description. luke castellan has betrayed camp half blood. luke castellan has made an enemy out of those around you. and unfortunately, luke castellan has always held a place in your heart that you can't close off. at least, not until you meet with him one final time.
includes. SMUT 18+, fem!reader, daughter of hypnos reader, oral (f and m receiving), brief anal rimming (f receiving), implied p n v, dreamscape sex again, angst galore, some arguing, references to pjo ep 8. inspo from wicked game by chris isaak
wc: 5.8k+
a/n: a dreamcatcher: daughter of the god of dreams installment.
Before you can realize the change, you’re standing on a hill.
It takes you a second to notice, but the area is much like your dreamscape. Low, waving blades of grass that travel through the air with the wind brushing against your bare ankles. The ocean is loud and to your right, down beneath a steep cliff. From just a quick glance, you see a storm brewing off into the distance. The water swirls angrily as if it’s ready to disrupt anything that dares to come into its path.
You can’t help but think about the betrayed son of the sea god back in reality who surely feels the same.
When you take your eyes away from the entrancing scenery of the ocean, you notice a cabin directly in front of you. It’s small, and made from long wooden logs, although there isn’t a forest nearby to identify the source of the frame. The exterior is slightly shabby, appearing manmade with a few imperfections.
It’s not on a comparable scale to the cabins back at Camp Half-Blood, but something about it feels cozy. It gives implications of a simpler life. Maybe what summer camp could have been if you weren’t the offspring of a god.
That and the clouds rumbling with warnings of an approaching storm is what encourages you to seek refuge in the four walls.
Step by step, you don’t fail to notice how a focus subject has yet to appear.
Your hand wraps around the doorknob and you push the slab of wood open as you wonder who’s dream you could have been pulled into tonight.
You haven’t even stepped foot over the threshold, you have started to convince yourself that this is the dream of the son of the sea god, and then someone speaks.
“Hey.”
You stop.
Your foot hovers for a second before you place it back beside the other.
That voice. You hadn’t heard it for months now, but you know it. Day after day, you lay at night with your eyes closed, cementing the memory of the way he spoke and how he sounded as he laughed at your jokes into your mind. Forcing yourself to recall the inflections in his tone as he teased you, and how his words flattened out and got hard when he gave orders to yourself and others. And then, completely involuntarily, you would force yourself to pick through every single intonation and word that you could remember, attempting to find signs. Any hints or clues that Luke Castellan wasn’t the person he made himself out to be.
Each night, you grapple with the fact that you couldn’t find any clues. You tried to reconcile with your blindness, all while telling yourself that you could have attempted to prevent it all.
But hearing his voice now, none of that returns. Unexpectedly, your body floods with warmth.
Luke sits on a small loveseat. The shape of it is a bit of a blur at first, but you blink and it cleans up to present a busy patterned textile couch. It’s well loved, there are a few tears in the bottom of the fabric at the back, and if you’re smelling it correctly, there’s a slight waft of cigarette smoke.
Strangely enough, it’s inviting.
You hate to admit it to yourself, but the boy sitting at one end of it makes it even more inviting.
You step into the cabin and close the door behind you.
“Hey, Luke.”
He turns around to face you at the sound of your voice. You sound stronger than you expected. More casual, too.
You realize that he’d been looking out a large set of windows before facing you. There’s only two but they take up most of the small wall. Outside is a perfect view of the land you’d just come from; bright green grass in the foreground and deep blue salt water off into the distance.
Luke stares at you.
The cabin is a little dark—there’s a lamp in the far corner that illuminates the room, washing out the otherwise blue light from outside—but you think his eyes are shining. As if there’s unshed tears barely held within them.
He smiles at you. It’s soft and almost mournful.
You should leave.
You shouldn’t be fraternizing with Luke at all, even if it is within a dreamscape. You couldn’t trust yourself in a room with him, especially with the things the two of you used to do when you were in dreamscapes alone.
Just looking at him reminds you of all of those times. Sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. The feeling of his muscles beneath your inquisitive hands. The deep and smooth sound of his voice. The way everything felt so real and so tangible as he rocked into you, and then as euphoria swept over your bodies you felt so infinite and surreal.
Your teeth find your lower lip. Your body urges you to get closer to Luke. Stubbornly, you stay in your spot.
“What d’you think?” He lifts a finger and circles it around in the air. Your eyes lift and you finally take in the rest of the cabin.
The main room is spacious, but comfortable. Lightly furnished with hardwood floors. Though almost every surface is covered in some sort of rug, most of them persian. There’s a small kitchen to your left, and then the living area that Luke sits in on the right. There’s a few bookshelves but there aren’t many books on them, and there’s a fireplace that looks to have never been used before. A few picture frames sit on the mantle of the fireplace, but from afar they just appear to be showcasing blobs of people without any distinctive features to identify an identity.
Admittedly, for this to be the created dreamscape of the son of a messenger, it’s impressive.
You tell him as such.
This time, Luke’s smile is appreciative.
“Means a lot coming from you. Especially with the things you can create.”
Your skin heats up and you block the memories out of your head before they can firmly cement themselves once more.
“You might have me beat, Castellan. Giving me a run for my money.”
You don’t know why you decide to fall into the old routine with him. Maybe it’s because you can’t push Luke away for the life of you. He was once your friend and so much more at the same time. It’s impossible for you to completely forget the times you shared together.
Maybe it’s the home making you feel this way.
How comfortable it feels. How protective it is.
You’ve spent weeks pulled into unfortunate dreams. Nightmares have plagued even the toughest minds of Camp Half Blood as of late, and you’ve been unable to fortify your own mind enough to prevent slipping into the mind of others. Which has left you to fight against unbeatable monsters, fortify the barriers of Camp only to have them knocked down by Zeus over and over again, watch those you love die in horrible battles, and much much more.
In comparison, there is the possibility of a simple conversation with Luke Castellan giving you what you’d been desperately missing even if you wouldn’t admit it to yourself: Luke’s company.
It’s how you reason with yourself whenever you take a seat atop the cushion of the couch. Instantly, it feels as if you’ve never truly known comfort before. This couch conforms to the curves of your body. You lean back against it, pull your feet up with you, and you quickly decide to stay a little while longer.
Up close, Luke looks even prettier than you remember. Dark curly hair a little more grown out, unruly and hanging over his forehead like low hanging fruit, begging for you to latch onto it. His face looks a little slimmer as if he’s lost weight, and the angular planes of his cheekbones and jawline accentuates the dark shadow he has along his chin. The mark of facial hair that was previously present. Beneath his clothes—a faded black, almost gray hoodie, and black sweatpants—he appears larger. His shoulders wider, his neck thicker, his wrist and hands veiner.
(Compared to his covered body, you feel bare in nothing but long socks, and a matching shorts and tank top set.)
He looks virtually the same, but his aura is different. There’s more confidence in him, a larger ego, glory even, that wasn’t there the last time you’d seen him. You know what has caused the change, and it should be something you despise. But his new glory makes him more attractive. It dries out your tongue and lodges something in your throat, pushing it further down until it sits heavy in your stomach.
“Thought this could be our new spot.” Luke speaks softly, almost in a scared whisper, as if he fears that you’ll reject him.
(You don’t know if you could ever reject Luke)
Your eyebrows furrow. “Our spot?” Confusion drips off of your words.
Luke nods once. He licks over his lips and you’re quick to peel your eyes away from the sight and back to his eyes. That’s not helping you much either so you instead try to figure out what books are on the shelves afar.
Since the little amount of time that has passed, there have been a few more added. From the ones that have already been there, the titles are too far away, too dream disoriented, and your dyslexia hasn’t escaped this dream, but you think you find novels on Seeing. Guides on how to decipher the visions that come to humans, or how to channel them.
You focus back on Luke.
“Yeah. Like the old bedroom. But a little more …” he hesitates to find the word then lands on, “Casual.”
The bedroom.
Your lower stomach stirs at the mention of it. The large bed, how warm it always was in there, the cold leather of the couch, the things the two of you did to each other on all surfaces.
This spot is definitely a lot more casual. You’re not instantly compelled to straddle Luke here, although you do have a few thoughts about throwing your legs over his right now and reconnecting in ways you’ve missed since he left.
So badly do you want to agree. This could be the one place where you get to experience what you’ve been missing without anyone else knowing. This is the only place where you can see Luke without anyone else knowing.
But it’s wrong.
He’s the cause of all of this. He’s caused the nightmares you’ve been pulled into. He has betrayed everyone on levels you could have never imagined. And who’s to say that he won’t betray you again.
“We won’t need a ‘spot’, Luke.” Briefly, his eyes flash as if he’s hurt but in your eyes, Luke has proven himself to be a formidable actor as of late so you ignore it. “This is a one time thing.”
A moment passes. And then another.
You turn to watch the sea out in the distance. It appears as if the ocean has lulled for the time being. The sky is still dark, but it has yet to deepen in color.
Luke takes a breath and you give him your attention again.
“Why won’t you join me?”
His eyes flash betrayal, his lips twist into something sorrowful.
Your answer comes easy. The same one you’ve told yourself over and over again, night by night when you considered reaching out to him.
“Because it’s not right, Luke.”
When he stands, his newfound power becomes even more clear. It leaks from his pores, spews from his mouth with his words.
“How could it be ‘wrong’ when you feel the same. All that time you spent telling me about your father. How neglected you felt. What happened to that?”
Your head shakes. You stand, too, evening out the field for both of you.
“This is not what I meant. I–” The words don’t find you. Luke takes notice.
