#*SOBBING* I LITERALLY CANNOT REST ;;

[sugary-spider]

I HAVE TOY HOUSE. and one day I will. Learn how to use it spread lore of my ocs and the au they originate in just need everyone to get SUPER cool about the snakoylates really quick...

Also about the other organization I created & them being called the parasitknights which are like the snakoylates rivals :3

[wildsaltair]

Me? Listening to beautiful orchestral soundtracks and imagining a sweeping romantic epic film starring me and Maximus??? Surely you jest.

[sangunary]

Hi hi! Can we have a baby reader that has a habit of biting, headbutting and crying whenever the Batfamily is in their costumes? The baby absolutely loves them and always clings onto the family,follows then around even when they're busy (sitting in Bruce's lap while he's having a online meeting,clinging onto Damian while he paints and draws with one hand, sleeping on Jason's lap while he reads, ect.) but the moment they put on their masks/helmet she instantly stars sobbing, throwing things and hiding from them and if anyone tries to hold them when they still have their costumes on they instantly try to bite or headbutt them?

ᯓBatFamily × Baby Reader ( Platonic ).

SYPNOSIS: Their beloved baby sibling cannot remember who they are under the mask.

IMP: PURELY platonic. Wayyyy longer then I wish.

Your mother died shortly after you were born and your father ran away after realising your existence.

Being a teenager your mother knew she couldn't care for you, as much as she hated to send you off into anothers arms it was for your own sake.

She couldn't be selfish and make you go through a terrible life of poverty and without a father as well.

It happened during a massive earthquake, a building for struggling pregnant teens collapse.

Batman was there to save life along with his children, your mother went into labour due to stress and unknown circumstances.

It was tragic, she had you there and before she could even glace at your face the light left her eyes...

Before her death she begged for Batman to hand you over to someone caple of loving you like how she had hoped to, he tried telling her she wouldn't die yet she knew... She chose you to live as she doesn't see a reason to be breathing if you can't be by her arms.

She rather stay with you even as a ghost.

Batman looking at the newborn crying at his arm's unlock unwanted feelings and memories and decided to raise you himself.

The rest of the family love's you, your precious smile and especially the way you would cling onto them.

You love warmth and affection, completely different from when you were born cold and empty.

Walking on your legs as you would follow after anyone that even glace at you, it was hilarious.

You have extremely short legs, swinging your hand's while you try to run towards them with loud whinning for them to notice you.

If they didn't notice you, you would simply sit down on the ground hard with a thud and fold your arm's, staring at them with the best frown you could manage with. Sitting there sulking in silence unless or until someone pick you up.

Dick love's to teach you acrobatic moves knowing damn well that you can barely run not without almost tripping and falling on your face, you weren't the most athletic baby.

Throwing you up in the air and catching you and then spinning with you, he just loves to hear that adorable giggles of yours you made whenever he does the most dangerous stunt with you.

Sitting you down on the couch as he does a handstand or a flip or anything as you would clap your hands together. He would try to make you do backflip which always ended in him getting hit by Barbara who would took you away from him.

"Look at our little performer! Aren't they the most impressive performer?"

Dick would show any of his sibling of your standing on his hands or you hanging onto his arms.

You would watch him train and even try to train with him which he cannot help but smile at.

You trying to reach the bar that literally felt like it was in heaven cause you saw Dick performing tricks on it, using all your strength trying to pick up heavy weight.

You would not let him train by himself, you felt a deep sorrow seeing him training by himself so you help out as much as possible.

Like, clinging onto him while he did some pull ups, surprisingly your grip is very strong and tight for your age. Resting your head on his shoulder, looking like a baby slot holding onto it's mother.

Or how you would try to hold onto the to dumbbell while he's using it to become he would probably be squished by it if you don't help.

After a few minutes you would be off to napping on the couch exhausted and tired.

If you don't felt like being with Dick you simply go to the next option, Jason.

Jason was alot more gentle scared that he might accidentally hurt you, he does always teach you about on how to be street smart, you don't understand anything he say's but you like to listen.

Seeing him read you would left everything behind to accompany him cause no one is left behind. Always blessing them with your heavenly presence.

Climbing onto the ridiculously talk couch known as the ' reading couch ' Jason would watch as you struggle to get up, it was adorable from his view and it was climbing mount Everest on your part.

You arm's can reach it yet your legs have a hard time trying to get up, when one leg is on the couch you just couldn't lift the other. You wouldn't ask for help either, you rather not seek help from the want needing you.

After you managed to climb the couch you would plop down on his lap or take one arm and warp it around you leaning onto him, looking at the written book infront of you... You can't read.

Jason would simply continue reading in his mind and would even aks you if you finish reading it before turning the page, knowing that you infact cannot read. He knows that you made up completely new word and story.

He's reading Pride and Prejudice you're reading about Baba Black Sheep.

At the Batcave while he's repairing his bike you would Crouch down next to him like his assistant, pointing at gears and nodding along.

Sometimes it's the most comfortable silence he ever had or he's just teaching you about gears and how to fix them.

Hell, he even lables the tools because you don't have the worst memorization factor.

Helping you fix your toy bicycle using toys while being extremely serious.

"Seems like you barely clean the gear, look at this mess, I didn't raise you to be neglecting your prise possesion like nothing"

"Look, touch the tire and feel it... flat, very flat, dangerously flat... We need to pump it up before you get into trouble and cry"

You nod your head vigorously, barely understanding on why he is making you feel the bicycle wheel that is solely made of plastic.

Tim was also your favourite.

You would sit on his laps as he work, the computer lighting up the place, doesn't matter how busy Tim was you always managed to slide in on his arms and just watch like a clueless raccon.

Talking to you about his case and you don't even catch half of the thing he's rambling about yet still nodding along.

If he is studying you would study along side him, holding onto the pencil and lining the alphabet while Tim was busy learning for exam.

Showing him your work whenever you are done and him rewarding you with a head pat.

He even let's you play dress up on his computer while hes taking a break: He's brainstorming there is no break.

His computer consisted of gruesome documents and records and there is also tons of dress up games, making cake, classic games and barbie movies... Safe to say, he pirates alot of barbie movie for your sake.

"The unicorn is her sister? That's beastiality"

"Reminds me of Damian... Must be his secret twin"

Seeing him drink energy drinks and coffee you have been begging to drink as well, cause whatever he does you do it as well no need for questions.

And as a result, he wrote 'Monsta' on a mug he bought you and pour you a drink whenever he drank them, and you would drink it proudly.

It was just mineral water that tasted like fruits, you'll have your first energy drink with him to cheer and witness the start of your addiction.

Damian on the other hand was the most serious of the bunch.

Hes an actual eagle, always there whenever you want hug or attention or even to be love. Scoop you up in his arms and left without a word. He will not have those vermin judge him for treating his siblings with love.

If he saw any of them putting you in danger do not be worried he have been luring behind the darkness before shit can get serious. He's the second shadow of yours ready to pound onto anyone who put you in danger.

He's very serious about your well being and mental state.

Although he did hand you weapons at such young age to train with, you can't blame him he started out young to so if you start young he could be much at ease .

Much to his dismay Bruce doesn't want you near violence in his defence it wasn't violence if they annoy you first.

Now you two are secretly learning how to fight with very very small progress, you cannot even hold onto a small stick for a minute a katana... Was something else.

He's absolutely protective of you since you're an incapable baby, if you see something flying at you you'll just meet it face first cry ahd forget. Have a higher chance of being kidnapped.

It's his absolute duty to protect you from harm, no one lays their hand on you without his permission... He will not tolerate insolent and mannerless people and he will make sure you do to.

Holding onto you while he paint, he never complaint no matter how uncomfortable it was because a good soldier never complaint for their comfort rather they suffer for someone they love.

You would nap in his arm or simply watch him perform his art, it was a quiet comfortable moment... It was a special time for the two of you to bond peacefully.

"Unicorn?"

You asked him, looking up at him who's eyes were still on his the Canva.

"I knew you weren't an intellect child but isn't this out of line even for you?"

"Uni"

"Alright, a horse with a corn on it's head then..."

He can't deny you when you don't even have the brain to register what he is saying, and not because he wanted to spoil you abit... and raise your standards.

Your father was usually busy, busy being Bruce and Batman at night. Since you're a baby it was alot harder for him to spend times with you.

Usually he could do that by spending time's during patroll but he won't allow a child to be a vigilante anymore.

As a result he tried to glue you to his side when he is free, although he wasn't a good father he tried.

He sometime doesn't understand what you are meaning to say and your siblings would have to translate it for him. Although he would try to figure it out before asking them.

Watching anything you enjoy doesn't matter how childish it was Bruce would sit down with you and watch it very seriously. Noting down whenever you laugh or bored for future special times.

Going to the local playground with you while all the mom's stared at him, muttering praise and complements for being such a good father while being single.

He knew they were staring at him since he literally is Bruce Wayne at a public playground, because he doesn't want to spoil you too much and wants you to have normal friends.

Pushing you on the swing, waiting at you at the end of the slide, pretending not to see you while playing hide and seek and even playing along with you during roleplay. He sincerely wanted to be a good father to atleast one of his children.

Unfortunately or fortunately he doesn't see you as a distraction from anything just a responsible he absolutely loves. That means you're everywhere he is at... Gala, outside and even meeting.

You would sit on his lap facing his laptop with a drowsy look on your face, playing with his fingers while he doesn't even seem to know that you are there.

His employees couldn't help but take pictures secretly, you don't look so enthusiastic about the meeting and even falling asleep occasionally. Yet Bruce would only acknowledges you to make sure you were comfortable and not too bored.

Well you did join his meeting because you honestly missed your father but that was a one time thing, now it was mandatory for you to be present during meetings cause you were the joy and happiness for him.

"If we don't have the available resources now our competitors will surely take advantage of that and left us with nothing"

"...Boss? are you listening?"

Bruce who was busy trying to settle your head to a more comfortable position while being as gentle as possible.

"Yeah, hear you... Just have to do some important work continue"

Yet as much as you cling and hold onto them whenever they are going to go out without you. You would freak out with their mask on.

Hiding behind Alfred holding onto him for your life looking at the strangers infront of you, to you they just ate your family. Your family goy eaten by those masks and God were you scared.

Dick would try to find a solution... To hold you then put the mask on but to no one surprise you freak out even more.

Struggling for dear life and even smacking him, tears already forming at your eyes terrified about the fact that your older brother just got eaten infront of you.

Then he would took it off and it took you a great minute to realise he was back from the death. Hold onto him suddenly and cry harder.

Jason terrified you the most, his head was literally engulfed by the helmet of his. You would try to save him by throwing anything you could grab and hold onto.

Grabbing the book closest to you and throwing it at him which barely hit him, hit him as hard as you could while he just stood there unbothered. Alfred would be the one making sure no one wear their complete costume near you.

You couldn't recognise them even if they wear it infront of you it'll make it much more worst. Biting onto them if necessary and headbutt them as hard as you could and it does hurt you and them.

You did headbutt Jason once you never did that again and he couldn't stop laughing after you did it, just the sound of metal being hit ring and utter silence... Followed with the Alfred picking you up before you could resistered the pain.

At first they thought it was just you being stupid and the more you see them the easier it would get... No, it got worst.

You're fully prepared by the time they had hoped for you to stop, thankfully you were strong enough to conflict any pain but you could pull hard enough to took some hair out, bite them or headbutt.

Your favourite was to just ran away while calling out for them not knowing that the person you were running from was the one you seeked.

[rockingbytheseaside]

omg, I am quite literally in love with your work.

pls I cannot tell you how frickin ecstatic I am when I read your stuff 😭 like I’m Fr Rolling on the floor and stopping every five secs bc of the butterflies-

AND! I saw that your asks are open!! (If I misread/misunderstood then I’m so sorry and just ignore this) I was wondering if you could do Harbingers x reader when they find reader quietly weeping- like reader thought they were alone and didn’t wanna burden them :3 romantic if you would !!

no pressure ofc!!!! fr I love ur stuff sm like I’ve been reading ur stuff OVER AND OVER😭😭😭

(bshdhsgdhagjds Okay, let me just hold in my tears- that’s so kind of you anon! Sorry for making you wait, I hope this is something similar to what you wanted) 

✦ How they comfort you when you cry

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Childe

Sometimes, your days might feel bitter, and sometimes the weight of your inner struggles can accumulate into a somber heap of self-doubt. Whether it was a minute inconvenience that resulted in your dampened mood, or stressful memories of the past – the reasons behind it fade into insignificance. Because next thing you know, you feel your shoulders slightly shaking, and your hand reaching to conceal your silent weeping. Thus, when talking becomes a burden and your breath runs short, your beloved is the first to listen to your sniffles.

✧ Pierro’s already icy gaze becomes unreadable. Is it fear? Is it astonishment? Or is it the readiness to unleash hell upon anything that compelled you to shed these silent tears? He sees you hugging yourself, trying to shield yourself away from him. His gloved hands cautiously reach for your form, like a blanket wrapping itself around your shoulders. 

“My divine one, why hide your tears away from me? Why conceal the sadness in your eyes when you silently weep? Please, grace me with your gaze and look at me.” 

His voice is careful despite its deepness, suppressing his boiling temper at the sight of your sadness. He reaches for you tenderly, and when you turn towards him, you allow yourself to cry further into his chest. He cradles you silently, never once wasting breath on simple shushes or admonishments to cease crying. No, The Jester will hold you, let his lips press softly to your forehead, and let you cry as much as you need. He'll personally worship and wipe every teardrop off your cheek. 

Yet despite his gentle arms, you sense him shaking. His gloved hands hold you securely, yet subconsciously gripping. Because pray to the archons above, he will not rest until the source of your sadness is annihilated. 

✧ Il Capitano never saw you cry before. He saw you as an equal in matters of battles, duels, and personal life. Through ups and downs, your best and worst. And yet the imposing, mighty Captain never witnessed his beloved’s face slowly scowl and emit those saddened sobs as you're doing now. 

“No… who bestowed such sadness onto you, my cherished? What sorrows are you fighting?” 

He asks, half in disbelief and worry. The Captain kneels down, the back of his armored hands gracefully meeting your face. He makes sure you’re not physically in pain, his touch asking permission for the simplest caress. You might feel embarrassed to explain why you're crying, but the Captain will coax you to talk only if you bestow him this honor. Otherwise, he never mocks or admonishes you for crying – “This is not a sign of weakness, but a sign of humanity in your strength.”

To soothe you, he'd drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing the side of his coat to shield you. If you desire, he'd immediately discard his coat entirely and wrap it over your shoulders. And if you desire neither this or that, he'd silently kneel, asking for permission to pick you up in his forearms, so you may rest on his shoulder while he carries you away. 

✧ You cannot conceal your sorrows from Il Dottore. He suspects you are feeling dejected before you even realize it. Should your shoulders quiver and tears well in your eyes, he'll be the first to perceive it. His already tense countenance will harden, and in short, murderous intent, he’ll ask:

“Who did this to you?”

His first suspension is that someone foolish enough dared to hurt you, and his next task is to seek out that moron. And stars above, if someone did ruin your day, the Doctor will have a new cadaver on his lab table. You'll have to physically restrain the Harbinger in front of you by putting your hands on his shoulder and explaining hurriedly that no one did anything harmful. 

