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joelscruff · 6 months ago

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imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

#joel miller x reader #*#1500 kisses challenge

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lamiadrowned · 27 days ago

Note

what if Jinx had an affectionate girlfriend? I want to assume Jinx is touch starved so having a girlfriend that loves cuddles and holding hands is a dream come true

*:･ﾟ✧ jinx with an affectionate girlfriend

jinx x fem!reader | sfw

i love her so much :(

it would take her a bit of time to get used to this dynamic.

her entire life, she’s never put much thought into relationships, nonetheless ever believed she’d end up in one, and she’s so happy she did!

especially with someone who seems to love her so deeply, despite how chaotic and difficult she can be at times.

the first few times you guys go out together, you’re always touching her, and she picks up on that quickly. you’re either holding her hand, fidgeting with her fingers, placing your arm around her waist, or playing with the loose strands of navy blue hair that frame her face.

she has no complaints. it makes her feel… warm. safe. appreciated.

but she doesn’t really think of reciprocating this until a small altercation between the two of you.

one day, you’re sitting on the edge of her workbench, listening intently as she shows you the scribbled blueprint of a new invention she’s working on. you can’t remember the name and you have no idea what any of it means, but you’re nodding like you understand so that she’ll keep talking.

“alright, what’s the problem? is it something i said?” she asks you suddenly.

you tilt your head. “what?”

“don’t play dumb! you haven’t touched me at all today!” she grumbles. “you’re always touching me. i mean, did i do something wrong? or–”

“jinx.” you cut her off firmly. “stop that. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

she looks stumped. so, you continue. “i don’t know. it’s just… you never do it to *me,* you know? it’s always me, touching you. i thought, maybe, you didn’t really like it. something tells me that’s not the case.”

your explanation is met with silence, and she stares at you like she’s seen a ghost.

she can’t believe you feel that way. this whole relationship thing is new to her! she had no idea her own self doubt could end up hurting you the way it did.

her first instinct is to apologize. to reassure you that, going forward, she’d be sure to give you as much as you give her, because she really does love the affection.

in no time, she’s just as cuddly as you!

each night that the two of you spend together is spent wrapped up in each other. legs crossed over legs, arms tangled with arms, faces pressed to chests with a constantly growing need to be closer to each other.

i saw somebody else post something about this, but she’d definitely be the type to say something like ‘i wish i could crawl inside you’. she truly can’t get close enough once she learns how good it feels.

and one of many good effects of this is that when she’s having a particularly bad day, you can calm her down in an instant.

if it happens to be one of many days where she’s hearing voices, seeing things that you can’t see, berating people who aren’t really there, all you need to do is put a hand on her shoulder to make her aware of your presence. it’s grounding enough that you can pull her into a tight hug and stroke her hair as she cries into your shoulder.

if it’s one of those days that she’s just angry, where she feels like everything is horrible and everyone else is rotten, you can change her mind in less than an hour by simply leading her to bed and convincing her to lay down for a bit while you undo her braids and scratch at her scalp.

when you play with her hair, it makes her melt, so you’re careful to preserve that effect– you only do it when you feel like she could really use it.

and as for you, if she finds out you’re having a bad day, jinx has learned from the best and she puts her knowledge to good use.

if you’re alone, she’ll pull you into her lap and caress your back, guiding you to rest your head in the crook of her neck because she knows how much you love to be there. if you want to talk about it, she’ll listen. if you don’t, she’ll pick a random topic to ramble about in hopes to take your mind off of things.

if you’re in public, she’ll grab your hand and squeeze it, stroking your palm with her thumb.

unless it’s somebody in particular that’s bothering you. she has no second thoughts about leaving you for a few minutes to go teach them a lesson. either way, the problem gets solved.

given how long she’s gone without any sort of physical affection, it’ll all be very new to her for a while, but jinx is a quick leaner.

sooner than later, your relationship starts to feel more like a constant competition over who’s more touchy and who can get the last kiss.

it’s so mushy! she hates it.

(she loves it).

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane jinx #jinx #jinx x reader

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cressidagrey · 1 month ago

Text

It's a Love Story - Chapter 8

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

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

Sky didn’t have much of a temper.

Even if she was frustrated or annoyed, she rarely got angry or lost her patience.

It wasn't that she didn't have emotions. She did. She felt things deeply, passionately. However, she also believed that there was no point in wasting energy on getting angry. It didn't solve anything. It only made things worse.

So Sky had learned a very, very long time ago…that there was no need to start screaming, because her stutter didn’t allow her that anyway…and that maybe…maybe it was easier for her to just let go off her anger about being unfairly treated.

Getting angry wouldn’t help her.

That day however…it burst out of her. Burst out of her like somebody had lanced an abscess.

Her family could say whatever they wanted about her. But they were not going to say a single word about Azriel

It was Winter Solstice.

Azriel and her had spent the last month or so enjoying winter season in Velaris…even once trying to ice skate on their lake, which only ended with him kissing her skinned knees, because she was definitely not a natural at it.

They had bought Winter Solstice gifts, and baked cookies…had decorated their house with pine garlands and velvet ribbons…

She had knitted them socks and they had made rabbit stews out of rabbits Azriel had hunted in the forest behind their house. (It was…she had never really seen him as a warrior, even when he wore these black leathers and the blue stone that glinted off him…but she could see him as a hunter, when he came home with a couple of rabbits, ready for dinner. It had also resulted in a new fur lined blanket for her, all ready on the couch.

She had never outright asked…but he seemd to like it when she was cuddled beneath it, like it seemed to soothe some kind of instinct for him. Maybe the fact that it was the animal he had hunted?)

Sky and Azriel had both made the decision to spend the days with their respective families and have their own Solstice celebrations the next day…that would pretty much sonsits out of a lazy day in bed and nothing else.

It sounded amazing. Just what they wanted.

And it had made sense to celebrate like that. She hadn’t wanted to be the one to keep him from his family after all, even if the thought of not spending Solstice with her mate had hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Azriel had been up ridiculous easily in the morning for a snowball fight that was apparently tradition…but not before he had spent a good half hour making her scream his name with his mouth between her thighs…

Afterwards, she had gotten dressed and left the shadows to amuse Hector for the day… and Sky had left to help her mother with dinner preparations.

A nice, quiet family dinner. Nothing more and nothing less.

That’s what it was supposed to be. They didn’t even get that far.

It all went to shit before dinner was even in the oven.

From the moment she entered her parents house it was a barrage of barbed comments. About her appearance, her stutter, her lack of an boyfriend…her lack of a proper job. (Sellyn Drake was hers. Sellyn Drake was nothing they got to gossip about.)

Sky had bitten her tongue. She had ignored the comments, tried to enjoy herself. But Claire never knew when enough was enough.

Her sister kept at it. Kept needling, jabbing at Sky until the little bubbles of anger popped to the surface and boiled into something…bigger.

“I…I met my m…mate,” Sky finally said flatly, after anther jab at her lack of a boyfriend.

Take that Claire. Not just a fiance. A mate.

Finally in just one thing Sky had been faster than her sister.

A mate. That mystical rare mating bond had been a gift from the other for her and not for Claire.

It caught Claire off guard. She stopped pacing, and turned to look at her sister, brow raised. The look said ‘Oh is that so?’ as if it was the kind of nonsense she had come to expect from her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, clearly not believing a word Sky said.

But Sky wasn’t going to let this go. “His n..name is Azriel,” Sky said with a smile. “We are ver…very hap…happy.”

They were. They were so happy. So delightfully happy. (So delightfully happy that Sky had been wondering if maybe…maybe the should start trying. High Fae fertility was hit or miss anyway…why shouldn’t they simply start trying and see where it would take them. And if it took two decades, then it took two decades. If it only took a year or three…well, then they were lucky.)

Claire narrowed her eyes. She was about to say something mean, Sky could see it in the way her lip curled up.

“He…He's a g��good male,” she said firmly, cutting Claire off before she got the chance to spew out anything else.

Claire laughed. It was a harsh, biting sound.

"A good male? Really, Sky?" she sneered. "You actually fell for that line?"

It wasn’t a line. It was the truth.

Azriel was a good male. Patient and intense and loving. He had never raised a single finger against her.Azriel would never hurt her intentionally.

Claire just wanted to belittle Sky in front of their whole family.

"You must be even more naive than you seem if you believe that," she said, almost pityingly. "You really think he wants you? That he actually cares about you? Nobody could want you. I bet he just pities you."

It should have hurt her, she realised. It would have. Even just months ago, it would have hurt her.

But right now…right now it didn’t really.

She was supposed to believe that Azriel didn’t want her? The same male that had spent the better part of an hour on his knees in front of her that very morning, eating her out like a starved male? She was supposed that her mate, who’s arousal shot across the bond like an inferno any time she slipped off her clothes, didn’t want her? That the same male that stared at her like she was a goddess, that spent hours worshipping her body with his hands…that she had nearly made come simply by touching his wings a few days ago didn’t want her?

Still…Claire's words had their effect. She felt a small stab of doubt in her heart, and she hated it. She hated that her sister could still hurt her like this, still make her feel like that insecure little girl who stuttered and couldn't get a single word right.

“He…He l…loves me and I…I love him,” Sky said calmly.

That was clear in every single one of his actions, in every single word.

“Where did you even meet him?” Sky’s mother demanded. “And what kind of name is Azriel?”

“In…In a bar. Wh…When we went out for Cl..Claire’s Hen Do. And I im…imagine it’s an Il…illyrian name.”

Everything ground to a halt.

“He’s Illyrian?!” Her mother demanded sharply. “What’s wrong with you, Skylar!”

Sky flinched at her tone. It was harsh, angry. It was the same tone she'd always used when Sky was younger and got anything wrong or stepped out of line.

"Yes, he's Il…Illlyrian," she said, meeting her mother's gaze levelly. "What's…what’s wrong with that?" she asked.

She knew that her family wasn’t the…most open about Lesser Faes, but…but that hatred in her mother’s voice….she hadn’t expected that.

“Everything,” Admon gave back with a snort. “You seriously let that barbarian fuck you? I am surprised you actually survived that and he didn’t just rip you apart.”

Every bit of colour leeched out of her face, except her ruddy red cheeks at these crude words.

This was Admon. Once upon a time, she had wanted to marry him. To have his children. To spent her life with him.

And…and this was what he told her to her face.

“I can’t believe that you even let a creature like him touch you,” her mother breathed staring at her with utter disgust.

“He’...He’s not a cre…creature,” Sky bit out. Azriel was her mate.

“Is it true by the way?” Her brother wondered. “That Illyrian’s have a cat’s prick?”

"Orin!" her mother exclaimed, aghast. "Don't be vulgar! I don't want to know."

Orin shrugged, a smirk dancing across his face. "What? I’m just curious. I am sure Skylar knows. She must please him somehow when she’s still alive to enjoy their…couplings.”

Sky felt ill. She didn't know what to say, what to say in defense of the man she loved. She couldn't get a word out.

“Did you…did you let it touch you?” Her father demanded finally, his voice icy.

It. Not even him. It. Like Azriel was a thing.

Sky felt her heart drop to the floor, breaking into pieces.

"Yes," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Her father's face grew stony, and he took a step closer to her.

“How dare you?” he hissed. "How could you let a monster touch you like that?"

"He's not a monster!" Sky protested, her voice rising. "He's…He’s k…kind and gen…gentle, and-"

“And I am sure, he keeps you stuffed with his cat prick to keep you satisfied,” Claire drawled.

And Sky was done.

Somehow that was the last straw.

Somehow that made something inside her break, irreparable.

It snipped away every thread that ever kept her close to the family that she had been born into.

“At least I didn’t need to take my sister’s sl…sloppy s…seconds,” Sky said, her voice flat, meeting her gaze full on.“And yes, Azriel more than keeps me s…satisfied.”

Silence descended over the room, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Sky felt the tension in the air grow heavier with each passing second.

"You…you didn’t just say that,” Claire said coldly. "You take that back, Sky.

Sky raised her chin defiantly. "No.” she said simply. “I'm…I’m not taking back the truth," she said, her voice ringing with unexpected steel.

"You do not speak to me like that," Claire hissed. "You have no right—"

Something inside Sky snapped. Years of frustration, years of feeling invisible and ignored, years of enduring Claire's taunts and jibes all bubbled to the surface.

"I…I have ev…every right," she shot back, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not so fun when you are on the re…receiving end, is it?”

“Either you end your…dalliance with…that creature, or you are no daughter of mine,” her father snapped.

He talked to her like she was nothing. Like she was worth less than dirt beneath his boots.

And somehow that made it even easier.

“You want me to turn away my mate…for what? This?” She asked him, cocking her head to the side. .

"For the sake of our family’s reputation," her father said. "You are an embarrassment to us all by associating with that…lesser fae barbarian.”

Barbarian. Lesser Fae. Thing. Creature. Monster.

All of that said about the male she loved. About her mate.

“He’s Illyrian,” Sky said, her voice icy.

“Oh come off it,” “Orin snapped. “He’s lesser fae. The only thing they are good for is being fodder for the armies during war times. Other than that, they are worthless.”

Fodder.

“We have Lesser Fae ancestry ourself,” Sky responded icily. “Our great grandmother was a River Nymph.”

"That was a long time ago," her father interrupted sharply. "It was one ancestor generations ago. And besides, her blood was not that strong to begin with."

Sky thought back to the eyes that looked back from her mirror each day. Blue and beautiful. The one trace of her that got passed down to her.

"Maybe it was her blood that made you think that opening your legs for that creature was in any way appropriate," her mother hissed.

And suddenly it was so easy.

“Azriel is my mate,” she hissed. “I will al…always chose him over you. You can spew what..whatever insult you want about him or his pe…peoople. He’s still a bet…better male than any of you could ever hope to be, has treated me better than any of you. I’ll gladly no longer be your daughter.”

She felt the sting of tears running down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away. She just stared back at her family, daring them to say more. There was a short moment of silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

She should have expected it. Her mother had always been quick to slap her if she did anything anything that she didn’t like.

Just this time…her hand didn’t make contact.

Sky stared at the tendril of shadows that jerked her mother’s hand back, having suddenly appeared.

*You. Will. Not. Lay. A. Finger. On. Her,* the shadows hissed menacingly.

Sky stared at the shadows, her eyes widening in shock. They were angry. No. Furious. Utterly and completely furious. Her mother seemed equally taken aback, her hand still outstretched in the air where the shadows had stopped her.

Orin looked like he was about to piss himself, and her father…her father stared at the shadows, his face ashen.

“Come here,” Sky said quietly.

The shadows left her mother to come swarming to her, brushing over her cheek in greeting before wrapping themselves around her neck in a clearly possessive move.

Sky felt the familiar warmth of the shadows sink into her, a small bit of comfort in this awful situation. She turned to her family, her jaw set.

"I’m…I’m never coming back," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. And with that, she turned and walked away, She had only taken a handful of steps when she stopped and turned back, one last thing needing to be said, before she closed the door on this chapter of her life forever.

"I never want to see any of you again," she said, her voice shaking only slightly. "And when we have children, don’t you dare come and ask to have anything to do with them. You don’t deserve to even breath the same air as my mate."

With that, she turned and walked away, her head held high.

***

Whatever went on between sky and her family…it wasn’t good. He could feel that in the bond slumbering underneath his breast bone.

He rubbed it absentmindly, staring in the flickering flame of the Birchin.

He had won that Snowball fight. Once more. One more victory to add to it. Not that he particularly cared right now.

*Is she alright?* he asked the shadows.

The shadows were…quiet. And that spoke volumes. Something wasn't right. Azriel's heart pounded against his chest, his instincts urging him to act. He had to make sure Sky was alright. He couldn't stand to think about her being in any sort of trouble.

*Physicallly unharmed,* the shadows promised. *Her family is horrible,* they told him distastefully.

Azriel's heart clenched at the shadow’s words. While it was a small relief that Sky wasn't physically hurt…her family being horrible made him want to grimace.

“Alright, I had it!” Cassian snapped at that moment. “What the fuck is going on with you two?”

Azriel turned to his brother, seeing Cassian watch Rhys and himself with an expression of…something. Exasperation maybe.

