to make moves towards Atlas, planning to take advantage of the chaos the l’Cie are causing to damage Atlas and capture them. Salem is contemplating what to do about the awakening Fal’Cie, who is purging the overpopulation of Grimm in the world.

Oscar summons his Eidolon, Pegasus, which can turn into a motorbike with wings.

Ruby falls off of Atlas, but is saved by Oscar in a Bullhead.

When they get to Atlas and awaken one of the Fal’Cie there, WBY gets branded as l’Cie. It’s kind of like a spreading curse, and eventually, it will reach JNPR too. That comes later on though.

One of the Fal’Cie is located under Mantle, Vulcan, and the other one is located on the under side of the island of Atlas, Venus. WBY is entirely branded by Vulcan, and Winter and Penny are branded by Venus (though this isn’t something RWBYO is aware of).

There’s only one more Fal’Cie to awaken after this, which is located in Vacuo.

-Oscar awakened the Mistral one

Ruby and Oscar awakened the Vale one

Ruby, Oscar, Yang, Blake, and Weiss awaken Vulcan, which awakens Venus

The last one is in Vacuo. JNPR and Oscar will end up awakening it by falling into a ravine (Woo!)

The final stage of the story reveals that the Fal’Cie want to harvest the collected souls of Humanity so they can use that power to evolve into a God themselves and follow after their creators. They despise Humanity and resent having to serve the inferior creations of the Brothers. Everyone takes a stance on what to do about that, though the main characters decide to fight that. This goes against their final vision, which tells them they are meant to assist in harvesting the souls of Humanity. This is called Humanity's Fall!

Pyrrha does get stabbed in the process and possibly dies, which relates to the RWBY x Final Fantasy 13-2 AU. I love interconnecting these things.

I love talking. If you have any questions or ideas about anything, please ask. Please. Again, my bad. It's been a rough few months.