#HIS BEAUTIFUL EYES AND HIS PRETTY GOLDEN CURLS....

[slut4sugu]

MY LOVE— zayne x black!fem reader

includes: tooth rotting fluff, zayne being an absolute gentleman, black!femreader, establish relationship (duh), shy & insecure reader

summary: zayne being an absolute husband and reassuring you in looking for wedding dresses <3

a/n: i've been playing love & deepspace lately and omg..just expect more zayne content from here on out

definition of his gaze softened; When you stepped out from behind the pure white curtain, the sudden exposure felt more revealing, more vulnerable, than if you had been naked. It was a different kind of nakedness—a nakedness of the soul, laid bare before his loving gaze. The soft light filtering through the sheer fabric seemed to illuminate not just your pretty brown skin, but the very essence of you, the hopes and dreams that resided within.

"You look absolutely stunning, my love," he breathed, his voice a low, reverent whisper that sent shivers down your spine, each word a gentle caress. His eyes, dark and warm like melted chocolate, held you captive, reflecting the soft light and the blossoming emotion in your own. They weren’t just seeing you; they were seeing you, truly seeing the woman beneath the dress, the woman he loved.

You caught your reflection in a nearby golden floor-length mirror, its ornate frame a blur compared to the focused intensity of his gaze. But it was his reflection in your eyes, the love shining there, that truly held your attention, anchoring you to this moment.

The off-the-shoulder floor-length dress was beautiful, a cascade of ivory silk that pooled around your feet, the flowy train whispering against the polished floor like a sigh. It made you feel like royalty, yes, the fabric smooth against your skin, the weight of it a comforting embrace. But something felt amiss. A fleeting insecurity flickered – a worry about the fit around your waist, a whisper of self-doubt about whether you’d truly done justice to the exquisite design.

But the overwhelming joy of the impending wedding, the promise of forever with this man, quickly pushed those thoughts aside, like clouds scattering before the sun. He saw the subtle shift in your expression, the almost imperceptible tightening of your lips, the way your fingers nervously traced the delicate lace edging of the dress.Rising from the plush sofa, its velvet cushions yielding beneath him, Zayne moved towards you with a quiet grace, his movements fluid and purposeful.

"Angel," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm, a low rumble that vibrated through the air between you, "what is it? Are you uncomfortable?" His honeyed tone, usually so effective at calming your anxieties, couldn't quite reach the deeper current of uncertainty you felt, the quiet hum of self-consciousness that threatened to disrupt the perfect harmony of the moment.

His gaze softened, a wave of tenderness washing over his features as he took in your hesitant stance. His gaze met yours in the mirror, and the vulnerability in his eyes mirrored your own, a silent understanding passing between you. You almost swallowed the words, afraid to burden him with your insecurities, afraid of breaking the spell of the moment.

This was the third dress, after all, and you didn't want to seem difficult or demanding. But the need to share this fragile moment with him, to be truly seen and understood, overrode your hesitation. Your dark curls obstructing his view of your eyes. "It's just… I don't feel…right," you whispered, the words barely audible, a breath against the silence. They felt inadequate to express the complicated mix of emotions swirling within you, the feeling of not quite measuring up to the image in your head.

A beat of silence hung in the air, thick with unspoken emotion, before Zayne gently turned you to face him. His hands, warm and reassuring, cupped your face, his thumbs softly caressing your cheekbones, his touch gentle as a butterfly's wing.

"Darling," he began, his voice filled with tenderness and unwavering love, "if this dress doesn't feel like you, if it doesn't make you feel the way you deserve to feel—radiant, breathtaking, mine—then we'll keep searching. We'll search until we find the one that makes your soul sing, the one that reflects the incredible woman you are." He leaned in, his breath warm against your glossed lips, the scent of his cologne filling your senses, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss, not just to the corner of your mouth, but a slow, deliberate press of his lips that spoke volumes of his affection.

"Because what matters most is how you feel. You are the only thing I see, the only thing that truly matters."Tears welled in your eyes, blurring his handsome features, as you gazed up lovingly at your dark-haired fiancé, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude. You took his hands in yours gently, your fingers interlacing with his.

"Okay," you whispered, a small, watery smile gracing your lips, "but do you have anything else you need to—"

Cutting you off with another sweet, tender kiss, Zayne pulled back softly, his forehead resting on yours, his eyes locking with yours. "You are my only plans for tonight, my love," he assured once more, his voice a low murmur filled with sincerity. "You are my only plan, always."

[kin0k0-7]

His rings

(Tangerine x Reader)

Summary- After another successful mission with lemon and Tangerine you are writhing and squirming thinking about tangerines large hands in and around you

⚠️Warnings⚠️- RINGS RINGS RINGS, in out and around you, fingering, oral (f receiving), getting caught, pound town, P in V, choking, dirty talk, praise

“Jesus, I actually liked this dress” A crease forms between my brows as I try and use a damp towel on the bloody spot. “It’s alright luv you looking dashing blood or not” I roll my eyes at him and continue to try and work out the spot from the satin gown.

I was paired with the infamous twins for a mission in New York to kill a CEO of a big time corporation who owed money to the underground. I’ve been working with the twins for quite sometime and I can’t say I hate it. In this field it seems so hard to find people to rely on and I feel like I have enough of a good rep with them to consider them trust worthy.