“You what? Love your father? Love the gods? After how they treat you. How they treat us.”
“Don’t say ‘us’. We aren’t together, Luke.”
That same look flashes in his eyes once more. He takes a step forward, you take one back.
He doesn’t say anything. You watch his hand reach behind his back.
“What, are you gonna fight me like you did with Percy?”
His head shakes. His eyes harden. He pulls his hand back and it comes up empty.
“He attacked first.”
Your voice starts to rise. “And you tried to kill him, Luke. He’s twelve. What don’t you understand about that? ”
“Twelve and a forbidden child. In the grand scheme of things, his age doesn’t matter. He’s powerful. More powerful than both of us combined.”
“So is that why you tried to kill him? Because he’s a threat?”
“I don’t want to have this conversation with you. Not here. Not now.”
“Yeah? Well then when? And where? Because this is the last time you’ll be seeing me, Luke.”
“Okay.”
Your eyebrows raise. Disbelief paints over your features. You’d expected more of a fight. For Luke to disagree or attempt to convince you to return to him a few more times after this. Maybe that’s what you wanted. Maybe you wanted him to convince you that you needed him. Maybe you wanted to hear him tell you that he needed you.
Either way, your reply is the same as his.
“Okay.” You turn and take the few steps it takes to get to the door.
Your chest heaves with large gulps of air in and small breaths of letting them out. Your body is buzzing, the same feeling you would get before sparring with Luke. The same feeling you would get before your bodies joined together.
You tell yourself to reach out for the door handle. You tell yourself to lift your arm, connect your hand with the metal, and pull it open. You tell yourself to return to your own dreamscape, maybe even reality, and forget any of this ever happened.
Maybe you would’ve done it if Luke hadn’t spoken.
“You can walk out that door but that won’t change how you truly feel.”
He doesn’t add on. You don’t move.
“And how do I feel?”
The adrenaline is overwhelming you. You need to expel it out of your body somehow.
As Luke is speaking, you’re already approaching him.
“I’m sure I don’t need to answer that for you.”
When he speaks, it’s with arrogance. His confidence is heavily laced in his words, overflowing until it drips out into the air and lodges in your chest. Running through your body and down to your fingertips. It annoys you, makes you want to battle it out with him in a fight you’re sure to lose.
Your feet thud against the floor with each step until you’re close enough to cup his cheeks in both of your hands and pull his face down to yours.
There’s no hesitation in the kiss from either side. As if both of you were expecting it to happen eventually.
Luke kisses you back vehemently, his lips messily sliding against yours as he presses into the center of your back, accentuating the curve and drawing your chest into his. His free hand glides down your side to your hips. He circles to your back, dragging his palm down to rest over the curve of your ass. He grips the flesh through the soft fabric of your shorts, digging his blunt nails in before continuing his hand—open palmed—down to grip the back of your thigh.
His other hand mirrors his previous actions until he has a hand on either thigh. He tugs once, and you collaborate to wrap your legs around his waist and hook your ankles behind his back. Your hands dig into his hair, and your core tightens as you prepare to continue holding yourself up. But Luke takes most of the load.
He places his hands on your bottom to keep you lifted. You expect him to walk you back to the couch, or maybe pin you to a wall. But he doesn’t.
He holds you against him in the center of the living room, kissing you like he’ll never get to kiss you again. You don’t fail to realize how he likely won’t.
His tongue slides against yours, your teeth knock together at least twice, both of you refuse to pull away to breathe which results in heavy exhales through your noses against the skin of the other cheek.
While it may be uncoordinated, it’s not primal.
There’s copious amounts of longing beneath each pass of your tongues against each other. There’s human emotion behind the way you tug on his hair and how he uses one hand to pull your hips closer to him. There’s raw longing in the soft sighs and gasps you both let out into the other’s mouth, taking it in and replicating the noises over and over again.
When you finally do part, it’s with a wet, pronounced smack.
“Luke,” you gasp his name before you can realize it’s happening. One of your hands moves from his hair to hold his cheek. Your fingers spread around his ear and your thumb probes into his jaw.
He hums, his eyes still shut.
“I want you,” you admit.
You watch the smile spread across his lips, his eyes flickering open to look into your soul.
“Took you long enough to admit it.”
You suck your teeth and roll your eyes. Your other hand, previously resting on his shoulder, slaps his bicep.
“Don’t be an asshole about it.”
He laughs as he apologizes, knocking his forehead against yours. “Sorry, pretty girl.”
He takes a moment.
When he speaks, his eyes are nothing but earnest. His words are slow and careful, despite how simple they are. They fill your chest with warmth. They comfort you, possibly in slight delusion as you instantly believe him without caring about what repercussions his promise could come with.
“You have me. Always have. Always will.”
You’re quick to surge forward.
Luke is quick to reciprocate.
This time, he walks you back to the couch. He settles you on it carefully, not lifting his hands from your bottom until you’re seated securely along the loveseat and pulled to the edge by his hands hooked under your knees.
His own knees dig into the rug beneath the furniture. His head is tipped up to continue kissing you, this one lacking the over enthusiasm from before. Now, he takes his time, having confessed his desire to be with you as long as you’ll let him.
It’s not long until he pulls away and trails his lips down, kissing along your decollete, not stopping when he comes in contact with the fabric of your small shirt. He presses his lips into the fabric firmly, as if he’s trying to reach your skin beneath the layer.
You feel the pressure he has beneath each kiss as he trails down, and you arch into his touch, excitement spreading through your lower half whenever Luke digs his fingers into the elastic of your shorts and pulls them off of your legs before he even reaches there.
You’re quick to leave your legs open, even going as far as to spread them a little more to give Luke more room.
His wide shoulders fill the space. They nudge against your knees and instead of letting you spread your legs even more, he throws them over his shoulders, effectively caging himself in with your limbs.
If the small smile on his face is anything to go by, he’s happy about his position.
You’re still wearing your panties. Your hands trail down to get rid of them, but Luke stops you with a hand on your lower abdomen.
“Let me,” he tells you, voice soft and light.
You remove your hands and do as told. It’s a simple system you have worked out, Luke slowly but surely working his way down to where you want him. He's eager, and you know he wants himself there as much as you do.
It’s strange what desire could make you do.
You’ve never been anything but loyal to Camp Half-Blood. To both of your parents. And in normal circumstances, you wouldn’t allow yourself to do this.
But you’ll simply have a final time with Luke. That’s it. Sharing your body with him, and having his body shared with you, won’t make you forget his transgressions.
As your panties are pulled off of your legs, and your skin is once again placed above the thick fabric on the shoulders of his sweatshirt, you tell yourself that this won’t change anything.
You’ll never be able to forget what he has done. What he’s planning to do.
Except, perhaps, you can push it aside for as long as you’ll have to while you let yourself get lost in his touch.
The first pass of his tongue is a long stripe between your folds. He spreads you open with his thumbs, pulling at the skin on either side to expose your center. Then he flattens his tongue and licks up from your entrance to your clit.
He puckers his lips, sucking twice before flicking his tongue against the bud.
Your hands card through his hair, ignoring the way your fingers get stuck on a few stubborn curls that refuse to separate in favor of grounding yourself. It feels too good, and you haven’t been in this position for too long. There’s nothing you fear more right now than getting too lost and waking up in the real world before you’re even satisfied.
Luke brings his attention back down to your entrance where he laps up what you’ve been leaking. He groans, peeling his mouth away and you stare down at him, entranced by how grateful he looks.
Eyes closed, face completely relaxed, his scar laid flat against his cheek, his pink lips parted and glistening.
He looks ethereal. The sight is addicting.
“Missed this so much,” he admits, tongue flickering out to lick the remnants of your arousal off of his lips.
You feel the same, but you refuse to tell him that. Instead, you scrape your nails at his scalp lightly and shuffle your hips, hoping that alone is enough to capture Luke’s attention again.
Either he catches the memo or he had the same idea as you because his lips are right back between your legs.
You’d expected him to behave like a man starved, licking and sucking your cunt like you would disappear any moment. Instead, he takes his time with you. He utilizes the best part about being in a dreamscape: the lack of concrete time.
He savors the taste of your cunt, and the little sounds you make. His fingers press into the tops of your thighs as he holds them down against his shoulders to prevent you from squirming. His nose nudges against your clit and digs into the short hair you have on your mound.
He presses his tongue everywhere that he can, sometimes even sliding further down to rim areas still unexplored. Each time, you would tense up just a little less, until eventually you were trying to subtly urge his head further down for him to do it just one more time.
And when he does, that’s when the coil in your lower belly gets as tight as it could get, just before snapping from the tension. You would have warned him. Or, maybe you did. You were so focused on getting there that any words that came out of your mouth weren’t even considered. You weren’t aware of anything other than your mouth moving at the same speed as your hips as you dragged your cunt against Luke’s face, using him to guide your orgasm to full completion.
As soon as your hips stop twitching you swing your legs off of his shoulders and slide to the floor beside him. You pull your shirt off, then do the same for Luke, throwing both of your tops off to the side.
Unsurprisingly, he’s not wearing another layer beneath the sweatshirt, allowing you to run your palms down his chest, feeling the familiar definition along his abdomen.
You sit in front of him with your legs folded underneath you, and since he’s on his haunches, he towers over you just a bit. You have to tilt your head up to kiss at his jaw and neck, your hands busying themselves with urging his sweatpants off of his hips.
Luke does the rest of the job for you, hesitantly pulling away from your touch to stand and slide his sweatpants off of his legs himself. You’re left on the ground, hands politely resting in your lap while you stare up at Luke with wide eyes.