Il Dottore won't quell his inner rage so easily though. As you shake your head, and rub your eyes, it will require much persuasion to convince him that it’s not as dire as he suspects. Nonetheless, Dottore will keep a tight hold on your form. If he won't murder someone in rage, then he'll prepare a soothing beverage and wrap you up in a comfortable seating so you may rest your weary head. He’ll have to personally drag you to sit by his lap so you won’t desolate yourself into a depressive fit again. 

“Wasting your breath and energy on crying is a futile endeavor. You'll only tire your body out… so rest in my arms before your mind starts weaving more puny sentiments.” 

✧ The ever-prideful and strict Scaramouche would find himself faltering into silence when the unfamiliar sound emanates from your being. The hiccupped sounds of choked cries are not foreign to him - he recognized them very well and was personally acquainted with the physical pain of crying. But seeing the closest being, the one he calls most cherished, to unexplainable weep was a new form of pain he had never experienced. 

“... Are you-? What's wrong, are you hurt? Did something-!”

An expression of shock and fear bestows the Balladeer, his hands are reluctant and afraid to cross your boundaries when you cry in front of him. His first instinct is to believe that he has erred, that he has hurt you or spoken insensitively. Anguished, his fist tightens, dreading your stern rejection. Yet, all it takes is a gentle shake of your head and a soft reassurance - no, he hasn't actually done anything wrong.

His brow will remain furrowed, and only under your permission, he would glue himself to you in a reassuring embrace. It's only after he's assured of your safety and well-being that the Harbinger begins to ease up and scoff. Maybe, just maybe, he will go and bring your favorite sweets afterward. Regardless, his hands kept cupping your face, thumbs gently wiping your tears.

“Ha, you’re that sensitive that you’d weep at the most minor inconvenience? Fine, I’ll stay here. But don’t get too comfortable. And you better stop apologizing for crying. You should never say sorry for something like that. It’s in your right to cry… Just come to me when something’s troubling you, alright?”

✧ You cannot recall a single instance when Pantalone's captivating smile ever wavered. The man has perfected his charismatic, million-mora smile that only you can discern if he’s being genuine or not. But to witness it dropping completely in a cold stare while you cried was chilling. You felt scared, as the Harbinger grew eerily silent with each slow step, he demanded:

“... Give me names and I will make sure they will disappear permanently.”

You jolted. This was bad, and it sure didn’t quell your sobbing as you hurriedly shook your head. Pantalone took a deep sigh, his brain forced to flip a switch and change to a more tender tone so he wouldn’t scare you further with his sinister rage. He will deal with the causes later. What mattered now was your shaken state. Hence, like the dotting lover he is, he softly inquired whether you wish to talk or have some privacy. 

If you willingly welcomed his physical touch, then prepare yourself for a day filled with him enfolding you tightly. He will draw you near, letting you cry your frustrations out until you get fatigued and rest against his lean chest. The Regrator always fulfills his pledges, gently rocking you back and forth. He will vow to spoil you on the next shopping spree and purchase everything you desire - luxuries, clothes, perfumes, or fancy meals, all of it is yours with a snap of his fingers (even if you reprimand his indulgence). His embraces are tenacious, endless kisses raining down on your face until you plead and whine to be released from his insistent hugs.

"My heart, how can I possibly release you when you should be adorned with kisses instead of tears? I am afraid I won’t be so easily reassured until I see your smile again."

✧ Tartaglia’s highlight of the day is mirroring your luminous smile; hence when he first heard your sorrowful sniffles, it felt like a sudden dark cloud washed past him, pouring cold water to wipe his smile off in an instant. Without hesitation, his hand found itself on your shoulder as he guided you to sit first.

“Hey, hey… What’s wrong, darling? I’m here, it’s alright.”

He observes your attempt to explain the root of your troubles, but as you try to elaborate, your tears only intensify against your own will. Kneeling in front of you, his gaze was resolute - he now had a mission. He will immediately soothe your mood with tender words of endearment, lighthearted banter, and the occasional joke here and there, anything to make you crack up with that sweet smile he so adores.

Tartaglia will remind you that first and foremost, he is your Ajax - the one who will bring laughter through his playful teasing and delightful humor during your times of melancholy. The one who will cook you the best Snezhnayan Bliny better than any pancake restaurant. And the one who will always be there so you can lean your head on his shoulder and just feel his heartbeat as he embraces you deeply. In any other circumstances, he is the 11th of the Fatui Harbinger who will work and bloody his fists for your safety. However, for now, you shouldn’t occupy your thoughts with such concerns.

“Hey, it’s alright… You don’t have to feel embarrassed for crying. We all have bad days from time to time. How about this, leave today’s dinner on me. I shall cook your favorite even better than you could imagine! Or else what sort of boyfriend would I be if I’m not spoiling my darling.” 

[stunie]

i just WOKE UP !!?????!!!!!!

2024.07.15 — dinner date with Ume. ♡

(hands up if you know where the reference photo’s froooommmmm!!!! >:3 aju nice.)

[hy6erion]

The worms in my brain want needy Viktor fic where he’s actually pathetically needy

Idk…. maybe we give him a handjob ⁉️

subby viktor is just a NEED <3 like it’s not even a want anymore it’s a biological requirement. i’ve written so much viktor lately it’s actually criminal but i literally cannot stop…

he’s so pathetically eager and clingy and sweet i just… yeah. he deserves that handjob. and maybe a lil more. for his health. <3

⇢ 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 (𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢), 𝐬𝐮𝐛! 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫, 𝐝𝐨𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝��𝐫, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐣𝐨𝐛, 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭!

His knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the desk, trying to stay quiet, trying to focus—but the way your hand pumped up and down his cock ruined any hope of that.

“You’ve been squirming all evening, Vik“ you whispered against his ear, breath warm as you leaned over from behind, your fingers never slowing. “I thought you’d come undone just watching me walk around here, hm?”

Your tone was playful. Cruel in the most tender, loving way. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

He made a strangled sound in the back of his throat—somewhere between a whimper and a plea—his hips jerking involuntarily against your grip. His cock was flushed, leaking, twitching with every stroke, slick sounds echoing in the dim lab around you.

“I—I was trying to focus” he rasped, jaw clenched, brows knitted together. “You—ghnh—you make it… impossible.”

You leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of his ear as your hand twisted on the upward stroke, teasing the underside of his tip with your thumb.

“Poor thing. So desperate and sensitive. You’ve been hard for hours, haven’t you?”

He nodded frantically, shame burning bright in his cheeks. He couldn’t even form words now—just breathy, wet moans that he tried (and failed) to muffle. His whole body was tense, his knees trembling beneath the desk as you lazily jerked him off from behind, lips just brushing the corner of his mouth every now and then.

You could see him falling apart by the second, and it was glorious.

“All it takes is one look, one touch, and you’re like this? Really, Viktor. You’re brilliant in every way—except this.” You leaned down further, resting your chin on his shoulder, hand never slowing. “You’re so needy for me. It’s pathetic. You couldn’t even ask.”

“I—nngh—I didn’t want to interrupt your work,” he managed through gritted teeth, though his hips bucked up again at the way your tone dipped into mockery. “You were focused, and I… I can’t just—”

“You could“ you corrected him with a soft chuckle, twisting your wrist just enough to make him hiss. “You just didn’t. You sat there, stiff in your chair, cheeks pink, pretending like your cock wasn’t aching every time I walked past. Pretending not to rut against your own thigh under the table like a desperate little thing.”

The noise he made at that—something between a moan and a sob—had you tightening your grip.

“So needy you’re shaking. Is that what you want? Want me to keep stroking this pretty cock until you’re whining for it?”

“Yes” he gasped immediately, shame long forgotten. “Please. I—I don’t care anymore, just—don’t stop.”

His body was so responsive—his back arching into your touch, his thighs trembling under the table. He was normally so composed, so put-together, so guarded. But right now? He was a ruined mess, undone by your hand alone.

“That’s it“ you cooed, lips brushing his flushed cheek. “Let me take care of you. You work so hard, Viktor. Don’t you think you deserve this? Hm?”

He gave a broken nod, forehead dropping against his crossed arms on the desk. His breathing was ragged, desperate, every muscle in his lean frame coiled like a spring.

You reached your other hand down, gently cupping his balls, rolling them between your fingers with soft, practiced touches, and he sobbed.

“So sensitive” you whispered, nearly in awe. “bet you’ve been holding back all day.”

“I have“ he moaned, whined completely unashamed now. “I’ve been—fuck—I’ve been so close, so long. Watching you, hearing your voice—I couldn’t take it anymore. I almost came in my pants earlier, just from the way you said my name.”

“God, that’s sad, baby.”

“Yes,” he agreed without hesitation, rutting shamelessly into your palm. “I don’t care—fuck, I just want to cum, please, please—please—”

Your hand sped up, the obscene wet sounds of your strokes louder now as he trembled beneath you.

“I’ll let you cum, Viktor” you whispered, lips brushing his neck. “But only if you say it. Tell me how needy you are. Tell me what a desperate little thing you are for me.”

“I—I’m so—ah—I’m so fucking needy for you,” he gasped, voice high and breathless. “I’ve been aching for you all day, I can’t—fuck, I can’t think—I need it so bad, I need to cum—please—”

You smiled wickedly against his skin, biting gently at the base of his neck as you jerked him faster.

“There you go, baby. Let it go. Cum for me. Make a mess.”

That was all it took.

He gave a strangled cry as he spilled into your hand, hips jerking uncontrollably, cum spurting thick and hot across your fingers and the edge of the desk. His whole body shuddered, legs shaking, and he nearly collapsed forward if you hadn’t wrapped an arm around his chest to hold him up.

You milked every drop from him with slow, deliberate strokes, making him twitch and sob with overstimulation. His breath came in ragged gasps, body limp in your arms.

“You look so pretty like this” you whispered into his ear, licking a bead of sweat from his temple. “Absolutely ruined. My brilliant Viktor… reduced to a whining mess.”

He whimpered softly, body still twitching with aftershocks, his cock now twitching weakly in your hand.

“I… I love when you touch me like this“ he confessed in a dazed murmur. “It feels like my body forgets how to breathe.”

You chuckled and gently released him, wiping your hand on a cloth from the desk. Then you leaned forward, wrapping both arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.

“Next time, don’t wait all day. Come to me when you need something, hm?”

He let out a soft groan and nodded slowly, completely melted into your hold.

“I will“ he promised, voice weak. “But… if I had come to you earlier… would you still have done it like this?”

You smirked. “Mmm. Probably not.”

“…Worth the torture, then” he sighed, eyes fluttering shut.

You kissed the side of his neck and chuckled again. “You’re such a filthy little thing under all that intellect, Viktor. I love it.”

[thelov3lybookworm]

My World

Day 1: Cool quiet.

Summary: Y/n's in labour. Azriel needs to stay calm.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 805

Warnings: labour ig? azzie being scared and sad cus yn is in pain :(

A/n: HAPPY DAY 1 OF @azrielappreciationweek YALL WOOHOOOO 🥳

all fics in the week will be like a series cus theyre all revolving around azzie and his daughter hehe but it isnt a series ig?

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Rhysand did not see the shift in his spymaster. Did not see the way he stiffened, the way his eyes went distant before focusing again, fist clenched.

He said no words, nothing to indicate he knew his mate was going into labour. And if the meeting with Keir had not ended when it had and Azriel hadn’t immediately winnowed away without preamble, Rhys wouldn’t have even known.

Even when Rhysand and Cassian followed their brother to his house on the outskirts of Velaris, welcomed by agonising screams of Azriel’s mate, Rhysand saw him stand quietly in the hallway.

Rhysand could not fathom being that cool, that quiet if he knew Feyre was in labour.

He had to give it to Azriel, the male was great at hiding his weaknesses. And Rhysand would have been convinced he was still composed had he not seen that in the dark corridor, light glinted off of the tears rolling down his cheeks.

Azriel still did not move, standing still against the wall with his hands folded behind his back.

It shook Rhys more than him pacing and losing his mind would have.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Azriel’s pov.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to curse himself out loud. After all, he was the reason his darling mate was going through the pain of birth.

Should’ve resisted when she said she wanted kids.

But alas, it was now too late to do anything but stand here helpless as he heard her loud cries of pain from their bedroom.

"I- Azriel! Az-"

It took all Azriel had in him to stand outside while his mate, his wife went through unbearable pain he knew he could not even fathom of. Having your privates stretched while you had to push out a literal being was something he knew his worst wounds would look like paper cuts in comparison.

It made him respect females more at the moment.

Through the bond, he felt flashes of hot agony and cold pain, but he was aware it was nothing, nothing compared to what his mate was going through.

The door opened the slightest bit, the worried eyes of an apprentice healer peeking out. "Spymaster? Madja said you can come in to soothe your mate."

Instantly, Azriel was hurrying inside the room, his eyes finding his mate lying on the bed.

Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.

But how could he, seeing as the one person he could ruin the world for, was sobbing, tears running down her face in constant streams, aided by the sweat gathering on her skin?

He hurried over to her side, her palm instantly finding his.

"My love, I’m here."

She gasped in pain, nails digging into his palm.

Cool. Stay cool. It will be fine.

"Just one more push dear, then you can rest."

Azriel turned his head to Madja when she said that, relief spreading through his veins. At least the torture Y/n was going through would be over soon.

Y/n nodded, meeting Azriel’s eyes. Even while she was pushing out their baby, she found it in herself to offer him a weak smile.

Be calm.

Not even a moment after Y/n dropped back down on the bed with an exhausted sigh, loud cries filled the room. Azriel leaned down, placing his forehead against his mate’s. She smiled up at him, her eyes tired.

"No more babies. Y/n, I’m telling you, I cannot see you in pain."

Y/n had the audacity to pout. "But what if our baby gets lonely?"

He shook his head, kissing Y/n’s cheek. "I won’t let them get lonely."

He straightened when he heard footsteps approaching, lifting his head to look at Madja, who grinned at them over the baby’s head. "It’s a daughter."

Tears gathered in Azriel’s eyes as Madja leaned down, his daughter’s face coming into view for the first time. Azriel could not look away.

She’s beautiful.

Her eyes are so pretty.

She stared back at him with wide eyes.

Don’t cry. Stay calm. Stay quiet.

Fuck calm. Fuck quiet.

He let the tears fall as Y/n placed a hand on his arm, telling him to take his daughter. And even though he did not want to taint the pure soul made of him and his beloved, he extended his arms. Y/n had had the time of months to scold and train Azriel to not be scared of his own child.

The moment Madja stepped out of their room, Azriel let out an involuntary sob, accompanied by a look in his mate’s direction, who was crying too.

"I love her so much."

She nodded, giggling. "Me too." After a pause, she continued. "Hazel. That’s what we decided."

He nodded, unable to look away as he leaned down to press his lips to her tiny forehead.

"My world."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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@okaytrashpanda

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to their s/o falling asleep on their shoulder.

A/N: They’re all absolute sweethearts in their own way. Every single one of them is head over heels for you...

Seungcheol: Wdym? Of course he’d melt on the spot. Seungcheol would glance down at you, his tough exterior dissolving into the softest smile imaginable. He’d sit perfectly still, not daring to move an inch, because what if you wake up? His heart would be racing, though—not from nerves, but because of how much he loves you. He’d probably rest his head lightly on yours, stealing a moment to just bask in your presence. This man is so whipped!