“ If anything luv we should called it a night? We’ve done pretty good and we should be getting the rest of the payment tomorrow” He slowly walks to me and puts his hand out infront of me. Lord have mercy, Tangerine is undoubtedly attractive but his hands were on a whole other level. His big calloused hands adorned with those cold golden rings. A shiver runs through me as I put my hand in his and the mix of his slightly warm palms mixed with the coolness of the rings makes my skin heat up. “Yeah that sounds good” a deep sigh of relief leaves my lips as I remove my hand from his.

We call Lemon telling him that we are done with the mission so he can pull the car around. “Took you two numb skulls long enough eh?” Lemon snipped “Took you long enough to pull up with the car hm?” I retorted. A slight giggle left tangerine’s lips as lemon side eyed me. “SHOT GUN” I yelled to tangerine as I slid in the front seat, the smile from tangerines face turns into a scowl, “Fine, lemon just take us to the hotel quick” I feel him slide into the seat behind me. As we are driving to the hotel me and Lemon are listening to California girls on full blast and Tangerine seems slightly annoyed. As he is scrolling through his phone he lips curl up in amusement and he slightly shifts in seat. I stop looking at him and get back into the song with Lemon. As we are siting at the stop light I suddenly feel something cold against the back of my neck. I let out a low moan. The music was too loud for lemon to notice but tangerine started to move his hand around the back of my neck and starts to slightly squeeze at it and massage it. I start to shift in my seat feel the heat between my legs grow more and more intense. As soon as the car starts to move tangerines hand disappears I want to whine at the loss of contact from Tangerines hand and I look back to see him with a smile on his face while I give him a death glare. This bitch. We slowly start to pull up to the hotel and I urge Lemon to park the car quickly. “ Why are you rushing him luv? I thought you like our company” Tangerine looks at me. I glare at him again. “I’m just really tired”.

Lemon parks the car and I basically bolt out of the car. “ I guess I’ll see you two tomorrow morning Good night!” I quickly shuffle away and rush to my room. “What in the hell is up with her” Lemon snorted. “ I have no clue” Tangerine said with fainting innocents.

I struggle to open the hotel with the stupid key card. “Common, common” *beep* the door clicks open. “ Thank fuck” you kick off your heels and shut the door behind you. “ This smug bastard with his gorgeous smile and beautiful eyes AHHHH” you breathe out in annoyance as you make your way to the bed. Propping yourself in the centre of the bed you move your hands over your eyes trying to get the images of tonight out of your mind. You start to snake your hand down your dress and settling it in between your legs as you start to rub circles on your clit. Thinking about the way he grabbed your waist and feeling the rings against the small of your back. “Mhmmm~ Tangerine” To absorbed in your own moment you failed to notice how the lock to your room clicks open and a familiar silhouette stands in the hall way. “Tangerine please” you start to grind on your hand harder. “Well luv since you asked so nicely” you froze as you opened your eyes to see Tangerine rolling up his sleeve. Immediate embarrassment washes over you. “How the hell did you get in here?” You mentally face palmed at the beginning of the mission you guys both swapped the spare keys to your rooms. You start to try and sit up but to your surprise he grabs your ankle and tugs you towards the end of the bed. “Nice technique but really luv? I think you need a little help hmm?” You shake your head yes but he doesn’t move. “Now luv we both know your a big girl so I need you to give me a yes so I can finger this tight little pussy”. He starts to rub up and down your inner thigh. “ Tangerine please I need you, god I want you so bad please” “Your wish is my command luv” he hikes up the skirt of your dress and starts to pull down your underwear. He smirks seeing at how soaked you are for him. “This wet already? I’ve barely touched this pretty little cunt?” He shoves the underwear in his pocket and takes his finger and painstakingly slow runs it in between your fold before bringing his finger to his lips. He groans a bit on his fingers “now that’s some sweet candy right there”

He holds his hands up to my mouth. “Show me which ones you want me to use luv” I start to suck on his middle and ring fingers and moan when I feel the metallic taste of his rings. He takes his fingers out of my mouth and starts to trace phantom circles above my entrance. “Look me in my eyes luv “ I looked him in his eyes as he starts to put one finger inside. “Mhmmm fuck” I breath out. The warmth of his hand and the coolness of his rings start to overstimulated senses as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. “Just like that luv” he starts to add the other finger while picking up the pace. “Look at you taking my fingers” the feeling of the fingers in the rings has my mind blanking. He moves his head from next to mine to in between my legs. “Holy sHIT” I feel his mouth starting to suck and lick my clit. “Just like that baby you’re almost there” his voice starts to send vibrations through me as I unravel around his fingers. “That’s a good fucking girl, just like that luv”

He gets up and moves away from the bed and starts to strip down. “Now luv I want you to do me a favor take off that dress or I will and my way will end up with that dress in pieces” you start to rub your thighs together, but as appealing as that sounds you decide against it and you take off the dress and your bra leaving you naked in the middle of the bed. “Now look at that” tangerine looks you up and down hungrily. He gets on the bed and takes your face in his hands and kisses you, it starts out slow at first but the it started to get more heated. You broke the kiss and started to kiss down his jaw and leave dark bruises along his collar bone and down his chest. He flips you guys so that you are now straddling him. You feel his dick under you and you start to grind. “Do you want this luv” he lets out a low moan as you start to suck the sides of his neck, you slowly pepper kisses up to his ear “I want this Tan” within the next second he thrusts up into you and both of you let out a loud moan. You slowly start to grind and bounce trying to tease him. He throws his head back. “Not a wise choice luv” he grabs your hips and starts to thrust up into you at a fast pace. You fall forward onto his shoulders as he fucks up into you. “You are taking me so well luv just a little bit more you got this” your eyes start to roll to the back of your head as his strokes get sloppy “tan please can I cum I’m so close” “not yet just a little longer luv” he leans down and starts to start and bite your nipple and rolling the other nipple between his fingers and making sure he puts his rings against your skin. You feel him twitch inside you and his hands move from your chest to your ass as he bites down hard on your shoulder cumming inside of you. His sudden harshness causes you to cum with him.