"What do you mean?" Azriel asked, his voice even, feigning ignorance. He was really not in the mood to get into that either. But apparently he wasn’t going to get that small bit of mercy.

"Don’t play dumb with me, brother," Cassian said, rolling his eyes. "You are both moody and more distant than usual. What the heck happened?"

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Azriel said flatly. Cassian rolled his eyes.

“Rhys?” Cassian demanded with a sigh.

“You want to explain or shall I?” Rhys addressed him and Azriel just looked at him flatly.

“You gave the orders, High Lord.”

If Azriel had been in a better mood, he would have smirked. But right now, he just wanted this whole conversation to be over so he could check on Sky. The thought of her made his chest ache. He longed to see her, to hold her, to make sure she's alright. But he knew that Cassian and Rhys wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.

“Azriel and I…had a disagreement about Elain.” Azriel just stared at Rhys blankly. Seriously, that was the best Rhys could come up with? That’s what he wanted to go with?!

"A disagreement?" Cassian asked, brows raised. "What kind of disagreement? A 'we came to an agreement' kind of disagreement, or a 'we punched each other in the face' disagreement?"

“A ‘Rhys sticks his nose into things that are none of his business’ disagreement,” Azriel gave back drily.

“Excuse me, you were going to kiss ELain while her mate was under the same roof two years ago. Did you ever even consider the political ramifications of that?” Rhys snapped. “For gods sake, Azriel!”

Azriel's jaw clenched at Rhys's words, his temper flaring even as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. "You think I didn't consider the consequences? Of course, I did," he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "But feelings aren't logical, Rhys. We don't choose who we fall for, and it's not as simple as calculating political ramifications."

“I told Azriel to keep away from Elain. She fell for Lucien. He’s still moping about it and giving me the fault,” Rhys said flatly. “Out of pure interest, how much longer do you want to keep up with that, Az?”

Azriel couldn’t help the laugh that burst out od his mouth at that.

“You didn’t just fucking tell me to keep away from her. You told me and I quote ‘If you need to fuck somebody go to a pleasure hall and pay for it’,” Azriel repeated viciously.

"And I stand by that," Rhys snapped. "The last thing we need is for you to pine over someone who has made it clear where she stands. Elain has her mate, and she doesn't return your feelings. She’s married for gods’ sake!”

“Whoa!” Cassian cut them off. “What the fuck, Rhys?!”

"What?" Rhys demanded, glaring at Cassian.

Cassian gave him an incredulous look. "You told Azriel to go to a pleasure hall? Seriously?"

"I was trying to be helpful," Rhys said, his jaw clenching.

"Helpful?" Cassian asked incrediously. "Helpful would have been to be a little more understanding towards your brother's feelings. He does have them, you know,” Cassian said sarcastically.

"I know that," Rhys snapped. "But he needs to move on. It's not healthy to keep pining after someone who doesn't return his feelings."

“Where was this opinion for the 500 years of me pining after Mor?” Azriel snapped.

Rhys's expression darkened. "Don't do that, Azriel. Don't bring Mor into this. She's not relevant to this discussion."

”Not relevant?” Azriel gave back with a laugh. “I think she’s very relevant. You don’t trust me to act like an adult about my feelings. You ordered me to behave like I am some kind of rabid dog. More than once, more than twice. Constantly. Like I would ever do anything to put Mor and Emerie’s relationship into jeopardy. Don’t worry, High Lord. I’ll behave. I’ll leave Mor and Elain alone. .”

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "This is not about Mor, Azriel. This is about keeping the peace within our Inner Circle. Elain has her own life and her own happiness to think about. Interfering could only bring pain, not just for you, but for everyone involved. That’s why I ordered you to keep your distance. Not because I don’t trust your feelings or your actions, but because sometimes even the best intentions can have unintended consequences."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't give me any of your high and mighty bullshit, Rhysand. You don’t think I am good enough for Mor, and you certainly don't think I am good enough for Elain. But don’t worry, I'll keep my distance, as ordered. I wouldn't want to risk upsetting your perfect little court or ruining your plans for peace. Just tell me who else is off limits, so I know who else I'm not good enough for. Maybe Gwyn? Because remember, ‘don’t you dare to pressure her’?"

Rhys sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Azriel, it's not about who you're 'good enough' for and who you aren't. It's about respecting people's choices and boundaries. Elain has made her choice in Lucien, and I just want to protect her and the peace we've worked so hard to maintain. And no, nobody else is off limits. You're free to…'seek your entertainment' as you please."

His entertainment.

Right.

Azriel snorted, the sound full of derision. “It warms my heart that you give me that permission,” Azriel said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Rhys rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by Azriel's reaction. "I'm not trying to 'give you permission,' Azriel," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to make sure you understand why I'm asking you to behave. I care about you and our inner circle. You're my brother, but I also care about Elain and her happiness. I don't want to see anyone get hurt."

“Have I done anything, anything at all that put her happiness in jeopardy?” Azriel asked, his voices harsh. “I kept away as you ordered. I fucking saved Lucien’s life, so she could be happy.”

"You haven't done anything wrong," Rhys acknowledged, his tone softening. "You've been a better friend to Elain than anyone could have asked. You saved Luicen because you are a good person, not just for Elain's sake. But I still think it’s best if you keep your distance. Not just for her, but for yourself too. Dwelling on feelings that can’t be returned will only bring you pain."

“For cauldron’s sake, Rhys,” Cassian said with a sigh.

Rhys turned his attention to him, the exasperation clear in his eyes. "What, Cassian?" he asked, his tone weary.

Cassian rubbed a hand over his jaw, shaking his head. "You’re so hell bent on keeping the peace you forget that the people in your court have feelings too," he said. "Azriel isn’t some emotionless soldier doing your bidding. He has feelings and desires, just like everyone else. And sometimes it’s not as simple as just moving on."

"I know that," Rhys said, running a hand through his hair. "But sometimes we have to put our own feelings aside for the greater good. As a High Lord, I have to think about the impact my actions could have on others. I'm not trying to shut down Azriel's feelings. I'm just trying to protect him from potential pain.”

“Yeah you did a shitty job at that,” Cassian said drily. “You could have told Mor hundred of years ago to have a conversation with him. You didn’t. But Azriel is supposed to tread carefully not to make her or Emerie uncomfortable. Azriel is supposed to behave?”

Rhys's eyes flashed in anger. "I know I've made mistakes, Cassian. I should have handled things differently with Mor and Azriel. But I can't change the past. All I can do is try to make the best decisions for everyone involved right now."

“You don’t even fucking realise how much of a self important hypocritical asshole you are, do you?” Azriel asked flatly. “It’s okay for you to pursue an engaged female that’s engaged to another High Lord, damn the consequences. But the rest of us…we are told to behave.”

Rhys bristled at Azriel’s words, his own temper threatening to flare. "That's different, Azriel," he said, his voice sharp. "That’s different and you know it. You would understand if you had a…” he hesitated.

"If I had a what?" Azriel prompted sharply.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers clenching around his mug. "A mate."

“Rhys,” Cassian said carefully.

"What?" Rhys snapped, his temper still simmering just below the surface. “He doesn’t have a mate, he doesn’t fucking understand it.”

Aaaaaand…. Azriel was done.

So fucking done.

“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood up.

“Home,” Azriel said flatly. “You have my gifts, hand them out. Wish Feyre a Happy Birthday, will you? I’ll be back to do your bidding in about 3 days, High Lord.”

“I highly doubt that your mother will enjoy your impromptu appearance at Rosehall,” Rhys said. Azriel’s hand twitched towards Truthteller. “Let’s just…”

“Rhysand!” Cassian snapped.

“What?” Rhys asked.

“I have talked to my mother once since the Sealing of Velaris was lifted,” Azriel said tightly. “One conversation where she told me that she found a new family and that I should keep away from her. So no, Rhys. I am not going to Rosehall.”

Rhys looked utterly shell-shocked by Azriel’s revelation. "Azriel, I..." he started, but Azriel simply shook his head.

"Don't," he said. "Just don't." He didn’t wnat to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about that. His mother could do whatever she wanted. he would leave her alone, just as requested. But he was not going to talk about it.

“Then I am coming with you. You are not spending Winter Solstice alone brooding at the House of Wind,” Cassian said quickly, standing.

“I am not going to the House of Wind either.” Azriel answered flatly. “I am going home to my house and I won’t be alone either.”

"What do you mean you won't be alone?" Rhys asked sharply.

Azriel just snorted, “My mate will be there,” he said simply. “She’s better company than any of you.”

“Your...your mate?” Rhys repeated, his eyes widening.

Cassian gaped at Azriel. "Your mate? Why didn’t you tell us? Who is she?"

“Why should I tell you? ” Azriel gave back his voice icy. “I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #it’s a love story

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archangeldyke-all · 30 days ago

Note

Oh man I have ideas..

Sevika has a home back in Zaun but she has to have an apartment in Piltover because of councilor duties until she fully adjusts to topside and accepts the insistent offers of a manor. Imagine being her wife and just helping her relax after her first day, cuddling and all that whilst adjusting to the fancy apartment bigger than your old house.

Or..

Sevika taking her wife out for a walk in Piltover, admiring more of the garden as the plants grow upon new soil. A talk about the future whilst holding hands.

Or..

Them renewing their vows, having that damn fancy wedding of the dreams.

Toodles!!!

EEEEEEEEK okay lets do some councilor sevika (also isha and jinx are still alive in this story because i said so. she doesn't need to suffer so much to still be an incredible leader. give her her girls!!!)

men and minors dni

you were the first person approached about sevika representing zaun in piltover's new council post-war.

you were a little concerned to find councilwoman shoola and three members of her personal guard on your front stoop-- and for just a moment you had a flash of anxiety that she was here looking for jinx or isha.

"councilwoman. hello." you say, still surprised. you've met the woman a few times before, both of you attending various re-building efforts around the undercity. she holds up a hand.

"please, dear, we've built a bookshelf together, you've seen me at my lowest. you can call me shoola."

"h-how can i help you counc-- shoola?" you ask. she smiles.

"i'm here regarding your wife."

you frown. "...is she in some kind of trouble?" you ask, already mentally planning how to worm sevika out of her trouble. the councilwoman chuckles.

"quite the opposite, actually. i'd like her to join the council... as an ambassador to the free nation of zaun." she says.

you nearly shit yourself at her words-- sevika's life work casually mentioned like it's just a sidenote. "the-- free?" you ask.

she smiles. "while the deaths of the other councilmembers in the war was a horrible loss, there are some issues i could never get my late colleagues to agree on. now, though... i've been given full authority to reorient the power structure of the council to avoid anymore kirraman's taking over-- and i've always been of the belief that zaun should be free."

"and w-what... you want to arrest jinx in exchange for it?" you ask.

shoola chuckles. "no."

"y-you want isha?" you ask. shoola laughs again.

"what could i want with a child? no!"

"so... what do you want?" you ask, your voice shaking as the reality of the situation sinks in.

"i just want your help talking sevika into the job. i know she can be... stubbo--?"

"bullheaded?" you guess as shoola searches for a kind word to describe sevika's stubbornness. she chuckles at your description of your wife and nods.

"here." she hands you a stack of papers. "i've outlined the full responsibilities of the job. as well as the benefits she will receive for serving. please. look it over and talk to her, would you?"

you do.

it's an excellent proposal.

as the undercity figures out how it wants to self govern, piltover will fund zaun's public infrastructure as if it's their own-- meaning that the undercity will, practically overnight, have access to things like clean water. and schools. and welfare. they will provide these services for up to fifteen years as zaun finds it's footing.

the position outlined for sevika in piltover's council is a way to assure piltover doesn't back out of their promises-- that somebody is there to call them out when they try to cut corners in helping the young nation of zaun find it's footing.

and, while your wife might miss the more physical aspects of her old work, you can see her chewing out some stingy old councilors for their greed in your minds eye, and you can't help but smile.

"what're you smilin' about?" sevika asks.

you jump and slam the folder in front of you closed, blinking up at your wife.

she's back from her meeting with ran, scar and jericho. the four of them have grown close in these past few months as they coordinate rebuilding efforts for various neighborhoods across zaun. you have to gulp, trying not to get dizzy with the possibilities of what sevika's job offer means for them as a team. as team zaun.

"h-how was your meeting?" you ask. sevika raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you and you huff. she sinks across the table from you, easily pulling the folder out of your grasp.

"meeting was fine. the elementary school bein' built in firelight's territory is almost ready to open. first school in zaun." she says with a smile. "now, what were you smiling at?"

"i was approached by councilwoman shoola this afternoon."

sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "did you two try to build a chair this time?" she teases. you groan and kick her shin, before tapping the folder in her hands.

"no. i was asked to convince my stubborn-ass, incredibly loyal, strong, beautiful, hard-fucking-headed wife to join the fucking council."

sevika blinks. "what?"

"they want you in the new council. serving as an ambassador. to the free nation of zaun, sevika."

sevika blinks again, and then she rips the file open, her silver eyes flying across the confidential text. "the fr-- the free nation of zaun?" she asks, her eyes flying up to yours to confirm. you grin and nod.

sevika flies out of her seat and crawls across the dining room table to reach you, tears flowing down her cheeks as she kisses you like her life depends on it.

you're there when shoola and sevika finally sit down to discuss the opportunity. shoola's the first piltoverian to not turn her nose up at the messy state of your small home-- she even grins at the sound of jinx and isha bickering from their bedroom. "you two have made a lovely home for yourselves, here." she says, sitting down at the table and jumping a bit when a toy squeaks under her bum. "i can almost see the love leaking out of the wallpaper."

"could be black mold." you whisper. sevika and shoola both sputter surprised laughs.

"sevika. have you considered my proposal?" shoola asks.

sevika sighs and nods. "i have a few conditions before i agree." she says.

this surprises you. as if the prospect of representing a free zaun isn't tempting enough, you saw the salary sevika's being offered. it's the kind of money that could buy you a house big enough that all four of you could have your own bathrooms.

(secretly, though, you hope you live in a tiny house forever. you like tripping over your family-- being within reaching distance at all times.)

"first. i'd like you to assign me the budget to employ three of my trusted confidants as advisors. i can give you their identities if you'd like, but i give you my word that they're good peo--"

"done." shoola cuts sevika off, scribbling a quick note in her journal before looking back up at the pair of you with a smile. "what else?" she asks.

you smile a bit. sevika blinks, then gulps. "jinx and her little friend ekko get a full ride to the university up top. they're incredibly gifted, and with a little proper education they could advance zaun--"

"you don't have to convince me, i remember how the war went. without them, we'd all be dead. i can arrange that."

"i don't want to leave zaun. i can't represent these people if i'm not living here. i'll need a car to get--"

"would you like a personal vehicle or a driver each morning and evening?" shoola asks.

sevika blinks. "a-a driver." she says, a little shocked.

"anything else?" shoola asks.

sevika nods. "o-one last thing." she reaches over to grab your hand. you have no idea what she could possibly want beyond what she's asked for-- she's taken care of her friends, her family, and her transport.

"anything." shoola says. you think the woman might mean it.

sevika looks down at her lap and sighs. "we... we never really got married." she says. you blink, not at all understanding why she's telling the councilwoman this. "i mean... we had a party and we exchanged vows," she says, a smile tugging at her lips. you squeeze her hand and her eyes flick up to yours, before shyly darting away like you guys haven't been married for a decade now. like you guys don't have two kids together. "but we never... nobody gets married in zaun. 's expensive. the trip up to the justice is too far. and..." sevika gulps, her voice getting shaky as she looks back up at you. "and you're the reason i've fought so hard for our home in the first place." she whispers.

tears start to well up in your eyes and you let out a shaky laugh. "what, 're you proposing to me again?" you ask. sevika snorts and shakes her head before turning to shoola. the woman's drying her own tears.

"will you arrange to have us married? officially?"