Jeonghan: Jeonghan’s first reaction would be amusement. He’d smirk to himself, thinking, "Of course she'd fall asleep on me—I’m just that comfortable." But don’t be fooled by his teasing nature, deep down, he’d be touched. He might shift subtly to make sure you’re even more comfortable because yes, he’s sweet like that. If anyone tried to wake you, he’d shoo them away with his classic sass. You’re his priority now, and he’ll protect your nap like his life depends on it.

Joshua: Joshua would literally glow with happiness. He’d take it as a sign that you feel safe and loved around him, and that realization would fill him with warmth. He’d probably hum softly or stroke your hand gently, a small but affectionate gesture to remind you he’s there even in your sleep. He’s so tender, I canNOT- And if anyone pointed it out, he’d just give them a sheepish smile, not embarrassed but so clearly smitten.

Jun: Jun would freeze for a second, not sure what to do at first. But once it sinks in that you’re fast asleep on him, his heart would do a little flip. He’d tilt his head slightly to look at your face, marveling at how peaceful you look and thinking how are you this cute? He’d sit still, afraid to wake you, but his soft, dreamy expression would say it all: he’s a goner.

Hoshi: This man would be so proud. He’d be grinning like a fool. But then the hyperactive side of him would kick in, and he’d struggle to stay still. Do I take a selfie? Do I just enjoy this moment? Oh no, what if I sneeze?! Eventually, he’d calm down, his playful side giving way to pure affection. If you stirred, he’d whisper something cheesy like, "Don’t worry, your tiger will keep watch." He’s ridiculous, but he loves you so much.

Wonwoo: Wonwoo would probably act like this happens all the time, but inside, he’d be soft soft soft. He’d glance down at you, his lips curling into the faintest smile, and think, This is nice. He’d subtly adjust his posture to make sure you’re comfortable, even if it means sitting still for hours. He wouldn’t say much—because let’s be real, this man expresses love through quiet actions but the way his hand might hover near yours or gently rest on your arm would speak volumes. He’s such a softie for you, and I’m in tears.

Woozi: He would definitely try to play it cool, but internally? ABSOLUTE CHAOS. Despite his overthinking about what to do, he’d stay perfectly still, his heart doing somersaults because you’re asleep on him. He’d sneak little glances at your face, and a small smile would creep onto his lips. If someone teased him about it later, he’d brush it off, but inside, he’d be replaying the moment over and over. Protect this tiny man, he’s so in love.

Dokyeom: Dokyeom’s reaction would be a mix of pure delight and absolute panic. At first, he’d be all happy and everything and then immediately overthink every little thing: But once the initial fluster passes, he’d relax into the moment, his heart swelling with affection. He’d probably smile so brightly that anyone around would instantly know how much he loves you. He’s literally sunshine in human form, and I’m sobbing because he’d be so gentle and loving about it. If you stirred, he might softly hum a tune, hoping it would soothe you. He’s the sweetest ever, and you’re his favorite person, period.

Minghao: Minghao would handle this with such elegance, I swear. He’d notice you drifting off and would adjust his position beforehand so you’d be more comfortable. As you lean against him, he’d let out a soft sigh of contentment, appreciating the moment for what it is—a quiet, intimate connection. He’d probably rest his head lightly against yours, his eyes closing for a moment as if to savor the peace. He’s effortlessly romantic, and we're all swooning.

Mingyu: He would be grinning like an idiot. "They’re so cute, how am I supposed to focus on anything else now?" He’d probably wrap an arm around you for support, his large hands gently cradling your shoulder. If you woke up, he’d be all, "Did you have a good nap, baby?" with that trademark puppy-dog smile. This man was born to pamper you, and I won’t hear otherwise.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would freak out initially—not because he doesn’t like it, but because he doesn’t want to mess up and ruin your sleep. But once he settles down, he’d be so soft. He’d sneak a photo, not to share, but just to keep as a little memory. And if someone teased him about it later, he’d just give them a side eye. Classic Boo.

Vernon: Vernon would blink a couple of times, processing what just happened. But once he realizes you’re asleep, he’d lean back slightly, careful not to disturb you. He wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, but internally, he’d be like, Wow, this is... nice. He might put on some quiet music or let his mind wander, enjoying the calm moment. He’s so lowkey about it, but trust me, he’s smitten.

Dino: Dino would be so excited but also so nervous. To him this is a big boyfriend moment. He’d sit up a little straighter, trying to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. If his arm started to go numb, he’d just grin and bear it, because—anything for you. Later, he’d probably brag to the hyungs, that you fell asleep on him and how it's the cutest thing. Baby Dino is growing up, and I’m emotional.

[diabolicalevil]

The headcanons on if they would beg during a breakup tickled my toes pretty well so i would like to request them showing up at some event and it turns out it’s their beloveds wedding (lmao they aint the groom). How butthurt would they be? Would they object and stop the wedding? I feel like some of them would probably sob as the exchange of vows start and play it off like they’re crying happy tears or something, others might literally nuke the entire place and kill everyone (a bit specific but i would love to read your thoughts and headcanons on this devious scenario😈😈)

Primarchs reaction to your wedding with another man

gn!reader

so @thethronezone has already made a post like this and I just wanted to mention that espc cause I share similiar thoughts but I'll take a crack at it ! most are rather light hearted

Warnings: none

Lion El'johnson: would challenge them to a duel I think. for performances sake, he knows he is going to win. he's saddened and lion is lion so this appears as rage. to your groom most likely but there would also be an element of "Why didn't you stop this?" even if you were forced into it

Fulgrim: would object. I don't think this is universal but if someone objects to a wedding it has to be called off until its sorted out. in that however long time he's going PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE until you agree not to marry them. if all else fails he can simply take you that's also an option

Perturabo: seething like Fuck. he's in and he's out, if he stays he'll just destroy the place. believes you've abandoned him and will spend the rest of his life despising you

Jaghatai Khan: stand away from your husband for one (1) minute and ur gone. eloped, kidnapped, stolen whatever you wanna call it he has you now

Leman Russ: I think he'd kill. maybe. I dunno. I think collectively the Space Wolves would sabotage the wedding

Rogal Dorn: white knuckling until his skin matches his hair. he's trying so hard to be normal, be happy even. but he cannot and he wants to pummel the grooms face. it depends what he thinks is best for you. if you love the groom he will bite his tongue and live with the hurt but if you don't he'll object. and the weddings already on so he has to make that guess quickly

Konrad Curze: KILL MAIM BURN KILL MAIM BURN KILL MAIM BURN

Sanguinius: in actual tears, sad wet man he is. if he doesn't get a moment with you he'll continue the part of an angel even with tears pricking his eyes. if he does he'll beg you to rethink. and if that fails. air strikes

Ferrus Manus: angry, surprisingly. the hurt is there but it's overshadowed. he thinks you're being a fool, that this is completely illogical and he is obviously the correct choice. he only settles down when the thought that maybe his sons were right about humanity crosses his mind. he is livid but that he will not tolerate

Angron: KILL MAIM BURN KILL MAIM BURN KILL MAIM BURN (sad vers)

Roboute Guilliman: knows the wedding will be called off if he objects and that's why he does it immediately. any loop hole, any reason he can find to take you. you would expect him to be more level headed about the ordeal but he's frantic and desperate to put a stop to this

Mortarion: jesus Christ. the most butt hurt of the primarchs and yet he wouldn't object, wouldn't even stay long. he'd give snarky congratulations and insult your husband and would never face you again. not because he doesn't want to, quite the opposite. he just fears the facade would crumble if you ever met again

Magnus: mind control

Horus Lupercal: object and he's the most. I don't wanna say sassy. and I just used snarky. he's the most Cunt about it. he acts as if he has no doubt you will return to him but internally he's losing it that he's lost control of the situation this bad

Lorgar Aurelian: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Vulkan: for once he's somber and quiet, like it's a funeral rather than a wedding. he wants to believe you're happy and that you chose this but another part of him is eagle eyed for any reason to sweep you away back to Nocturne

Corvus Corax: also silent, shocker I know. it kills him but it works. he knew your relationship wasn't destined to last and as long as you're happy it's a more effective way of being able protecting you from the shadows. if your husband is the danger however. uh. mysteriously dismembered in a river. so sad

Alpharius/Omegon: ok. so. a few options. 1, they knew and are willing to give you up. 2, they knew and the wedding is sabotaged. 3, your husband is an alpha legion plant. 4, they are going to kill and replace your husband. take ur pick man

[he-calls-me-kitten]

Recently got busy and haven't had time to be around at all .. I just skimmed through whatever I have missed while I was away and I realized how badly I missed your writing style... It's just so ue2ge8eh27db❤️❤️⁉️⁉️ I can't really explain it.. its scrumptious, very very yummy... So I come with a little request... We know the obey men are quite and as a short girlie that's just like so fucking attractive like?????????? Sirrrr???? 😖😖

Imaginee... getting picked up by them and quite literally hanging off their cock as they just dangle you in the air, your feet not touching the ground as they just fuck yiu silly, watching your writhe and sob as their cock leaves a bulge on your stomach as you claw at their arms. They don't even gotta be trying, your just go dumb on their cock, crying how it's too big and having them bully themselves in you...

Basically that prompt with barbatos, Simeon and beel

I'm a very horny Tumblr user as you can tell LMAO

Love you though, take rests, eat, drink, stay healthy, darling. Mwah 💋

-M. 🪭🪷

Oh my god look who's back?!!! Hey M!!! Missed you loads, hopefully life eases up on you, busy little thing! Thank you for checking in, it means the world ❤️

And your ideas...just *chef's kiss*. Here's another treat for the short AFAB folks with size kink out there!!!

Little Body Big Heat

Afab! MC x Barbatos, Simeon, Beelzebub

Barbatos mock apologizes as you pant and plead him to stop. But he's barely even doing anything really. All he's doing is just standing there, carrying you in his arms, holding you so close.

You're the one struggling and twitching to take him in more or push him out. The way you are writhing - he genuinely cannot tell but he sure is enjoying the show.

"MC, use your words, won't you? I'm sorry I can't understand you when you're like this, my love." He coos, brushing hair away from your face.

"Mhhmm- B-Barb please.... please it's too much. Please ....just... help me move..." You struggled to string a sentence together.

And he finally the gracious butler takes pity on you. You're asking so nicely after all.

"Is this better?" He moves so painfully slow, you whine into his ears. "Oh? Would you like me to be... faster?" He kisses your neck, feeling the vibrations of your delightful complains, which soon would turn into delightful screams. And he wants everyone to hear them too.

Simeon's angelic side simply ceases to exist when it comes to his desire for you. Honestly what were you thinking falling asleep, sitting on his lap. Don't you know he already has a hard time behaving himself around you?

"Did you have a good sleep, MC?" He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you closer for a kiss. "As you can see...I've run into quite the problem. I can't go home to Luke while I'm like this now, can I?"

You take some time to come to your senses. After all, it's not every day you wake up with Simeon's erection between your legs.

"Would you like to use me...to calm it down?" You gingerly try to hold him down there, it took both of your hands yet he was still much too big for you. He made a low groan at the contact.

"Really, you wouldn't mind?" He asks even as his fingers are already touching your waist, slowly pulling off your top.

"Your sense of duty is really admirable, MC." He chuckles as he pulls off your shorts, now undoing his own pants. "Now then, where would you like me?"

"You...can choose." You let him feast on you with his eyes and hands, enciting soft whimpers and moans. His fingers delight at the wetness pooled between your legs, toying with you before pressing his erection against your puffy clit.

He pushes into your hole, stretching you out but before you can't even let out a sound. His tongue is inside your mouth devouring your screams. You've taken him in so well. He can feel himself bulge out your stomach. "Does that feel good, my little lamb?"

You nod even tears collect at the corner of your eyes. "So good..so... full... It's toobiigg... you'resooo big S-Simeon... please..." Oh how he loves doing this to you.

Beelzebub's length is only the second most dangerous thing about him. The first is his stamina. You realise this now as you have been pressed against his lockers for what feels like hours. Your feet haven't touched the ground in so long.

"Beel...a-are you still.. not done..." You watched him pant, looking at you with a frenzied look in his eyes. When you told him you'd help him get his mind off food, this is not how he thought it would go.

"Beel! I-I know you're really famished ..but ...but you can't... keep...doing this...ahhhmn..mnhn Beel I'm about to...cum again...stop please..." He kept sucking your slick up, right through your orgasm. Talk about overstimulation.

He already tormented you with his tongue down there till you were leaking through your underwear. And now that he was too aroused to calm down, you simply had to let him fuck you. "Just...one last time, MC. I promise."

Yeah sure. He said that two rounds ago. Seriously you wondered how you had not passed out yet. But then again, everytime he moved - you swear he kept discovering a new pleasure point inside you.

"MC your face right now...you look so cute...I'm sorry I couldn't stop myself...and you feel so warm..." He plunged in and out of you again, bouncing you on his dick effortlessly. Of course he hasn't thought about food, he's been too busy devouring you.

[msmk11]

🍾 yelena and 33 please?

33: “I thought I lost you.”

Thanks for the shot! I haven’t written for Yelena in forever and it reminded me that 1) I’m obsessed with her and 2) I desperately need to see Thunderbolts.

Check out the rest of my party here!

Staring Problem

Yelena Belova x gn!reader

WC: 1.4k

CW: explosions, blood, broken bones, brush with death, guns, violence; angst, hurt/comfort, fluff ending

Summary: you think your staring almost gets your girlfriend killed

“You are not paying attention,” Yelena huffs, her hazel eyes never leaving the target across the street.

“Hmmm?”

“Pay attention!” She insists, elbowing you in the ribs hard enough to finally wake you from your stupor.

“Shit! What was that for?” You protest, rubbing your side. You shift your feet to ease the aching pain in your back from crouching behind a wall for the past half hour.

“You are staring at me instead of staying focused on the mission.”

You should be embarrassed about being caught, but you’re not. Yelena- your girlfriend of one year- is quite literally the prettiest person on planet earth, in your own humble opinion. You can’t help but be distracted by the firm set of her jaw when she focuses, how you wish you could trace your lips across the line. And the way stray tendrils of blonde hair frame her face as they’ve fallen out of her intricate braids throughout the day. You’d like to tuck them back behind her ear, and usually she’d let you, but not now, not during a mission.

“Oh, so I’m not allowed to look at my girlfriend now?” You pout teasingly, even jutting out your lower lip for extra effect.

Yelena’s eyes trail to you momentarily and you swear she blushes a little, “do not give me that look. You know I cannot resist it and you know we need to be focused right now.”

“Fine, fine,” you whine, “but at least let me-“

You reach out to fix her strand of hair and that’s when the explosion goes off. Suddenly, you’re flying through the air, away from Yelena, landing on your back on the hard concrete rooftop. Your ears ring and any shouts or screams are muffled. Through the smoke you can barely see nor breathe and you curl onto your side, coughing and gasping for air. You try to stumble to your feet in your daze and you nearly topple back down.

Though you know you should be looking for the perpetrator, your mind only thinks of Yelena, your thoughts racing about whether she’s okay. If she’s hurt. If she’s alive. You wander through the debris, screaming her name- at least you think you are, since you still can’t really hear.

You spot her foot first, black boot sticking out of a pile of smoking rubble. You run towards her and shove the concrete away. Your heart pounds in your chest and a sob escapes your throat. She looks bad. Her face is bloody and bruised and her eyes are closed. You’re worried she’s dead, and when you put your fingers to her neck you don’t find a pulse. Panic surges through your stomach and you think you’re gonna be sick. But then you feel it, the faintest pulse. A sign that she’s still alive, even if barely.