You both plop down on the bed heavy breathing as you both come down from your highs. “That was amazing” you manage to croak out. “You think we are done luv? We just got started”

Authors note:

HEY MUNCHKINS! Sorry if this story is a little short it is kinda hard to do this w nails one bit I hope you enjoyed. The next fic is either gonna be David or Pietro so keep an eye opennn‼️🩷

[kissingarthurclaus]

Guyssss I think I really love Sportacus....😭😭😭

[oreo-creampie]

‘𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧’ 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩’

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! 69ing, face sitting/cocksucking, face fucking, light somnophila (satoru wakes up quickly when you sit on his face), slapping your ass a little, light pain kink, squirting, overstimulation, fingering

Fey: i found this while cleaning up my drafts, cleaned it up a bit, nothing like some simple face sitting in the middle of the night

Waking up to Satoru whining your name following it with, “Suck…warm…nnn! Please! Mama! Deep throat mmmm.” The small night light casts a golden glow dimly illuminating the bedroom.

You sit up squinting until your eyes adjust. Satoru is on his back giving you the perfect opportunity. Slowly pushing the blankets to the bottom of the bed, carefully straddling and sit on handsome Satoru’s face waking him up.

Satoru mumbles, “Mmmm?” Within seconds of waking up Satoru is sucking on your clit, grabbing your hips. Your cunt muffling his moans.

Clenching his pretty face with your thighs, “You woke me up so I figured I’d shut you up by sitting on your face.” Grinding your clit on his tongue, Satoru tightens his grasp, flicking his tongue faster.

You push the blanket off his beautiful naked body. Running your hands over his beautiful chest, squeezing his thick pecs and drags your nails along his thicks. Biting your bottom lip when he flexes and ruts his hard cock in the air.

“S needy that you’re having wet dreams about me.” Lying down on top of Satoru and taking his cock into your mouth. Bobbing your head and fondling his balls.

He loudly groans declaring his pride. Gliding his long thick fingers into your soaking wet cunt. He knows your body too well it takes him a few seconds to get you’re trembling on top of him.

Swirling your hand along Satoru’s long cock. Swirling your tongue around his light pink head with loud needy moans. Gliding him in deeper with a slow bob of your head, Satoru groans and thrusts his cock deep into your mouth.

Gagging on his cock, and squeezing both of his thighs. Your sloppy wet cunt muffles his needy whine. The vibrations from whines, groans and moans feel too good, Satoru is so noisy even with your cunt in his face.

Brace yourself for Satoru to fuck your mouth whilst eating you out. Any intentions to top him quickly crumbling in favor of letting him do what he wants with your body.

Satoru roughly smacks your cheek four times, squeezing your sore cheek. Pumping his fingers faster, adding a little more pressure with his tongue.

Gliding his cock out of your mouth and trying to catch your breath. You softly kiss and lick his head till your breathing is a little calmer. The second you take him in your mouth Satoru is rocking his hips, desperately fucking your mouth.

You’re trembling on top of him, curling your toes and clenching his face with your soft thighs. Satou’s firm grasp keeping your hips still. Being unable to move to get any temporary respite from his tongue and fingers bullying your cunt makes the oncoming high seem bordering threatening.

A wet warm feeling builds between your legs. Your soft cunt quivering around his long graceful fingers making your cunt squelch. You’re cumming yet the pleasure is building.

He loudly moans gush on his face squirting warm thick cum on his fingers. Satoru glides his fingers out and stuffs his tongue in to lick you clean. He grabs your hip smearing some of your slick on you.

Letting you go, you thighs tremble when you get off his face to lie on your side of the bed. Satoru sits up to turning on the lamp, he croons. “Princess lemme make it up wit ya by fucking you back to sleep.” Pushing the pillow off the bed, he grabs your ankle and pulls you into the middle of the oversize bed.

all works

[gaypirate420]

Kitty cuddles // Viktor.

S1!Viktor x gn!Vastaya!reader.

Summary: Viktor's emotional support cat-hybrid person.

Part two.

Fluff.

Your fingers wrapped around a brush, dipping the tip on a little blob of paint on your palette, your eyes focused on the canvas ahead of you then it shifts to the sight you're trying to recreate, the wide window of your balcony. The day is beautiful, perfect clouds and the way the sun hits your plants is simply divine.

Behind you, a tired inventor was struggling. Viktor sighed and threw his body back into his chair, today is his break day but of course he's still working anyways. Your sensitive ears twitch, he's been whining and huffing and mumbling curse words for at least the last half hour, but he brushes off any concern from your part, as usual.

His golden gaze falls on you sitting on your stool, he smiled faintly as he saw your fluffy tail swinging around lazily, almost brushing the floor.

"I think you should lay down for a minute, love." You speak softly, suggesting the idea for the fourth time. Viktor looks down at his make-shift desk. His neck is starting to hurt, and his back and his leg-

The zaunite reaches for his cane and with a small whimper he stands up, his cane clanks for the next couple of steps until he reaches the couch. Your shiny eyes stared at him, making sure he wasn't feeling more than just tired.

A soft grunt leaves him as his body falls down on the couch, taking one of the cushions on his head and the other on the small of his back, shifting around until he is comfortable.

"I meant in our bed, beloved." You speak softly, he shakes his head, his tired eyes meet yours.