"i'd be honored." shoola agrees.

the wedding is small and intimate, you and sevika, jinx and isha, vi, ran, scar, jericho, and shoola.

the councilwoman took you to a beautiful little garden a few blocks away from the council, and she married you, officially, as the sun set and your girls threw handfuls of confetti into the sky.

your whole party marches through the streets of piltover and back to zaun for the afterparty, councilwoman shoola laughing happily as you introduce her to the zaunite tradition of barcrawling.

each bar you enter, jericho happily announces that you and sevika have been freshly married. sevika, being the new spokeswoman of zaun, is quite the celebrity now. all of this is to say, you spend the night drinking many free drinks, hugging many drunk strangers, and kissing your wife on request about a thousand times.

it's the best night of your life.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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adieutristana · 1 month ago

Text

general relationship headcanons | arcane women x fem! reader

summary: general headcanons for dating arcane characters.

characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, maddie.

tags/warnings: fluff, mentions of poor mental health, smoking, drinking, mentions of war and death, minor season 2 spoilers. slightly suggestive? lots of fluff.

jinx;

✧.* you are without a doubt jinx's first partner. she has never really seen herself in a relationship, never thought that was in the cards for her. until you came along, of course.

✧.* it takes jinx a while to process the fact that you're in a relationship. that you want to be with her, and you enjoy her companionship. she's so used to being perceived as bad luck to everyone, and those close to her dying. so when it finally does set in that you truly do like her, she'll do everything in her power to show her love to you. part of her will always think you're too good for her, though.

✧.* jinx is a very devoted lover. she lives and breathes for you, she worships the ground you walk on. she's constantly checking in on you, touching you somehow, or talking your ear off simply because she enjoys your company.

✧.* however, jinx is also a very jealous lover and can get possessive. she doesn't necessarily mean to be that way, but it's her head telling her that you'll find someone better. that you're too good for her, and some other pretty girl will come sweep you off your feet. it'll take jinx a while to get used to your friends and not think that they're trying to plot how to steal you from her.

✧.* with this, jinx is fiercely protective over you. if you're out together and get hit on, or you rant to her about somebody who's been bothering you, she'll have it 'taken care of' within a matter of hours. she won't tell you what that means, but you won't see or hear from the person again.

✧.* jinx wants to involve you in her world! that's one of her biggest ways of showing her love to you. she'll pull up an extra chair so you can watch her or help her with her newest contraptions. she'll invite you to tag walls across zaun with her. she'll tell you about all of her battle plans, giggling all the way. as if she's not discussing something that could cost her her life.

✧.* overall, jinx is rather unconventional in a relationship (and in general) and shows affection through her own unique little ways.

✧.* "i wish i could crawl inside you and be with you forever.. that'd be nice. huh? why are ya looking at me like that?"

✧.* jinx is very touch-starved. although she is very resistant to physical touch at first, she quickly comes to love it. it's reassuring for her, being able to touch her partner. feel them. they're real, and they're not going anywhere.

✧.* jinx's favorite forms of physical affection are kissing, holding hands, and cuddling. there'll be times where you're in the middle of talking to her (usually about something important) and she'll stop you mid-sentence with a cheeky kiss.

✧.* "what? your lips are right there." she giggles.

✧.* when it comes to cuddling, jinx enjoys spooning, and laying her head on your chest. being able to hear your heartbeat is relaxing to her. although jinx is a small woman, she almost always insists on being the big spoon. she doesn't care if you're a head shorter than her or a full foot taller, she just wants to be able to hold you close.

✧.* jinx is incredibly playful. she'll play pranks on you, like coming up behind you to tickle your sides, or sneak glitter bombs into your bags when you're leaving her base. she loves to see your reactions, and she loves to keep you on your toes.

✧.* she loves to make little gifts for you. if you mention needing a new speaker, she's got you covered. the next day, she presents you with a small speaker, decorated in jinx's typical colorful grafitti. she'll make music boxes that play off-key versions of your favorite songs, and she'll doodle on basically everything you have. it's a way to show that she cares, and seeing your reactions make all of the work worth it.

✧.* jinx loves pda. she gets to both show off her wonderful girlfriend, and remind everyone that you belong to her. two birds with one stone.

✧.* you're one of the only people that jinx lets braid her hair. they say that hair holds memories, and for jinx, that is absolutely true. her hair is incredibly important to her, so you knew she trusted you when she let you braid it for the first time. she lets out a gentle sigh as she feels your nimble fingers working softly through her hair, and you can see her body fully relax. she's still and at peace for a few moments.

✧.* jinx is not good with words. at all. communication is one of her weakest traits, so you'll have to be patient with her. if she's upset, she'll usually just hold it in. she'll take off randomly, or end up holding it in until it bubbles over (and then she apologizes profusely). this gets better with time, but for a while, jinx doesn't know how to express her emotions or concerns in a healthy way.

✧.* jinx needs constant reassurance. as mentioned, she has a difficult time regulating her emotions. she's constantly overthinking, having nightmares, and hallucinating. those all decrease significantly while she's with you, but they never fully go away.

✧.* "you're not gonna take off in the middle of the night and find someone else, are you?" jinx asks, her pink eyes full of worry.

✧.* "no, love. i'm here to stay. i promise." you reassure her, pressing your forehead to hers gently.

✧.* jinx loves pet names. being called them, and calling you them. her favorites are 'toots,' 'trinket,' 'baby,' 'doll,' and 'beautiful.'

✧.* calling her anything with 'my' in front of it causes her to positively melt. 'my dearest,' 'my love,' 'my girl,' the whole nine yards. yes, remind her that she's yours.

vi;

✧.* vi is a generally rather inexperienced lover. while she's had the odd fling and situationship, you're likely one of her first actual girlfriends.

✧.* with this comes her being unsure about how to navigate a romantic relationship at first, but she quickly gets the hang of it. vi is a natural.

✧.* despite her tough exterior, vi is a lover girl at heart, and she's ecstatic that she finally gets someone to share that love with. someone as incredible and perfect as you.

✧.* tease, tease, tease. she'll constantly have you on edge, your eyes wide and cheeks heating up. whether that be by peppering light kisses on your neck while you're trying to work, or whispering into your ear something along the lines of, "you're so beautiful, darling. tell, just how do you do it?"

✧.* she's also very playful and competitive. vi is likely to challenge you to a playful sparring match, and she gets very into board games. girlfriend or not, she'll show no mercy.

✧.* vi reserves most of her affection for private moments. the farthest she'll go in front of other people is likely just holding your hand. she believes that the way she holds you, the way she whispers sweet nothings against your lips is nobody else's business.

✧.* that's not to say she won't brag about her beautiful, amazing, talented, smart, perfect girlfriend to anyone who will listen, though.

✧.* vi has a lot of walls up, and guards her emotions. although she'll likely open up to you eventually about her worries and past, it'll be very gradual, in small amounts. she isn't used to being vulnerable, especially not feeling safe to be vulnerable.

✧.* despite this, she does communicate well and values honesty and trust. she believes in cutting problems at the source. if something is bothering you, tell her. if you need something from her, tell her.

✧.* vi is very strong, and won't hesitate to lift you up while giggling. she'll lift you to sit you right back down on a countertop, snaking her arms around your waist to begin pressing soft kisses to your lips.

✧.* vi doesn't hesitate to let you know how important you are to her, to reassure you that she loves you more than anything.

✧.* "y'know, i spent all day thinking about you. waiting for when i could see your pretty face again. you have no idea how much you mean to me..."

✧.* it may come as a surprise, but vi is very much a morning person. she generally prefers to wake up by 6am, getting an early start to her day and brewing coffee as she watches the sunrise. it's a little bit of quiet time before all the chaos that comes with the day. it's not rare for you to wake up without vi, but if you walk into the kitchen and sit down beside her, she'll wordlessly lay her head on your shoulder.

✧.* vi constantly returns home bruised and sore. she'll be eternally grateful if you bandage her, and if you gently kiss her wounds after patching them up, she may just melt on the spot.

✧.* although, or because she's constantly injured, vi has a very high pain tolerance. she'll often undermine just how much discomfort she's in because she's just so used to it. muscle tension, cuts, scrapes. part of this is also vi not wanting to worry you.

✧.* vi loves acts of service. if you mention that you're overwhelmed by the amount of cleaning you have to do, you don't even have time to say anything before she's doing it for you. she'll try to cook for you, although she's far from great at it. the point is that she cares.

✧.* however, she doesn't really like receiving acts of service. part of her feels bad, and she feels like she owes you in return.

✧.* vi does tend to come home drunk from time to time, and the frequency increases when she's having a particularly tough time mentally. although it's not healthy, it's a temporary relief. she'll never get wasted, but you may have to help her sober up fairly often.

✧.* vi also adores pet names. her favorites are 'baby,' 'gorgeous,' and of course, 'cupcake.'

✧.* sorry, but i think you'd need to remind her to wash up. vi is pretty much always covered in some kind of sweat or grime, and genuinely just forgets to take a shower after a long day sometimes. she's tired.

✧.* it's no surprise that vi can get rough. her hands tangle in your hair, she squeezes your hips while kissing you, her lips slamming into yours as if her life depends on this moment right now.

✧.* "god, baby. you don't know how much i needed this."

mel;

✧.* mel is pretty experienced, but none of her past relationships have really lasted. mel is a woman who knows what she deserves and knows what she wants, and none of her previous suitors have fit the bill quite right. you find it hard to rationalize how you have.

✧.* if you're with mel, be prepared to fully commit to her. mel sees casual dating as a waste of time and energy, and wants nothing but complete devotion. she dates to marry.

✧.* as gentle as she is, she'll remind you of that often. don't waste her time, don't waste her energy, don't take her companionship for granted.

✧.* mel is a busy woman. as much as she wishes things could be different, she has a job to do and a city to stay loyal to. there may be days-long, or even weeks-long periods of you not being able to see each other.

✧.* however, she'll still find ways to show her love and devotion to you when you're not physically together. it's not uncommon for you to get deliveries of extravagant, expensive bouquets to your workplace and/or home. complete with a note that reads something along the lines of, "i miss you most ardently, dearest. don't forget me, i'll be with you soon."

✧.* mel spoils you to absolutely no end. she's the richest woman in all of piltover, why wouldn't she? if your eyes even linger on something at a shop for a few seconds, or you mention needing something in passing, it's immediately yours. no ifs, ands, or buts.

✧.* mel has zero problems communicating how she feels with you, and expects the same from you. unfortunately, if you're unable to express yourself through words like she is, she becomes a bit upset. reassure her that you're trying, and she'll have patience.

✧.* naturally, she also has no problems having uncomfortable conversations with you. that's a major part of her job, after all: having uncomfortable conversations. usually it's something about an unfavorable decision the council had to make, or something weighing heavy on her mind about your relationship. mel wants to talk it over and be done with it.

✧.* mel loves nighttime. it's probably the only time she gets to herself, so she'll cuddle up to you in bed, pressing soft kisses to your temples and whispering her adoration. "you're so, so beautiful. so perfect. so lovely. everything that i need."

✧.* mel smells heavenly. she has an extensive skincare and hair care routine that she stays on top of. think warm vanilla and honey.

✧.* mel is also, in general, very calm and soft-spoken. it takes a lot to get her worked up enough to raise her voice or lose her composure outside of council meetings.

✧.* mel loves kissing. kissing, kissing, kissing. kissing your knuckles when she hasn't seen you in a few days. her lips capturing yours almost desperately while one hand cradles the back of your head, the other placed on your waist. kissing your neck lazily in the mornings while you're both still half-asleep.

✧.* naturally, with her position comes a great amount of power. you have mel's protection from anything or anyone that could put you in harm's way.

✧.* easily one of the most supportive partners you can ever have. she'll let you ramble on and on about your interests, support your newest ventures, and financially support you when possible. ultimately, mel just wants to see you happy. she honestly thinks there isn't a thing you can't do.

✧.* she tries not to let it show, but mel does get jealous. very, very jealous. you're hers, what are you doing going around piltover with unsavory characters? she'll clench her fists by her side, trying not to let her envy show on her face.

✧.* "darling. i thought i told you not to be in these parts of the city." she says, her expression completely stern.

✧.* mel values knowledge. she's constantly trying to learn new things, partly to feel enriched, and partly for her job. it's not uncommon for her to curl up in your lap with a recently-published book about current happenings, or ancient history that could assist her decision-making.

✧.* mel writes you letters very often. expect at least 6-page long letters, on paper lined in gold leaf with the neatest penmanship you've seen in your lifetime. she pours out her heart to you in each letter, telling you her deepest joys and fears both. she signs each letter with a kiss, her lipstick lingering on the bottom of the page.

✧.* mel absolutely refuses to engange in any kind of pda. not only does she find it unbecoming of a woman in her position, but she becomes flustered quickly. it's adorable, honestly.

✧.* however, whenever the two of you are alone, she's entirely yours. body and soul.

sevika;

✧.* sevika is very experienced, to the surprise of absolutely nobody. she's a regular at local brothels, and knows her way around relationships. she preferred to only ever have casual relationships, or so she thought.

✧.* once she's yours, she's yours. sevika completely stops going to brothels and entertaining other women. she is fiercely loyal to you, her devotion never wavering.

✧.* sevika is incredibly touchy. she always has to be touching you somehow. whether that be a hand firmly gripping your waist, her chin resting on your shoulder, or her thigh touching yours. it brings her a sense of security.

✧.* sevika is very strong and heavy-handed. there's no chance of her not accidentally leaving bruises on you by just grasping your arm, or pulling you in for a hug after a particularly dangerous mission. she apologizes profusely, swearing she didn't mean to hurt you, no matter how much you tell her it's okay.

✧.* she does learn to be more gentle over time, she's just not used to handling someone in an affectionate way. battle has toughened her.

✧.* she won't dare admit it, but you bring out the softie in her. she'll grumble as you lay your head in her lap, reaching up to interlace your fingers with hers. don't mention the way her heartbeat audibly quickens, she'll deny it until she can't anymore.

✧.* "i am not flustered. cut that out." "oh, but you're so cute like this!"

✧.* sevika loves pet names and nicknames as well, but also won't dare admit that. she particularly loves it when you call her 'sev.'

✧.* in return, she'll call you 'my pretty girl,' 'darlin', 'hun,' and 'babe.' the classics, nothing too fancy.

✧.* sevika doesn't have a lot of energy these days, as she gets older and battle takes more and more out of her. so those tranquil moments where she simply gets to lay with you, kissing the corner of your lips and whispering praises to you are some of her favorite. give this poor woman a break, please.

✧.* it takes sevika forever to open up to you. it already took her ages to admit that she had romantic feelings for you, so don't expect her to easily voice her feelings or worries.

✧.* even when you can tell something is wrong, she'll almost always brush it off. "don't worry 'bout it, babe. i'll be fine."

✧.* until she's not, and all she wants is for you to hold her. she'll simply slot herself in your arms and rest her head on your shoulder, embracing you in comfortable silence. yes, that's enough for now.

✧.* while she's not really one for pda, sevika will absolutely show you off to anyone and everyone, regardless of whether they want to pay attention. she totes you around like you're a prize- her pretty girl, who everyone can look at, but only she can have.

✧.* sevika doesn't really get jealous. she trusts you, and she trusts that you know exactly who you belong to. she doesn't mind you hanging out with your friends or even exes for prolonged periods of time, you know where home is.

✧.* she is very possessive, though. she trusts that you'll stay in line, but god help you if you ever let a hug with a friend linger for too long.

✧.* once sevika does open up to you, it's like an entirely different woman. she's telling you how grateful she is for you, how she never imagined she'd know a love like this.

✧.* "i never thought i'd... deserve something like this, you know? but you get me. you see me."

✧.* you're probably the one who cut her hair. she just decided she was tired of it, and came up to you with a pair of haircutting scissors, not saying anything. you were a bit hesitant, unsure if this was an impulsive decision or what she really wanted. but you were happy to help.

✧.* sevika loves to just... admire you. you're so beautiful, she can't help it. but tell her she's beautiful, too. she hasn't heard it nearly enough in her life.

✧.* she often comes home smelling of smoke, but as time (s2) goes on, that stops. she decided her health was more important, even if she couldn't undo the damage of years of smoking. you helped her come to this decision, although unconsciously.

maddie;

✧.* maddie has only really had flings and friends-with-benefits situations in the past. you're her first actual girlfriend, but she's determined to be the best girlfriend you could possibly ask for.