He slowly reveals more and more of his legs until he’s wearing nothing but his briefs. They hug him well, like they always have. A prominent outline of the muscle definition in his thighs, elastic waistband hanging low enough on his hips for you to see the ‘V’ that connects his hips and abdomen. And of course, the tight material reveals the prominent boner confined within the crotch of his briefs.
You want to reach up and palm him. You want to pull the final layer off of him. You want to take his cock into your mouth and relax with the heavy and warm feeling of him against your tongue.
But you decide to be patient. And it’s worth it.
Luke slides his briefs off himself, never breaking eye contact with you as he throws them to join the rest of your clothing. His stare is strong and heavy as he spits into his hand and puts his dick into the same place, wrapping his palm around the center of it and stroking a few times.
There’s the prettiest, most picturesque bead of precum at the tip and you’re practically salivating just looking at it, praying deep down that Luke doesn’t run his hand over it so you can have it for yourself.
As if sensing your inner turmoil, Luke takes a step closer, holding the base of his cock right in front of your face, allowing you to get the perfect view of how his tip is a light pink around the almost clear drop of precum.
“You want?” he asks you simply, smiling a bit when you nod eagerly. “Then open.”
You’re quick to do as told, lacking any shame whenever you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. As soon as Luke presses his tip to your muscle, you wrap your lips around him and eagerly suck him clean.
Another good thing about the dreamscape is that everything either tastes like absolutely nothing, or like pure honey. And when you’re with Luke, things are usually the latter.
You start to get lost in it, enthusiastically beginning to suck Luke off even though you were only meant to be getting a taste.
You can see that Luke is close to commenting on it. His eyes shine like they do before he has something to say, but just when his lips part and he takes a breath to speak, you hollow your cheeks and sink as far down him as you can and any words he could have conjured up are suddenly gone.
He lets you do what you want, eyes fluttering shut and one large hand cupping the back of your head as you continue to suck him off. He lets out the smallest noises, pretty grunts and groans and sighs.
Luke was clearly just as wound up as you were. Within a couple of minutes he’s already starting to spew out praises like he does when he’s close. Some of them are fragments, broken words strung together in incomplete sentences.
“So … doing so .. you’re–” when you swirl your tongue at the tip and tease his balls just a bit.
“Gods, you’re so good at this,” when you jerk the majority of his dick with one hand and focus your mouth on his tip with the other.
“Close. So close. Almost there, dove” when you take all of him into your mouth once more, throat molding around the definite shape of him.
And when he cums down your throat, you’re so satisfied that you can’t help but moan unabashedly along with him.
You’ve only just swallowed his cum before his cock is pulled out of your mouth and he’s back on his knees in front of you.
His arms wrap around your waist, he pulls you into his lap, laying his head on your chest and just letting himself be.
Just existing.
After a couple of minutes, you stop expecting him to speak and decide to just exist too. Your breathing eventually matches up, in and out, in and out, over and over again in tandem. Outside, rain starts to thud against the roof of the small home. Distantly, there’s the faint sound of thunder, and you’re sure the ocean is swirling angrily.
None of that matters, though. You’ll be left to decipher the metaphorical meanings of it all later, when you aren’t coexisting in the shared warmth from you and Luke.
When he isn’t kissing the tops of your breasts and holding you securely in his arms.
Eventually, Luke does break the silence. His voice is low when he does, both in volume and tone.
“Can I have you? Just one final time?”
He talks into your skin without looking directly at you. But as you start to respond, you cup his cheeks and force him to look at you.
The entire time, you’ve been fighting this battle. Knowing you wanted Luke, knowing you wanted to be with Luke, but also knowing it was wrong. All of it was wrong.
But right here, right now, you let go. You nod unashamedly. You kiss his forehead then the tip of his nose then his lips, before landing on the bottom end of his scar.
You tell him, “Yes. Of course, Luke”, as if he didn’t even have to ask in the first place.
And truthfully, you don’t think he did.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”
Luke is in the middle of pulling his sweatshirt back over his head when you speak. There’s a second where the fabric is hiding his face, slowly revealing the curls at the top of his head, then his dark eyebrows, and finally his eyes. They look as they have the entire time: despondent.
“I know you didn’t. Neither did I.” You have a feeling that neither of you are speaking about the same specific thing, but the overlap in your conditions is so wide that you don’t bother correcting him.
He reaches behind his back once more and when he pulls his hand back around, he has his camp necklace dangling from his fingers. He undoes the knot, and holds it open, waiting, until finally you turn around and let him delicately tie it around your neck.
Your hand touches the beads. You want to thank him, but it doesn’t feel right.
Instead, your lips twist into what you hope comes off as a thankful smile when you turn around. When Luke replicates it, you feel a little better.
There’s a moment, just a brief moment there where you’re both staring at each other and the memory of Luke’s hands and lips and tongue and his everything engrossing you, taking your everything and combining them together, is still fresh on your mind. The warmth of his eyes and the warmth of his camp necklace around your throat heals you. And you consider that your feelings for Luke were stronger than you ever forced yourself to acknowledge.
He was more than a close friend to you. More than someone you looked up to. More than someone you shared your body with in the dreamscape.
He was more.
It feels unfair for you to have these emotions. The wrongness of it all—your feelings for Luke Castellan, how he’d turned out—has rage fueling deep in your gut. With no one else to blame it on, you can’t help but briefly curse the gods.
For they were the ones to cause this. To instill deep hatred into Luke’s chest. To prevent either of you from ever having a normal life where you could live and breathe and love without the burdens placed upon you both.
A life where you wouldn’t have to love and lose someone like Luke.
But there’s nothing for you to do about it now.
You don’t want to leave. But your time together is up. You should’ve left a long time ago, and your choice to stay before resulted in something you could never take back.
You turn and walk to the door. And once more, Luke speaking causes you to stop.
“You are the only one who could make me change my mind.” He says it in a small whisper, as if he doesn’t want to admit it even to himself. As if he shouldn’t be admitting it at all.
‘Are’. His feelings for you still haven’t changed. You don’t know if they ever will.
Either way, you’re forced to change yours.
You don’t know what to say. So you don’t say anything. Your hand reaches for the doorknob. You take it in your palm, gripping and turning at the same time until the latch is undone.
The door opens and fills the room with the sound of rain falling. It’s loud and fills the empty space. Up until Luke speaks and the baritone of his voice joins it.
“This is it?”
You nod once. Luke’s scoff sounds painful. It’s bitter with an edge of hatred. Maybe disbelief.
It makes tears brim at your eyes. Your nose stings. Your throat feels as if it’s constricting with the effort to hold your tears back.
Luke takes a breath. You step one foot out of the door.
“Dreamcatcher,” he calls to get your attention, the nickname giving you that fuzzy feeling you used to get from just seeing him around camp. “We’ll be seeing each other again.”
And then your foot lands on the dry green grass of your own dreamscape.
Just a few hours later, you rise with the morning sun, sneaking off to the showers before everyone else to get rid of the stickiness between your thighs.
The dream might not have been real, but the evidence between your legs certainly was. Strangely enough, that and the additional chord of beads around your neck. You only notice it when you’ve undressed and stepped beneath the shower head, scrubbing at your skin and running into additional jewelry you hadn’t expected to have been there.
You take it off and slip it with the rest of your clothes as a keepsake, carrying it around in your pocket for only you to know about.
* = smut, 18+ only
Keep reading
Holy hands, will they make me a sinner ?
You seem to have a little secret. Regulus figures you out immediately.
regulus black x fem!reader
warnings: smut
“If you bore holes in them I won't be able to finish my essay, Y/n”
His voice brings you back from the apparent state of trance you had unconsciously fallen into. Blinking rapidly, you regain perception of the walls of your dorm room surrounding you and the myriad of books scattered across your bed. You shift your gaze to his gray eyes and you find them already set on you.
“Pardon ?” your voice has a confused edge that almost makes him chuckle.
“My hands” he explains, his tone as neutral as ever “You were staring”
Your eyes go a little wide, like you had been caught stealing the last chocolate frog of the stash. You swallow, trying to compose yourself as best as you can.
“I was doing no such thing” you declare, a bit too solemn and defensive to be the truth.
Regulus pins you with an unimpressed look, his left brow arching just enough to tell you that he isn't buying any of your bullshit.
A defeated sigh leaves your lips.
It is no use hiding something from Regulus Black. He will find out one way or another, and you got caught right with your hands in the jar.
“Ok, fine” you admit, lifting your shoulders to make it seem like the most casual thing ever “I was looking at your hands”
Regulus’ expression doesn't change, but the glint of amusement flashing in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed.
“More like ogling, I would say” even his tone has a playful bite to it.
You like this side of him. The Regulus who is able to relax a bit and let go when he is surrounded by the people he is comfortable with.
But carefree Regulus also means menace Regulus apparently.
“I wasn't ogling” you grumble, rolling your eyes “I was just admiring them”
His eyebrows furrow.
“Why ?” he seems intrigued as the question leaves his lips.
Why, he has the courage to ask.
Well the answer is that Regulus Black has the prettiest, hottest, most gorgeous hands you have ever laid eyes on.
They are elegant, slender, the little veins underneath the pale skin gracing your eyes with their presence with every movement he makes, every flex of his muscles, producing a delicious design that hypnotizes you.
They are smooth but decorated by light calluses, undoubtedly caused by Quidditch, that create a divine contrast with his otherwise untainted skin.
His fingers are long, lean, clad in silver rings that make your mouth water with how exquisitely sultry they make him look.