"I like seeing you paint, koťátko." Viktor whispers with a hint of a slur to his words. You smiled softly, continuing to place soft strokes on the canvas but you could feel his gaze on you, you would turn your head occasionally, his eyes getting more and more droopy each time you looked.

After cleaning your brush with a cloth and leaving your palette aside, you stood and walked towards the couch, the soft bean pads on your feet making your steps silent.

Viktor looked up at you, with a little pleading gaze. You smirked faintly, leaning down to press a soft kiss on his lips before laying down next to him.

"I wish I could keep you with me in the lab, koťátko." He whispers, his arms wrapping around your body, holding you close. Your body is naturally warm, it feels so comforting in his aching body.

"It would make the long nights much easier to endure." Viktor continued, your hand cupped his face being mindful of your sharp nails as you caressed his pale skin. His right hand moved, his fingers wandered up your spine to the back of your neck and finally resting on the base of your ears, where they began massaging softly.

You immediately react, your eyes close and you nuzzle your head against his cheek, rubbing softly your face against his, your ears twitching gently, you love when he massages your ears, he's so gentle, so careful, he knows how sensitive they are.

"Such a pretty one." He whispers, placing a kiss on the top of your head which leads to a soft mewl from your part. Viktor enjoys this way too much, the weight of you on top of him, the warmth of your body and how your tail sways against his leg, your nose twitching against his cheek.

The Zaunite relaxes against you, feeling like he has a weighted warm and very fuzzy blanket on top of him.

And of course the cherry on top.

The soft vibration of your chest and purrrrr.

Vitkor smiles softly, his amber eyes stare at you, curled up by his side, purring softly. He envies you a little bit, you can fall asleep in minutes. He finds it adorable also.

"I love you so much, koťátko." He whispers softly, your ears twitch, letting him know you heard him loud and clear. He chuckles softly and closes his eyes, holding you close as he lets your soft noises and warmth lull him to sleep.

A/N:(Divider) I saw Lest and I too wanted to be a cat-person who's also a bad bitch and of course I had to throw Viktor into the mix. Probably a Vastaya will become my favorite reader to write but oh well. Hope you liked it! Send requests!

Viktor when Jayce asked to meet his partner:

[princessbellecerise]

Morning Desires

Summary ✩ The beauty of Targaryen men is often said to be irresistible, and Jacaerys is no exception. After waking up early one morning, you find that you cannot, in fact, resist your gorgeous husband

Warnings ✩ Morning sex, smut, slight somnophilia, creampie, husband!Jace, blowjob, 18+

The sun was shining brightly when you woke up that morning, soft golden light pouring in through the windows and casting an almost ethereal glow over you and your husband.

When you opened your eyes, you were amazed to see how beautiful he looked sleeping so peacefully next to you. The morning sun shined down on him, making him look like one of those ancient Valerian gods that he spent so much time studying.

His brown hair was swept across his face, his pink lips parted. Soft snores could be heard falling from his lips and you giggled as he mumbled in his sleep.

Truly, you did not think you had ever seen a more gorgeous sight. It was rare that you got see Jacaerys so relaxed, so carefree. He usually spent his days and nights stressed about whatever the state the realm was in. Seeing him at peace was a sight that you drunk in greedily, brushing some of his curls from his face before sighing.

You did not wish to wake him, but an idea suddenly formed in your head and it left your core aching with desire.

It had been two weeks since you and Jacaerys had been intimate, and the feeling of his manhood pressed against your thigh, hard as a rock, reminded you just how much you missed your husband.

Before this stupid conflict in the Riverlands had broken out, Jace used to take you every night that he could. You would spend hours wrapped in each other’s embrace, soft words and gentle touches exchanged. You missed the feel of your husband. Now that he had been coming to bed so late, he was usually too exhausted for any activity other than sleep.

Today was actually one of the rare days that you had even woken up in the same bed as him, and though you felt terrible about it, the urge to feel him inside of you again was just too great to resist.

Lust had its grip on you this morning and you were not strong enough to deny it. Especially not when Jacaerys looked so delicious beside you.

You’d apologize later for disturbing his sleep, but right now, you needed your husband.

Gently, you positioned yourself so that you leaned over him, peppering soft kisses along his jaw and using a hand to trail up his thigh.

Jacaerys in his sleep shivered as you found one of his weak spots, sucking at the delicate skin and making sure to leave a mark. Redness spread over the several spots that your lips visited, licking and biting as you pleased while Jacaerys squirmed underneath you.

He still had not woken up, but his body was so used to your touch that he was involuntarily reacting to it. Several times did his hips buck into thin air, his cock growing harder the lower you kissed and the higher your hand went.

You smiled softly to yourself as he began to moan in his sleep, obviously feeling the way your lips had attached themselves to his chest.

You teased him by taking one of his nipples into your mouth, biting it like he does to you. For a few seconds, you sucked on it, leaving a love bite on his chest before moving on.

By the time you found yourself kissing his stomach, Jacaerys finally began to stir beneath you. His eyes fluttered open as you traced your tongue just above his hips, holding them down as your hand grasped his manhood.

He groaned, obviously awake now, and the sound prompted you to look up at him just as your lips found his cock.

You smiled deviously at your husband as he looked down at you with wide eyes, having the pleasure of seeing his pretty face just before you took him into your mouth.

“Fuck!”

Immediately, Jace’s hand reached down to tangle itself in your hair. Wasting no time, your husband guided you down on him, losing his breath as you managed to take his entire length.