You cup her face, calling her name over and over, tears running down your dirty cheeks. She stirs just a little and you freeze, eyes studying her hopefully. Her hazel eyes barely peek out from beneath her lids and she taps your finger. Her lips move and you frown, moving closer. You still can’t hear what she says because of her hoarseness and your deafness, but you read what her lips say:

“Go after him.”

It’s the last thing you want to do, and every instinct in you resists, as well as your body that is screaming in pain. But you know she’s right. You have a job to do, and Yelena will kill you if you don’t finish it. You stagger up, taking the gun holstered to her hip and charge towards the now obliterated wall. You spot the target just seconds before he spots you and you jump, scaling down the wall quickly as you set off on a foot chase after the son of a bitch.

He’s fast, especially in your bloody and bruised state, but adrenaline keeps you going. He weaves through the crowd of screaming people and you follow hot on his tail, shoving anything and anyone out of the way. In a small clearing you pull the gun, feet pounding the pavement as you pull the trigger. It hits him in the shoulder, sending him sprawling forward. You don’t give the bastard a chance to get up before you grab him by the scruff of his collar and flip him over, clocking him in the jaw, once, twice, three times.

He grunts in pain with each blow, but he still manages to grab your ankle and tug you down with him. Your gun scatters across the cobblestone street and you try to reach for it, but he yanks you away, flipping you onto your back. The blow hurts, especially when you realize some of your ribs are most definitely already broken. The target lands a blow to your stomach and you cry out in pain. He gets in another blow before you catch his arm on the third try and twist, right where the bullet hole in his shoulder sits. He yelps and that gives you the advantage to flip him back over. You scramble up and grab the gun, taking him out with one final bang.

After you’d killed the target, you’d made your way back to Yelena, who was already being transported on a stretcher to the ambulance. You’d tried to get close but they held you back, insisting they needed to assess you while they rushed her off to emergency care. The exhaustion and pain eventually forced you to give in as you were also whisked off to the hospital.

Many hours and bandages later, you’d finally been allowed to see Yelena who was still in rough condition, but alive. She was hooked up to a million monitors and machines, her face covered in cuts and bruises as she breathed somewhat normally. You’ve taken residence in an uncomfortable chair beside her bed, one thumb pushed between your teeth and the other stroking soothing circles over your girlfriend’s scarred hand. Even in her broken state, she’s still the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen.

Nothing could change that.

You’re so focused on her closed eyes that you don’t notice the twitch of her lips into a half smirk.

“You are staring again,” she croaks, her voice unmistakable even if hoarse.

Your heart pounds in your chest as her eyes slowly flutter open, revealing a sparkle in the hazel pools despite her critical state.

A disbelieving laugh escapes you and you brush your lips over her knuckles, “am I not allowed to stare at and worry over my very injured girlfriend?”

Yelena scoffs softly, eyes twinkling with mischief, “very injured? Please, these are just a few cuts and bruises. You should see the other guy.”

She pauses, her tone a little more somber, “you killed him, right?”

“Yes, I did.”

The blonde relaxes, “good.”

You kiss her palm this time and your lips linger there thoughtfully.

“I thought I lost you,” you mumble into her skin.

“What?”

“Today, after the explosion. I thought I lost you.” Your voice trembles, “and it would’ve been my fault. I- I was distracting you and-“

“Moya lyubov (my love)…Look at me.”

You refuse to meet her eyes and she huffs, “you always have a looking problem until I need you to look at me. Come on, show me those pretty eyes.”

Finally, you reluctantly look up at her, the usual color glossed over with unshed tears, and Yelena’s face softens. This time she brings your hand to her lips.

“Moya lyubov, you really think a little bomb is going to keep me from you? You know I am stubborn. I am not going anywhere.”

She strokes your hand soothingly, “Also, it is not your fault. You could not have known there was a bomb.”

Your voice breaks, “but I distracted you and-“

“There is nothing you could have done,” she insists.

Your eyes scan hers for any hint of deceit or insincerity, but you find none. She nods to you, patting the bed beside her.

When you try to protest that you don’t want to hurt her, Yelena interrupts you again, “I am your injured girlfriend. You have to do what I say. And I say that you have to cuddle me.”

You huff, muttering something under your breath about her being stubborn as you gingerly sit beside her on the bed. Your girlfriend pulls you closer and cups your jaw, hazel eyes roaming over your face.

“Who has the staring problem now?” You tease, as you lean in and capture her lips.

[juletheghoul]

sending you so much love and affection omg

now imagine acacius takimg care of girlwife (YOU!!!) when she’s sick

She probably worked when she was still a slave and sick so she’s not used to staying in bed and not doing anything

Until Acacius finds her sniffling and coughing and wrapping a shawl tighter around her shoulders and everything inside him just tenses up because he wants to pick her up and wrap her in blankets and love and hold her until she gets better (he gets sick in the process)

literally you are all so fucking amazing for these requests and I love them, please enjoy xoxo

warnings: lovesick Marcus, actual sick you (before his confession, but after you've been intimate)

Masterlist series masterlist

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Your head aches, and the sun is far too bright. 

With a groan, and a bone deep shiver you rise from your bed, and move through the motions. The water in your basin feels cold as ice, as does the floor beneath your feet. You don’t want to admit it, but you can feel the fever burning right through you. Every fibre of your being urges you to crawl back into bed, to pull the blanket up tight and sleep it off but alas, there is work to be done and your time is not your own.

The women in the kitchen see it on your face as soon as you walk in. They try to direct you back to your chambers but you brush them away, it is not in your nature to disappoint, it is most definitely not in your nature to leave your duties for someone else. With a defeated sigh, you accept the tea they press into your hands, you sit where they point to and finish it before going about your day. 

The tea does help, and you manage to wash Marcus’ linens, albeit slower than usual. He finds you as you hang them, frowning at the state of you. 

“What is the matter, Girl?” He comes close, watching the way you move as though wading through thick honey.

“Apologies Dominus, I am moving as fast as I can.” You crouch down, holding onto the basket for stability. His hands pull you up and into his arms. He hisses at the touch. 

“Your skin is hot as fire, come, leave this.” He pulls you towards the house, you try to fight him. 

“I must finish–”

“You must rest. Come.” His command is iron, and you have no choice but to obey. He holds onto your waist, drapes your arm around his neck and within a few moments you are in your bed. He leaves you there, but only for a moment. 

“Warm tea, and stew will be brought to you.” A wave of something roils in your belly, an embarrassment at being so weak, at being confined to your chambers. That he must care for you brings you shame. 

“Dominus, I can still be of use, forgive my weakness.” You cough, your body shaking with the effort of it. 

“Nonsense Girl, there is no weakness that I can see. I need you healthy in order to serve me, and until you are once more you will stay in bed.” He sits beside you, his hand rubs at your arm, a tender, unexpectedly soothing thing. It almost makes you want to cry. A sniffle escapes, one he does not miss.

“Are you in pain?” His hand cups your face, and the tears escape.

“No Dominus, I just…” You take a deep breath, let out a deep sigh, “I am overwhelmed.” You wipe them away, hide from his gaze. 

“Shall I stay until you fall asleep?” He turns your face, sweeps a thumb under your eye and the feeling swells bigger still.

“I do not want to inconvenience you Dominus, I know well that your time is precious.” He mumbles something, something that sounds an awful lot like not so precious as you, but your head aches and you cannot trust your senses.

“I will dictate what is worthy of my time, come.” He lays beside you, and opens his arms. With a sob, you cling to him, take in his warmth and succumb to sleep. 

---

[seraphmeraph]

Decided to change it up a bit

Headcanons - Lin Kuei brothers

MK1 NSFW headcanons of Tomas Vrbada, Kuai Liang, and Bi Han.

TW: oral sex, p in v, praise kink, gn but might be a hint of afab, rough sex, degrading.

A/N: feel free to send requests cause I can't think. I didn't proof read again so sorry about that

Tomas Vrbada • Smoke

Needs constant reassurance when you guys get intimate.

You can't stay quiet around this man because he's gonna start overthinking and believe that he's not pleasuring you enough.

"Am I doing good, my princess?" Tomas asks, his voice laced with worry, his head buried between your thighs, lapping away at your heat. If you don't praise him, he'll get sad. "Please, are you feeling good?" He says, trying his hardest to hear your compliments, curling his fingers inside you.

He is literally so scared of hurting you; he immediately stopped and comforted you the first time he heard you whimper. Even after you tell him it's just a response, he still peppers your face with kisses, telling you how good you feel wrapped around his cock.

Tomas doesn't hold back with his volume, moaning and groaning in your ear. This guy definitely whimpers if you tease him enough.

He was gentle yet quick with his thrusts. "Mmph!" He bit his lip, feeling himself nearing his release, but he wanted to prolong your pleasure. "So warm…" He moaned into your ear.

Kuai Liang • Scorpion

Kuai Liang cannot keep his hands off you, even in public. He often tenderly holds onto your waist, playfully whispering suggestive things into your ear.

"I can't wait til you take this dress off," Kuai whispered, his warm fingers digging into your skin.

He loves it when you make marks on him, of course, where nobody can see. Scratch at his back, give him hickeys, love bites. He loves seeing your markings on his body.

He goes feral for cowgirl. Seeing you bounce up and down on his cock, the way your heat sinks down perfectly onto his dick. It's his favorite position, and you can tell by the way he moans and grabs at your body, touching you all over.

"You're doing wonderful," He groaned, mesmerized by how your heat swallowed his cock. "Just like that, my love." One hand grabbed at your breasts while the other rested on your thigh.

As you approach your climax, he'll tell you how much of a good girl you are and how much he loves you. He'll basically walk you through your release.

Bi Han • Sub Zero

He loves making you beg. He will edge you for hours to hear you whine and whimper his name.

"Bi-Bi Han," You choked out a sob. "Please, please let me come," You tried to reason. You were sat on his cock at his desk as he wrote something on a scroll. As you tried to wiggle, his grip was tight on your hip, keeping you in place.

"Be a good whore and stop moving," He sneered. "Maybe if you beg enough, I'll let you."

He gets jealous VERY easily. Seeing a man strike up a friendly conversation with you? His hands will be wrapped around you in seconds. As soon as you both are in private, you better pray. It's going to be a rough night.

Loves hair pulling, spanking, and leaving hickeys on you.

He presses his hand against your stomach to feel himself sliding in and out. It drives him crazy and makes him impossibly more possessive.

Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, he'll make the room chillier, ice forming under his fingertips. Occasionally he'll make his cock cold, groaning as your pussy warms it up. When he comes in you, you'll feel a cold and cool sensation in your stomach.

"Such a good slut, all wet and ready for me," He spoke, as he slid his dick in between your folds, teasing you. His tip was cold and made shivers run through your body. He slowly entered you, your warmth enveloping him.

[thewulf]

Bound by Shadows || Azriel

Summary: Request - I'm hoping you could write a fanfic where reader, Feyre's twin, who actually killed the wolf but let Feyre take the credit... and before she realizes what she's done Feyre is gone. She struggles with guilt and isolation in Velaris after the sisters transformation by the Cauldron.... Read Rest Here

A/N: OKAY I LOVE THIS. It got away from me a bit. I didn't realize how fun this world would be to dive into. Let me know your thoughts as always :)

Pairing: Azriel Shadowsinger x Female Reader (Feyre Archeron Twin Sister)

Word Count: 8.2k +

TW: General ACOTAR TW

Under the starlit skies of Velaris the City of Starlight pulses with a life of its own. Its vibrant lights reflecting off the river with laughter and music filling the air, breathing life into every cobblestone and corner. But for you the city’s brilliance only deepens the shadows that cling to your soul. Shadows that no light seems capable of dispelling.

You walked alone. Your steps aimless being driven by the restless guilt that gnaws incessantly at your conscience. Every whisper of the wind seems to accuse you, every glance from a passerby seems to pierce through the facade you barely maintain. The weight of the secret you harbor presses down on you with every step… the wolf, the woods, the dreadful slice of the arrow that was meant to protect Feyre not harm her. But Feyre stepped forward and shouldered the blame. She was taken from you in an instant and forced to face the horrors of the faerie lands. It was all to shield you her twin she thought of being too gentle, too fragile for the brutal truths of that world.

The transformation wrought by the Cauldron has only magnified everything. Every emotion, every fear, every shard of guilt. It was supposed to be a rebirth but for you it feels more like a slow descent into a nightmare from which you cannot awaken. The power that now courses through your veins feels like chains. A constant reminder of the price paid to the mother. Of the freedom you don’t believe you deserve.

As you wander through the bustling streets the sounds of celebration around you clash violently with the turmoil within. Families and lovers share warm, joyous moments. Their laughter echoing in the crisp night air while you drift among them. You were simply a specter unseen, untouched by the light of their joy. Your heart aches with a loneliness so profound it threatens to consume you whole. To reduce your existence to a mere shadow of regret and sorrow.

You find yourself on one of the many ornate bridges spanning the Sidra. A place you often found some sort of solace in. You leaned over the balustrade to gaze into the dark waters below. The reflection of the city’s lights dances across the surface, a stark contrast to the darkness that seems to stretch endlessly beneath. It is here in the quiet far enough away from the eyes of those who know you, those who worry over you, that your facade finally cracks.

Tears that were unbidden and unwelcome, spill over, tracing cold paths down your cheeks. You are tired. So incredibly tired of pretending. Of hiding the depth of your pain. You wish to scream so loud. To let out the anguish that fills you, but your voice is as lost as your soul feels in the face of your endless guilt. Instead, you just stare down at the dark waters with silent sobs wracking your body. It was better this way. You couldn’t let Feyre see you like this. She was finally so happy. So happy with her mate. Her Rhysand. You couldn’t threaten that happiness. You owed her so much more than that. You quite literally owed her your life. So, you would suck it up in solace. Cry it out on your own.

In the solitude of the night, you allowed yourself to feel your overwhelming emotions. To acknowledge the pain and the darkness. Little did you know you are not as alone as you believe. From the shadows an Illyrian figure watches you. His own heart heavy with unspoken secrets. Azriel was the spymaster of night court for a reason. He picked up on you disappearing for hours at a time when the others didn’t. He picked up on the fake smiles you threw everyone’s way. He seemed to pick up on it while the others didn’t… other than Feyre who seemed to watch you just as much as he did. He decided he would watch over you. For Feyre, his brothers mate. And for you. The woman who couldn’t seem to get used to being Fae as easily as your sisters did. The human turned Fae that consumed more of his thoughts than he cared to admit.

But for now, he waited behind his shadows. A silent guardian in the night recognizing that some battles must be faced alone before they can be shared.

You returned from the bustling markets of Velaris with arms laden with the myriad items Feyre requested. As you approach the townhouse the warm light from within spills out onto the cobblestones. It was a stark contrast to the dusk settling over the city. You pause at the door steeling yourself with a deep breath before stepping inside. Your smile as you hand the bags to Feyre doesn't quite reach your eyes. But she's too caught up in the moment to notice.

"Thank you so much," she says with a relief evident as she starts to unpack the food you’d volunteered to pick up for her. She pauses before she got too carried away giving you that look, the one you've come to know so well. The one that silently implores you to stay. To be a part of her world. "Will you stay for dinner? Everyone's coming over. Even Amren agreed to come. It would mean so much to me."