And suddenly, but not surprisingly, you find yourself imagining what it would feel like to have those hands on you, exploring every inch of your body, dancing on your skin like flames dance in the cold hair of the night. The cool metal of his rings being at odds with your scorching hot skin, making you hiss as his skilled fingers create a burning path over your body, traveling everywhere. Your legs, your thighs, your hips, chest, shoulders and stopping right at your neck, wrapping delicately, reverentially around it. Worshipping the sensitive skin, feeling the erratic pulse of your heart and-
“You’re doing it again” his words interrupt your spiraling for the second time that day, sounding dry and apathetic as always, but a hint of teasing twinkles in the otherwise coldness of his eyes.
“You have nice hands, that’s all” you manage to say without giving away all the less than pure thoughts flooding your mind in that moment. “From an artist point of view, obviously” you add, shrugging, trying to make everything less than obvious.
You really hope Regulus didn't learn to cast a Legilimes in his free time, otherwise you were well and truly screwed.
Bringing up your passion for drawing is futile and you know it. You know he knows the drooling over his hands isn't for the sake of art. You can't fool Regulus Black, not even if you try to.
Which is both extremely annoying and criminally hot in your humble opinion.
But pretending is the only thing you can do to not feel embarrassed, holding onto the hope that maybe he doesn’t have you all figured out.
“So you’re saying that your interest is purely artistic ?” he cocks a brow as his head tilts slightly.
There’s something in his voice, in his eyes, that you can’t quite figure.
Your forehead scrunches in confusion.
“Yes, of course” you answer, trying to hide the stutter of your voice as best you can.
You are pretty sure he knows that you aren’t telling the truth, he somehow always knows. He reads you like an open book, and, for someone who doesn’t engage in showing his emotions too often, he is pretty damn good at reading the ones of others.
So why that question ? You almost expected him to tell you to cut it out and get back to study because that essay isn’t gonna finish itself.
This is new, unexpected.
Interesting.
“Would you like to draw them ?”
Your eyes go wide in surprise.
Wait.
What ?
Never, in all the years you have known each other, had he offered to model for you.
He knew about you having an interest in arts, he even saw a couple of your drawings and paintings and he often asked about them and how they were coming up, but he never asked to be in them.
You never brought up the suggestion either. He is a reserved guy and he loathes having eyes on him, so you figured he would’ve never accepted even if you did.
That never stopped you from sketching him from afar, though. Those gorgeous features deserve to be portrayed.
But why the sudden proposition ?
You aren’t stupid. Regulus might know you like the back of his hand, but you could say the same about him. And this, whatever this might be, is not like him at all.
Regulus never does anything for nothing, there is always an explanation, a reason to his every move. You think even his breaths are perfectly calculated.
But this time the why gets lost on you, and the harder you try to understand the less it all makes sense.
“I can see the gears in your brain twinsting and turning,” he says, calm and composed as ever.
He is sitting on your bed, the quill he was using to write his Charms paper now abandoned next to him. His back is perfectly straight, leaning on the headbord to support his weight. The raven strands of his hair create soft waves that frame his face in a delicate and enchanting way. His lips are stretched in a rare, playful smile, curling up slightly on the left side.
He is beautiful. Dangerously so.
“It’s just-” you are confused, there is no doubt about that, but most of all you are intrigued “You have never asked me before”
“I know”
That’s his only answer. Simple, concise. Enigmatic.
Just like him.
“So why now ?”
The question escapes your lips before you can stop it. You can’t help it, curiosity is consuming you, and the possibility of learning a new part of him makes your skin tingle with excitement.
“Why not ?” he shrugs “There is a first time for everything, right ? So why not now ?”
There is still that glint of something in his eyes. You don’t know what it is, you don’t think you would be able to give it a name even if you knew, but it's there, and it’s strong.
“I’ll get my supplies then”
You slowly get up from the bed, feeling your heart in your throat in a mix of anticipation and nervousness, and you retrieve your album and a pencil.
When you sit back down you notice that the books have been neatly stacked in a small pile next to your bed and all the papers, previously scattered all over your sheets, are nowhere to be seen.
“Figured we might need the space” he says, like he read your mind.
“Thank you”, you give him a small smile before opening your album, turning the pages one by one, until you find a blank sheet, ready to be filled.
“Where do you need me ?”
The way he utters those words with the utmost nonchalance, apparently unaware of the effect they have on you, nearly sends you into cardiac arrest.
Everywhere, you think, before mentally smacking yourself.
You need to get a grip, for Merlin’s sake.
“Right there is fine,” you're able to say without your voice faltering “just angle your hands towards me, so the light is right”
He does as he is told, adjusting his position and moving his hands a bit to the right, veins in full display and rings shining under the warm rays of the sunset seeping through the window.
“That’s good” your mouth is suddenly dry as you gulp at that sight.
He is a bit far, and the light doesn’t hit as perfectly as you had expected, but you’ll work with it. If squinting your eyes a bit is the price to maintain your mental sanity then so be it.
Then you start drawing. The only sound filling the room is the gentle scraping of your pencil as your eyes focus on the white sheet in front of you, your gaze shifting to his hands ever so often to take a peek at them, like you haven't learnt every detail by heart.
You can feel his eyes on you. You try not to focus on it, but the shivers those pools of the color of a summer storm send down your spine are difficult to ignore.
“You’re straining your eyes” he blurts out of the blue. And it’s not a question.
Observant as always.
“It’s fine,” you assure him, your gaze never leaving the paper “this distance is good for perspective”
“But it’s a problem for the lighting”
Those words make you lift your head up, your brows knotted in a frown.
How does he-
“And what would you know about the lighting ?” you eye him suspiciously, a small grin curving your lips.
“I guess all your rambles about that muggle painter weren’t in vain” he says, and there’s a cheekiness in his tone that is completely new to you “Caravaggio, right ?”
Your grin turns into a full smile.
“Right,” you nod, your eyes widening a little “I can’t believe you actually remember”
“I remember a lot of things,” he remarks defensively.
“Only those important enough to you” the teasing in your voice is light, playful, as your pencil glides on the sheet swiftly, adding strokes and shadows here and there.
There’s a beat of silence.
One second. Two. Three. And then-
“Exactly”
Your hand halts every movement, freezing completely. You look up from your paper and you find his gaze already on you.
Suddenly you are lost. Your heart is beating so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if he was actually able to hear it.
The implications of that single word swirl in your brain, creating a hurracane of thoughts that almost gives you whiplash.
He doesn’t give you the time to even think properly about what he may have just suggested, because he decides to speak again.
“I can come closer if you need me to” his voice is lower, deeper, oozing with that same something he’s had in his eyes since he caught you staring at his heavenly hands.
You want to scream. You have no idea of what the hell is going on and it’s confusing the shit out of you.
You know he is asking for that forsaken drawing you still have in your lap, but it somehow doesn’t feel like it. The electricity in the room is so high it feels like an open cable sending sparks flying everywhere, setting the air on fire.
The only coherent thought in your brain is a chorus of yes, please and nothing else.
So you cave.
“You can,” you manage to say, because the necessity to protect your sanity might be strong, but the need to have him close to you is apparently stronger “if you want to”
His gaze is so penetrating you feel it in your soul, consuming you from the inside out and setting your whole body ablaze.
It’s compelling, hypnotizing even.
“This is not about what I want, Y/n”
Oh, the way those words leave his perfect lips, making shudders erupt all over your body should be studied.
Your world shifts on its axes and it starts spinning ten times faster. Because he knows.
He knows.
“We're not talking about art anymore, are we ?” you ask, swallowing soundly as your breath gets stuck in your throat.
“Were we ever talking about that in the first place ?” his question is rhetorical. He doesn’t need an answer because he already knows it. He figured you out, like he always does.
So what was the point in pretending anymore ?
“No,” you admit “I guess we weren't” your trambling hands move the paper out of the way.
There is a spark in his eyes. It’s foreign, thrilling even, and it makes your skin prickle in the best way.
Suddenly he moves. He shifts his weight forward, approaching you slowly. The veins in his arms and hands bulging from the pressure and knocking the air out of your lungs in the process.
“So tell me” he whispers, crawling to you bit by bit, like a hunter advancing towards his prey. He seems to be calm, poised, totally in control of his body as he comes closer and closer.
It’s his eyes that betray him.
They have always been the window to his feelings, talking more than his mouth even did. And right now they are burning, engulfed by a heat that makes your legs weak and your heart roar. The realization hits you, a rush of adrenaline running through your veins.
They are hungry.
“Tell you what ?” you stutter, unable to regain a hold of yourself. You can’t breathe, your palms are sweaty, you feel hot all over and he is close, so damn close.
He stops right in front of you, mere inches between your faces and a tension so heavy you can cut it with a butter knife.
“What you want” the warmth of his breath delicately caresses your skin. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, his eyes following the movement intently almost making you squirm under his gaze.
“You seem to know what I want” you murmur breathlessly, your body heating up in response to his proximity.
Those hands, protagonists of some of the filthiest dreams you’ve ever had, are right next to you. Close enough to graze the skin of your thighs with his knuckles, but never indulging in the act. Like he is teasing you, waiting for you to beg for it. You shift your gaze to them and you swallow hard, the need to feel them on you growing stronger every second that passes.
You are about to fucking combust.
His silver eyes are still fixed on you, intense and magnetic, as they follow your line of sight.
“I won't move a muscle unless you tell me to, Y/n”
Those words, mouthed so close to your lips and mixed with the low, velvet-like husk of his voice, make your legs clench and your stomach churn in the best way possible.