You had done this many times before, so it was easy to open your throat, breathing through your nose so you wouldn’t choke. Using your spit, you eased your lips up and down his cock, your cheeks hallowing to give him more pleasure.

You were careful not to go too fast, but just enough to have him at your mercy. Jacaerys moaned and whispered sweet praises as you sucked his cock; ones that had your core throbbing with desire. A familiar wetness pooled between your thighs, your arousal burning hotter and hotter.

The sounds that your husband started to make only fueled your desperation further, and they indicated that he was almost near his peak. You did not want him to come; not yet since you still ached with the desire to satisfy your own needs. So, before he could reach his release and end your morning fun, you quickly pulled away and straddled him.

A desperate whine left Jace’s throat at the sudden loss of pleasure, but it was quickly replaced by a broken moan when you sank yourself onto his cock.

Together, you nearly collapsed at the feeling of being connected again. After two weeks, your cunt had desperately missed him and you could tell that Jacaerys felt the same.

Tenderly, he held onto your hips and threw his head back as you rode him. The morning light continued to shine down on him, bathing him in rich, golden light. It highlighted the sweat that had began to coat his face, his eyes looking like pools of honey as he kept your gaze.

Softly, Jacaerys pulled you down to meet his lips, capturing you in a passionate, fiery kiss.

Your moans were swallowed by his mouth as your tongues met, tasting the sweetness of one another and relishing in it.

As his cock slid in and out of your cunt, you felt a familiar pinch in your core that had you clenching around him. Jacaerys groaned as you began to bounce faster on his cock, releasing your lips so that he could watch you come undone. He held your hips steady and guided you into a pace that satisfied you both, your bodies so intertwined to the point where your release matched his.

Under a spell of desire, sleep, and desperation, your husband let out a groan as he shuddered underneath you. The last threads holding back his peak snapped, and you could feel his seed coating your walls as he let go.

Likewise, Jacaerys could feel your legs shaking as you clenched down on him and moaned. After so long, your release washed over you and clouded your senses, the pleasure almost as blinding as the light. To Jacaerys, it accentuated your features, making you look like a goddess as you came.

With your lips parted and your head thrown back in ecstasy, you looked like the absolute epitome of beauty. The kind of beauty that women envied and men worshiped.

Jacaerys swore that there was never a man as lucky as he was in that moment, staring at you with love and adoration as you collapsed next to him.

For a few moments, neither of you said anything. As the sun rose around you, lighting the room with a soft yellow glow, you took a minute to admire each other. It had been quite some time since you’d gotten a proper look at your husband, but honestly he was just as breathtaking as you remembered him.

“Sȳz tubis, issa jorrāelagon,” You told him softly, practicing the High Valyrian you had been studying.

Jace often teased you that your pronunciation sounded just as bad as his once had. Before he had become King, he had the hardest time memorizing what the letters sounded like. Apparently, your Valyrian wasn’t as good as you thought it was but there was no teasing from him this morning.

No jests. Jacaerys only wore a proud smile on his lips as he stroked your cheek, leaning in to plant a kiss on your soft skin before chuckling.

“Well, good morning to you too, my love.”

[mcondance]

knowing better, twisted pleasure ☆ spencer reid

MDNI 18+ oral yay!!!, i love thinking about spencer with his head between my legs so here we are, overstim so “stop” is said once so keep that in mind ☆ title from killshot by magdalena bay, listen as you read if you want! spencer i can’t get enough of you please.

☆ ☆

it’s too much, you can’t. you can’t.

“spence— spence stop,” you plead as you squirm and your legs draw up in an attempt to get away from him. but he just won’t stop. unaffected, he slips his hands under your thighs and pulls you closer to his mouth, to where he wants you.

soft locks are enveloped in your hands as you card your fingers through them because even in your delirium, giving him affection is like breathing. your objections skate right over that pretty head of his and he keeps going, because he knows you don’t mean it. he knows that if he stops and rises back up to his knees, you’ll be begging him to “come back, please,” like you did that one time he felt really evil.

you gasp when you feel two fingers enter you, and you groan painedly when they begin to move, stroking maddeningly.

spencer’s too good at this, his fingers are too caring and precise inside you and his tongue is too soft and sweet as it laves over you. jesus, what the fuck.

it’s all so much, so much. a tortured, groveled moan rips from your chest as another sickly-sweet pang of feeling rocks through you. spencer’s commanding fingers tighten around your thighs, stacking yet another sensation on your already overwhelmed nervous system. human evolution, no matter how developed and perfected, was not made for this. it balks in the face of what spencer’s doing to you.

“oh my god— spence,” you whine, locking in on him through your blurry, teary eyes. between your legs, he looks unfortunately perfect, even as he shuts you down and lights you up all at the same time. you’ve got enough going on under your skin to power your whole block.

it’s lewd, how he looks so pretty eating you out. his messy brown hair and those melting golden eyes, and most disgustingly, his mouth hidden where his tongue flicks against your absolutely soaked center. the visual is art, though, the plane of his shoulders and his ever-expressive liquid hazel eyes flitting between closed and taking you in, in your beautiful ruin.

it’s in moments like these where spencer feels good. you’re explicitly, obscenely beautiful to him, and your pleasure is something he takes great pride in giving to you. as you lose yourself in it, sinking into the sticky pool of feeling, he gets to bear witness to it all.