Her eyes are pleading and you know you can't refuse. Not when she's given up so much for you. With a nod you agree even as your stomach tightens at the thought of facing everyone. It was easy to fake your inner turmoil when it was only her or Rhys. But when it was the entirety of the Inner Circle it was harder to hide away. Inevitably someone would get you hooked in on a conversation. You haven't sat down with them since… well, since before the Cauldron. Since before everything changed. And that was almost an entire year ago now. You knew this request would come sooner or later. Though you were hoping for later you were going to suck it up for Feyre.

As the evening wears on the townhouse fills with laughter and conversation with everyone gathering in the familiar camaraderie that once felt like home to you. But now you feel like an outsider watching from the shadows even as you sit among them. At the dinner table you're terribly quiet. You were merely pushing food around your plate listening to the ebb and flow of conversations you can't force yourself to seem to join.

Feyre decided to sit beside you in hopes of calming your nerves. She notices. She notices the way your eyes were downturned. The way you occasionally nodded your head or smiled briefly pretending to be listening. The way you didn’t pick your fork up once. Her joy fades a little each time she glances your way. You didn’t notice the way her expression turned from mirth to concern. She squeezed your hand under the table in a silent message of solidarity and love. But even her touch can't pull you from the fog that's settled over you. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was your punishment? To live in a hazed state for thousands of years? Oh, how you wished to be a tiny little human again with the promise of dead after a hundred years or so.

Rhysand sat at the head of the table catches Feyre’s subtle, worried glances towards her twin. She meets his eyes with a silent conversation passing between them. She didn’t know what to do anymore. She needed help. He nods slightly. His expression was solemn, understanding the depth of her worry. His gaze then shifts to you filled with a quiet resolve. He knew you were struggling but didn’t pick up on just how much you were. You’d done a masterful job until tonight hiding it away.

Rhysand had felt the ripple of concern from Feyre long before she voiced it. Her distress over your withdrawal echoing within him. She watched you with a sister's keen eye and her silent worry bled into their shared bond. A testament to her deep care for you.

Azriel, Feyre is troubled by Y/N's state. As am I. Rhysand's thought reached out to his brother that was sitting next to you. There was a thread of urgency woven through the mental call. She's pulling away and Feyre feels it deeply. Keep an eye on her please? Help her if you can.

Azriel's presence in Rhysand's mind was immediate and calm. He was steady force amid the silent storm of concern. I'm already on it, Rhys. I’ve sensed it too, he assured. His mental voice as composed as the shadows he commanded. You don't need to worry. I’ve been watching over her not out of obligation, but because... because she matters to me. I’ll make sure she’s safe and supported.

Azriel’s vigilance came not from an order but from a place of quiet solidarity. His attunement to the nuances of emotion and the unspoken had already drawn him to your side. Rhysand’s request merely echoed the actions he’d already undertaken. His actions were born from a blend of duty and a deep, personal concern that Azriel rarely let show. In the face of Feyre's distress and now Rhysand’s request, he became a silent sentinel for you. He needed to ensure that you were not only protected but also truly seen and understood.

Dinner continues around you as you withdrew into yourself. The laughter a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within you. You're barely aware of Azriel's presence on your other side until you feel him beside you. His chair slightly closer than usual. His voice is soft, almost lost in the surrounding noise, as he leans in. "You don't have to be anything you're not, not here," he murmurs only for you to hear. "It’s okay to just be. To just breathe." His words meant to comfort felt like a lifeline in the sea of your tumultuous thoughts. You didn’t look at him for you were worried tears might spill over. But you nodded in acknowledgement letting him know that you heard him.

The evening slowly winds down and as the others linger over drinks and stories Azriel stays by your side. His presence a steady promise of understanding and patience. He doesn't push you to talk nor does he expect smiles. Instead, he offers the silent support you didn't know you needed, becoming a guardian not just of your safety, but of your peace.

Feyre watches this exchange with a glimmer of hope lighting up her worried features. Perhaps with Azriel's help you might find your way back to them. To yourself. Tonight, though, is just a small step in your journey back to yourself.

As everyone departs for the night you linger in the living room feigning interest in tidying up the small mess left behind. Feyre watches you for a moment with that same concern etching her features. But she decided against speaking, sensing your need for space.

Once the house is quiet you decide to step out for a walk under the night sky of Velaris. It had become your favorite routine. A routine that kept you grounded. A quick walk to your favorite spot on the Sidra. The city's soft lights reflect gently on the river casting dancing patterns on the water. It's beautiful yet the sight does little to ease the tightness in your chest.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice Azriel's approach until he's almost beside you. His presence is calming and somehow it doesn't startle you. Perhaps because in your heart you know he understands the need for quiet. His own demeanor is often just as reserved.

"Good evening," he says. His voice a low rumble. "Care for some company or would you prefer solitude tonight?"

You consider his offer for a moment. Company might not be so bad even though this was usually just a place for you. But it was Azriel. Someone who respects the silence as much as you do. "Company sounds nice, thank you," you reply with your voice softer than you intended.

Azriel nods falling into step beside you. As you walk his shadows play at your feet. It was a subtle yet comforting gesture. At one point one of his shadows curls around your hand. This small, almost imperceptible touch from his shadows offers a silent, comforting presence that envelops you in a sense of security. Neither of you speaks as you walk along the riverbank. The only sounds was the gentle lapping of water against the shore and the distant hum of the city. The silence between you is more than comfortable, filled with an unspoken understanding that words can sometimes be too cumbersome.

After a while though Azriel speaks up. He wasn’t looking at you but staring out at the water. "It's easy to feel lost in this city… even with its lights and crowds. Sometimes it feels like being surrounded by shadows even in the brightest part of the day."

You glance at him, surprised by the reflection of your own feelings in his words. "Yes, it does," you agree. You were feeling a weight lift slightly knowing that someone else understands.

He nods slightly at your words, "The shadows aren't all there is though. There are places, moments like these, that can offer some respite. And not all shadows are bad." He smiles looking down at the ones that clung to your feet.

His words make you look at him anew. You weren’t just seeing the spymaster or the warrior but someone who also seeks to find balance between the light and the dark. It makes you wonder if perhaps in this shared moment you might find a way to navigate your own shadows. They might not all be bad you had to agree with him.

You don't say much more as you walk back to the townhouse, but the silent agreement hangs between you, comforting and promising. Maybe, just maybe, you're not as alone as you thought.

The dawn is still a whisper of light across Velaris as you sit quietly by the Sidra. The gentle murmur of the river a soothing background to your thoughts that never seemed to shut the hell up. Lost in the reflections of the dancing water you hardly notice Azriel’s approach until he’s beside you. His presence as quiet as the morning. It was becoming a routine for him to join you on the river it seemed. Not that you minded. He might be the one person you’d happily accept to intrude on your solitude.

“You’re up early,” he remarks softly not wanting to startle you. His tone as gentle as the river’s flow.

You look up with a soft smile on your face. His familiar, reassuring presence is a comfort. “Just needed some air,” you reply with a yawn. Your voice carrying the weight of another sleepless night.

Azriel nods, understanding. He looks out over the water for a moment sharing the silence with you. Then, turning back to you, he suggests, “Come with me. I think I have something that might help clear your head. Help you to focus a bit.”

You’re hesitant. The idea of doing anything but sitting quietly feels daunting. But there’s something about his offer. The promise of relief, however temporary, that nudges you to your feet.

“It’s just training,” he adds. seeing your uncertainty. “Physical activity can be a good way to let out some of the emotions that are harder to express in words. We’ll take it slow. You set the pace.”

Trusting Azriel’s judgment, knowing he wouldn’t push you into something without reason, you stand and follow him towards the training grounds. The city is quietly waking around you and the walk is silent but comfortable. His presence a steady reassurance by your side. Something you were slowly growing to cherish.

As you reach the secluded training area the first rays of sunlight begin to warm the cool morning air. Azriel gives you a small, encouraging smile. “Let’s start simple. No pressure. Just you learning to trust your strength again.”

The training starts at an easy pace. Azriel guiding you through basic maneuvers. His patience was evident. But as your body begins to warm up with the activity and your focus sharpens on the movements. There was that sense of release you never knew could come. It was unfamiliar yet welcome that starts to take hold on you.

As the morning sun climbs higher the training session progresses under Azriel's watchful eye. You find yourself gradually syncing with the rhythm of the physical exertion. Each movement flushing out the restless energy that has been building up inside you. Azriel's guidance is firm yet encouraging and you start to feel a rare sense of accomplishment as you slowly master each new maneuver he throws at you.

But as the session intensifies Azriel begins to push you harder, increasing the pace and complexity of the drills. His softness changed into some else. You knew he was only pushing you to help but it was starting to become a little too much. You’d only been Fae for a year to his centuries. "Come on, Y/N, focus. You can handle this," he urges. Throwing a series of rapid, controlled strikes that you're meant to block and counter.

For a moment you rise to the challenge your movements sharp and sure. Yet the physical strain is relentless. All too soon it starts to mirror the inner struggled you've been trying to manage. The boundaries between physical exertion and emotional pain blur… each block and dodge feeling more like a fight against your inner demons rather than a simple training exercise.

Suddenly, one of Azriel's strikes comes a little too close, a little too fast. It isn't meant to hit you and it doesn't but the rush of air as it passes by your face triggers something within you. Panic seizes your chest and the walls you've been holding up begin to crumble. Your movements falter. Your hands drop to your sides rapidly as your breath catches in your throat.

You step back abruptly with short, ragged breaths. Azriel stops immediately, concern replacing the intensity in his eyes. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks all too softly this time. He watched with concern as you struggled to compose yourself.

You nod rapidly trying to blink back the tears that want to rush out. “I’m fine. Just tired.” You murmur. It didn’t even sound believable to you. You turned you back to him so he wouldn’t see the distraught look on your face.

He steps forward with a sadness etched deeply on his features. "It's more than just tiredness, isn't it?" he asks gently as he reached out but stopped short, giving you space yet showing his readiness to support.

You shake your head again trying to compose yourself. Willing yourself to rebuild the barriers crumbling around you. "I'm fine, really, just got a little carried away," you offer weakly with your back still turned, fearing that facing him might reveal too much.

But Azriel doesn’t retreat. Instead, his shadows do what he physically refrains from—they reach out for you. You feel a cool, soothing sensation as one shadow gently curls around your arm, not binding but comforting. It was like a silent message of empathy and support. The unexpected kindness, the soft touch of darkness that doesn’t demand or judge, only seeks to comfort. But it undoes you completely.

Your defenses shatter at the tender contact. Tears finally spilling over as you turn back to face him. The floodgates opened by the gentle brush of his shadow. "I'm not fine," you admit, your voice choked with emotion. "It's all just... it's too much sometimes. I feel like I'm drowning in what I had to do. In what Feyre had to endure because of me. All because of me."

Azriel listens with his gaze never wavering. His eyes were filled with compassion and a profound understanding. His shadow retracts slightly giving you a moment, respecting your space while keeping the silent promise of his presence.

He nods his head willing you to continue. "Let it out, Y/N. You don't have to carry this alone," he says quietly finding the courage to step closer now. He opened his arms to you in an offer of comfort that you no longer have the strength to refuse.

As you step into his embrace, allowing yourself to be held, the warmth of his body contrasts with the cool touch of his shadows creating a cocoon of safety around you. "I was the one who killed the wolf that started this whole mess," you confess through sobs. Your words muffled against his chest. "Feyre took the blame to protect me... because she thought I couldn't handle the consequences."

“It’s okay,” he whispers. His voice close to your ear. “You were never meant to carry this alone.” He pauses. His hand gently lifting your chin so you can look at him. “Feyre’s path was her own. Fate had a hand in it. She was meant to meet Rhysand through Tamlin. To find her way to the Night Court. It couldn’t have been you, Y/N. Your path is different and it’s still unfolding.”

You shake your head feeling the weight of it all. “But-“

Azriel’s hold tightens reassuringly. His wings stretched around you before he stops you. “She did what she believed was right, out of love. And now you need to allow yourself to be loved and supported, too. Let your family be here for you. Let me be here for you.” he pleads, his tone imbued with a promise. In the safety of Azriel’s wings with the gentle embrace of his shadows, you feel a lightness you haven’t felt in a long time.

Beneath the shelter of his wings Azriel holds you close feeling the profound shift within as your eyes meet. In that moment a golden thread previously unseen but always present tightens, binding your soul to his. The mating bond ignites with a radiant force, undeniable and transformative.

This newfound connection stirs a deep protectiveness in Azriel, an urge to cherish and guard you that feels both ancient and freshly awakened. Love pulses through this bond unspoken yet palpable aligning his heartbeat with yours. He experiences a profound sense of belonging, understanding now that every moment with you, every shared concern, was leading to this revelation.

With the emergence of the bond, Azriel, who often cloaked himself in mystery, finds in you a clarity that illuminates his existence. This bond does not overwhelm; instead, it completes him, brightening his path forward. The world around him expands promising a journey not walked alone but side by side, in step with each breath.

Yet, the magnitude of this discovery brings a mix of elation and a daunting sense of responsibility. You are vulnerable, your soul laid bare before him, and he is cautious not to burden you further. Internally, Azriel grapples with the desire to declare the bond versus the need to provide you with stability and support without the shock of this revelation.

He resolves to keep this monumental discovery to himself for now, focusing on being your steadfast support. His shadows as a subtle extension of his will, curl gently around you both. They offered a protection and comfort without overwhelming you with the truth.

Azriel knows he must seek Rhysand’s counsel to navigate the complexities of this bond with sensitivity and respect for your emotions. As he holds you he silently vows to take this journey at a pace that honors both your readiness and the bond’s potential. Wrapped in his embrace, Azriel stands as your guardian bonded by fate yet guided by a deep respect for the journey your heart needs to undertake.

"You've been strong today," Azriel whispers into your hair as he senses your grip tighten. "Let's head back home. You need rest." His voice is as soothing as the twilight and his offer is tender, without any urgency that might hint at the truth simmering beneath his calm exterior.

The walk back from the training grounds is quiet, filled with a companionable silence that speaks of shared struggles and mutual care. As Azriel guides you to Feyre's studio, where she immerses herself in swathes of color and light, his touch lingers reassuringly on your arm. It's an affirmation of his presence, his support, his unspoken pledge to be there for you, come what may.

You offer him a soft smile. One that acknowledges the solace his presence brings even though you were still oblivious to the tectonic shift in his inner landscape. Azriel returns your smile with a quiet intensity, a vow that when the time comes for the bond to reveal itself to you he'll be there, just as he is now—steadfast, protective, and utterly devoted.

A subtle shift in Azriel’s demeanor as he prepares to leave catches Feyre's sharp eye. There's a fleeting tension, a trace of something potent and profound flickering in the depths of his usually inscrutable eyes. It's a glimpse of vulnerability. An undercurrent of panic that he's quick to disguise but not before Feyre takes note. Something significant has unsettled the shadowsinger and it likely had to do with you.

With a nod that holds more gravity than usual Azriel turns to go. His steps are measured but the urgency in his exit is apparent to anyone who knows him well. Once he steps beyond the view of the townhouse his wings unfurl, a dark silhouette against the Velaris skyline. He takes to the air with a speed driven by the need for counsel. For understanding the newly realized bond weighing on him with a mix of awe and anxiety.

He lands at the House of Wind with an intensity that is uncharacteristic for him. His feet touching down on the stone with a thud. There's no time for hesitation as he makes his way to where he knows he'll find Rhysand, perhaps Cassian too. The door to the study bursts open under his force and he stands there as a figure riddled with the shock of his own heart's awakening.