You can’t take it anymore.
You move forward, abandoning your position on the bed to place your legs on each side of his hips, almost straddling him. Your hands are on his shoulders, helping you to keep your balance, feeling the lean muscles underneath the shirt as you hover over him.
His head tilts up, eyes sharp and hot and glued to yours. You hear him suppress a hiss as your thighs brush his hips. His arms are still next to him, hands gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turn white.
He is restraining himself. From touching you.
Your thoughts are clouded, your mind hazy and completely out of it. The only thing you want right now is for him to place those perfect fucking hands on you and never stop.
“Do it” your voice is so weak and breathy it’s a miracle he hears you.
“Do what ?” he mouths, so close to your lips it makes your head spin.
You’re needy, desperate even, but you don’t care. You don’t have time to think right now. You want to feel.
“Touch me” you beg.
“Where ?” he sounds just as gone as you are, and you finally crumble.
“Everywhere”
It’s nothing more than a whisper but it shakes the both of you like an earthquake.
You meet in the middle, your lips colliding and completely knocking the breath out of you.
His mouth is sinful, greedy, chasing yours with a hunger that almost makes you melt on the spot. You get lost in the softness of it, in the ungodly brush of your tongues making you moan breathlessly. You bite and nibble and lick and he follows you, matching the languid pace just as eagerly, as your hands tangle in his hair, pulling at the black strands delicately. The low groan that escapes his throat sends goosebumps all over you.
You are so focused on the filthy dance of your mouths that you almost miss the agonizingly slow graze of his fingers on the exposed flesh of your legs, gently tracing a path on your thighs.
The metal of his rings meets the hotness of your skin and you hiss.
Oh, it’s just as delicious as you imagined.
“Ah- fuck” you pant, millimeters away from him. Your head feels light, dizzy.
You feel like you’re dreaming, lost in your own fantasies.
But his hands running up and down your thighs feel too fucking good to be just a product of your imagination. They travel slowly, excruciatingly so, making you lose your mind with every new inch of skin they explore.
Until they sneak under your skirt, reaching your hips to gently knead the supple skin, applying enough force to bring you forward.
“Sit” It feels more like a plea than an order but-
Holy shit.
A gasp escapes your mouth before you can stop it.
Every cell of your body threatens to explode as he pushes your weight on him all the way, making you straddlle him completely.
“Fucking finally” he curses, more to himself than to you, like he has been waiting for this moment his whole life.
His eyes are dark, fogged up by lust and need, and it's the lewdest thing you have ever witnessed.
“I have never seen you like this” you whisper directly on his lips, nibbling on the plush flesh.
He smirks, smirks for Salazar's sake, as his fingers move, reprising their mission to make you lose every ounce of control.
“It seems you were busy looking at something else”
His thumbs rub the skin of your inner thigh in a hypnotizing manner, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.
You whimper as they get closer and closer to your core, your grip on the junction between his neck and shoulder tightening in pleasure.
But he must take it as some sort of sign of discomfort because he halts suddenly.
“Want me to stop ?” his eyes search for yours, the veiled concern in them making your heart stutter.
“Don’t you even dare” you say, a mere breath away from him before you dive in, capturing his mouth again.
It's messy and dirty and you get addicted to his taste way too quickly.
His hands move up, massaging your skin at every caress of your tongues, until they reach the hem of your panties.
He moves away from your lips for a quick moment, and he looks at you.
The silent ‘Can I ?’ written in his eyes almost makes you swoon.
You nod your head.
“I need words, chérie” he whispers sensually.
The combination of his right hand so close to your most sensitive spot, his left one traveling up to your hip, holding it tightly, posessivly, and that fucking pet name almost make you cum on the spot.
“Yes” you practically beg.
Only then he resprises his journey of exquisit torture along your body.
“Shit-” you quiver as he kisses your neck, branding the sensitive skin with his lips and teeth. His hands move, fingers skilled and sinful as they reach your heat.
You mewl as they make contact with the light material of your underwear.
“Jesus Christ” hs hisses a groan “you’re soaked”
A series of choked out whimpers leaves your lips as he strokes his fingers over your panties, feeling your wetness through the fabric.
“Fuck- Reg” a moan ripples from your lips when his thumb brushes your clit tentativley, making you gasp. Your hands fly to his hair, lightly pulling the soft strands with trembling fingers.
“Look at you, all horny and needy over my hands” his voice is tantalizing but you can hear the breathlessness, the strain in it. He is affected by this just as much as you are and it makes you go almost feral.
“Please” you breathe. You don’t even know what you’re begging for. Your mind is too hazy, too fogged up by lust and need to have a single coherent thought in it.
But he sure does know, because his digits move your panties to the side, just enough to glide over your slickness, making contact with the tender skin of your folds and spreading your wetness all over.
Finally, finally the hands consuming your every thought are on you, right where you had craved and imagined them the most.
You arch your back in ecstasy, biting your lip.
And it’s when his middle finger eases inside of you, slowly breaching your velvety walls, that you lose it completely.
The air gets knocked out of your lungs, liquid fire engulfs every cell of your body, every nerve and muscle consumed by pleasure.
“Regulus-” it’s the only thing you manage to mewl as he slides in and out of you in a rhythm so sensual and sultry it makes you melt. The cold metal of his ring meets the warm, sensitive skin of your cunt with every prod, creating a delicious contrast.
You never break eye contact, your gazes locked together drinking in every little detail, every wave of bliss swimming in them.
“Is this what you fantasized about, love ?” he pants right on your lips “All the times I caught you staring, is this what you were imagining my hands doing ? Fucking you senseless, feeling how tight and needy you are ?”
His words are as dirty as his eyes as he slides another finger into you, making you inhale sharply and stretching you out so good you could almost cry.
“Ohmygodyes” you moan as your hips start moving to their own accord, meeting the prodding of his fingers eagerly, riding his hand like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do.
“But this is not the only fantasy you have, right chérie ?” he teases, going faster, harder, pumping mercilessly and leaving you a blubbering mess.
His left hand leaves its place on your hip and moves up, grazing the soft skin of your stomach, the supple and tender flesh of your breasts, the natural dip of your collarbones, worshipping every inch of your skin in their path, until they reach their goal.
“I bet you thought about this too, didn't you ?”
You were always sure this would remain just one of your daydreams, the kind of dirty thought that should remain in your mind and nowhere else. But Regulus Black was Regulus Black and reading you was one of his favorite hobbies.
It still comes as a surprise, though, when he delicately wraps his hand around your throat, resting it there, feeling every pulse of your heart, every pump of your blood and adorning your neck with the prettiest fucking necklace you could ever ask for.
“Yes” it’s nothing more than a breath, but it sends him into a frenzy. His right thumb rubs your clit relentlessly, adding to the unforgiving pace of his fingers sliding in and out of you with lewd, wet squelches. The whimpers coming out of your mouth are raw, filthy and downright pornographic as you feel your orgasm approaching.
Your head is in the clouds, a hundred thousands miles from earth as the only thing you can focus on is the feeling of his hands on you, fucking you to your release as the one on your neck squeezes the faintest bit, enough to almost send you over the edge.
His left thumb leaves its place right above your jugular, moving upwards to caress your jawline, your cheek and, lastly, your lips.
You can feel the digit caressing the red, bitten flesh, brushing it with reverence, worshiping it with his whole being. His heated gaze is bewitched, entranced by your mouth parting, welcoming him past your lips, and lightly grazing the pad with your teeth, before enveloping it wholly, letting him feed you the taste of his finger.
“Bloody fucking hell, Y/n” he rasps, voice low and dangerously close to pleading as you suck on his thumb like it's the tastiest treat you have ever put in your mouth.
The hand on your cunt speeds its pace, pounding in and out of you like a fucking machine, the vibrations on your little bundle of nerves getting more intense by the second, sending you over the edge in a mess of moans and whimpers.
“Reg, fuck, I'm-”
You reach your release with his name on your lips, back arched and hips rolling to help you ride your orgasm on those unholy fingers of his.
Your vision is blurred, your brain fuzzy and overwhelmed by bliss as you slowly come back to your senses.
It takes you a few seconds to regain control of your body and mind, but when you do you are graced with a vision you are sure you will never forget.
The ever composed and collected Regulus Black is right in front of you with his expression contorted in pure lust, eyes bleary and unfocused, hair tousled by your hands relentlessly stroking them, lips red and glossy from the heated kisses, tie loose, crooked and shirt crumpled.
He is a mess.
The hottest mess you have ever seen.
You're still not fully out of your head space when he speaks again.
“You're loud” he grins, his tone teasing but still a little raspy.
“You're filthy” you bite back weakly, your voice hoarse and strained.
“Maybe. But I don’t think I'm the only one”
The fingers that have been inside of you not even a moment ago are now in front of you, coated and glistening with your essence.
He slowly brings them closer to your mouth, and you don't even think twice before eagerly welcoming them inside it.
The taste of yourself mixes with the metallic tinge of his rings as you suck leisurely, restraining a moan before he takes them out with a wet pop.
“Sale fille” he groans in french, lowly and right on your parted lips, before he dives in an alluring kiss. (Dirty girl)
It's slower than all the others you shared, but it's deeper, sensual and it almost gets you worked up all over again.
His tongue meets yours in a erotic dance and when the taste of your very essence coats his tastebuds a moan rumbles in his throat.
“You're sweet” his voice is nothing more than a whisper as his teeth nibble at your lower lip gently.