“oh, baby,” you moan so warmly as he flattens his tongue and licks right over your clit. before, his tongue was quick and precise, but now he’s taken to loving you slowly, licking in a way that could only be called sensual. he hums as he runs his tongue over you again, so salacious, open-mouthed and he looks so dirty that you can’t fucking take it any more. again, your body does its best to protect you from feelings you can’t compute, but spencer does his best to make you take what you need more than air.

then, his fingers inside you focus on their goal, and he’s curling them familiarly and kissing that spot, rubbing it softly.

“yeah, fuck—,” is all you can scramble out before what’s been building up in you since he first settled between your legs explodes. if you didn’t know better, you’d think you’re exploding with how fucking much you feel. it should be humanly impossible to feel this way, but it’s not, because you’re feeling it here and now as your ears pop and your vision goes black and spencer just keeps fucking consuming you. he has the nerves to moan from between your legs, sending shockwaves through your already ravaged being.

eons pass. you travel through a thousand universes and sit upon a thousand suns before you come back to your Earth, with your spencer looking softly up at you, his head laying on one of your glossy thighs. as your senses slowly return to you, it seems he’s wiped his hand off on the sheets because the hand that’s rubbing the outside of your thigh is relatively dry, considering its previous position.

“you okay?” he asks warmly.

“fuck you,” you drag, croaky and unpolished.

he snorts.

“yeah, you’re okay,” he says through his laughing, unhooking his hand from under your trembling thigh as he rises up to hover over you. he kisses you, and just barely begrudgingly, you kiss him back.

“good?” he whispers over your lips. you wrap your arms over his neck as you both settle with each other.

“yeah,” you acquiesce lightly with a shrug and a tilt of your head, before you bring him down for another kiss.

[arcielee]

A night of pleasure.

Paring: Ser Gwayne Hightower x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.7k+ Warnings: AFAB Reader, the newest Hightower serving cunt, dom flare perhaps?, oral (m receiving), p in v, edging, masturbation with a sprinkle of voyeurism Author’s Note: This is a slight alternative of Baela not noticing them, so Gwayne and his merry men could tell Crispy to fuck off and they found that place off of Rosby Road. Thank you my Tumblr kindred spirits who helps me brainstorm, and a huge thank you to my beloved @aemondsbabe who beta read and helped me make sense of this smutty smut.

You awaited in a row with the other girls who had been called down by your Madam for review. It was often on behalf of some big bellied lord who was traveling along Rosby Road, who would choose which one he would take his pleasure from with sweaty grunts and moans, but tonight was different. 

The honorable guest in question was Ser Gwayne Hightower; he walked the line with a smirk playing on his lips and his eyebrow arched with his scrutiny that came in-hand with his privilege. He was undeniably handsome though, with copper tones against alabaster skin and a dusting of freckles you only noticed when he finally paused in front of you. 

You straightened enough, poised for display, burning as his gaze relished over your figure. The murky cobalt blue of his eyes darkened with his smile. 

“I want her.” 

Tonight you are the envy of the other girls. You can feel your thighs tensing with your anticipation as you follow him into the room. You remained by the door, watching as he pulled his tunic over his head; your eyes washed over him, admiring the muss of his red hair to the pale planes of his chiseled chest. 

He caught you staring, another smirk on his pink lips. “You should undress,” he said, more a command than a request. 

You burned under his heady stare, your fingers quick to unlace your gown and allowing it to puddle at your feet. Your cream chemise underneath was sheer with the candlelight of the room, an amber glow that poured over you both. 

He moved closer towards you, his hand moving to cup your cunt and feeling through the cloth that covered it; you  were bare beneath, your heat already pooling into his touch, and he hummed his satisfaction. He leaned closer, his breath hot in the shell of your ear. “This as well, pretty girl,” he said and his words bolted through you; you removed it, completely bare before him. 

“Now on your knees,” he gave the husky command and you sank to the floor at once, looking up at him through your lashes. “Good girl.” 

Your eyes fell to his waist and you could truly understand his arrogance that was heavy between his thighs. He wore his breeches low on his hips with a tease of golden hair that dipped towards the thick outline that pressed from his crotch. Your fingers trembled to touch, but he gave another hum of encouragement which emboldened you to loosen the laces and pull out his cock. 

Ser Gwayne was kinder than most. His virtue was his patience as he watched your wonder. You gave a tentative lick and a kiss at the base; he throbbed as your tongue curled underneath, following up towards his swollen cockhead. You could taste the salt of him and you shifted, moving slowly to take him inch-by-inch until your nose pressed against his lower abdomen. 

He groaned, something that vibrated through you, and his hand rested on the nape of your neck, not forcing you but also keeping you in place. His hips bucked and your fingers bit into his thighs, your eyes watering from the lack of air, and only then does he release his hold. 

You coughed, tears streaming down your cheeks, and you saw his satisfaction blatant on his beautiful face; your thighs clenched, your body betraying you. You spit on your palm and your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock again as your mouth moved to reclaim his length, your wet gag mixing with another guttural groan from him. His hips rutted against your face as you slurped and sucked; you were quick to find a tandem with his thrusts, his cock throbbing against your tongue. 

He pulled away from you. “Get on the bed.” 

Another command that you are eager to follow, a slick already spilling between your thighs. You sat yourself on the edge, your thighs plush and your arms rigid at your sides, waiting. 

He moved towards you with deliberate steps that gave a lewd sway to his cock, shining with your spit. Your mouth watered, eyes blown, and you looked up when he chuckled. His finger curled under your chin, tilting your head back further to meet with his heady gaze. “You seem almost desperate for more,” he observed with another smile. 

Before you could answer him, he pushed you back, his hands wrapping around your ankles and propping your feet against his chest, folding you in half into the mattress.