✧.* maddie looks like a total sweetheart. and she is, to an extent, but looks can be deceiving.

✧.* maddie is nothing if not a tease. she'll blow cold air on the back of your neck just to hear you yelp, she'll stop short just before kissing you to tell you something completely stupid and unrelated. she loves seeing your reactions, she thinks they're adorable.

✧.* "and then commander said that i needed to adjust my posture, it was unfit for an officer. i mean, can you believe- oh, you wanted a kiss? sorry, i didn't realize!"

✧.* maddie is very protective, and very confrontational. especially when it comes to you. if someone is making you uncomfortable, she'll get right in their face and tell them off then and there, her usual peppy voice dropping an octave.

✧.* maddie is pretty good at expressing her feelings and communicating, but doesn't really make it a point to do so. it comes up when it comes up. she mentions how she's feeling in passing.

✧.* overall, she's pretty unpredictable. she likes to keep you guessing when it comes to your relationship.

✧.* of course, maddie's loyalty is unmatched. she knows a thing or two about devotion as a junior officer, but when it comes to her dearest girl, she'll genuinely lay her life down before she ever thinks of leaving you.

✧.* maddie is a busy woman, but will make time for you, no matter what. even if that means showing up at your door disheveled and tired right before midnight, not seeming to care about how tired you look.

✧.* quality time is incredibly important to maddie. time is money for her, as is for piltover, and she intends to give you the most time she can. she'll often drag you along on walks along the city, talking your ear off about whatever adventures she was up to in the hours previous.

✧.* i'm not sure why, but i think that maddie would really enjoy reading. she'd curl up next to you, your arm draped around her as she softly reads aloud from the novel in her hand. it's peaceful, the way her voice is so quiet and she yawns every few sentences.

✧.* maddie cuts her own hair, undoubtedly. with dull scissors. she employs your help, though, in making sure that it's all even and looks presentable.

✧.* "come on, i don't need anything else. these scissors work fine, y'see?"

✧.* probably one of the most chaotic sleepers. she hogs the blankets, elbows you in her sleep, and snores, loud. she'll apologize while giggling in the morning, but something tells you she's not actually that sorry. it just adds to her charm.

✧.* she does love to hold you, though. she'll tuck your head into the crook of her neck, one hand through your hair and the other on the small of your back. no words uttered, no words needed.

✧.* loves pda. she won't miss a chance to show off her beloved, and cover her pretty face in kisses in front of all of piltover if she gets the chance. you're hers, aren't you? that's something to be proud of!

✧.* maddie knows piltover like the back of her hand. she often takes you to her favorite spots, 'hidden gems,' as she calls them. she'll tell you all about the history of the specific place, all while holding your hand and clinging tightly to you.

#arcane x reader #arcane x you #imagines #jinx x reader #maddie nolen x reader #vi x reader #mel medarda x reader #sevika x reader #reader insert #sapphic

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emilys-bangs · 3 months ago

Note

The last thing you reblogged gave me an idea !

Touch starved Emily who is friends with you but would never dare ask you for unnecessary hugs etc., you two are close but she doesn’t want to cross that bridge since she definitely likes you a lot more than just a friend and also she’s scared of being so open and vulnerable that she admits she needs a hug and a cuddle.

You two are on a case once again, end up rooming together and there’s only one bed. You both don't really mind and go to sleep, each one on their respective side of the bed - except when you wake up in the middle of the night, Emily is cuddled around you, having subconsciously seeked your touch while she’s asleep.

You can decide how to go from there if this idea is any good to you, no worries if not and I hope you have a great week 😘😘

Tysm for requesting, I hope you have a great week as well! I sincerely thank that one post about touch starved Emily that made us all go insane <3

----

midas touch | e.p

Tags: touch starved Emily, room sharing, bed sharing, fluff, a ridiculous amount of yearning

Word count: 2.5k

You’d have to be blind not to notice Emily’s affinity for touch.

It’s something you’ve picked up on after a mere week in the BAU, and honestly, you’ve never seen anything like it. It’s like she craves touch, physically needs the added comfort of hands wrapping around elbows, arms slung across shoulders and casual side-hugs. In the more lax confines of Rossi’s living room or o’keefe’s, it’s not unusual to see her wrapped around somebody, or at least closely sharing what’s meant to be personal space.

At work, however, it’s different; a bit more subtle, but still palpably flowing with love—the way she sneaks behind Garcia’s chair and wraps her arms around her neck in hello, Emily’s cheek pressing against the analyst’s. How she runs her fingers through Spencer’s messy curls, and how—despite his protests—he lets her, almost imperceptibly leaning into her hand before she pulls away. Her hip is frequently attached to JJ’s, their temples touching as she slides her palm into the back pocket of JJ’s jeans. Rossi is given paternal kisses on the cheek, Morgan dragged around with his hand in hers, their fingers interlocking in a weave of pale and dark. Even Hotch gets his fair share of physical affection from her, though more subtle but no less loving; a tugging at his belt loops, a nimble fixing of his tie, the brush of her fingers along his elbow.

Everyone gets a piece of Emily’s attention.

Everyone except you.

It upsets you in ways you can’t fully explain—at least not without admitting to yourself that you’re falling deeply and helplessly in love with her. None of it remotely makes sense; despite her very deliberately withholding her touch from you, she’s been nothing but lovely, always having your back and gently correcting you when you slip up.

But still, when an overbooked hotel forces Hotch to relay the unfortunate news of doubling up and she turns to you, surprise renders you silent.

“Me and you?” Emily asks, paying no mind to JJ next to her.

You speak through your dry throat, “Um—yeah, sure.”

Hotch places the key in your hand, glad to have one pair down. You dig it into the flesh of your palm.

“I’ll take that one, thank you.” Rossi plucks a key from Hotch’s hand and turns away, leisurely walking to the elevator as protests rise behind him.

Hotch shakes his head, exasperated. You almost feel sorry for him. “Morgan?” He says, looking at him. Morgan nods, which leaves JJ with Reid.

Reid looks pleased; JJ less so, but she doesn’t protest as she takes the key from Hotch.

“Aww, good luck, pretty girl.” Emily coos, cupping JJ’s cheek and tapping it playfully. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, hot and acidic as JJ shrugs off her hand with an eye roll, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

The key is in your hand so you turn on your heel, a bad taste in your mouth as Reid starts to protest, the sound getting lost somewhere between Emily’s soft laughs.

She knows them longer than she knows you, you think as you take the stairs two at a time, trying to outrun the beating of your heart. Your somewhat blurry eyes pick out the door with the matching number on your key. Your legs take you to it, almost on autopilot.

“Hey, wait up,” Emily’s voice carries, reaching you in a cloud of spun silk. There’s a rush of air behind you and you feel her creeping over your shoulder, the scent of her perfume choking you sweetly. “You don’t want me to sleep in the hall, do you?”

You can’t bring yourself to rise to the teasing in her voice. Fitting the key in the lock with unsteady fingers, you mumble, “Would’a let you in if you’d knocked.”

But trying to keep your distance doesn’t work, because the one bed in the room glares at you as soon as you push the door open.

Your throat goes dry.

Emily hovers impatiently at your back and you swallow as you take a step into the threshold of the room, wondering how the hell she’d share a bed with you when she seems reluctant to touch you in the first place.

Panicked, you take your bag and head into the bathroom before Emily can say anything, desperately needing a moment to compose yourself. It’s safe to say you spend more time in there than you usually would, lengthening your short routine to busy yourself.

Only when you’ve semi-calmed down do you go out, finding her perched on the edge of the large—king sized, at least—bed.

“Hey. Are you okay with this?” Emily’s eyes are wide and dark, shining with concern.

There’s no place for you to sleep anyway if you said no, but somehow you get the feeling she’d make it work if you were uncomfortable. A confused rush of emotion runs hot under your skin; lingering jealousy and ever present bitterness and confusing pleasure at her concern.

God, you need to go to bed.

“I’m fine with it,” you force a smile. It must not be very convincing, because Emily frowns, a delicate pull drawing her brows together. Just before she says something, you speak. “Are you okay with it?”

That snaps her out of it. “Yeah,” Emily murmurs, a dimple winking at you as she gives you a small smile, “as long as you don’t kick.”

You didn’t expect her to agree so easily. Some part of you wonders if she’s lying, but you can’t look at her eyes long enough to decipher that—you’re mildly afraid if you sunk into their depths you’d never be able to claw your way out.

“I haven’t had any complaints,” you try to shrug casually. “Do you prefer a side?”

“No, go ahead. It doesn’t matter what side I sleep on, I always somehow find my way in the middle.”

That makes you crack a smile.

The bathroom door clicks shut behind her and you press your knuckles into your eyes, wondering if you can possibly get through this night without losing your already delicate composure.

It’s just a bed, you tell yourself as you take out a pair of sweatpants to serve as pajamas. And it’s just for one night. It’s fine.

It’s fine. Sure it is.

You’re already in bed and beneath the sheets when Emily walks out of the bathroom. It’s a mistake to look at her, because you think you’ve just fallen deeper in love.

She’s shaking her hair out from the confines of its ponytail and it falls in soft waves around her shoulders, curling at the ends where the water sprayed it. A cotton tank top gently hugs her body, and pale blue shorts skim the tops of her thighs.

She’s not wearing a bra.

You’re staring.

“Sorry, I wasn’t expecting to share tonight,” Emily smiles sheepishly as she lifts the covers and climbs into the bed. A lump is lodged in your throat at the sight of her bare legs slipping through the sheets, shimmering softly from her lotion. It smells sweet, she smells sweet—like warm cocoa butter—and it takes everything in you not to inhale deeply like a creep.

“Neither was I.” You croak. Emily settles her head on her pillow and you try not to stare at her lashes, so naturally long and thick even without her usual mascara.

She’s literally going to be the death of you.

“G’night,” you mumble and turn away before she can answer. The heat in your cheeks burns, and you dig them into the pillow in hopes of cooling them down.

“Night,” Emily whispers back. The sheets rustle as she presumably turns, too.

Needless to say, it takes a while for you to fall asleep.

It must happen at some point, though, because something wakes you. You open your eyes to the darkness of the room, unsure what it is. You just know that you’re abnormally warm and trapped beneath something smelling like cocoa butter.

Emily.

Your sluggish brain slowly puts the pieces together. Her arm is around your neck, cutting across your chest; her thigh is hitched over your hip. Cold fingertips are hooked into the collar of your t-shirt and you shiver despite the warmth of your own body. Slow breaths puff across your neck, warm and even.

Briefly, you think you’re dreaming, but just as quickly that thought dissipates. She’s too real, too warm—and anyway your imagination could never come up with something as divine as this.

You’re not completely innocent either. Your arm is hooked around her waist, your skin directly touching the warm skin of her waist. Her tank top has risen up and your blurry eyes catch a tattoo on her hipbone; a faded butterfly.

You should let her go.

It’s an internal battle, because she fits there, perfectly, and even though you know it’s wrong, you close your eyes and continue holding her.

It’s wrong, it’s so wrong. She doesn’t want your touch. She’s made that perfectly clear, but her warm body, the soft tickle of her hair, they cloud your senses, fog your brain and hide all traces of reason or sensibility.

But still, half asleep or not, you can’t betray her trust like this.

You’re just about to force yourself to let go when Emily snuggles closer, a long sigh escaping through her nose. Her lashes tickle your skin, wispy and light across your neck as she nestles into your collarbone.

Fuck.

You hold still and wait for her to move again. She doesn’t, other than the steady rise and fall of her chest, so you close your eyes too. You would’ve thought it would be difficult to fall asleep with almost every inch of her body touching every inch of yours, but you’re encompassed in warmth and softness and the scent of cocoa butter.

Really, it only takes a minute before you’re asleep again.

———

She’s still in your arms when you wake up. Your alarm didn’t ring yet—it must’ve been a combination of Emily’s warmth and your internal clock that woke you up.

Her head is now on your pillow, one of her knees slotted between yours and her arm around your waist. She’s like a clingy koala, even in her sleep, and it only makes your heart ache.

Through the blurriness in your vision you see the small freckles that dot her cheeks. They’re tiny, almost unnoticeable, scattered over the bridge of her nose and under her swooping lashes. Her fingers tighten in your shirt and again the guilt surfaces, but it’s so slow to rise in the pale morning light, when you’re sluggish with sleep.

Emily’s eyes flutter open.

Shit, you freeze, your muscles stiffening.

You’re caught.

Suddenly you’re staring into dark chips of obsidian, clouds of sleep swirling through them. At first Emily gives no reaction, but then her brain evidently catches up and her eyes widen, her fingers letting go of your shirt.

Just before you apologize, she does.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts. Her voice is raspy and you fight the shiver before it travels down your spine. “I get really—”

“Clingy,” you mumble. “Yeah, I know. It’s obvious.” Your voice is soft, mainly because you’re too tired to fight with your own demons so early in the morning.

“I’m really sorry,” Emily whispers again, mortified. Her cheeks flush a pretty pink as she retracts her arm and her leg, curling back into her side of the bed. The sheets she leaves behind are warm, and you fight the urge to place your hand where she once was.

“S’okay. You do it with everyone, I know that.” Then, because it’s the morning and your brain is half asleep and still fogged from holding her, you ask, “Why not with me, though?”

Her teeth chew down on her lip. “Why not with you, what?” She mumbles.

“Emily,” you sigh, “it’s too early for you to mess with my head. You know what.”

Emily gives a sigh of her own. She doesn’t look at you as she fiddles with the hem of her tank top and drags it back down, hiding the exposed sliver of her torso. It doesn’t help that your eyes follow her movements, because her shorts have ridden up her thighs.

“It means…more when it’s you.” She eventually says, her voice quiet. Your breath hitches and she continues looking down, frowning at the hem of her tank top. “Everything does. Can’t touch you like that and pretend it means nothing.”

The slight slur to her voice makes her confession all the more intimate. As does her bed head, the red sleep lines on the underside of her arm. This is a soft Emily, a vulnerable one, and she’s laying herself bare for you in the morning light while sleep still lingers in both your eyes.

It only confirms your love for her.

Your relief is palpable; it quickly shifts to affection, something flowery crowding the back of your throat and making it hard to swallow. She doesn’t hate you, she doesn’t think you’re disgusting or repulsive.

She couldn’t touch you because it would give her away. Because it’s the most genuine aspect of her, one she can’t dampen or hide any more than she can stop her heart from beating.

It seems almost too big a revelation for this small hotel room bathed in morning light. Still, your hand reaches for hers. You wrap your fingers around her own, both of them now resting gently on her stomach.

“It doesn’t have to mean nothing.” You whisper.

Emily’s eyes snap to yours. They’re like the black, bitter coffee you have no choice but knock back in precincts all over the country. They make your heart race, because they come closer—she comes closer—until both your heads are resting on the same pillow again. Emily cups your joint hands with her free one, reverently protecting the tenderness of your touch.

“You’re…” Her breath hitches and she falters, then sucks in a breath, “You’re telling me you want this?”

You squeeze her fingers. “More than anything.”

Emily blows out a low sigh. You bring your free hand up to trace the curve of her brow; she leans into it. “I do, too.” She confesses. “More than anything.”

Your thumb travels down to the corner of her mouth. “Then there’s nothing stopping us. Is there?” You ask gently.

“No.” Emily sighs. “Nothing.”

She tilts her head, lets you continue exploring her face with your fingertips. Her features are gently traced; the bridge of her nose and the outline of her lips and the shape of her brows. Slowly, her knee worms its way between both of yours.

You smile and Emily smiles back, a shy dimple in her cheek.

“Be clingy. With me,” you murmur, keeping your voice low because you’re afraid love already spills from it, “I want you to be.”

Her nose nuzzles into your cheek. “You’ll soon regret saying that.” Emily mumbles, the vibration of her voice reverberating through your skin. It fills you with strange peace.

“Never.” You whisper.

Until the alarm rings, the two of you spend your time erasing away the boundaries, learning the lines of each other’s bodies with your fingertips with slow confidence.