“Want me to find out if you're sweet, too ?” You offer with a teasing smile on your lips . His hands might be your biggest fantasy, but they sure as hell are not the only part of him you fantasize about.
“Eager, are we ?” he teases playfully, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “Not today, chérie”
The little pet name creates butterflies in your stomach and makes your cheeks warm, but doesn't hide your disappointment.
“Why ?” you ask, your hands going to fiddle with his tie.
“As I told you, this is not about what I want” he explains, his arms circling you in a loose hug “and I don't know if you noticed, but it's pretty late”
You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, and only then you realize that the sun has already set and the room would be totally surrounded by darkness if it wasn't for the few magic candles lighting up automatically when twilight hits.
Your eyes widen.
“How long have we been here for ?” your voice has a panicked hint to it, making Regulus laugh.
“I'm pretty sure dinner is getting served right now” he says nonchalantly, like it's the most normal thing ever to engage in sexual activities with your best friend and miss supper because of it.
“Which might be for the best,” he adds.
“Why ?” you ask in genuine confusion.
“Because I’m the only one lucky enough to hear your dirty little sounds” he says with a shit-eating grin before kissing you again.
Thank you for reading 💖
i need hobie brown smut i can’t find any 😭🙏 hes a rockstar so i’m pretty sure those fingers are …. 😍😍
practice — hobie brown. longer name. hobie using your pussy for band practice. they areeee tho. god.
he’d be sitting on a comfy chair or couch, legs spread (of course), and he’d be ushering you over by a slight backwards tilt to his head. thinking all is innocent you walk over, bouncing onto the couch beside him. hobie immediately grabs your legs which had bent slightly together, as he straightens them over his lap, his large hands practically wrapping around both calves (they are big enough, yes).
“how’d practice go?” you ask, shifting to get slightly more comfortable. “I could practically hear your guitar from a million rooms down — ” but your words drift off upon feeling his hands glide up your leg, coming to a stop by your bare thighs (you being in a skirt). you intake air as hobie yanks you closer to him by your thighs, slightly spreading them in the process.
you’re now practically draped over him having to push up slightly on your elbows as you stare at him from lower on the couch. “it was alrigh’…” his hand began to lead under your skirt all while keeping eye contact with your fluttering eyes. “if ya heard it that far away, then mission accomplished.” your breathing hitches as hobie’s ringed fingers disappear under your skirt, away from your vision, as he slowly brushes over your covered pussy, making your hips jolt.
“but apparently I need practice…” he hums, beginning to draw patterns over your clit as your chest begins to heave. “my fingers need to be quicker to get a certain tempo…” now he’s moving your panties aside as he slides the tips of his fingers through your wetness. “thanks, babe…ya all prepared for me.”
and then he’s thrusting two long fingers into your cunt making your breathing hitch as your hips shift. “hobie…”
“mm…” he watches as his fingers go in and out your pretty hole. “ya can help me get better…righ’?” his thrusts are moving quicker now, as his other hand keeps your thighs spread apart. “let me know if my speed is improving.” you’re now a whimpering mess as your head knocks back, his thrusts now at an ungodly pace as his thumb moves to rub circles on your clit.
“no no…i need to you to see. to let me know how i’m doing…” his free hand moved to pull your chin back. “watch.” your pussy is clenching around his fingers, as the speed makes your entire body hum, his thumb somehow flicking your clit perfectly. and as your orgasm crashes over you, hobie hums to himself, slowing the pace a fraction, but not pulling out.
“see…i’m already getting better…you really are helping me improve…” his thrusts quicken up again, making you whine in overstimulation. “shh…this technique is working…i can’t stop my practice now…”
© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.
this is a collection of all my one shots. more will be added as i continue to write. requests are closed!
[ key: ]
🌷 ≈ fluff
🍑 ≈ smut
🌪️ ≈ angst
💻 ≈ work in progress
!LATEST! — from the flames | b. blake 💻🍑
•finnick odair•
— the five stages » 🌪️
— hungry eyes » 🍑
— love(rs) and war » 🍑
— what friends do » 🍑🌷
— lionfish, seahorses, and dolphins, oh my! » 🌷
— beautiful mess » 🌷🌪️
— two souls, one heart » 🌪️
— nsfw alphabet » 🍑
— flower therapy » 🌪️🌷
— bad idea, right? » 🍑🌪️
— red wine: part 1, part 2, part 3 »🌷🌪️
— forbidden fruit » 🍑
— a darling and a virgin » 🌪️🍑
•bellamy blake•
— from the flames: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 » 💻🍑
— close call » 🍑
— bioluminescence » 🌷
— pretty fixation, wicked temptation » 🍑
•gally (the maze runner)•
— relationship headcanons pt. two » 🌷
— relationship headcanons » 🌷🌪️🍑
• (more characters to be added)•
➵ Regulus Black x reader
➵ summary: The Marauders hold a silent grudge against you for falling in love with the younger Black, until one day everything comes out in an argument, and Sirius has no choice but to find his brother, and see for himself how much he loves you.
➵ word count: 2k
➵ tw: swearing, arguing, panic/ anxiety, slut shaming
➵ a/n: lowkey kinda proud of this? pulled this idea outta my ass while zoning out at work and had to write it as soon as I got home lol. anyway, im on a real writing kick right now I have so many ideassss! happy reading xo MIZ
You never spoke of your relationship to your friends.
They never asked questions when you would leave, saying you had plans, they didn’t approach you when they’d spot you hand in hand in the halls, a bright smile beaming on your face.
But you saw the resentment.
You saw Sirius grit his teeth anytime his name would accidentally slip past your lips.
You saw Remus’ eyes fall when he saw you with him in the courtyard.
You saw James’ fake smile when you’d show him your new jewelry and dresses that he knew you didn’t buy for yourself.
You heard the girls’ disapproving whispers when you’d leave your dorm to meet him.
It broke your heart every time. You wished to be able to talk freely about your love without feeling guilty, you wanted to bring him to your weekly game nights, you wanted to go to Hogsmeade during Christmas with everybody and get butterbeers and giggle as snowflakes clung onto all your eyelashes. You wanted to share that community with him.
But you loved Regulus more than any of those things.
Keep reading
finnick odair masterlist
headcanons
honeymoon headcanons
modern dating headcanons
secret dating headcanons
nsfw alphabet*
girl!dad finnick headcanons
hcs on using your safeword with finnick*
finnick x pregnant!reader headcanons
finnick with a little sister headcanons
finnick x fem!reader with a deep voice headcanons
finnick with a partner who has an oral fixation headcanons
finnick is a hoarder
finnick x super shy reader headcanons
aftercare with finnick headcanons*
character analysis on finnick's mental health in mockingjay
finnick x plus sized!reader headcanons
hijacked finnick headcanons
finnick x dom!reader headcanons (sfw)
finnick trying to protect reader during the quarter quell headcanons
finnick with a partner who has postpartum depression headcanons
series:
coming clean
one-shots:
better days are coming (TW). -- summary: after a rough patch, you turn to the unthinkable, but your boyfriend is there to help you through it.
shoreline. -- summary: finnick kisses you in the arena, outing your relationship to the capitol.
reunion.* -- summary: reuniting with your husband could never be sweeter.
dreams.* -- summary: finnick takes care of you after an... inventive dream.
feelings are not facts. -- summary: finnick notices when you stop eating.
birthday. -- summary: finnick stands up for you when your parents keep picking apart your eating habits.
safe and sound. -- summary: finnick hears someone slutshaming you.
bedsheets. -- summary: you leak on the sheets while in bed with finnick.
enter sandman. -- summary: finnick knows just what to do when you can't sleep.
old habits die hard. -- summary: you flinch during an argument with finnick.
interlinked. -- summary: you comfort finnick after a nightmare.
the addams family. -- summary: you and finnick go trick or treating with your daughter
first time for everything.* -- summary: you and finnick try for a baby
good as new (TW). -- summary: finnick helps you after a self-harm relapse
burning the candle at both ends. -- summary: finnick helps you with exam stress
thunderstorms. -- summary: you show up at finnick's house during a thunderstorm in the middle of the night
would you still love me if i was a worm? -- summary: finnick takes care of you after you get your wisdom teeth taken out.
a cross to bear. -- summary: finnick helps you through a binge eating episode
anniversaries.* -- summary: you surprise finnick on your anniversary by wearing a new lingerie set.
good things come to those who wait (TW). -- summary: you tell finnick about your scars.
flattery will get you nowhere.* -- summary: finnick gets you to suck on his fingers when you're being too loud.
drabbles part one, part two
I need more ekko giving head to fem! Reader😫😫 could you include it in an anniversary celebration type of writing? Thank you and lovely regards 💓
⟢ authors note. tysm for using my asks, hope u enjoy!!
⟢ contains. drinking, semi drunk!ekko, lots of kissing, cunnilingus, fingering, praise, slight degration, orgasm, cum eating, dom!ekko.
it was late, the sun had just gone down and the firelights had lit a bombfire in celebration to another successful mission - or more so the fact that they hadn't lost any members of the firelights during it. As drunk firelights were eating and dancing around the big bomb fire, there was ekko - in the corner drinking from his cup and leaning on his arm, his expression neutral and unreadable. "you just plan to sit here all alone?" a familiar voice asked, making ekko look up into your soft eyes with a tired expression. "oh come on, are you really that tired?" you chuckled, pushing one of his locs out of his face to see him better as he sighed, rolling his big brown eyes.