You tucked your chin to your chest, watching his hand guide himself, following your silken slit before he slowly sank into you. You moaned and your hands moved under your hips, canting to try and accommodate his size that was splitting you in half. 

He paused once he was fully sheathed, a low groan pulling from the back of his throat with how you fit around him. He was flushed, rose and golden in the lighting, a lustful black swallowing the color of his eyes when he looked down at you. He moved, his hands pressing into the back of your knees to balance himself as he began to fuck you into the bed. 

You were panting with his brutal pace, your hands knotting into the sheets. His hips snapped against you, filling you with a passion that builds in your core. You dared to lift your hand, your fingers flitting to touch the bloom of nerves above your entrance; it was a trill of pleasure before being stopped suddenly. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself?”

You felt cold with his words. He pulled away, perched at the end of the bed, his cock red and glistening as he watched you. You clenched around nothing, spilling and staining into the linen from the tease of pleasure that now aching through your bones. “Please, ser, I did not mean to offend–” 

His hand wrapped around your ankle and he pulled you back towards the edge. It does not take much for him to move you until your torso was pressed against the mattress, your knees touching the floor. You felt his weight pressed to your back with a heat that had you squirming, and he chuckled. “You have not earned that yet,” he said, blowing softly in your ear.

Gooseflesh rippled over your skin with your pitiful mewled response, your hips wiggling for friction. Ser Gwayne tuts, pulling away, and his one hand gripped onto your hip to hold you still. You tensed as you felt his cockhead dragging through your silken folds, coating himself before he moved to fill you once again. 

The new angle sparked something at the bottom of your spine with flames that prickled across your backside as his stroke went deeper and deeper. Your hips bucked back, meeting with his building motion, and his hands bruised into your hips with his brutal pace, the wet smack of skin-to-skin as he fucked you. 

You clawed at the sheets, your mouth falling open, a wordless plea for release that was trilling to your nerve endings and teasing you once again. As your velvet walls began to flutter, he hissed, pulling back to pump himself to completion; you could feel his pearly spend spilling on your arse. 

You wished to bury your face and cry, your body thrumming for a release that you were denied again. Your palms pressed to wearily push yourself upright, turning to look at him. 

Ser Gwayne was standing, already tucking himself away. The brilliant blue of his eyes returned with a shine that looked you over. “Do you feel you have earned it, pet?” 

He was teasing you, his lips ticking upwards. Your thighs clenched again, your head nodding. “Then you may now touch yourself.” His tongue clicked at the end, and your eyes widened. You were rooted until he spoke, “I will not tell you again.” 

You scrambled to lay back onto the bed, uncaring of how his sticky spend seeped into the sheets. You grabbed for the pillows to lie against and you spread your legs for his show. Ser Gwayne was rapt to watch from the end of the bed, almost stoic as his eyes settled onto you. You do not look away, bringing your fingers to your lips and suckling before they dropped below to touch yourself, just as he commanded. 

His jaw ticked with your salacious gesture, which was mostly unneeded as you were still wet and wanting, but it allowed a genial glide for your fingers to find your pearl. Your blood rose to the surface, beckoned by his bold stare and by your precise touch that uprooted the abandoned pleasure that had been pulsing earlier. Your fingers circled to pull a low moan, and his eyes fluttered at the vision you made: so pliant and plush, so very obedient. 

“Just like that,” he rasped, his eyes unable to tear away. His hands flexed at his side, blood pouring until his cock was half-hard. “Let me hear you.” 

You licked your lips, your moans spilling louder as your fingers continued, returning you back to tip you over that precipice with a honeyed burst of passion, pulsing thick onto your hand. It comes as a sobbed release, your chest heaving to catch your breath with how it shattered throughout; you melt into the mattress, boneless. 

“Let me taste you.” 

You opened your eyes, wet lashes clumped together, to see the gentleman gone to madness; he kneeled between your thighs, his fingers dimpling with his hold on you. His head dipped, a deep breath and a murmured, “Heavenly,” that tickled your skin. He placed an intimate kiss to the blossomed bundle of nerves. You cried out, your thighs tightening to a vice around his head, and he groaned against your wet cunt. 

Ser Gwayne pulled back to look at you, his eyes lust-blown, and moved up to capture your mouth for a first kiss, stained with your tart taste that glossed his soft lips.

“You did so well for me,” he praised, nestling against you for another kiss. It was deeper this time, his tongue curling to your own, and your pulse began to flutter in your veins, your passion renewed. “I have decided that I will be keeping you to myself, all night.” 

hotd masterlist || arcie's navi

[nanahachi3]

Lust for life | S.J x P.S

Synopsis: In which getting fucked by Jake and Sunghoon was not on the 2024 bingo card after a party at Jay, you somehow ended up at their place, and God knows what happens next.

Warning: threesome, smut, pussy eating, solo work, cumming inside, Jake is a body worshipper, voyeurism, sex exhibition, reader x jake are fuckibg in front of sung hoon, masturbation.

Oh, there she was—the sweetest girl in the school—wearing a pink cardigan with the most adorable heart-shaped neckline anyone had ever seen. Her hair was perfectly styled, and she exuded a warm and cheerful aura.

Jack, the most popular guy in school, was known for his kind and charming features. He was widely regarded as a good kid by his classmates. Emotionally intelligent and as lovable as a golden retriever, Jack often made jokes and enjoyed pranking his peers.

Then there was you—the kindest and sweetest soul in the school—who changed your aesthetic like the seasons. Today, you dressed up as a sweet girl in pink, with your hair adorned with cute pink ribbons.