Inside the study, Rhysand and Cassian pause mid-conversation as the unexpected clamor announces Azriel's approach. Concern flickers over their faces. A stark, thunderous arrival is not Azriel's way.

"Are you alright, Az?" Cassian is the first to react. His voice tinged with concern as he notes Azriel's agitated state.

Azriel pauses before catching his breath. His demeanor one of a man grappling with overwhelming news. "It's the mating bond," he manages to say with his voice tight of emotion. "With Y/N—it just... it just snapped into place."

Rhysand rises from his chair. His expression shifting to one of understanding as he processes Azriel's words. The air in the room thickens with the significance of his declaration and there's a moment of collective stillness as they all absorb the meaning.

Cassian’s previous levity fades into a solemn gravity, reflecting the seriousness of Azriel's revelation. "That’s... big news, Az. How are you feeling about this?" he asks as he stepped closer in caution.

Rhysand, maintaining his composure, offers a supportive nod. "This is a momentous time, Azriel. We’re here for you, whatever you need," he assures him embodying the role of the leader who understands the profound implications of such a bond.

Azriel exhales deeply the reality of the situation settling in. "It's overwhelming," he concedes. A frown creasing his brow. "I mean, I hoped, maybe even wished for it. But now that it’s here, it feels... heavy." He looks up. His expression serious. "She’s still healing. I need to be careful. Need to make sure this doesn’t overwhelm her."

Rhysand gives a supportive nod. "Just keep being there for her, Az. You’ve always managed to support her without pushing. This doesn’t change your approach just your understanding of the connection."

Cassian smirks, pushing off from the table and clapping Azriel on the back with a bit more force than necessary. "Look at you all serious and broody—more than usual, I mean. Come on, Az, you know you're probably the only one who can handle this with the perfect blend of mystery. Besides," he adds with a wry grin, "have you seen the way she looks at you when you're not looking? That’s not just gratitude my friend. It’s like she’s hit the jackpot and she doesn’t even know it yet."

Azriel can’t help but crack a small smile despite the turmoil inside. "Thanks, Cass. I just don’t want to mess this up."

"Don’t worry so much, brother," Cassian chuckles, his tone light but earnest. "You’re doing fine. Plus, if you start floating around like a lovestruck bat, I’ll be here to pull you back down."

Rhysand laughs softly before shaking his head at the general. "He’s right, though. Take it step by step, Azriel. Let her come to terms with her own feelings. When she’s ready it’ll be right for both of you."

Feeling somewhat lighter Azriel nods appreciatively at his brothers. "Step by step," he repeats, firming his resolve. With a final nod he steps back into the night bolstered by the mix of Cassian’s humor and Rhysand’s leadership. He was ready to face the future with a heart full of hope and a mind cautious of the delicate balance he needs to maintain.

Back in the townhouse Feyre greets you with that mischievous grin that heralds some sisterly teasing. She sets her paintbrush down before wiping her hands on a cloth as her eyes sparkle with playful curiosity. "So, what did you do to him?" she teases with a smirk on her face.

You frown genuinely puzzled by her question. "What? Nothing, I... we were just training, then he said he had to go." Your voice trails off mirroring your confusion over Azriel's sudden change in demeanor.

Feyre chuckles, shaking her head as she picks up her brush again. "That man is always so mysterious. But don't worry it's probably just Azriel things. Or maybe, just maybe, you're the perfect distraction for our dear spymaster."

"What are you on about?" you ask while feeling a mix of amusement and bewilderment at her jest.

"Oh, please!" Feyre laughs, her brush dancing over the canvas. "He looks at you like every moment you spend together is something precious. Like you're a rare painting he can't quite believe he's stumbled upon."

"You're imagining things," you dismiss her. Shaking your head with a smile. "Azriel is just being kind. He's like that with everyone."

Feyre gives you a knowing look. Her smirk broadening. "Sure, he’s kind to everyone, but with you it’s different. He doesn’t look at anyone else quite like he looks at you. Like you’ve cast a spell on him and he’s trying to figure out how to live with the enchantment."

Her words make you pause. The playful insinuation tugging at the edges of your thoughts. Despite your dismissal Feyre’s observation lingers. A teasing possibility that maybe there's a hint of truth in her playful assertions. The room fills with your laughter, a sound that masks the flutter of curiosity her words have sparked.

Unbeknownst to you while you puzzle over Azriel's sudden departure, Feyre's mind is swiftly connecting with Rhysand's. A silent inquiry flits through their bond: Something's up with Azriel, he seemed... off. Did I miss something?

Rhysand's mental response comes with a chuckle that Feyre can almost hear: He’s fine, love. Just had a bit of a revelation. He’ll share when he's ready.

A spark of mischief lights up Feyre’s eyes as understanding dawns on her. Her lips curve into a sly, knowing grin. But she carefully masks any hint of her newfound knowledge from you. "You know, I think we deserve some fun today. Just us twins. You’ve been pushing hard with all that training and brooding," she suggests. Her voice bubbling with an excitement that piques your curiosity.

"Really? What did you have in mind?" you ask. Your earlier confusion over Azriel's behavior giving way to intrigue at Feyre's sudden enthusiasm.

"Oh, just a day for us to unwind and maybe get into a little mischief," Feyre replies, winking. "We can leave the mysteries of shadowy spymasters behind and focus on spoiling ourselves."

You laugh while nodding in agreement, relieved to set aside the morning's puzzles. "That sounds perfect, actually."

As the day unfolds with Feyre leading the way with her occasional secretive smiles and the warmth of her company envelop you, making you feel cherished and a part of something larger than just sisterly bonding. Every now and then she throws you a look filled with unspoken laughter as if she's in on a joke that’s yet to be told adding an intriguing layer to your day out.

"Enjoy today," Feyre says at one point. Her grin infectious. "Because who knows? Tomorrow you might find yourself swept off your feet in ways you never expected." Her words are light, but they dance with implication, leaving you wondering about the possibilities that tomorrow might bring.

As the days unfold since your training session you begin to notice an unusual shift in Azriel's behavior when he's around you. Always the quiet, stoic presence, he now seems to carry an air of nervousness that is both surprising and endearing. It's as if he's forgotten how to be around you. His typically smooth demeanor replaced with an awkwardness that sends a ripple of amusement throughout your days.

During your daily routines, whether you're practicing combat skills or just strolling through the lush gardens of the Night Court, Azriel is consistently by your side. Yet, his typical quiet confidence seems to falter. Today when he hands you a training sword his fingers not only linger but also tremble slightly against yours. The contact is brief but the moment his skin brushes against yours a visible blush creeps up his neck coloring his cheeks in a rare show of discomposure.

"Sorry," he stutters. Quickly retracting his hand as if scorched by the brief contact. He averts his gaze making sure to look anywhere but at you. His discomfort palpable in the tight set of his shoulders.

You can't help but tilt your head eyeing him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Azriel, are you alright?" you ask with a hint of a smile on your lips. Your voice is soft though hoping to ease some of his evident tension. The gardens around you bloom vibrantly. A stark contrast to Azriel’s suddenly flustered state.

He clears his throat attempting to regain some of his usual composure. "Yes, I'm... fine," he manages. His voice a notch higher than usual. He meets your gaze again holding it for a moment longer than he intends. The intensity of his stare both confusing and thrilling.

Just then as if to spite Azriel, Cassian strolls by and upon noticing Azriel's flushed face and your puzzled expression he can't help but let out a snicker. "Lost your cool, Shadowsinger?" he teases, winking at you before continuing on his way with a chuckle. "You’re usually smoother than this, brother!"

Azriel shoots Cassian a brief glare but there's a resigned humor in his eyes that suggests he knows just how out of character he must seem. As Cassian’s laughter fades into the distance Azriel finally turns back to you attempting a sheepish smile.

"It seems I'm a bit out of sorts today," he admits. His voice finally steadying. "Nothing to worry about, really."

Watching Azriel grapple with this uncharacteristic awkwardness only endears him more to you. There’s a sweetness in his struggle. A reminder that beneath the composed façade of the Night Court’s spymaster lies a depth of emotion rarely seen but profoundly felt.

On a tranquil afternoon in the Night Court, you find yourself relaxing in one of the quieter gardens alongside Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. The air is filled with gentle laughter and the soft rustling of leaves. Cassian and Nesta are notably absent, presumably because Cassian has taken it upon himself to "help" Nesta with some errands—a pursuit that everyone knows often ends in playful bickering and affectionate banter.

Elain has also opted for a day out with Lucien exploring new botanical gardens on the outskirts of the city. Her passion for plants and Lucien's support in her endeavors showcases the growing bond between them.

The conversation flows easily until Rhys, with a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, steers it towards Azriel’s recent scouting mission. "Azriel here stumbled upon something quite intriguing recently, didn’t you?" he teases while watching Azriel closely.

Caught off-guard Azriel’s response is delayed, his eyes widening slightly as if Rhys had tread into forbidden territory. "It was nothing out of the ordinary," he finally mutters. Though his voice holds a trace of unease.

Feyre jumps into the fray. Her tone laced with playful curiosity. "Oh, but I heard it was quite the discovery. Rare and fascinating… something that might deeply engage a man’s interest."

You laugh completely oblivious to the underlying meaning and look at Azriel with raised eyebrows. "What was it, Az? Some kind of hidden gem or a lost artifact?"

There’s a brief moment where Azriel’s composure falters under your direct gaze, his eyes meeting yours before quickly glancing away. He recovers quickly, however, a slight flush on his cheeks. "Yes, something like that," he agrees, his voice steadying. "A discovery that could indeed change one’s perspective for a lifetime."

Rhys doesn't miss a beat adding with a light chuckle, "Let’s hope it’s not kept secret too long. Such treasures are better when shared, right?"

Feyre nods enthusiastically. Her eyes dancing with amusement. "Especially when they bring people closer together, right, Az?"

Azriel meets Feyre’s gaze. His expression settling into a subtle smile that hints at his deep thoughts. “Indeed,” he replies quietly, the single word rich with unspoken meaning, affirming the sentiment with his usual succinct eloquence.

As the conversation moves on the jokes and laughter continue, your heart warmed by the newfound perspective you found with them. Azriel watches you with a gentle, albeit slightly wistful smile. He noticed how much more you're around, how your laughter fills the air more often, and how your vibrant personality begins to shine through once more. His heart fills with a mixture of relief and deep affection, seeing the signs of your healing. In these moments he cherishes the progress you've made feeling hopeful about the future. He was ready to support you every step of the way as the true nature of his discovery waits to be shared with you.

As the weeks blend into months, the connection between you and Azriel deepens. It was nurtured by shared moments and his unwavering support. On a crisp evening as the sun begins its descent painting the sky with strokes of pink and gold, Azriel brings you to a secluded hilltop that overlooks Velaris. This spot was known only to him and offers a panoramic view of the city as it starts to twinkle with the first lights of evening, the natural grassy surface underfoot soft and inviting.

Standing close by his presence was both comforting and solid, Azriel shares a story, his voice low and warm, recounting a humorous mishap from his early days as a spymaster. The tale is endearing, revealing a less guarded side of him and laughter bubbles up freely from your throat.

As your laughter transitions into a soft chuckle, you turn to face him. The last rays of the sunset bathe Azriel in a warm, golden light that illuminates his features, casting a glow that outlines him like an ethereal halo. His eyes that were filled with affection and a hint of amusement, meet yours. In that instant something profound shifts within you.

It feels as if a key has turned, unlocking something wondrous and overwhelming. The mating bond, which has been delicately weaving its way through each of your interactions, now clicks into place with perfect clarity. The sensation is electrifying yet profoundly comforting. Resonating through your very being.

Your breath catches and your heart races—not just from the shock of the realization but from the undeniable rightness that surges through you. Azriel, noticing the subtle transformation in your expression halts his story. A flicker of concern crossing his face.

"Are you okay?" he asks with his voice tinged with worry. The humor from his story now replaced by attentive care.

A mix of joy and amazement washes over you as you feel a comforting swirl of his shadows around your feet. Like curious creatures affirming this new connection. "Azriel, I think... I think the mating bond just…," you trailed off unsure how to continue. Your voice was filled with awe. The realization brings a new depth to your smile as you meet his gaze which is now shimmering with a mixture of relief and happiness.

"That's what I've been feeling," Azriel breathes out, a tender smile spreading across his face as he steps closer. He reaches out gently brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "I've been waiting, hoping you would feel it too when the time was right."

Taking his hand, you feel a warmth that goes beyond physical touch. A connection that seeps into the depths of your soul. "I’m glad it’s you," you say quietly, sincerely, the words flowing easily.

Azriel’s other hand comes up to gently cup your cheek. His touch feather light. "And I’m honored it’s you," he responds. His gaze locked with yours. The world around you—the city lights, the soft whisper of the evening breeze—fades into a gentle backdrop to the profound connection you share.

In this moment with Azriel’s shadows dancing around, playful, and protective, you feel a sense of completeness. A promise of endless possibilities. Together, bonded not just by fate but by a mutual understanding you know that whatever the future holds you'll get to navigate it side by side.

As the realization of the mating bond settles between you, Azriel's shadows seem to take on a life of their own. They swirled around you both with a newfound enthusiasm. The delicate tendrils of darkness weave around your legs and occasionally brush against your hands as if testing and reinforcing the connection that has just been acknowledged.

Azriel watches with a tender amusement as his shadows interact with you, their movements more animated than usual. "They seem to have taken quite a liking to you," he comments. His voice warm with affection and a hint of pride. "They're not usually this... attentive."

As the shadows continue their gentle dance around you, one particularly daring tendril snakes up your arm, its touch lighter than a feather. You can't help but laugh. The sound echoing softly in the quiet of the evening. With a delighted grin you reach out to trace the path of the shadow with your fingertips, marveling at the cool, tingling sensation it leaves on your skin.

Azriel continues watching with an affectionate roll of his eyes accompanying his half-smirk. "You're going to spoil them," he teases. His tone light but full of warmth.

Encouraged by your positive reaction another shadow playfully darts forward and mimics the motion of a gentle kiss on your cheek. You giggle with joy, your hand touching the spot in mock surprise and then you're both laughing. A shared moment of joy and wonder at the peculiar yet endearing behavior of the shadows.

Azriel shakes his head, but his eyes shine with amusement. "Now you've done it. They're going to expect this king of attention all the time," he jokes as the shadows around him swirled in what you swear could be shadowy laughter.

"You know, I think I'm okay with that," you respond still smiling as you watch the shadows retreat slightly, as if bashful from the attention. "They're quite charming. Just like someone else I know." You glance up at Azriel with a playful smirk. Enjoying the light flush that colors his cheeks at the compliment.

The shadows, seemingly pleased with their role in this light-hearted exchange, settle more calmly around you both like a contented sigh after a bout of laughter. The protective circle they form feels like a gentle embrace not just from Azriel but from all parts of him.

As the laughter fades Azriel's expression turns tender, his gaze softening as he searches your face looking for any sign of unease. "But seriously," he says with his voice low and earnest, "are you really okay?" His concern is palpable. The bond between you making every emotion, every nuance of feeling that much more intense and meaningful.

You meet his gaze feeling a surge of warmth from his sincere concern. Smiling gently, you nod, the tranquility of the moment filling you with a profound sense of peace. "I really am okay. For the first time in a long time," you admit. Your voice steady and sure. The confession feels like a significant acknowledgment of the journey you've been on and the role Azriel, and his shadows, have played in it.