Because now, you have all the time in the world.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss blurb #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #fic

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celestialtarot11 · 3 months ago

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Their naughty thoughts of you 🐚🙊

I most definitely am not apologizing for making this post 😤we all get a lil freaky sometimes. Anyway hope ya’ll enjoy! Feel free to like comment and reblog. 18+

divider creds: @fairytopea

Pile 1: Welcome my little friend 😈 anyway ya’ll this is cute. My fluffy and sweet pile. They wanna see you self pleasure and you probably smell really good, so they really like that. They wanna see you dripped out in lingerie, or anything that makes you feel confident and just touch yourself in front of them. There’s something about that fantasy that gets them going. And they also fantasize about cuddling you, definitely have a praise kink 🙊 I am calling this person out—they’re like a teddy bear in bed and they do wanna be close to you as physically as they can. This person would romance you first 😮‍💨 and then get dirty. They care about feelings soo, booty call with feelings kinda vibe 🥺 and they also won’t hesitate to give you water whilst they’re doing you, like “hey you need some of this?” 😭 helpp. They’re funny too. I feel like even in bed they fantasize about awkward cute moments between ya’ll. This is making me gush they are cute lol. Yall could never dating or haven’t done sexual stuff yet, but they definitely think about owning your heart first and worshipping you as you are! They’d take their time and kiss everywhere and make sure you’re all comfortable in bed or where else ya’ll prefer doing the dirty 😭 I also feel like they fantasize about making you cry their name and have you be an emotional mess (in a good way) from all the pleasure. Whoo. Pile 1. There you have it 👀 a lil something spicy. Hope yall enjoyed and feel free to like comment and reblog 🤍

Pile 2: My god pile 2 is it me or is the tension hot on both sides 😭 the person you’re asking about and you. I feel like both of yall have such strong vivid imaginations and wild ideas. I heard it goes both ways, so its not one person if you need confirmation. I feel like your person idolizes you, I heard maneater so they definitely see you as someone to worship. And not just anyone but a divine being. I feel like they wanna do everything right by you—even if it means being submissive to you. They’d fall to their knees for you 😤 this is the kinda energy they’re bringing!! And we’re not complaining 🥺 love to see it. I feel they fantasize about kissing messily, grabbing each other up and pressing everywhere. And fingering, lots of exploring. They wanna feel all the juices everywhere. And I think they fantasize about blowjobs, or at least having their fluids in your mouth. They just want to see the visual of it and replay it over and over. They fantasize about sitting in a chair whilst your between their legs, and they succumb to your touch. Like you’re just their devouring them and they have no choice but to take it 😭 maneater vibes fr. And I also feel like they’re kinda shy about their fantasies which makes it cuter but they want it. They want it to happen. I think they hide it a lot from you and put on a stoic face but deep down they cant ignore their freak!! Their freak is calling them 😩 “is somebody gonna match my freak” help. Its playing in my head 😭 anyway pile 2 yall get a room and get it on or something, hope yall liked this. Feel free to like and comment and reblog 🥰

Pile 3: hey guys, what is this? Damsel in distress fantasy? 😭 guys I feel like your person has a fantasy where you come running to them and you just want in on their world. Like consumed by all their pleasure and wanting only them. Its giving they want you to be hooked and obsessed on their energy, and the way they do you. They want you coming back for more. I have no idea if anyone here is into threesomes—someone here likes that. Also getting high or drinking alcohol might be something they fantasize about. It’s also giving daddy kink like ddlg, I picked up on. I heard pet play too. Im not judging just writing whatever spirit is telling me ☕️ I feel like they dream about you joining their sex filled world. Like this person could be experienced and they fantasize about showing you all the things they know and teaching you—and its like this thing where they help you reach your release because they know your body. They know where to touch and please you. I don’t know if some of yall never had sex before, but I’m picking that vibe too. I feel like this person is possessive of you in bed and only wants your attention on them. They want you completely focused on them. Geez this is intense! 😮‍💨 it’s giving Scorpio and strong mars energy. Maybe they have a lot of mars aspects or placement in their chart. But either way—they have lots of stamina. Strong bdsm vibes. And they want to spend lots of time doing foreplay to draw it out before finally giving in. Only when you’re comfortable. Like I see a feather being trailed down your spine and teasing you—this person KNOWS. Anyway yall, be safe always & at your discretion, have fun 😈 hope yall liked! Feel free to like comment and reblog to help this blog grow.

Thank yall sm for reading! Definitely bringing in that nsfw vibe 😈 hope yall enjoyed the freakiness. 18+ only 👀

Extra 🤍

Paid readings 🤍

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yummymitzy · 3 months ago

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By your side

Summary: Who knew that nightmares could lead to a night of cuddles?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

WC: 2,473

A/N: I wrote this when I was high off my ass😭

————♡————

Natasha found herself to be incredibly independent and she maintained her routine well. But she noticed that ever since the day you got settled in the compound, she grew more and more distracted. And apparently she wasn’t the only one who took notice.

She couldn’t help it, every time you passed by her, she always felt her heart rate increase as a sudden warmth encases her body. She always wondered what it was she felt about you, it was hard to distinguish.

Natasha hated that you had that effect on her, she didn’t know what was going on, she never felt this way before. She hated the fact that her heart yearned for you when you got sent on missions, and she hated she would do anything to have your smile directed towards her.

It took Natasha weeks to finally distinguish the feeling as love, but the denial built up. Love was for children, so why was this feeling so overbearing? The butterflies that fluttered in her stomach whenever she heard your laugh across the room, she’d always wish it was because of her.

————♡————

It was a late night in the compound, the soft moonlight shining through the windows. Natasha was perched on one of the kitchen stools, her head rested in between her hands while she was deep in thought.

She was a night owl, it wasn’t something she always liked but it brought her some peace. The nightmares she had were practically burned into her eyelids every time she closed her eyes.

That was definitely the not peaceful part of being a night owl, but other than that, she loved staring out into the night. It brought her a sense of comfort as the sounds of the city echoed in her ears, the lights of buildings far too bright but still beautiful.

But this wasn’t one of those nights, Natasha didn’t know what changed. It was another terrible experience that the red room had brought her, other than being on the table for her graduation ceremony.

The graduation ceremony was an experience that Natasha prepared herself to talk about, knowing well enough that it had to be brung up soon. And it did, with Bruce.

But this memory, it was just inexplicable. She felt like the words were just getting stuck in her throat before they even came close to being vocalized. Not that she couldn’t explain it, but she couldn’t express it.

Sighing, Natasha dropped one of her hands onto the cold countertop, her warm skin screaming in relief once it came in contact with it. Her finger tips tracing the marble lines with a soft touch.

The half glass of water beside Natasha was completely forgotten as she was practically drowning in her head. Her mind slowly drifted to you, was she ever going to confess to you?

Hell, would you even want to start something with somebody like her? She was closed off with many barriers, and yet you managed to break them all down without even realizing it. You quickly grew her trust possibly ten times faster than Clint, and he was the first one she ever opened up to!

Natasha loved how you were just so kind, you were like a puppy who just got adopted. You always blew her breath away whenever you’d be the first to greet her, or when you’d silently hand her a plate of food whenever you cooked for yourself.

She wondered if that was all casual, it was just you being friendly, right? There was no way you reciprocated those feelings, you were nice to everybody, you just didn’t to leave her out? Natasha honestly prayed for that to not be the case.

She sighed once more as her other hand fell from her cheek, her head slumping slightly as a wave of exhaustion flew through her. She desperately needed sleep, but she couldn’t bare the thought of another nightmare, especially when the images were still deeply engraved in her head.

Natasha’s throat felt dry and scratchy as it felt like she had been munching on saltine crackers. Her eyes slowly drifted towards the glass of water before she reached out to it. As she was drinking the remains of the liquid, the sound of the floorboards creaking with light footsteps echoed the hall, making her ears perk up. Who else would be up at this ungodly hour?

Her eyes narrowed, trying to make out the dark figure that was approaching the area where she sat. The darkness making it especially harder for her when the only source of light was the slight glow of moonlight shining through one of the many windows.

Natasha quietly set down the now empty glass on the counter, her mind screaming at her to stand up or do something. But her body didn’t make a move to stand up. Her eyes were trained towards the hallway as she waited for the figure to finally step into the soft glow of the night.

It was you. Every fibre of her being froze as her breath hitched, the sight of you as the moonlight kissed your face, enhancing your features.

She quickly averted her gaze and looked down at her fingers which were still tracing the streaks of grey that splayed across the counter.

Natasha came to the assumption that you hadn’t caught sight of her yet, as she listened to your footsteps trail past her to the cabinets that held all the glass cups. Soon enough, she heard the ringing of glass cups and water being poured into it.

Her verdant eyes slowly lifted from her fingers, before placing her sights on you. Slowly traveling up your figure from behind, huffing a quiet laugh at your choice of pajamas.

As she was still gazing at you, Natasha slightly shifted in her seat. The quiet noise catching your attention, as your head shot up from your full glass of water before your lips even touched the rim.

Natasha’s eyes widened a fraction before she instantly eased up. She watched as your eyes flicker around the area around you both, before they landed on her, and she swears she saw them soften at the sight of her.

“Nat?” Your voice hushed into a gentle whisper, afraid that if you spoke any louder that you would alarm her. “What’re you doing awake?”

“I could say the same about you.” She dodged, her head tilting to the left as her tone held a playful manner.

“I was just honestly craving for some cold water. But what about you, Nat? You look really…” You paused as you pursed your lips in thought, afraid of offending the Russian woman sat in front of you.

“Exhausted. Especially when I clearly see that the glass in front of you is dry, water is long gone. How long have you been up?”

Your tone voices out your concern as your feet absentmindedly leads you to sit in the stool next to Natasha, your knees brushing together as you could feel the heat radiating off of her.

“Not long.” The words flying out of her mouth almost immediately. The action making you furrow your eyebrows as you turn your head to peer at her side profile.

She was gorgeous, even in the dead of night, hell it made her stand out even more. The moonlight blending in with her scarlet hair, making it into a more beautiful hue. Her cute button nose and her raised cheekbones kissed under the moon.

“Mmm.. You know you could talk to me right, Nat?”

The nickname made Natasha’s heart leap, it sounded so good when you said it, she yearned to hear more of it. Processing your words, she let out a soft sigh, her gaze floating away from her pale skin as she stared ahead of her.

“Yeah. Its just..” She drifted off, a blank look on her face as she stared into nothing. Your face contorted in concern on the other hand, your hand hovering over her shoulder before placing it, thumb rubbing tiny circles.

Natasha let out a breath, whatever it was that she was thinking about, you knew it was definitely personal. “You don’t have to talk about it right now, Nat.”

You had an idea what it could be about though, especially with the distant look you could recognize anywhere in her jade eyes. A nightmare, or at least that’s what you assume it is.

There was a few minutes of comforting silence between the two of you, all you could hear was Natasha’s slightly labored breaths and the sound of your own heart beating in your ears.

“I have nightmares too,” Natashas head snapped towards your direction, her eyes still holding the blank look but a hint of curiosity. She wondered where you were going with this. “I never overcame them. There’s some days where they just packed a harder punch, and other days they just seem to quiet down. But they never left.”

Natasha stayed quiet, soaking in your words as she tries to understand the point you’re trying to make.

“I know you have them too, and I don’t want to push it with you and make you tell me what’s going on. That would just make me feel like a jerk.”

The hand on Natasha’s shoulder felt heavier, she didn’t know if it was you or because she had just realized how comforting your touch was.

“I just want to let you know that you could always come to me. Even if it would be in the dead of night or not, my room will always be open to you. I deeply care about you, Nat.”

Tears slowly welled up in Natasha’s eyes as her gaze met yours, her eyes glittering with tears making the green in her eyes pop.

You take the chance and examine her features once more, the tip of her nose starting to flush a subtle pink along with her cheeks.

The both of you bask in the silence once more, her eyes moving past yours to stare at your necklace, feeling overwhelmed by your gaze. You understood her, probably too much, it was always hard having to get over a nightmare you had moments prior.

You waited a few moments more before slowly reaching your hand away from her shoulder to her other one, pulling her into a soft embrace.

Your arms gently encasing her firmly, but not firm enough to where she feels suffocated. Feeling her shoulders slump and her breathing starting to even out, you rest your head above hers, feeling her breath hit the skin of your neck.

One of your hands reached up towards her hair, combing through her red locks, from her scalp to her ends. You stayed like this until you feel Natasha’s body slump into yours with dead weight.

Sneaking a glance at her face, you finally noticed she was asleep. She looked so graceful when she slept, as if she never had any worries to begin with. You wondered if you’d ever get the opportunity to ask her out. Taking a deep breath, you reached under her, before lifting her up bridal style, taking her back to her room.

————♡————

You were exhausted, every limb of your body was screaming for you to just jump into your bed. You and Tony managed to save the mission before it failed, but tons of HYDRA agents jumped the both of you in return.

Finally stripped of your bloody suit, you limped your way to your bed. With each step you took, the drowsiness started becoming more overwhelming.

You fought to keep your eyes open as you draped the comforter over yourself, your body immediately relaxing from its tensed state as you laid sprawled out on your back.

It didn’t take long for your eyes to slowly shut and your breathing eventually evening out. Before you knew it, you were asleep.

But there was still a part of you that was conscious, even through all the exhaustion. You soon heard your door creak open and close with a small sound of the handle spinning back into place.

Quiet footsteps made their way towards your bed before it all went silent. You felt a shiver run through you as you felt eyes on you. Unbeknownst to you, those pair of eyes belonged to the specific Russian whom you gave permission to your room.

Natasha hesitated, she was stood at the foot of your bed. It had been a week since you gave her that offer. Every day since then, her nightmares had gotten progressively worse. She had thought about going to you sooner but then would back out, afraid to be a bother.

Tonights nightmare wasn’t any different from the rest, but she managed to wake herself up before the worst came. Now here she was, next to your bed as she watched the soft rise and fall of your chest while you lay sprawled out like a starfish.

Natasha clenched her jaw, still deep in thought. Should she really take up your offer? She could always go to the training room and let it all out there.

She sighed, rubbing a palm over her face as her eyes start to flutter. She was too deep in thought that she hadn’t noticed how tired she really was.

Letting out another heavy sigh, Natasha took a step forward and sat on the edge of your bed, scared you’d wake up if she’d put anymore weight.

But that thought flew out of her mind almost immediately once she felt a yawn crawling its way up her throat. Natasha gently grabbed the covers that you were buried beneath and curled up next to you.

As if sensing her presence, your arm found its way under her neck and around her back, resting on the curve of her waist and effectively pulling her closer to the warmth of your body.

Natasha’s eyes shoot open as they instantly land on you, wondering if you’d been awake the whole time. But the steady fall of your chest and the quiet snores coming from you seem to answer her question as she lays her head down on your chest.

The comforting sound of your heartbeat and breaths lulled Natasha as her eyes fluttered, but yet she still fought to stay awake, wanting to bask in the moment before she has to face you in the morning.

Natasha shifted impossibly closer to you as her arm reached over your waist and her leg intertwined with yours. She was practically bathing in the warmth that your body gave off, as her nose nuzzled into the juncture of your neck.

To her, it was honestly a dream to even be this close or intimate with you, especially with her infatuation. Soon enough, she was drifting off into a peaceful slumber, by your side.

#black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #marvel #mcu

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empty-vessel-of-a-person · 4 months ago

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How I Envision "Intimate Time" with the LaDS Boys be like.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Zayne

The Sensual Partner.

I feel like Zayne is a very sensitive and emotionally attached person so being able to connect with him through mind and soul is the best way to get him stimulated.

I never see him as the one who will inflict pain in his partner in any way. He is to gentle for that.

He will always tends to your needs first before his own. We have seen this on Hidden Motive. He did lose control of himself and become "intense" as M/C describe him. But in the end, even if he is clearly still in need, he asks M/C if what he is allowed to do.

He is the type to enjoy the goosebumps forming in your skin whenever he touch or kisses you.

He always listen to you. No plea or request will make it pass his ears and he would always deliver what you ask

He would always whisper his thank you (Zayne's Translation: I Love You) (F.U. Astra!!!!) when you both finish.