"should I ask what's bothering you?" you asked softly, a small smirk on your face as you sat down next to him on the picnic table, your elbows resting against the table as you watched the other firelights and the bombfire. "I don't know, I just feel like there's too much to do to be celebrating like this..." he sighs, folding his arms as he turned around, facing the bombfire with his back resting against the table. "you're such a leader." you chuckled, softly looking back over at him. "you know you can relax for just one night right?"
he looked over at you, you felt his eyes look over your body before looking back up to your eyes. "you think I should relax?" He scoffed as you narrowed your eyes at him. "don't scoff at me, I'm worried about you dumbass." you said, playfully shoving his arm as he sighed, "you're right, sorry..." he trailed off, looking back up at you. "wanna get out of here?" he asked, his voice quiet and soft as he looked directly at you. something in your stomach tingled at his direct eye contact, but you didn't let it show too much. "you wanna ditch your own party?" you chuckled a bit, not taking him seriously.
he leaned his head back, some of his hair falling away from his face. "I guess so." he said, a small smirk on his lips as he looked over at you. "I just want a distraction." you bit the inside of your cheek, looking away from him and back at the fire as you were inside your own head. the truth was, you were stressed out too - just because you didn't lose any firelights doesn't mean it wasn't a dangerous and stress provoking mission. you nodded softly, "alright, let's get out of here." you said, looking back over at him, his smirk widening a little bit as he nodding, standing up with you as he led you up the stairs of the treehouse into his room.
as the door shut behind him, he took a sip of his drink, letting out a sigh as you looked over his room. it looked different than you remembered it, more papers and blueprints for firelight gadgets or hoverboard fixes scattered across his work bench and even some hung up on his wall. "you're quite the busy bee." you chuckled, softly running your hands down the papers as you looked them over. he just shrugged, "you haven't been in here in months..." he said softly, his voice getting closer behind you before you felt his hands softly slide down your waist.
you let out a soft, satisfied sigh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder, looking back over at him as his lips connected to your neck, placing small kisses on the sensitive skin. "I guess it's been a little while..." you said softly, tilting your head to the side to give him better access as you felt him smile softly against your skin, his kisses becoming more rough against your neck as he softly bit down on the flesh. you gripped his work bench as he gently pushed his body against the back of yours, his hand gripping your hip and pulling it closer to him as the other rested on your waist. he softly moved some of your hair over as he pulled his head back, admiring the red spots he left on your neck as he rubbed his thumb over them.
you gently looked back at him, watching as he smiled slightly. "I've missed you... I've missed having you like this." he said softly, gently pushing a bit of your hair behind your ear as he leaned into your lips before slowing at the last second. his lips were barely touching yours before you softly leaned in, capturing his lips softly as you brought your hand to his cheek, cupping it in your hand. he smiled into the kiss as he softly pulled you closer by the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he led you towards his bed. the back of your legs hit his bed frame, making you stop as he gently laid you down, hovering over you as he kissed you once more.
"I've missed you too..." you said softly, before kissing him again, his tongue softly pushing into your mouth as you let him. he made out with you a little bit before gently pulling back, taking the hems of his shirt and pulling it over his head, letting it fall to the floor as he softly grabbed your hand and ran your hand down his chest. you looked up at him before your eyes trailed down to his bare chest, you softly reached down to his lower hip, rubbing small circles on his flesh. he smiled down at you before leaning down and kissing on your neck once again, this time the opposite side. "you're so beautiful..." he whispered as you quietly moaned under his touch.
his body leaned down further into yours, he trailed his kisses down from your neck to your collarbone, giving small kisses before gently biting and sucking on the sensitive skin. you leaned your head back, the tingling in your leg and stomach making you squirm slightly under him. he chuckled softly, sliding his thigh between yours as he trailed his hands down, his kisses getting lower and lower on your body.
he trailed down, caressing your bare hips as he placed open mouth kisses on your flesh. he paused at the waistband of your pants, gently rubbing both your hips, "lift." he said lowly, looking up at you softly. you swallowed, nodding as you propped yourself up on your elbows and lifted your hips for him. he softly pulled your pants down, kissing your thighs and down your to your knees before pulling them completely off.
he slid down your panties and tossed them on the floor, leaning down to kiss you, his tongue pushing into your mouth gently. he continued kissing you passionately before softly pulling away and positioning himself between your legs, looking up at you with an intense and lustful gaze. he could feel your legs trembling as he hooked them over his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs possessively. "shh, relax baby..." he smiled softly, pressing soft kisses on your pussy before dragging his tongue up your slit.
you looked down at him, your chest rising and falling as his tongue traced gentle circles around your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. he kept his eyes locked on yours, his gaze burning with hunger and affection as he devoured you slowly and thoroughly, his fingers gently spreading your lips apart to give him better access. "fuck, just like that..." you moaned softly, balling the sheets in your fist as you looked down at him.
"like this?" he whispered between gentle licks, his fingers trailing up your thighs. "such a pretty sight when you're like this..." he continued his steady pace, savoring every moment, occasionally looking up to watch your expressions. "ekko, please..." you looked down softly, holding back your moans as you bit your inner cheek. you leaned your head back, breathing heavy as your fingers tangled in the silky sheets.
he smiled softly as he saw you bite your inner cheek to hold back your moans, thinking that it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. he hooked your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you in place. "look at me," he commanded softly, his tongue delving in and out slowly. you looked down at him, your chest rising and falling as you held his lustful gaze.
he held your gaze, his own eyes burning with desire as he continued to eat you out slowly. "so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice muffled by your pussy. "I could look at you like this all day." he pressed a kiss to your clit before looking back up at you. you breathed heavy, a soft tingle in your stomach as he praised you. he slipped his middle finger into your pussy, your wetness making it easy as he curled it to hit that sweet spot inside you. his tongue pressing firmly against your clit and moving in small circular motions.
you swallowed as you looked down at him, your breathing heavy as your stomach tingled more than before, your chest rising and falling with every movement he made. he slipped another finger inside of you, his thumb replacing his tongue in your clit as his pace increased slightly. his fingers moved in and out while his thumb pressed firmly against your clit. "come for me, beautiful," he whispered, his warm breath against your sensitive skin. "show me how much you like it when I finger you like this..."
you tilted her head back, fighting the urge to roll your eyes back as you let out a moan, gripping the sheets tightly as you looked back down to his lustful gaze. "shit ekko, you're gonna make me cum..." she moaned softly. he looked up at you with soft and lustful eyes, mesmerized as your face contorted in pleasure. his fingers curled inside you, hitting that spot over and over until your body finally gave in. "there it is," he murmured, his fingers slowing their pace as he felt your inner walls clench around them.
you bit your lip harshly as your thighs shook and your stomach sunk in, your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets, moaning his name as you came.
he smirked as he continued his gentle pace, feeling satisfied and proud at being able to bring you to this state. seeing your knuckles white and lips bitten made his heart race faster. he placed tender kisses on your inner thighs as you rode out your orgasm. "that's right," he whispered, his fingers slowly withdrawing. "shhh..."
you breathed heavy as he pulled his fingers completely out, slipping them into his mouth as he licked them clean, making your stomach flutter as he crawled up to you. he kissed you passionately, his tongue pushing into your mouth as you could taste yourself on him. he kissed you deeper, his hand gently resting on your collarbone and coming up to hold your neck as your tongues slid against each other passionately.
you both parted to catch your breath as he smiled down at you, tilting your chin up to look you in the eyes. "you're so beautiful... your pleasure is my pleasure." he smiled softly, leaning down and kissing you once more as you smiled into the kiss.
Tuesday, December 10th, 2024
N4ViG4TiON! ★ ; taglist ⋆ masterlist
© REINEVS WORKS | TUMBLR
Maze runner masterlist
Newt x fem reader story, multi chapter
Full request on chapter one
✨🏃🏼
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven
Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven.
✨🏃🏼
Twelve. thirteen. Fourteen fifteen sixteen
Seventeen eighteen nineteen. Twenty
✨🏃🏼
Twenty-one twenty-two twenty-three
Twenty-four twenty-five twenty-six
Twenty-seven twenty- eight. Twenty-nine
Thirty
One two
@fandomfan-102
hi! omg can i request a dom regulus black trying to keep the reader quiet in his dorm room late at night?? thanks so much <33
masterlist
requests are open
word count: 1k
MDNI
not sure if this is 100% what you were wanting n its honestly weird writing this cos i imagine regulus being so soft behind closed doors lol but i promise ill have some reggie fluff out soon also
not proof read and this is not my finest work lol sorry !
warnings: domxsub relationship, choking, humiliation(?), rough sex
-
You tapped on the wooden door lightly, your tummy growing tight with nervousness as you made sure not to be too loud. You hadn’t seen Regulus in 3 days and you were growing needy. Regulus opened the door swiftly and furrowed his eyebrows into a frown when he saw you standing there.
“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He huffed, pulling you into his dorm by the forearm and closing the door quickly. “No one saw you come in, right?”
You shook your head no. Regulus was pretty stubborn about your agreement: no one can know that you guys are hooking up and only he can decide when you were to see each other.
“Well what is it?” Regulus asked as if you were dumb, sitting on the edge of his bed with his legs spread, resting on his hands behind him.
“I-I was just wondering if-” You began but he quickly cut you off.
“Don't act dumb, kitten.” He said as if he was amused. Your cheeks heated as you stood in front of him.
“It's been 3 days.” You finally said clearly, hinting at what you wanted.
“Use your words, Y/N.” Regulus held out his hand and you walked forward towards him. You took his hand and he guided you onto his lap.
“I need you.” You mumbled. You sat sideways on his lap as his hand rested on your thigh, his cold rings sending goosebumps down your bare skin.