Azriel's smile in response is radiant. A look of relief and happiness that brightens his entire demeanor. "That's all I’ve ever wanted to hear," he murmurs. His voice soft with emotion. He stands closer, his hand gently squeezing yours. "Come on, love," he whispers with a twinkle in his eyes. "Let's fly home."

With a graceful motion Azriel unfurls his expansive wings, the dark feathers shimmering under the starlight. The sight never fails to take your breath away. He wraps an arm securely around your waist, his touch reassuring. "Ready?" he asks. His voice a low rumble filled with excitement and anticipation.

With a nod you cling to him, feeling the rush of air as he leaps into the sky. Velaris unfolds below you. It was a gorgeous tapestry of lights and shadows. The wind was cool and exhilarating against your face. Flying with Azriel, held close against his chest, the city sprawling beneath you is an experience that feels as if it straddles the line between dream and reality.

The flight is swift and smooth. The quiet only broken by the rushing wind and the steady beat of Azriel's powerful wings. The world seems to shrink away, leaving only the two of you soaring through the night sky. As the House of Wind comes into view Azriel’s descent is gentle, a reminder of his skill and care for you.

You land softly on the balcony, the cool night breeze playing around you, still wrapped in the warmth of his embrace. Just as you touch down the laughter and lively banter of the Inner Circle reach your ears from inside.

As you and Azriel step through the grand doors of the House of Wind the lively atmosphere of the Inner Circle greets you. Cassian's booming voice fills the foyer as he spots you descending from the balcony. "Finally decided to join us, huh? Or were you two plotting to take over Velaris with your love-struck scheming?" he teases, winking not so conspicuously.

Rhysand joins in with a sly grin. His eyes twinkling with mischief. "I think they were busy weaving shadows and starlight. Look how they landed, like a pair of night-blooming flowers." His voice was laden with humor and draws a round of chuckles from around the room.

Feyre, Nesta, and Elain watch from the side, their expressions varying degrees of amusement and affection. Feyre's eyes meet yours and she gives you an approving nod. Her smile suggesting she understands more than she lets on. Nesta’s smirk is more enigmatic but supportive while Elain’s gentle gaze is filled with romantic delight at the scene unfolding before her.

Amid the teasing Azriel keeps you close, his arm remaining protectively around your waist. The warmth of his embrace reassures you. His presence a calming force against the good-natured ribbing. "Ignore them," he murmurs softly against your ear, just loud enough for you to hear over the laughter. His voice is rich with affection and a hint of playfulness that only you are privy to.

"You make it sound so easy," you whisper back, unable to suppress a smile feeling buoyed by the love filling the room.

As the evening progresses the light banter continues, with everyone occasionally casting teasing glances your way, making playful comments about the inseparable duo you and Azriel have become. Despite the jests there’s an underlying current of genuine happiness for you both. A celebration of the deepening bond that everyone seems to recognize and respect.

The night unfolds with shared stories, laughter, and an occasional clinking of glasses in toasts, not just to the night but to new beginnings and magical connections. As you stand by Azriel’s side, surrounded by friends who are more like family. You feel a profound sense of belonging and happiness. Here in the heart of the Night Court, under the watchful eyes of the stars and the soft glow of the city, you are home—not just in place, but in heart, bound by love, laughter, and the eternal dance of shadows and light.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

[scarletssienna]

Say, “Don’t go”

Summary - It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other last - Three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 6k word count

Warnings - Hurt-Comfort, angst, mommy wanda, sub!reader, grinding, car sex, fingering, hair-pulling, oral, biting, fighting, scars, AU

AN - Hey guys! Sorry, it’s been a second since I’ve posted. I cannot write anything happy apparently? It’s all just been angst. I have many ideas for some future one-shots and possible series tho! (Not all angst dw)

18+, minors + men dni

Working for the FBI was no easy feat. It often led to undercover work in many different forms. Typically you’d expect to be undercover a couple hours at most. So it was unexpected when you got a case requiring a longer period of undercover work. 3 months at most and you’d be out. This case was different from the rest. You’d been tracking a mob boss for years, every time you’d think you’d get close he’d disappear. Every time he’d come back worse than before. The goal was to gain some trust in the community and work your way up, that way you could finally track him down with confirmation. It wasn’t ideal. It was highly dangerous but you’d been training for this your entire career. When you broke the news to Wanda she was less than displeased. Since the two of you had gotten together in college you’d been nearly inseparable. Your names always followed one another’s and you were practically glued to the hip. 

Sure, you’d trained for undercover work like this, but the risk was great. There was a good chance of having to participate in illegal activities or getting hurt. Because of that, Wanda was very unhappy with you and the decision to go. The idea of being apart from you for a week, nonetheless 3 months sounded awful. You couldn’t exactly turn down this offer though. You’d waited to catch this guy for years and now it was finally within your grasp. You were too far in. The day of you leaving came quicker than anyone could have prepared for and it left you with a sinking feeling in your gut and Wanda distraught.

“I have to go, Wands.” You pleaded, trying anything you could to get her to understand. She looked away from you, wiping the tears from her face.

“No, you don’t. You could stay. We can figure it out.” She sniffled and held back a whine. “Together.” She sounded like a child begging for a toy in a store, although this was much more real. You stepped back towards her again. She stepped away but instead backed herself against a wall. 

“Wands, look at me.” You begged softly as your hands reached up, cupping her face in your hands. When she looked into your eyes, you nearly broke right then and there. The pure sadness she held was unbearable. Her green eyes were glossy - her mascara ran just below her bottom lashes. The sinking pit in your stomach grew as you opened your mouth to speak. No words came out, causing her to scowl slightly. Instead, you leaned in, kissing her as passionately as you could. She kissed back, her hands grabbing at your face, pulling you in as close as she could. When the tears began again, you had to pull back, your head falling on her shoulder. It did a poor job of muffling the sobs that left your mouth. 

“Please.” She begged. “Stay.” Her hands wrapped around you tightly, holding you against her, afraid to let go. Her fingers tangled in your shirt, creasing the fabric in her grip.

“I love you so much.” You said as you pulled back a tiny bit, just enough for your eyes to meet again. It was what confirmed it for Wanda. You were leaving. There was no more pleading and begging she could do. You had made up your mind. Her hands detached from your shirt, and she shook her head. Her arms went to her sides as her head rested behind her on the wall. “I love you, Wanda.” You repeated the words the two of you had shared hundreds of times. But this time was different: she didn’t repeat the words back. Her eyes just stared back at you, glossy, broken. Your hand dropped to your stomach, holding it slightly as the sickening feeling took over. It hit you that she wouldn’t be saying it back this time. You pushed past the billowing feeling that took over your stomach and chest. You leaned forward to kiss her one last time, but she didn’t kiss back. So, you moved and kissed her cheek tenderly before stepping away. She held her breath as a single tear rolled down her face. She held eye contact with you until you walked away, finally breaking it. You felt her gaze on you; only when you rounded the corner did it cease. She sank to her knees, her hands covering her face as she muffled her sobs. You carried on, leaving the house despite everything inside you urging you to stay. 

After three weeks of you being gone a news story broke out of an FBI agent found dead while undercover. The story that was released was gruesome. Wanda fell distraught. She was distraught you had left in the first place, but at least she had known you would be coming home. Now, with this no longer being true she was sent into more of a fragile state than ever. You had no idea that was going to happen. You had accounted for a few months of being away - at most. So it was a surprise to you too when you got a call one early morning saying there was a change of plans in your mission. It had to seem real. And to everyone else, it was real. Wanda’s grief of the love of her life was real. The woman hardly slept, yet she barely left bed. Bathing was a chore and food was an even worse one. Nightmares were common. These grew exponentially after everyone's and her own better judgment, she read your case file. She saw your name, the bloody image of ‘your’ body, the details and descriptors of how you had died, all of it, stamped a closed case. You were now deceased.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

It’s been three years since you and Wanda saw each other - three long years. You were as good as dead to her. Figuratively, and unfortunately, literally. 

An old file was placed on Wanda’s desk one morning as she worked. 

“What’s this?” Wanda asked as confusion wrinkled across her face. She looked up, pushing her glasses to the top of her head, making eye contact with Natasha. 

“Something I thought you might be interested in.” Natasha started as she reached down and opened the file. Wanda recognized the case immediately, her bottom lip quickly tugged into her mouth as she bit down. Natasha’s fingers slid across the pages in search of a word. She paused, her fingertips halting just beneath it - Deceased. She pointed out the word, causing Wanda to flip her glasses back down, looking at the papers, curious. She just nodded and shrugged, not recognizing where it was from. 

“Okay? What about it?” Wanda pushed, trying not to get upset at the lack of details about what she was supposed to be looking at. Natasha reached over, setting another file on top opening it, flipping through, and then pointing out several points throughout the pages. 

“They’re not dead,” Natasha said while shaking her head. She sighed and knocked on the desk once as a sign she was leaving before walking out of the room. Wanda watched her exit before looking back into the folders in front of her, her face still riddled with confusion. Her jaw dropped slack as she realized Natasha was right. You're not dead.

Wanda looked through the second file on her desk quizzically. You had been dead. What she read proved otherwise. She let out a silent gasp as she read further. 

There was a file opened about a woman who was close to the man you had gone after. It was you. Though the people above in the FBI knew that. They just had to keep it under wraps for your safety. The case had been made available recently as the mob boss was dead. The woman in the file had shot him and escaped. The more Wanda read about the woman, the more she realized it was you. Techniques you had used in the past for interrogation, fighting techniques, and just genuine physical mannerisms. The woman had shown up just a month after you had been declared deceased. The thing that finally confirmed it to be you for Wanda stopped her in her tracks. There were blurry security images from the shooting. You had always managed to stay away from cameras and any photos taken staying in hiding made your undercover position easier. Wanda would always recognize you. You had to be confident you could return when this was revealed. 

She immediately reached for her phone, dialing your number and letting it ring twice before she realized. The number had been down for years and you wouldn’t just pick up like that. She set her phone down and pushed her chair back. While gnawing on her bottom lip she was in a shocked state of not knowing what to do. She left the office quickly, going home. The second she pulled into the driveway she broke down into tears. All the feelings from years ago came back. It felt unreal, untrue. She couldn’t believe it, and not in the way of denial. But protecting herself. She couldn’t go through the grief again. She dragged herself inside and simply dropped her stuff by the door. She had moved on from you. It was hard, but she had done it. 

All this brought up those emotions, she wasn’t sure how to cope. She brought herself to the bedroom and stripped off her clothes, dropping them sporadically around the room before going to the shower. She paused in front of the mirror, trying to contain her tears. She dried her face with the hand towel and sniffled before turning on the water to the shower. She stood outside the shower, waiting for it to heat up. As she stood the tears began again. When the water was to her liking she entered and stood under the water, trying to wash away all the feelings. They didn’t wash away as she had hoped. Slowly, she sunk to the ground, holding her legs just as she had done when you left. The feeling of sadness and heartbreak was all too familiar. 

The next week things were off. No one had brought you up. Not that they usually did. But Wanda had hoped someone would. Maybe if someone brought it up it would give her an excuse to share what she had found - Without fear of sounding crazy. The first year after you’d left, Wanda was in such a deep state of grief. She’d often bring up new cases, victims, or missing people, saying it may be you. She had seen the evidence of your death, but after the closed casket funeral and no true closure in the situation, it drove her wild. She settled for focusing on her work this week, pushing people away. She had to believe you were alive. The counter thought was too much. 

When you returned to Quantico you wanted nothing more than to see Wanda. Unfortunately, there was paperwork on paperwork that needed to be approved before doing so. On top of that, you also had to go through a medical check and many physical exams. While the FBI had known what you were doing, they couldn’t just pull you away for the maintenance of your health. It was debatably the longest week of your life. You spend much of it waiting in the temporary apartment they had set up for you. It was boring, mundane, and painfully long as all you could think about was seeing Wanda. When you got the go-ahead Friday night you were frantic. At a loss of what to wear, who to call, and where to even find Wanda you were lost. Decidedly, you called the only number you could seem to remember at the time, Natashas. She answered on the third ring your call from a club. She hasn't answered nearly as fast as you would have liked but supposed it was fine, this time. 

“Where is Wanda?” You wasted no time on formalities, impatiently waiting for a response. You paced back and forth between the kitchen and living room as you gnawed your bottom lip into your mouth. Natasha didn't know who was calling but answered anyway. She listened as she stepped outside. 

“Who is this? You must know that this is terrible timing. Whatever this is better be important.” She insisted as she leaned against the cold brick wall, not waiting long before you replied again. 

“Natasha.” You answered simply. “Where is Wanda?” You repeated your question with a firm tone. Suddenly, it hit Natasha on who you were. A gasp left her mouth as she stood up straight.

“No way!” She practically yelled. Of course, she knew you were alive. She had known the whole time. But it had been a long time since the two of you had spoken real words. Now here you were, asking for Wanda. Before you could yell again into the phone, she remembered your question. “She’s probably still at work. She’s been working like crazy this last week.” You didn’t even bother saying anything more before hanging up the phone. 

You pulled up the maps app on your phone and typed in Quantico. When you saw it was just a little over a mile you decided to run. You were not about to just wait around for an Uber that was for sure. Was running the best decision as it was 10:30 pm and you were last in the area several years ago? Maybe not. But you were in a wired state and would do it anyway. When you arrived you hurried to the elevator. You grumbled as you went to hit the button and realized you needed your key card. Shuffling through your pockets in a frantic state you grabbed it and swiped it, pressing the floor you needed to go. Thoughts began to flood your mind as you imagined Wanda's reaction. What if she was mad at you? What if she never wanted to see you again? You didn't have much time to worry though as the elevator dinged and opened. As the doors opened they slowly revealed the red hair you've been dying to see. An exhausted Wanda was standing outside the elevator waiting to enter. You took a second to register her in front of you, still as a statue. She hardly even looked your way, not recognizing you through the exhaustion. She shuffled into the elevator and rested her head against the wall, reaching to push the first-floor button when you cut her off. 

“Wanda,” you said, causing her head to snap towards you. Her face was riddled with confusion before her jaw dropped as she realized who was standing before her. Without a second thought, she flung herself into your arms. You held her tightly against you as your arms wrapped around her closely. “God, Wanda.” You murmured under your breath as you pressed your face into her hair, inhaling slightly. You could have melted at her touch, her scent, her everything. It was exhilarating. Her face nuzzled into your neck as if it was a perfect puzzle piece. Her soft sobs of joy are swallowed and silenced by your closeness. The doors to the elevator closed but the machine stayed in place as it hadn't been directed anywhere.

“Is it you?” She asked after several moments, pulling her face back. When her green, teary eyes met yours you smiled bigger than you had in forever. 

“It's me, Wands,” you said as you looked up into her eyes, causing her to grin. You reached both hands up, cupping her face as you wiped away her tears with your thumbs. Softly, you pressed a kiss to her nose. Her nose wrinkled at the kiss and she giggled before leaning forward and kissing you, passionately. The kiss only lasted a few moments before she was tangled around you again closely. 

“How? What?” Suddenly she began to stutter out. “Where?” The number of questions she had was too many and they were too much right now. While biting down on your bottom lip you shook your head. “Soon, so very soon.” You whispered as you placed a kiss on her temple. “I’ll tell you all about it soon.” When she began to protest your answer you kissed her softly, causing her to sigh and give in, just happy you were here. 