Sylus

The Intense Partner

This guy is rough. We all know that. The manhandling and almost stalker-ish behavior he have when it comes to you is all the proof we need.

He also is the type of partner who will make you experience different and new type of high.

He is confident and know what will make your body tremble for him.

He is also type of partner to takes pleasure from your pleasure. Don't get me wrong, all the boys are like this. But unlike Zayne, who takes pleasure from your equal needs for each other, Sylus on the other hand, take it from your pleasure alone. The more happy you are the more satisfied he gets.

He is the type of partner, who will leave marks on you on visible area of your skin.

He is also a type of partner to whisper "lewd" things to your ears and not be ashamed of it.

But no matter how rough he is, he will always cuddle you after you both finish.

Xavier

The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing.

We can all agree that the soft-spoken Xavier is a predator in bed. To say I am shocked on his No Restraint card is an understatement. That sweet thigh-nuzzling to unexpectedly throwing you to bed is shocking yet so hot.

Xavier longs for you and that's why I think he jumps to every opportunity to touch you and go so feral about it.

He is the king of roleplay. I bet with the right coaxing, he will do whatever you want or be whatever you like him to be. We have seen this in several occasion and the most recent is on Mystic Adventures in Misty Invasion Event.

I bet that he is a very passionate lover and will definitely takes his time on getting you prepared and worship your body especially your legs.

Since Xavier doesn't talk much, he most likely show his affection by cuddling and touching. Teasing you with his soft feather like touches that leaves you breathless.

Rafayel

The Pure Partner

He is so pure hearted I could cry. Somebody pointed this out and my big shoutout to you because I can't remember where I read it. We have to remember that Rafayel is a Lemurian. What maybe something that is normal for us in the art of intimacy, may something new for him and this made him unsure or shy about being intimate.

I feel like it will be your duty to give him in the art of intimacy. We know how much he can blush and even that kiss on tub gives me a feeling that he really wants it to happen but is unsure how to do it.

I feel bad for him that we've been so intense with him during the Misty Invasion event. If my understanding is correct, he is quite sad because of his old friend. That guy must be important for him and although we are oblivious of his significance to Rafayel, we should have been more sensitive.

And speaking of sensitive, I feel like Raf is a hyper-sensitive one. Every touch we give, every emotion we pour on him magnifies 10 fold if not a thousands.

He really wants us for him to wait 800 years and during that time, i bet he's not been with anyone and then suddenly we are going feral on him (well who can't be? hehehe)

But imagine this, you taking the lead for him and guiding him to what makes you both reach that pleasure. Slowly slides your hands from his shoulders, torso, and pelvis while whispering to him "you're doing great" and he will moan for you.

Full disclosure: I am a Zayne Girlie but Rafayel's bedroom voice can make me sweat. He knows how to use his voice (A true merman!!!!) to lure you in. (Kudos to his wonderful duber!!!!)

And lastly and the most important thing that I love about Rafayel, is how he is always available and ready for you no matter how unsure he is.

#love and deepspace #zayne #xavier #rafayel #sylus #zayne love and deepspace #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #lnds #l&ds

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the-oblivious-writer · 11 months ago

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Get Her Back!

Clarisse La Rue x Daughter of Athena!Reader

One-shot

Summary: You and Clarisse have always had a reputation for the rollercoaster you both called your relationship. While on another one of your "breaks," you decide you want to mess with her

Warning(s): Swearing, Clarisse & r are hella toxic, jealousy (on both ends but mostly jealous!Clarisse), making out (nothing more is hinted at, just Clarisse & r kissing like the problematic girlfriends they are), & arguing

Notes: Wooo this one got a bit heated before I knew it. Hope you enjoy

You and Clarisse La Rue… how does one sum up your relationship with the Ares kid? You and her were known for being on and off, arguing almost as much as you made out. You were both in a toxic, heated, yet passionate, relationship.

Oh, how you loved each other.

You met Clarisse the first summer you got to camp. It didn’t take long for you to discover what you had gotten yourself into. She argued with you about everything, she had an ego and a temper and a wandering eye; you couldn’t help but be attracted to her, even when she was so obviously lying about her height.

The first time you left Clarisse was in the spring, that was when your current dynamic truly started. You lasted about a week before you were back in her arms, forgetting how you threw all her stolen clothes out your cabin’s window just a few nights before.

You were currently going through another one of your breaks with Clarisse while you laid down on your bed, reading as you tried to ignore another little lecture from your friend.

“All I’m saying is that I don’t understand why you stay with her, you know? The second my boyfriend did me wrong, I kicked his ass out the door. For good,” he said, sitting at the end of your bed.

“That’s because you didn’t have what me and Clarisse have,” you responded, looking up at him from your book. He shrugged, mumbling, “Whatever.”

“Do you love or hate her? I honestly can’t tell anymore. One second, she’s the worst human being to ever exist but then the next, she’s the love of your life, the woman you’re gonna marry.”

“I guess it’s up and down,” you replied in a nonchalant tone before looking back at your book.

He lightly chuckled, shaking his head a bit as he said, “I need to learn when to give up trying to figure you out.”

—

Later that night was the bonfire. You didn’t really feel like attending but your friend had basically begged you to go. Just five minutes in, and he was already flirting with a girl from cabin ten. You were staring off into the fire, red solo cup in your hand, when you suddenly heard somebody sit next to you. You turned your head to see a dark haired boy, looking at you with a smile as he spoke.

“Hey gorgeous, I’m Steve. I think I’ve seen you around before. Athena cabin, right?” He asked, his eyes never pulling from you. You didn’t feel like entertaining him. You weren’t stupid, you knew he was flirting with you. But thoughts of not reciprocating his flirtatious attitude quickly disappear when you see Clarisse watching from the corner of your eyes.

All night you had to watch Clarisse cuddle up with someone who wasn’t you. And all night you refused to give her the attention you knew she was hoping to get out of it, your pride and stubbornness wouldn’t allow you to. So when you finally get the chance for that sweet revenge, you don't hesitate.

You looked at the boy next to you, putting on a sweet smile and placing a hand on his knee. “Yeah, cabin six. What about you?” You slightly tilted your head, looking at him as if he was the most interesting person on earth.

“Hermes cabin,” he responded. He suddenly grew a bit shy under touch, but welcomed it nevertheless. “Hey do you uh… wanna get out of here? I know this cool spot I could show you.” You knew what that was code for; do you want to make out?

“Sure, sounds good,” you winked at him before getting up. He held his hand out for you, which you took as you both began to walk away from the fire. Clarisse's eyes were on you the whole time, clenching her jaw as she watched you walk with him hand in hand. She ignored her siblings’ confused looks as she walked over to you before you and Steve could go any further.

“I think she’s good here,” she said—not asked.

“Um, I think she can make her own decisions. She’s a big girl, if she wants to go, she can go,” he responded.

“I don’t know who you think you are, but she’s not leaving with you.” She glared at the boy with storms in her eyes, her fists balled up. By now your hands were separated from the boy’s, watching the entertaining scene in front of you with a knowing look on your face.

“Excuse me–” Before he could get himself into any more trouble, you walked to Clarisse’s side—she instantly put her hand on your lower back.

“Listen it was nice meeting you Steve, but she’s right; I should really get going; it’s getting kinda late.” You gave him a fake apologetic look. “Maybe I’ll see you around some other time?” You managed to get out as Clarisse was practically dragging you away.

“What’s your problem?” You said to her when you both finally made it to the cabin—her cabin.

“My problem? What’s yours! You know Steve is a douchebag, we were literally laughing about it last week,” Clarisse let out with an aggravated tone.

“Why do you care so much? Shouldn’t you be thrilled that somebody else is stuck with my high maintenance ass!” She only rolled eyes, shaking her head. “Yeah, you really think I wouldn’t bring that up!” You dryly laughed.

“Oh my Gods,” she mumbled before continuing. “You are the most frustrating woman I have ever met!”

“And you’re the most hot-tempered woman I have ever met!” You shouted back, throwing your hands up as you stepped closer to her. “You’re a hot-headed asshole!”

“Well it’s better than being a stubborn know-it-all!” She took a step towards you; your faces were now no more than inches apart. You both stole a glance at the other’s lip before a moment of silence. Suddenly, your lips connected. She was firmly gripping your waist while one of your hands found itself in her hair as the other held the back of her neck.

“I fucking hate you,” you mumbled breathless against her lips. She pushed you up against the cabin door; Gods, you didn’t even care that you were still outside and anybody could just walk by.

“I fucking hate you too.” Her kissing was hungry, passionate. Blood was rushing through veins, your cheeks were warm, and butterflies had erupted in your stomach. You could feel Clarisse feeling for the door's handle for a few seconds before you reached behind you to turn it.

You both went inside, Clarisse kicking the door shut. You could feel her warm touch as her hand grazed the skin of your lower back. She walked you backwards toward her bed, never daring to pull away.

“Fuck, I love you,” you let out as Clarisse moved down to your neck.

“I love you too, don’t you forget it,” she murmurs against you.

Clarisse La Rue may have been narcissistic, stubborn, hot-headed, and pretentious, but you were your mother’s daughter, so maybe you could fix her.

-----------

A/N: she could abuse me, beat the dog-shit outta me, cheat on me, hit me with her car

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse larue x reader #clarisse la rue #dior goodjohn #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #heros of olympus

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thefoxtherapist · 7 months ago

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hiii! i saw you were taking requests for wuwa and was wondering if you could write general cuddling headcanons or scenarios for jiyan, calcharo, scar (idk if he’s a cuddle type guy lol), and/or any other characters of your choosing. can have already established relationships

tysm 💜👾

Thank you for the request! I hope you like it! I'm still learning the characters so go easy on me o7

-Scar actually strikes me as somebody overly clingy if given the opportunity. If his schedule allows for it, there's almost nowhere else he'd rather be.

-He's pretty brash about his wants and needs, he doesn't hesitate to take what he wants. And yet, his approach to relationships and intimacy differs from this. If his storytelling is to be believed, I think he'd be hesitant.

-But the moment you open your arms when he comes home? Scar's arms are around your waist in seconds. Always a bit too tight, face buried against you in one way or another. It can be bruising at times, or the complete flipside of far too gentle.

-With Scar its rarely big spoon/little spoon. He prefers when you're laying on your back, either on the bed or the couch. He likes to lay partially on top of you, his face buried in your neck, body half on top of yours like a protective shield. Your arms around him, holding him tightly.

-If he can't breathe because he refuses to remove his face from your neck or hair, then he's cuddling correctly!

-You know those memes that are like (brooding edgy guy) "and what were you up to-" "killing..." "we were cuddling." YOU CAN'T DO THAT WITH HIM! Scar will PROUDLY announce everything you two were doing. IN DETAIL.

-He's a proud man. And you've eaten his hair. Ultimately, 7/10.

-Jiyan gonna hit you with "I'm too busy right now, I'll make it up to you." then never make it up to you. The weight of the world is on his shoulders and to some degree he put it there himself.

-You gotta drag his green ass into bed, I'm sorry. But once he's in bed, he will stay there. The thing about cuddling with Jiyan is that it isn't just cuddling? It's also nap time. He's tired, he's overexerting himself, he's fighting a bazillion internal and external wars.

-He likes being the big spoon (you slept on his hair accidentally ONE TIME). Jiyan is a bit tense as his arm wraps around you, his other arm under the pillow. At first his chin will rest against your head, he'll sorta look over you.

-Eventually though he'll relax, his chest will loosen, his grip will loosen, and his face will drop into the top of your head. His breathing gets quieter, calmer. Every time he breathes out a lil hard, there's a gentle breeze that rustles the sheets. But it keeps the temperature perfect.

-It is at this point you could turn in his arm if you want to, bury your face into his chest. Jiyan is fast asleep and happy to hold you as he finally gets some rest with his lover. He's a bit of a snorer though, sorry.

-3/10 on a normal day, but once you get him into the freaking bed, he's so comfortable to nap with and snuggle so 9/10 once hes in there. Good luck though.

-So the edgy brooding guy I mentioned in Scar's section, that is Calcharo. Most of the people who work for him, or even know him, don't even know he has a partner. This is to keep you safe.

-But because of this, physical intimacy is often put aside for safety. He isn't a fan of it, I doubt you're a fan of it. But Calcharo puts those he looks out for pretty high up on his priority list.

-You have a secret knock. And when he knocks in that secret way, he's quick to push by you and into your home. He's quick to check all the locks before he even says hello.

-But his hello is picking you up and bringing you to the nearest soft surface. Your back hitting the couch cushions, him still holding your thighs as he pretty much lays on top of you at a bit of an awkward angle.

-Calcharo tends to kiss and cuddle, it isn't just a relaxing snuggle, he wants to get his kisses in too. Each one gentle, almost tired, as he peppers your face in small kisses. He's a bit like, yes I am saying this to be silly, a puppy.

-If you don't push him off and get him outta his gear, he will sleep like this. Look at that man, he's tired. But the second you push on his shoulder, he's off of you. Very respectful man, my beloved. But he'll follow you to your bedroom, dropping gear on his way. His weapon beside your bed.

-8/10. He's back to giving you kisses and he hasn't undone his boots yet.

#Wuthering Waves x reader #wuwa x reader #Jiyan x reader #Calcharo x reader #Scar x reader #༻Stygian #༻Tenebris #༻Decree of 👾#can you tell which sections i've finished / what 5* i have by the length of these? lol..

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cressidagrey · 6 months ago

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Lightning in the Bottle - Chapter 9

Summary:

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was actually pretty much useless. The only thing she wanted was to be somebody's first choice for once in her life.

Also known as: Azriel's shadows decide that if he doesn't treat his mate right... they'll just do it for him.

Warnings:

Elain Bashing, Rhys is trying to be a supportive big brother, This is officially the penultimate chapter of this story, but the series will eventually go on!

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

“When was I supposed to tell you?” Eira asked Feyre calmly. “You said you were busy with more important things. You were busy with running this court.”

She didn’t give her sister the fault for that, but…

“I would have…” Feyre protested but then cut herself off. “No, I wouldn’t have,” she sighed. “That’s on me. I gave you no opportunity to come to me, no reason why you should ever trust me again…” Feyre said softly, trailing off, staring at Eira with wide blue eyes. “I am sorry.”

“For what? Saying what you were thinking?” Eira asked her sister, her eyebrows furrowing. “You are allowed to do that, Feyre. Even if I don’t like to hear it.”

Even when she didn’t want to hear it…even then.

“Talking to you like this,” Feyre pointed out, reaching out for her hand. “When I told you that I had more important things to do when you were only trying to be nice to me…or when I put my nose into what happened between Azriel and you.”

Eira swallowed at that.

“Don’t be,” Eira assured her sister, forcing a smile on her face. “It was time for me to…to realise that he’s completely uninterested and that any hope of him changing his mind is a fever dream.” Azriel wasn’t interested and he never would be. It would be better for everybody if Eira just accepted that.

She would get over him. Find somebody else…maybe somebody that she wouldn’t annoy… maybe some long-suffering male… who was willing to take pity on her. “You don’t need to worry about it anymore, Feyre. I won’t try and talk to him again,” she promised her sister.

Feyre had enough other things to worry about. Eira’s feelings weren’t going to inconvenience anyone any more.

“No!” Feyre exclaimed and she stared at her sister.

What?

This was what Feyre had wanted, wasn’t it?

“No?” she repeated questioningly, a hand still gently running over Nyx's back that was happily cuddling with her, playing with her fingers.

“What Feyre means is that…you have every right to…handle your relationships as you see fit,” Nesta hurried to add.

Her relationships?

“There is no relationship. There never will be a relationship. I’ll get over myself,” Eira promised. Eventually. “You don’t need to worry about it. I won’t annoy him any longer or inconvenience you.”

You’ve never annoyed Master, the shadows hissed at her, suddenly appearing and wrapping themselves around her hand.

“It’s very sweet of you to say that, but we both know it is a lie,“ she said quietly, blinking back the tears that threatened to run over her face. It was so sweet. So sweet of them to do that…but it was useless.