“Merlin, you are so fucking needy.” He scoffed. “You think you can just walk in here and get my cock whenever you like?”
You could tell your cheeks were bright pink as you avoided eye contact.
“Answer me, kitten.” He grabbed your jaw harshly and turned your face to look at him. You shook your head no but he simply raised his eyebrows at you.
Before you had a second to think, he had lifted you and thrown you backwards onto the bed. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you watched Regulus pull his black shirt over his head before crawling on top of you.
“Such a little slut for my cock, huh?” He grumbled in your ear before kissing your neck harshly. You nodded your head desperately as the throbbing grew in your lower abdomen. “Wandering to my room in the middle of the night because you’re so desperate for a quick fuck, huh kitten?”
Regulus’ hand gripped on to your underwear and pulled it down your legs before pushing your skirt up your waist.
“Already so wet for me too.” He hummed. “What made you so wet?”
“You, Regulus.” You moaned out, desperate for his touch.
His thumb came into contact with your clit, circling it lightly causing your legs to shake slightly. You let out a cry of pleasure as he knew all the right spots.
“Quiet, kitten.” He mumbled and you obeyed. Your breath was heavy as you tried to stop the moans from surpassing your lips.
Regulus took his fingers away from you before quickly unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down, not bothering to take them off completely.
You felt his hard cock brush against your entrance and you let out another cry of pleasure.
“What did I fucking tell you?” Regulus huffed. He grabbed you by the throat, his hair falling on to your forehead as he got close to you. “Stay fucking quiet.”
You nodded your head with wide eyes as he returned to his position between your legs. He pushed himself in you and you couldn't help but let out a low moan as the tension that had been building the past few days released itself.
He didn’t wait long before pounding himself into you, his soft moans and breaths pouring out into your ear.
You were trying so hard to stay quiet but your mind was growing fuzzy and you couldn’t help but focus on the way his cock hit all the right spots inside of you, the way his pubic bone hit against your clit every time he pounded against you and the way the veins in his neck tensed.
Moans spilled from your mouth as you could feel yourself reaching your high but Regulus only grew more frustrated.
“Shut your fucking mouth, no need for everyone to hear what a fucking cockslut you are for me.” He huffed, bringing up one of his hands and putting his pointer and middle finger in your mouth causing you to gag.
Everytime you stifled a moan he would push his fingers down further, causing tears to brim at your eyes as you continued to choke.
“Aw, can you not handle it, baby?” Regulus mocked you as he fucked you harder, only causing you to cry out louder. You could tell he was close as his thrusts grew sloppier.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth, needing his hand to steady himself to continue his pace.
You couldn’t hold it in any longer, you were a moaning mess as you were so close to your high.
“Shit.” He mumbled to himself. Regulus continued to pound into you but brought his lips up to yours as a last resort, shoving his tongue down your throat and kissing you passionately to hide the noise.
Your hands reached up to his dark brown curls and your fingertips got tangled in the mess. You knew he hated any form of affection but you were past the point of caring.
You could tell how frustrated he was getting at this, breathing heavily down his nose and thrusting harder into you out of frustration. He separated your lips and instead brought his hand up to your mouth, covering your lips with his palm. You didn’t care anymore as you felt yourself reach your high, moans vibrating against his palm as your walls tightened around him. Your legs were shaking as he followed your high, groaning as he came inside you.
His body fell next to yours lazily as he pushed his hair out of his face.
You both caught your breath next to one another as you turned to face him. You knew you were in trouble, but it was worth it.
pairings: Levi Ackerman x reader
genre: fluff
summary: Levi Ackerman, humanity's strongest soldier and weakest sleeper. You’re not surprised to find him sneaking out of bed to be reunited with his paperwork, but you are touched that he still holds you in his arms until you have reached a deep slumber before he slips away.
Tonight you catch him returning to your side, determined to spend time with him before the world wakes.
word count: 1,301
ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55489207
The gentle tapping of the rain hitting the window greets you as you slowly wake, blearily rubbing your eyes with a small yawn. You turn your vision towards the window, watching as the moon's silver rays peek through the gaps in the ageing curtains. You can’t gauge its position, but from the owl happily cooing outside, you can guess the hour is still late. It’s too late for most to be awake as the headquarters lies still, nestled safely within the walls and protecting its dedicated soldiers as they rest.
All but one, you surmise as you notice the distinct lack of weight around your waist and the cold spot in the bed next to you.
The dim candlelight that bleeds in from the connected office, flowing through the slightly ajar door, confirms your thoughts. You roll your eyes as you snuggle deeper into the cosy blanket you are wrapped up in. After all, if he wants to forfeit such a luxury, then it’s only fair that you benefit from all of its plush -and expensive- fabric.
Levi Ackerman, humanity's strongest soldier and weakest sleeper. You’re not surprised to find him sneaking out of bed to be reunited with his paperwork, but you are touched that he still holds you in his arms until you have reached a deep slumber before he slips away to his desk, only returning to your sleeping form at an unholy hour in the morning.
You wish that he could fully relax, to enjoy the luxuries of sleep for longer than a few hours each night, yet no matter what either of you do to try and help, it continues to elude him. The scars run too deeply for the issue to be fixed that easily.
You quickly close your eyes as the light is suddenly snuffed from the world, the soft padding of bare feet on the cold wood grows clearer the closer he gets.
The creaking of the bed echoes around the deathly quiet room, the whispered swears that follow bring a small smile to your lips as you feel the mattress beside you dip to accompany him. You do your best to pretend to sleep as he slips close behind you, bringing a strong and toned arm around your form to pull you closer to his chest.
You feel his body relax against yours, a small sigh brushing past your ear as he nuzzles his face against your neck. These hours are just for you and him, where all the mental walls have been lowered without worrying about someone else peering past them. Where you can both be regular humans, not soldiers with appearances to keep up and masks to hold in place.
All things considered, these are your favourite hours.
You would never admit out loud how you’ve slowly adapted to waking up just in time to catch him returning, to feel him curl around you and to finally relax and let himself be just Levi. Within these four walls, once the light of day has faded, you get to love without worry and to experience love the way the people you fight to protect experience it.
“I know you’re awake, you’re such a shit actor.”
The murmured words cause you to jump and you can feel his smirk against your skin. Levi slowly repositions himself, his elbow digging into the pillow as he now leans over you instead. You can’t help but stare up at him, taking in the way his dark fringe hangs down over his face. The way the silver of his eyes seems to glow within the light of the moon. You know he would scoff at the thought, but he looks angelic as he looks down at you.
“What gave it away?” Your words come out reluctantly, your body still shaking off the embers of sleep.
“Most people don’t have a dopey smile on their face when they sleep. Your breathing also gave you away.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ackerman.” You reply with a small pout, while you do your best to fight back the mentioned smile.
“Uh huh,” Levi’s eyes shine with affection despite his usual flat expression. His hand finds your own among the sea of fabric between you, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. You watch as he casts his eyes over your thoroughly tucked-in state, his eyebrows rising with silent amusement.
“Will I be getting any of that back?”
“Depends,” you keep your voice light as you pull the ends of the cover closer to your chin, embracing the warmth he’s trying to reclaim.
“On what?”
“Will you be staying for the rest of the night? Or will I snatch this blanket back in a few hours after you sneak off to betray me for paperwork? Cause I’m very comfy, you know.”
His eyes soften as he slowly pulls at the blanket until he can slip alongside you underneath it. You happily shuffle closer to press up against his broad chest once more, to feel that missing weight return to your waist as his arm gently settles into place. You wrap yourself around him as much as you can, using both your arms and legs to cling to him tightly.
As you wiggle your leg to get comfortable, a small hiss falls from his lips as he jolts. You look up at him with a mixture of confusion and concern, scared that he had been injured somehow.
“The fuck? You had the entire blanket and your toes are still like shards of ice.”
Concern melts into amusement as you slowly bring your foot closer to his calf, taunting him as your eyes lock onto his to meet his harsh glare.
“Don’t you dare. Do that again and I will be doing paperwork for the rest of the night.” Despite his words, his tone is light as he dangles the weak threat over your head, causing you to cling to him even tighter with a light laugh.
“I promise I won’t do it again, tonight at least.”
You get a reluctant sigh in response as Levi idly draws circles onto the flesh of your shoulder, slowly beckoning sleep closer once more. You blink, trying to fight off the sensation and willing your body to disobey its desire to fall asleep once more. You want to spend as much time in his arms as possible, sleeping through the domestic moment doesn’t count when it deprives you of seeing the rare soft smile on his face.
It seems that he agrees as his low voice breaks you from your thoughts.
“What are you doing awake anyway? It’s late and Erwin expects to see us at a stupidly early time tomorrow, you should be getting as much rest as you can.”
You let out a small snort, of course he would have a gentle lecture about sleeping habits ready.
“Pot, meet kettle?” You bite your lip to prevent yourself from giggling in his face when he moves to give your forehead a small yet strong poke. He soothes the area with a gentle kiss, his lips featherlight as they press against your forehead.
“Okay, okay…I woke up to wait for you to return.” You bury your face in the crook of his neck, missing the way his features soften at your bashful confession, your tongue betraying your mind with the reluctant reveal. You have always been the more verbally affectionate one in the relationship, yet you still have your moments where words and vulnerability are a challenge.
His hand cradles the back of your head, pulling it closer while his fingers tangle in your hair. His voice is now a sleepy whisper as his body and mind finally begin to relax.
“Well, I’m here now. So you can finally get some proper rest.”