“Where have you been staying?” She asked before looking at the elevator as it began to move down. Slowly, she detached herself from you causing you to release her from your arms. Instead, she settled on holding your arm tightly, afraid to let go. 

“They set me up with a temporary apartment not too far from here.” You spoke in a quiet voice as the elevator doors opened. The two of you exited, carefully walking past the person entering. 

“Let me take you home.” Wanda offered. She wanted to see you for as long as she physically could but knew it was late and unrealistic to expect you to stay out doing who knows what at the spur of the moment. She looked at you as she stepped closer once again, not having let go of your arm. Suddenly, she began to stutter. “By home, I mean your apartment, not my, our, home I mean. Unless you want to go there? I mean I wouldn't mind at all! But also I would understand if you wanted to go back to,” You cut her rambling off with a soft kiss. 

“I would love to go back to our home,” You started, causing her eyes to light up. “But not tonight.” You finished and the glimmer in her eyes faded as she quickly looked away. Feeling the sudden need to clarify, you spoke quickly. “There's still some things that need to be settled and I've been running around too much, I don’t want to disturb you.”

She agreed and you went towards her car, both of you getting in when Wanda finally pried her body away from yours. It was quickly returned when you both had gotten in, her hand reaching for your leg as she drove. Your hand rested on hers. Despite having tons to talk about you drove in silence: quiet directions were the only words shared as the radio played softly in the background as you watched out the window. She drove slowly down the road, a few under the speed limit as she wanted to soak up every moment she could with you. Her hand slowly rose your thigh as she drove, her fingertips playing softly with the inner hem of your pants. There was a sudden moment of desperation that came among the two of you. Wanda pulled into the nearest empty parking lot and parked the car. The second the car was put into park the two of you practically launched yourselves at each other, kissing one another passionately. Your hands reached for her waist as hers tangled in your hair. 

Her tongue slipped across your bottom lip, eagerly seeking entrance. You obliged without a second thought, a moan immediately muffed into the kiss. Your hand snaked under her shirt, groping and grabbing at her chest through her bra. She groaned into your mouth, tugging your hair as she pulled you closer. 

“Fuck.” You mumbled as you pulled back from the kiss, locking eyes with her. You hummed and tugged at her shirt. “Get over here.” You murmured as you reached down to unbuckle your seatbelt. You moved the seat back and laid it down before turning your back to the windshield and shifting towards the front of the car. There was some awkward shifting and moving as Wanda moved into the passenger's seat, settling and leaning back in the seat. She reached forward and grabbed your shirt, pulling you on top of her. 

Your lips met instantly again and your hips found a slow pace of grinding onto her lap. Her hands reached down to your thighs, gripping them tightly as she slid her fingertips inward, dipping towards the insides of your thighs. With a groan, you broke the kiss and began kissing at her neck. Your hip movements came to a cease as you moved off her lap, now between her legs. You grumbled as the floor wasn’t as forgiving as you’d expected the fabric-covered metal to be. That wasn’t about to stop you though as you reached towards her pants. She helped with the buttons and zipper, before lifting her hips, allowing you to tug down her pants and panties with one quick motion. You moaned at the sight in front of you. Her delectable cunt waiting in front of you. She reached down, tangling a hand in your hair as she began to push your head to where she needed it most. You would never deprive her of what she wanted. Especially when your mouth practically watered for her. 

“Come on Detka. Don’t be shy, Mommy remembers how much you love eating her pussy.” She spoke sweetly, a smile on her face as she looked down at you. Your face turned to a deep blush as she spoke. In an attempt to avoid embarrassment, you settled your head between her thighs happily. Your tongue made contact with her slowly. Your tongue moved up her clit in a fashion that made her squirm. Her grip on your hair tightened as her hips rose against your face. You moaned against her as your hands gripped her thighs. The way your tongue swirled and ground against her caused her to moan out above you. “Fuck Detka.” She pulled at your hair and she let out a loud moan. “Oh, I’ve missed your tongue.” She said as her eyes screwed shut and threw her head back. You looked up from your position, smiling at the sight above you. One of your hands slid between her legs and quickly slipped inside of her. Your tongue directed all of your attention to her clit as your fingers curled and pumped inside of her. With the addition of your fingers, she rose quickly to an orgasm. Her hands tugged at your hair as her hips lifted and she let out a loud moan as she reached her peak. When she settled you took a moment to remove your fingers and lap up what you could before looking up at her with a cheeky grin.

“Fuck you’re hot.” You said as you grinned, biting the inside of your cheek before pulling your fingers to your mouth, and licking them clean. She watched you, awestruck and tired as she caught her breath. Her grip loosened in your hair and her hands reached down to your face with a new tenderness. She lifted your chin to look at you with a smile. You smiled back up at her before biting your bottom lip. You wiped your face with your shirt in a playful manner before shifting a little. She giggled tiredly and pressed her fingertip to the tip of your nose with a smile. You dried your fingers on your pants before pulling Wanda's pants and panties up carefully. She slowly shifted her body, tiredly allowing you to help her. When her pants were back in place you crawled onto her lap, straddling her. You began to pepper soft kisses across her jaw and neck. 

“I love you, Wands.” You whispered as you settled back in her lap, your head resting below her chin as her arms wrapped around you keeping you close.

“I love you too, Detka.” She said with a tired smile on her face. The slow patterns Wanda traced on your back felt hypnotizing as you never wanted to leave this moment. You had to though, so after a little while of sitting together you lifted your head. She protested with a grumble and tangled her hand in your hair, urging you to lay your head back down. Her eyes didn't open from her relaxed state. 

“Wanda let me drive us home.” You said as you placed a kiss on her lips. She nodded and slowly let go of you. You reached down and adjusted the seat so it was in a safer upright position before scooting back on her lap a little and buckling her seatbelt for her. You then smiled as her tired eyes looked into yours. “Keep looking at me like that I’m gonna have to eat you out again.” you teased, causing her to grin and giggle. You climbed into the driver's seat and set the car to defog, letting it rest momentarily as you traced patterns on Wanda's leg. When the car was defogged enough you drove the two of you home. 

Pulling into the driveway you parked the car in the garage before getting out. You hurried to Wanda's side before she could even open the door. You opened the door for her before reaching down and unclicking her seatbelt.

“Can I carry you?” you asked, causing her to grin a little out of surprise. She raised her eyebrows at you as she began to question. 

“Is that a question of your physical capabilities or are you asking for permission?” She teased as she looked up at you tiredly. “Because you have my permission, but Detka I might be too heavy,” she started but you cut her off, carefully lifting her out of the seat, watching to make sure she didn’t bump her head. She gasped surprised as she quickly hid her face in your neck, flustered. You carried her inside before setting her on the steps. Gently, you began taking off her shoes and jacket for her, hanging them up on the hook before returning and picking her up bridal style. She laughed when you picked her up again but let it happen as she wrapped her arms around your neck tightly and kissed your jaw. You brought her to the bedroom and laid her down. She made quick work of snuggling up with the pillows in the bed. 

“Don’t get too comfy Wands.” You teased as you went to the closet to find some pajamas. You bit your lip, pausing as you noticed your side of the closet had stayed nearly the same as when you had left. Slowly, you began looking through your shirts. Your fingers danced slowly over the fabric, brushing your fingertips along the patterns of one of your favorite shirts. You carefully slipped the shirt off the hanger. You glanced at the closet door, knowing Wanda’s eyes were on you before stripping your shirt off. As you reached to unclip your bra you heard her call out. 

“Come here.” Wanda’s voice was husky and full of sleep. You abided anyway and picked your shirt and a shirt for her before walking towards her. You set the shirts on her bed, blushing a light shade of pink as you stood next to her. She propped herself up a little more and reached towards you, spinning you to face away from her. Her hands slid up your back slowly before stopping at your bra. She took only a moment, unclipping your bra. You felt your breath hitch in your throat as she unclipped your bra. Her hands then slid down your back, her fingertips tracing across some scars she had never seen before. You flinched at the touch at first before relaxing into it. While biting your bottom lip you let the bra fall to the ground before turning back around to face her. She smiled at your body, only looking at you with love and adoration as she took in the sight. Her eyes on you made you blush a deeper red. When she noticed you getting more flustered she directed her attention lower. Her hands slid from your sides to the loops of your pants. Moving you closer with a soft tug she undid the button before looking into your eyes as she did the zipper. You shuffled out of the pants before reaching for her. Carefully you repeated her motions. Your fingers danced around the button to her pants as you undid them, carefully helping her slide out of them. While she took off her shirt you took a moment to fold the clothes you two had discarded. You smiled as you looked back towards her again, reaching your arms around her. Your hands slid behind her back and unclasped her bra. She let the garment fall slowly as it was now your turn to admire the sight in front of you. You sat on the edge of the bed next to her, letting a small smile show as you handed her one of your t-shirts. You pulled yours on as she put hers on. As sexual as the actions may have seemed to an outside perspective they were purely done out of innocence and genuine care. 

“Can I sleep next to you?” You spoke for the first time in several minutes. A downward smile tugged on Wanda’s lips as she grabbed at your shirt. 

“Please do.” She said as she nodded, tapping the side next to her, your side of the bed. You smiled at her response and bit your lip as you pulled the covers back. You crawled over top of her, causing her to giggle as you plopped down next to her. You took a moment to dramatically fluff up your pillow before lying down. She waited, teasingly impatient. The second your head hit the pillow Wanda’s head was right there next to you hardly inches away. Her arms wrapped around you closely and one leg pushed between yours, essentially tangling your bodies together. The closeness felt wonderful. You brushed your nose against hers with a smile on your face. She smiled and closed her eyes, feeling content and at peace for the first time in a long time. Gently you pressed a kiss to her lips. You didn’t close your eyes just yet. You watched her instead. Watching how her eyes fluttered tiredly, her breath slowly making her chest rise and fall, her breathing getting slow as she drifted asleep. When you were sure she was asleep you finally gave in to the tiredness yourself, letting your eyes close and sleep take over you. 

The next morning when you woke up Wanda was stretched out next to you but still clinging onto your shirt with one of her hands. You smiled at the sight, biting back a big grin as you watched her. Before, you were rarely awake before Wanda. She liked to get up early to get a head start on her day. Now, that had been you for the past few years. You scooted towards her, wrapping your body around her as you began to kiss her cheek and neck playfully. She stirred in her sleep and luckily remembered about the night prior before freaking out. She rolled on top of you and grinned, her eyes not yet open as she snuggled into your chest. 

“Shh, I’m sleeping.” She whispered as she wrapped her body around you. You smiled and chuckled at her. You wrapped one arm around her back, sliding it under her shirt as you rubbed up and down the bare skin. Your other hand went to her hair, tangling it softly as you massaged her scalp. She hummed and leaned into your touch, slowly falling back into sleep. While kissing the top of her head you whispered. 

“I’ll lay here a little while then I have some stuff to do okay Wands?” You wanted to work out and return some phone calls for work to get it out of the way. She just nodded and hugged you closer. You let her stay in that position for longer than you’d planned before slowly moving her next to you again and climbing out of bed. You kissed her head before going downstairs. You paused at the end of the stairs, taking a deep breath as you knew you were about to take on walking through your old house. Just as you were about to walk through the house suddenly you couldn’t do it. You put on your shoes before going for a run outside. You ran all around smelling the fresh air. It was like no time had passed. You ran a quick run before returning home to get a weight lift in. Before, you seldom did cardio and weights on the same day. But you had a new routine that made you the most fit you’d ever been. The home gym was in a room connected to the garage. You went there and did a routine before heading up to the bedroom to shower. Wanda was sitting on the bed, pillows propped up behind her as she scrolled on her phone. 

“Wow,” Wanda muttered under her breath as she saw you walk into the room, your sweaty state extremely obvious. You laughed at her reaction and dried your face off the sweat with the small towel that had been draped across your shoulder. 

“Sorry, I know I’m gross. I’m about to take a shower. Maybe you want to join me?” You asked, thinking her reaction was for you being gross but you didn’t want to pass up the opportunity of showering with her. 

“No!” She said quickly, causing you to crinkle your nose at her. She realized what she said. “I mean yes! I want to shower with you! Not no! Not yet.” She said as she got out of bed and walked towards you. Your eyebrow turned upward as she walked towards you.

“Not yet?” You questioned as your hands reached out to her waist and then slid down to her hips, holding her softly.

“Not yet.” She whispered, repeating you with a small grin on her face. She leaned down and kissed your neck softly. Your hands squeezed at her hips as you pulled her body up against yours. She bit at your neck testingly causing you to yelp and flinch in surprise. She pulled her face back to look you in the eyes. “Too much?” She asked, her hands snaking across your body. Quickly, you shook your head.

“More.” You let out in only a whisper. Her grin returned and she stepped back, grabbing you by the shirt and dragging you to the bed.

[i23kazu]

SLEEPY PAPA CUDDLES

characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. domestic romantic fluff. an. MORE melusine daddy content. please send help guys i literally cannot stop making daddy neuvi content | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

on the days when some of the melusine get sick, neuvillette wishes he could stay home.

the heartbroken wails of his sick littlest ones pierce his heart – but as chief justice, he rarely gets to take the day off. even after scouring the pages of the fontainian law books, he finds nothing that allows him to take parental leave because his child is sick... because you're a stay at home parent.

(therefore, the responsibility falls onto you to take care of the little ones, as much as neuvillette would like to share it with you.)

early in the morning, you feel some sort of movement within your bed... you sleepily turn to look at neuvillette getting up and walking to your littlest's room.

"it's alright, ma trésor... papa's here." you can hear him attempting to soothe little puca.

puca's cries resound through the halls of the house, neuvillette's quiet shh-shhs soon following. it's not long til you hear the sobs that turn to whimpers, a sweet picture of puca laying her head on your husband's shoulder forming.

it doesn't get better when everyone is awake. iara, puca, and mela are all now down with the same cold puca cried her little lungs out for last night, and all three sweethearts sniffle at the dining table, hot soup freshly ladled out in front of them.

"papa, don't go! please?" iara cries, tugging on neuvillette's sleeve. justice has no time left to waste, and neither does your husband.

"i'm sorry, ma petit ange, but i have to go to work," neuvillette responds remorsefully, picking up iara and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"but i don't want you to go! stay home! i want to stay with you!" iara wails, burying her head in neuvillette's shoulder. he begins to bounce her gently on his hip.

"i'll see all of you tonight, ma chérie. alright? i'll come back early today."

at last, little iara's hands seem to finally let go of neuvillette's shirt, her sobs still wracking her frame.

"come here, sweet girl," you gently hug her from behind, gathering the little melusine in your arms. iara bursts into wails once she hugs you tightly, heart broken over feeling sick and having to say goodbye to papa.

you distract the children while neuvillette slips away to work, undetected. the rest of the day goes somewhat smoothly, with the older ones helping out around the house while the younger ones rest in bed.

by the time the clock says that papa was about to come home, all of the little melusines that lived in your household were all fast asleep, hands softly tucked under the covers.

"i'm home-" neuvillette walks in, setting his work bag down. why was it so quiet? a typical day included a chorus of "welcome home, papa!" and the pitter-pattering of melusine feet padding to the doorway.

"mon cœur! please, calme– i just got the bébés to take a nap," you shush him, cracking open the door to the melusine's room, just a touch.

neuvillette wants to laugh. never in his... centuries? eons? of life, did he ever think he would have evolved to be a man of domesticity.

i know nothing of french all of this was google

reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!

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