Don’t worry, I’ll find somebody else,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. Somebody that…somebody that maybe wanted her…somebody that she wouldn’t annoy…somebody that… “Is everything alright with Elain’s wedding planning?“ she asked, changing the topic. Eira hoped everything was alright with that, otherwise poor Elain would be so stressed once again and…

“Eira, forget that fucking wedding for a moment,” Nesta snapped and she flinched, worriedly looking at Nyx that didn’t seem to care one way or another about Nesta’s cursing. What was wrong with the wedding? Had something gone amiss? Was it her fault? Was it something that Eira had done?! “Look at me,” her older sister said with a sigh. She did. Eira’s eyes met Nesta’s, silver and grey, so similar. “I am sorry,” Nesta told her earnestly.

“Why are you apologising?” Eira asked. What was…

“Because I threw everything I could think of at your head when I…during those weeks and you still came to visit me every week. You wouldn’t have needed to do that but you still did,” Nesta said quietly.

“You’re my sister. Of course, I came to visit you,” Eira said fiercely. Of course, she had come to visit Nesta. She would have…otherwise, she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself. ”You don’t need to apologise,” Eira assured her. It was fine. Nesta had…had a really bad time and…

“Yes, I do,” Nesta snapped. “You should be angry with me!”

Furious…Angry…But then Eira had never really been angry quickly. She had never…And even when she had gotten angry, it had never held for very long…even her anger at Elain had gone away in a few hours.

It sparked and then it went out again.

“You should be furious with me! For belittling you, for telling you that all the dresses you make are ugly, for behaving like I did!”

She repeated the words, and something deep inside Eira curled together once she heard them again, even when Nesta was sorry about all she had said.

It was fine. Nesta could… her dresses weren’t as perfect as some that one could buy maybe…maybe Nesta was right. Maybe she should keep to hemming them and shortening sleeves and alterations and stop making things from scratch…maybe she should…“You are entitled to your own opinion,” she said softly.

“Not when I use it to hurt you on purpose!” Nesta yowled. “You never told me you made me a wedding dress,” she said, her voice dropping, sounding weak.

How did she…

For just a moment it felt like Eira’s heart was stopping. Then she swallowed, and she looked down at Nyx, still cuddled up to her, as she answered. “You wouldn’t have wanted to wear it, so what did it matter? It’s ugly.”

Not good enough. Not pretty enough. Worthless.

“It’s beautiful,” Nesta responded, her voice splintering.

Eira just closed her eyes.

She couldn’t stand it. She could deal with the harsh words but she could not deal with the outright lying. She could not… “You don’t need to tell me that to spare my feelings, Nesta. I understand,” Eira said weakly. She did understand it.

It was alright. It was…

“I am not lying to you!” Nesta snapped.” “Be angry at us. Scream at us. Throw us out, Eira. But don’t just…accept it. Don’t just turn the other cheek. Don’t just…”

What good could that possibly do?

“So I am angry and then what, Nesta?” Eira finally asked, for the first time feeling so utterly tired. “Is screaming at you supposed to make me feel better or you?” she asked, for the life of her not understanding what Nesta wanted from her. “I love you, but I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I think it may be better if you all take a break,” a voice came from the doorway and she looked up to see Rhysand there.

Gods, couldn’t she at least be spared that?

At least…

“I am not…” Nesta started, but Rhys cut her off quietly.

“Nesta. Please.” She had never heard the two of them talk to each other like that.

Never.

But now they did. And to Eira’s shock, her older sister listened.

“Fine,” she agreed with a sigh, as Feyre scooped up Nyx, who gave her a toothy smile as she waved at him.

Both Feyre and Nesta left the room, leaving her alone with Rhys.

“If this is about my ill-hidden puppy crush on your spymaster, you don’t need to worry about that,” she told him, trying to make her voice seem frosty and probably failing horribly. “I promise I’ll do whatever you want so that he’s not uncomfortable.”

Maybe then she would get out of needing to have a conversation about it with Rhys…maybe then he wouldn’t start making fun of her or laughing at it…

God, it must be utterly ridiculous to a man who was over 500 years old. She probably was just…

The last thing she had expected was for him to watch her with his dark violet eyes and then say three words: “I am sorry.”

Why was everybody insisting on apologising to her today?

And why was Rhys of all people apologising to her? Was it because of him looking into her mind? Seeing her deepest darkest secrets? Stripping her mind naked for him to see and gawk at?

Was it that?

“About taking a peek into my mind? Weren’t you trying to keep my pain at bay?” she asked, crossing her arms, ignoring the pain that appeared again in her ribs.

“I was,” Rhys agreed. “But I should have known better. I was arrogant and not careful enough. You have a right to privacy, Eira, and I violated that. And then I violated it further when I told everybody what you felt when they were talking to you.”

Oh great. It just got worse and worse.

“It’s fine,” she said, waving him off meekly. She didn’t have the strength to argue with him right now.

“It’s not,” Rhys disagreed with a sigh. “And that’s not the only thing that I am sorry about either. I am sorry about the role I played in making you feel like you have no place here in Velaris,” he continued and her head snapped up to him.

How…of course. He had seen everything.

“Like you are worthless…that you don’t matter,” Rhys continued softly. “I should have never talked to you like that, and I should have realised that we have taken you for granted a very long time ago,” Rhys said. “Even now you are wondering why Feyre and Nesta even bother to apologise to you. Eira, it wasn’t right how we treated you. When I finally got to pull myself from your mind, I threw up, because I was so utterly disgusted with what members of our family said to you. And I am counting myself onto that list as well.”

She didn’t even know what to say to that.

She didn’t…

It was everything she had ever wished anybody would tell her…Everything right there offered to her on a silver platter.

She could feel the tears burn into her eyes because she was…”What do you want?” Eira finally choked out. “What do you want, Rhysand? You wouldn’t say that if you didn’t want something. So what is it?”

What did he want that…

But she hadn’t expected him to reach out, one warm broad hand settling on her shoulder.

“Oh, little one,” he breathed. “I don’t…I don’t want anything from you. This isn’t me manipulating you into giving up even more of yourself. The only thing I want is for you to be happy. I want you to know that we love you. I want you to know that none of us took for granted what you did…that you took this knife for Nyx. You were willing to give your own life for my son, Eira.”

She had.

“I am sorry for the role I played. I am not expecting you to forgive me now, but I would…hope that you may let me earn your forgiveness. May let all of us work for it.”

She had no idea what to think of that, didn’t know what to say about any of that, as the tears ran over her cheeks and he handed her a handkerchief from nowhere, his magic easily answering his call.

“Think about it?” he requested softly. “If you don’t think you can ever forgive us…we’ll figure out somewhere else for you to stay…you won't ever need to worry about money or anything else…but if you were willing to give us a second chance…I know that Feyre and Nesta would be so happy to have you here.”

She didn’t want to go anywhere else. She was too connected to her family for that, she loved them too much that she thought that she could be happy anywhere further away from them. Maybe a smarter person would have taken Rhys’ offer with both hands, would have made herself a nice little life somewhere near the Summer Court maybe…but…

So finally she just nodded.

She would give them a chance to fix things. She could try.

And if it didn’t work out…maybe she would find herself somewhere else then.

“There is…something else, I need to show you, if that’s alright, though,” Rhys continued quietly. “And it’s not..going to be…nice,” he warned her. “Elain had a vision.”

A vision? A bad one? “When?” Eira asked tonelessly. Were they in danger?

“Close to two years ago,” Rhys answered gently. “Soon after you were made…and since then Elain has…manipulated circumstances so that it wouldn’t come to fruition. She didn’t tell anybody about it.”

This didn’t sound well. This didn’t sound like her sister either.

“Is she alright?” Eira demanded and Rhys nodded.

“She’s fine,” he promised her, his voice even. “I think it’s better if you see it if you’ll let me show you.”

She nodded her agreement, swallowing…steeling herself for death and destruction and then getting…neither.

Actually, that vision was…the softest, sweetest thing she had ever seen.

It was…It was everything she had ever wanted.

A little girl with her caramel brown hair…dark eyes…hazel and green…and wings. She had wings? Illyrian wings?

Eira watched herself with the little girl…watched them pull the carrots out of the ground…watched the little girl grin at her, gap-toothed and beautiful…everything she had ever wanted.

And then…then she saw these violently scarred hands that had only ever touched her with so much gentleness…scoop up the little girl, her daughter…her mud-sprinkled dress decorated with little floral embroidery and settled her on his hip in a move that looked like he had done it hundreds and thousands of time.

It was…

Azriel.

What? How…why…the wings. It was his child? Her child? His child? Their child?!

He lifted up the basket that they kept their harvest in and then helped up her…the touch gentle and…intimate in a way that spoke of their…that…

One hand was pressed against the swell of her belly…another child slumbering inside her.

A baby.

Her babies.

Their babies.

No, this…this…

Her blood rushed in her ears, her breathing rapid as her vision cleared and Rhys looked at her quietly…nearly pitying.

“The mating bond snapped for Azriel during dinner a few days ago,” he told her, his voice quiet.

No. No. No.

“This isn’t funny.” She wasn’t even sure how she forced these words out of her mouth. She wasn’t sure how she did that…How she…

“It’s not a joke,” Rhys assured her quietly. “It’s the truth, Eira. Elain saw that and decided to stop it from happening.

No.

Not Elain. Not her twin sister. Not…

Azriel. Azriel?

At least I found two males in my life willing to marry me. The one you have your ridiculous puppy crush on is never even going to look at you!”

But you do need to realise, Eira, that that is never going to go anywhere.

Azriel is completely disinterested. And it would be better for you if you finally realised that.

I want you to be happy. And thirsting after a male that will never return your affections you won’t do that. He’s not going to change his mind, Eira.

You should just stop your pathetic attempts to flirt with him. All you manage is to make him uncomfortable.

There are plenty of fish in the sea… You’ll find somebody else one day.

It’s still never going to go anywhere!

He’s completely disinterested.

Her breathing came in sharp gasps. Blood rushed in her ears.

Elain had said all of that. Elain.

Elain, who had known that Eira had fallen in love. Who had seen this vision…who had seen her…her children. Her babies.

Azriel’s children. These perfect babies?

And Elain had tried to make sure that they never would exist?!

Her babies…

The first sob that broke out of her chest, the first fat tears that spilt over her face as she buried her face in her hands…as she cried.

“I know. I know, little one,” Rhys whispered quietly.

“Why did she do this?” Eira forced out, forcing a deep lungful of air into her constricting lungs. Why would she do this? Why had she…Why had Elain seen this and then…then behaved like this…why had she…Why…

“Shhhhh,” Rhys shushed her softly, gently brushing a hand over her hair, smoothing it over “It’s alright. It’s alright.”

It wasn’t alright. None of this was alright.

And she couldn’t stop the tears or the sob that shook her…even as she didn’t know how long it took until Nesta crawled into bed with her, hauling her against her body and holding her tightly. Even as Feyre curled up next to her, holding her hand…until it was the three of them, just as it had been in that cottage…lacking one sister.

#acotar fanfiction #lightning in a bottle #my writing #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x archeron!reader

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lovifie · 10 months ago

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The First Morning ☀️

Masterlist — OG Drabble

Boyfriend!Ghost x Chubby!Reader, but they wake up in each other's body.

A.K.A. How Simon would react to waking up in his dear lovie body.

There isn't any freaky accident, no car crash pushing one against the other, no lightning hitting them and melting them together, not a bullet flying hitting the one jumping in front or the other but still going through the both of them. Any of that.

Simon just got back from deployment, left the guns at the base, told Price he would be back in the morning and went home to you. Took off his boots, took a shower, got into the bed with you, made sweet sweet love to you while cuddling (you being the little spoon) and then fell asleep with you in his arms.

So there is no reason as to why he can see himself staring back at him from the bathroom door. At first, he thinks he's dead, he got distracted and was unable to outrun the inevitable. But then he realizes he's alive, and he sits up pulling away the covers. He never expected that seeing your naked body would cause him an even remotely negative sensation, but seeing it in first person point of view without further explanation has him jumping off the bed as if that would push him back into his original body.

“Simon?” A deep voice emerges from his body on the other side of the room, his own voice sounding strange not coming from within himself. He asks your name, weirded out by the higher pitch voice that he manages to get out.

“I am not dreaming, right? You are seeing your body too, right?” You ask, a bit of shake on your voice so uncharacteristic of the body it is coming out of.

“No, love. I can also see us in each other body.” He says, leaving a sigh exhale. “C’mere, let's sit down for a second.”

He sits down at the feet of the bed, patting the mattress next to him. He looks at you, and he doesn't have time to say anything before you hit your forehead on the door frame of the bathroom causing you to crouch down grabbing your head. He wonders for a second how you didn't hit it on your way in.

You whine rubbing your head, and Simon can't help but cringe at the sound leaving his body. “Don't do that…” He says, trying to peel your hands away to check the damage and you whip your head to look at him, brows furrowed offended by his words. “Well, I'm sorry for cracking my head open, Simon.”

He sighs, rubbing his face. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's just fucking weird to see myself like that.” He says, and when he takes his hands away from his face he sees you looking at his chest, well, your original body chest. “It's that how much my boobs move when I talk?” You ask, frankly surprised by the amount of movement.

“Love, I know your boobs are hypnotic, but let's focus.” He says, covering his chest with his hands. You quickly nod, coming back to your senses and stand up, once at your full size you look down at Simon, who is still crouching down staring between your legs. He looks up, a little terrified expression on his face when he makes eye contact with you. He stands up without saying anything, but you have just earned yourself another kind of respect from Simon, because if he had to affront somebody his size while being yours, he would be terrified.

He looks at the time on his phone and says: “I need to leave in 40 minutes to make it on time at the base.”

“I'll send a message to the office that I need to work from home for a couple of days, it'll be okay.” You answer, picking up your own phone to send said message.

“Perfect, we both going to the base then. We'll explain everything to the Captain, I don't think he'll be able to help but there is no point in hiding it, it wouldn't work.” He says, opening your closet to find clothes

“Wait… I'm going to meet your team?” You ask, surprised because Simon has always told you that he didn't want to expose you either to the military or his own team, justifying as it being too risky for your own safety. He sighs turning to look at you and nods. “Yeah, it's not ideal and I would have very much rather introduce you to them with you on your own body but I guess this is how we are doing it now. Get dressed, doll.”

Each of you begins to walk to your closet, only to stop once you reach it and turn around to walk to the other one. Picking up the clothes for Simon is easy, his uniform is always ready just as you open the door. You pick up a pair of knickers from his drawer, and frown when you see there is a hole in it. You pick up another one, only to find the same hole. “Simon.” You call him, getting a hum as a response that he is listening. “Why is all your underwear ripped?”

“What?” He asks, turning around to figure out what you are talking about. When he sees it on your hand, he chuckles before explaining. “That's not ripped, is on purpose, to get your dick out to pee without taking them off.”

There is a beat of silence before you ask. “I beg you pardon?” Simon laughs at your reaction and says. “Put them on, then try what I told you.”

You hold a hand up, letting Simon know to wait and you put the underwear on. You peek through the hole in the underwear and realise it is at the perfect height to get your new dick out. And it is then that you realise: “Wait… I can pee standing up!” You exclaim looking at him like you just discovered a new continent. Simon nods at you smiling softly when he sees you walk to the bathroom. “Watch your head.” You managed to avoid the hit in the last second thanks to him, and raise the toilet lid.

Simon walks behind you, crossing his arms when he sees you crouching down on the toilet. “What are you doing? Stand up!” He says confused.

“I don't want to pee out!” You say back, still in an awkward position. You hear him chuckle again and then you feel a stinging slap on your ass cheek causing you to move your hips forward away from his hand. “Simon!”

His hands find their way to your hips and move your hands to his dick to pee inside the toilet. “See? Not so hard right?” He says walking back to wash his hands and face, and then looks back at you when he sees a weird movement on the corner of his eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” You say a bit too quickly and turn around, an obvious half-boner on your crotch. Simon sighs, half laughing at the way you act as if there is nothing wrong.

“Lovie.” He says walking up to him, holding your hands. “I'm gonna need you to keep your mind clear, all right? Nothing nasty is that little head of yours, all right?”

“Simon.” You say, holding back his hands. “I'll try my best… but I can't promise anything.”

You kiss his forehead, before walking back to the room, barely hitting your head again and walk to your closet. Pulling clothes out for Simon, pitying his own style of clothing and choosing some of your more tame clothes. A pair of straight black jeans, a white undershirt and a grey jersey; Simon shows his gratitude towards your choice with a quick nod before getting dressed. Before he puts the shirt over his head you are quick to throw your bra at him: “Put it on, Simon. I'm not meeting your boss with my nipples saying hi before me.” He groans, as if it was a daily occurrence and you quickly put on the rest of the clothes.

You turn around when you are ready and chuckle when you hear Simon complain under his breath about the bra stabbing him. He puts the rest of the clothes on and turns to you, checking for your approval and you nod at him smiling. You walk into the bathroom to pick up the brush and come back, sitting on the bed and asking him to step between your legs to brush your hair.

You do a braid on your hair, keeping the hair from his face and smile at him when he looks at you. He sighs and picks up his mask from his nightstand. “Try it on, alright? If it suffocates you or something, take it off; but if you don't mind I would like it a lot if you keep it on.”

You nod, and help him put it on without twisting an ear. You readjust it and take a couple of deep breaths to test it, you look at him and shroud your shoulder. “Fine for now, I'll tell if I start to feel like I'm dying.”

You stay looking at each other for a second broken by your voice “We should be a lot more panicked than we are, right?”

“Yeah, probably.” He says resting his hand on your shoulder as yours finds his way to the back of his knees. “But it's still us, so. It's just us, like always.”

Once the both of you are dressed and ready for the day, the both of you walk out to his car. You enter the copilot seat, hitting your head on the way in but starting to get used at this point. Simon enters the driver seat, looking confused when he can’t reach either the pedals or the wheels. He moves the seat to the front, and looks at you: “This is how close you need to move the seat to drive? If you ever get in a crash you are out before you see the other car, love.”

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little-diable · 7 months ago

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Let the Rain Wash Away Our Secrets – Charlie Swan (smut)

It's been some time since I've last written for one of our fave DILFs, so here we go. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is one of Bella's best friends. But as she comes to Forks to visit her younger friend, Bella is too distracted by her boyfriend, giving (y/n) and Charlie the chance to get to know one another.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, car smut, best friend's dad trope, quite fluffy, age gap (reader is legal ofc)

Pairing: Charlie Swan x fem!reader (3k words)

Clouds covered the sky, adding to the gloomy atmosphere (y/n) found herself trapped in. Her eyes kept wandering, taking in her surroundings as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Protected from the light rain by her jacket, (y/n) cuddled herself further into the fabric, while she hoped that somebody would finally open the door.

Once again, she rang the bell while wondering where Bella was. It had been days since they had last spoken, but while (y/n) had reminded her friend of her approaching trip, Bella had seemed distracted, as if she was barely listening. (Y/n) had been hesitant to visit after the call, and yet she had missed her friend too much to back out of the trip.

With a sigh clawing through her, (y/n) reached for her phone to call Bella, hoping that she had fallen asleep or was wearing headphones, so she wasn’t hearing the ringing doorbell. But Bella didn’t pick up the call, letting it go to voicemail as (y/n) plopped down on the stairs leading up to the house.

Annoyance flushed through (y/n) as she ended the call. Bella had sent her Charlie Swan’s phone number a few weeks ago, telling her that she could always call him if (y/n) needed her but couldn’t reach her. But (y/n) had never spoken to the man before, unsure what to say to him, and if he would even know who she was, given Bella’s distraction these past weeks.

Uneasiness clung to (y/n) as she clicked on Charlie’s contact, having to deeply exhale before pressing the phone to her ear. She counted every ring, while slowly losing hope that the Chief would pick up the phone if he was currently working. But seconds before she’d be sent to voicemail, she was graced by Charlie’s raspy voice.

“Hello?” Something about the man’s voice left (y/n) trembling, having to clear her throat before she could focus on what she wanted to ask him.

“Hello, Chief Swan, this is (y/n), Bella’s friend.” She pressed her free palm against her trembling knee, hoping that she could ground herself as her nervousness kept flushing through her.

“(Y/n), yes, of course. Are you alright? Is Bella okay?” The concern dripping from his voice left (y/n) smiling. Bella hadn’t told her much about Charlie, but the things the young girl had told her, had been enough to leave (y/n) intrigued. Something about the things Bella had told her, hadn’t matched up, leaving her aching for the man who was undoubtedly missing his daughter.

“I don’t know. She was supposed to wait here for me, at your house, but it seems as if nobody is at home, I can’t reach her.” The groan leaving Charlie drew a soft gasp from (y/n), wondering why he was overcome by this clear wave of annoyance.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n), she’s out with her boyfriend. Give me a few minutes, I’ll come home to let you into the house!”

……

“I honestly wouldn’t mind taking the couch, Charlie.” Charlie had arrived at the house a while ago, greeting (y/n) with a soft smile that had instantly made heat buzz through her system. She had only seen a few pictures of the man before, and none of them were doing him justice. Charlie Swan was handsome, more handsome than (y/n) had imagined, leaving her slightly distracted as he guided her through the house.

“No, don’t worry. I have to get up for work early anyway, I would only wake you.” She followed him back downstairs into the kitchen, watching him reach for two cups. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” The smile playing on her lips kept growing as Charlie poured both of them their coffee before placing the cups down on the table. “So, Bella didn’t tell me about her boyfriend. Who is he?”

“His name is Edward, they met at school. He’s the son of Doctor Cullen, a friend of sorts.” The lack of emotions dripping from Charlie’s words left (y/n) smiling, instantly picking up on the chief’s dislike of Edward. (Y/n) studied him for a moment, taking in the clear confusion and annoyance as well as a hint of sadness.

“Well, you know, I’ve been around Bella for years now, and I’m sure he takes good care of her if she is that focused on him.” (Y/n) couldn’t stop her hand from finding Charlie’s, softly squeezing before she pulled away again. His eyes followed her movements, seemingly as shaken up by the electricity that had buzzed through them the second their hands touched.

“She should be proud to call you her friend, (y/n).” She had met Bella years ago, had helped around their house every now and then and had stepped in as a helping hand whenever Renée and Phil had left the city, given that (y/n) was a couple of years older than Bella. She had always supported the girl through whatever she needed, feeling like her older sister – ready to help her through every uneasy water she had been forced to sail through.

“That’s nice of you, thank you, Charlie.” Their eyes held contact as (y/n) took another sip of her coffee. “So, do you have any tips for me? I think I’d like to explore Forks while Bella is out.”

……

“Dad?” Bella’s voice echoed through the house. It was dark out, a comforting darkness that wrapped (y/n) and Charlie in its embrace as they found themselves surrounded by soft lights and candles.

Charlie had shown (y/n) around town for the past hours before they had eaten out at the diner. The conversation between them had flown all too effortlessly, guiding them from one place to the other as if they were old friends, connected through shared memories and unspoken emotions.

“Hey, Bells.” The girl stepped into the room, freezing in her step as her eyes found (y/n)’s features. Bella’s smile instantly fell, groaning with her head rolling back while speaking a few curses. “(Y/n), god, I am so sorry! I completely forgot you were coming today.”

“It’s alright. Your dad kept me company.” Her eyes found their way back to Charlie, who shot (y/n) a soft smile, before redirecting his gaze towards his daughter. Bella seemed all too oblivious, not picking up on whatever was lingering between Charlie and (y/n), seemingly still focused on her afternoon with Edward.

“How are the Cullens?” Charlie’s soft voice left (y/n) smiling. He had told her all about his dislike for the boy, and yet he still cared enough to hear about Bella’s experiences, her adventures, and whatever she was doing when she met up with the rather tense boy.

“Good! I can’t wait to introduce you to them, (y/n). I think I’ll head to bed now, but how about we grab some breakfast in the morning?” (Y/n) could only nod as Bella disappeared upstairs, leaving her wondering if Bella even cared about her visit after all. Charlie seemed to pick up on her confused expression, letting his hand rest on her knee to softly squeeze it.

“As much as I hate it, she’s in love. I’m sorry, she is so distracted these days. But feel free to call me tomorrow if she bails on you again, I’m not working in the afternoon.”

……

“Hi, excuse me, is Chief Swan still in?” She smiled at the policeman who studied her with an unreadable expression. He turned from her to call for Charlie, watching the chief appear a moment later. (Y/n)’s eyes found his, drawing a soft smile to his lips as he guided her towards him with a simple hand movement.

“Where’s Bells?” Charlie allowed her to step into his office, closing the door behind them to offer some privacy. (Y/n) plopped down in one of the leather chairs as Charlie took a seat himself, keeping his eyes on her with every movement. His office had an almost cosy touch to it, warmer than she had expected it to be.

“She seemed quite antsy the longer I kept her from Edward, so I told her I’d roam the town on my own for a bit.” (Y/n) could tell that Charlie struggled to keep his eyes from rolling, while he sunk further down into his chair. They held eye contact as she let go of a soft chuckle, feeling sympathy for the dad of her friend who clearly struggled to accept his daughter’s boyfriend.

“Well, I’m off in a few minutes, how about I take you to the beach I told you about yesterday?” The gratefulness she felt pushed heat through her body, a desperate heat that made it harder for her to ignore the growing crush she had on her friend’s father. (Y/n) could only murmur a barely audible “That’d be lovely” as Charlie turned back towards his computer to finish his report.

It didn’t take long for him to stop writing, before guiding her out of the station and to his car. Soft music filled the small space as they drove through Forks, allowing Charlie to tell her some more stories of the town he had loved for years. She felt unusually comfortable around Charlie, searching his closeness as if he were an old friend, a lover she had been with for years, an all too familiar sensation she hadn’t felt with anybody else.

“There we go, do you have a jacket with you?” Rain was falling from the sky as Charlie parked the car. Their eyes met, and for a second, (y/n) lost all strength to speak, fighting against the pull she felt deep inside of herself. She couldn’t cross that line, couldn’t try and move closer to her friend’s father, but it almost pained her to keep her distance.

“Uhm, no, but it’s alright, I don’t care about the rain.” Charlie’s soft chuckles filled the car before he opened his door and stepped outside. She watched him open the trunk to pull out an umbrella before he found his way to her side. With the umbrella covering both of them, Charlie guided her towards the empty beach, watching the waves rush ashore as if they were racing one another.

No words were spoken between them as she kept clinging to him, with her arm wrapped around his. The warmth Charlie emanated left her searching for his closeness, set on feeling him as close as he allowed her to. They walked along the beach with wandering eyes, taking in their surroundings, the dark sky and the high waves, letting an unusually calm atmosphere flush through them.

“It’s funny how nothing around here has changed over the years.” He almost whispered the words, luring (y/n)’s curious gaze towards his handsome features. Charlie was already looking at her, wearing a soft smile on his lips as he slowly moved his hand, stroking one of the hair strands that had fallen into her face behind her ear. Shudders shot down her spine, pulling her closer to Charlie.

“Did you ever think of leaving?” (Y/n) matched the quiet tone of his voice, she kept staring up at him as Charlie’s hand lingered on her cheek. His thumb explored her cheek, stroking her soft skin as if he had lost all will to fight against what was buzzing between them. She tried not to move, tried to stop herself from crossing the small distance between them, but the longing swimming in his pupils made it harder for (y/n) to hold still.

“Tell me to stop, (y/n).” It was a soft plead, words (y/n) couldn’t reply to as she shifted her weight and finally pressed her lips against Charlie’s. The kiss left her lips tingling, letting the sensation buzz through her body as if lightning had struck them. She slung her arms around his neck, groaning at the sensation of his beard scratching her skin – a sensation that made heat pool between her thighs.

His free hand found her waist to pull her against him, while their tongues met, deepening the kiss as rain kept pouring down on them. Only as the sound of thunder roaring in the sky echoed through their ears did they pull away. Both were heavily breathing, staring at one another with bright smiles that left them chuckling, feeling like teenagers in love.

“Come, let’s get back to the car.” Charlie guided her along the beach, back to the empty parking lot. She felt giddy with every step they took, wondering how the next moments would play out while very well knowing that she hadn’t gotten enough of Charlie. She needed more, needed whatever he could offer her.

Charlie pressed her against the car without another warning, kissing (y/n) again as if they were lovers reunited after years apart. Their movements were guided by an unfamiliar longing, something both hadn’t cared for these past years.

He parted from (y/n) with a soft sigh before he opened the car door for her, letting her get inside as he did the same on his side. The comfort the car offered wrapped them in its embrace, drawing relieved sighs from them while the rain kept pitter-pattering down on his windows. Their eyes kept holding contact as (y/n) pondered over her choices, unable to bite down her grin.

“Pull back your seat, Charlie.” He needed a moment before he set into motion, pulling back the seat enough for (y/n) to climb over the middle console and find comfort in his lap. Their lips searched one another like pilgrims, drawing groans and moans, filled with a desperation that urged (y/n) on to move her hips, grinding against his middle. The throaty groan that broke through Charlie left her grinning in success while she moved her hips again, feeling him grow beneath her.

“We have to stop before I won’t be able to pull away, baby.” His words drew a whine out of (y/n), her lips were kissing their way down his throat as her hands worked on his belt, not daring to think of stopping. Charlie’s hand found her throat, forcing (y/n) to look at him as her hands stopped moving.

“Charlie, I want this, I want you.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him groaning, forcing him to slowly nod to wordlessly allow her hands to keep on moving. With a grin stuck to her lips, she freed his hardening cock before she spat into her hand to pump him. Her walls fluttered around nothing, begging to be filled by him, needing to feel Charlie spread her.

“I don’t have anything on me.” She let her eyes flicker up to meet his stormy ones, getting lost in his gaze for a few seconds as she kept moving her hand, feeling him twitch in her grasp.

“I’m on the pill.” Grateful that she was wearing a dress, (y/n) began to shift on his lap, searching his lips for another kiss as she positioned herself over his cock. Their moans were swallowed by the kiss, echoing through the car while (y/n) sank down on him. For a moment, both held still, having to adjust to the new sensation, getting used to the way their bodies fit together all too perfectly.

“You feel so good, baby, fuck.” His words encouraged (y/n) to keep on moving, supported by his hands that guided her. She grew wetter by the second, letting her arousal coat his cock with every hasty movement, chasing an orgasm that was already close. Both knew that this wouldn’t last long, having to get this first orgasm out of the way before he could properly fuck her back at home, touching her like she deserved to be touched.

“Such a good girl, my pretty girl.” Charlie’s praises made her walls flutter, clenching down around him to push them both closer to the edge. (Y/n) kept moving, kept fucking herself on his cock with cries breaking out of her the second his fingers found her pulsing bundle, adding more friction to every movement.

“Charlie,” she sobbed his name as her eyes fluttered close, knowing she’d cum soon, letting go with his name clawing through her any moment now. He began to meet her thrusts, pushing his cock even deeper into her tightness to watch her come undone on top of him.

“Look at me, baby, look at me when you cum.” Their eyes found back together as (y/n) came with a cry, letting his name break through her. His hands kept supporting her, chasing his own orgasm while fucking into her. They were a trembling mess of tangled limbs, and yet both felt more relieved than ever before, thanking their lucky stars for pushing them together. Charlie followed her seconds later, letting go with a deep growl that forced (y/n) to shudder against him.

“Fuck,” Charlie’s pants left (y/n) chuckling. He was still buried inside of her, even as she pressed herself against his chest, focused on the racing beat of his heart. He held onto her with his arm slung over her back, not daring to let go of the woman who fit into his grasp a tad bit too well.

“I don’t know how we will tell Bella about this.” Her whispers rang in his ears, forcing a gritty chuckle from Charlie while pondering over her words.

“I doubt she will notice anything while she is that distracted by her boyfriend.” And with a hum clawing through (y/n), she lifted her head to look at him. Another soft kiss was shared between them, wordlessly communicating their every emotion that grew stronger by the second.

#Charlie Swan smut #Charlie Swan x reader #Charlie Swan imagine #twilight

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