On the other side of the classroom sat the school’s Ice Prince, your project partner for English class. Being a foreigner, you spoke English very well, which was why the teacher decided to pair you with him.

Park Sunghoon, the school's Ice Prince, along with another popular guy, was staring at you.

It was the year-end party. You really shouldn’t be here; you were supposed to be at home sleeping or reading a book. But this was the first time you sneaked out for a party.

The party was at your friend Jay's house, but unfortunately, the rain started pouring just at the worst possible time. Two of your best friends unexpectedly offered to give you a ride home, but instead, you ended up in their dorm room.

It was 4 AM, and the rain was still falling.

“Jakey” you whimpered as you felt Jake tearing up your panties and throwing them away.

The pink ribbon that you're admiring your Sunghoon is now tied around Sunghoon's biceps as he smirks, staring at you and Jake from the chair.

They both liked you and today was the perfect day to claim you as theirs.

They made a turn. The first one was Jake who spread his legs. Jake chuckled. Damn, that cute laugh.

“Hoonie, I love her sweet little pounding cunt” He leaned a little closer to your pussy and inhaled The sweet smell of the lotion you used. He shoved his tongue inside.

“Jake eat her out and give her the best head of her life before you insert your goddamn dick inside that pretty cunt”

Sunghoon was the man of few words, while Jake was the blubbering mess.

“ahh”

You cried out as Jake started making munching noises as his tongue was doing the magic on your pussy. He was eating it fast. You grabbed his Hair trying to catch your breath as he continued abusing your cunt and placing small wet kisses on your foldings.

He found your cunt “Oh my god, it's a cunt!” he pinched it.

“Jake, no!” you moaned as he smirked and found a way to tease you continued pinching it till it was all red and swollen.

“Are you a perfectly stretched-out baby girl?”

You nodded faintly, feeling the weariness settle in your bones as you finally regained your breath, the rush of exhaustion giving way to a sense of relief.

“Fuck yes”, you gave him a signal, and he stretched your opening to position himself inside your hole.

After a few minutes, he was finally inside you. You felt a warm feeling curling your walls as he made an effort to warm you first perfectly before inserting himself.

Your eyes travelled to Sunghoon, sitting with his hardened dick on the chair as he was jerking him off as he saw both of you. Probably waiting for his turn to be inside you.

Sunghoon’s hair cascaded down his shoulders, perfectly straight and glistening as it caught the light, creating a halo effect around him.

His captivating eyes, intense, sparkled with a mesmerizing eyes

No wonder he was the ice prince of the school.

He resembled a Greek god, exuding an air of timeless beauty “Please move Jake”

“Anything for my lady” he whispered against your ears and brushed your moist hair Away from your forehead.

Jake was the kind of person who radiates warmth and kindness, his heart shining with compassion like pure gold.

His beauty was enchanting, a vibrant glow that could brighten even the darkest days. With an aura reminiscent of sunlight breaking through the clouds, he seemed almost otherworldly—truly divine in every sense.

Jake's kisses were soft. He captured your lips and placed trails of kisses on your lips, neck marking you as his and your breath too fondling And playing with them a little.

He grabbed your ass and started Moving. You felt the wetness forming inside your walls.

Your eyes rolled up “Ahh Jake it feels so good”

“I know shit this pussy is so good”

Your legs were shaking as he rocked his dick inside you “fuck it's tight” your pussy was clenching his dick so hard.

“Look at me y/n” he forced your cheeks to look at him your lips cried out cause as his cock was moving faster he bit your shoulder leaving Some marks of him over your bare skin.

“Mine and mine you are ours baby” he whimpered.

“Ngh I am yours and Sunghoon” you moaned as it started to feel better now the moon and stars feel so good right now the beauty was insane and timeless.

Beads of sweat formed on Jake's forehead, glistening in the warm light as he struggled to catch his breath. The tension in the air made the moisture cling to his skin.

“Oh god I am damn closed you cried out as he kissed your lips for the last time before pulling out.

Your legs gave a final shake from the pressure he shook His dick that Was close to leak from the pleasure on your boobs.

You let out a soft laugh as he kissed you and continued to whisper sweet words onto your ears.

“Can I have her now?” Sunghoon asked as Jake nodded, moving away from you. He cleaned himself up before putting on his clothes and leaving you alone with Sunghoon.

“Goodbye, Y/n. I will see you and Honnie later. Be gentle with her, Connie!” He yelled before closing the door.

Sunghoon seemed Like a dominant person as he forcefully grabbed your cheeks and cooed them harshly.

“Oh sweet baby you are so pretty that it hurts fingers or tongue?” He asked.

Your eyes widened.

Oh god park sung hoon was a menace.

The choice was yours.

His tongue or fingers first?

[rafedarling]

𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: in the midst of a beautiful hawaiian vacation, drew and you are savoring every moment with your brilliant 2-year-old son, rustyn. joined by drew’s family, the vacation is filled with laughter, love, and sweet moments by the beach. rustyn’s bright mind and affectionate heart make every interaction heartwarming, especially when he decides his parents need to share a kiss.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, family bonding, cute toddler antics, mild pda (innocent kissing initiated by an adorable toddler).

au: wrote this because currently so obsessed with baby rustyn on tiktok, he’s so smart and sweet. like, reblog and comment are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. taglist | tagging: @mileyraes @xoxohoneymoongirl @enjoymyloves @tracymbcm @littlelamy @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @akobx @maybankslover @noobmazter69

A soft and gentle Hawaiian breeze filtered through the open windows of the Airbnb, carrying with it the salty scent of the ocean and the distant sound of waves crashing onto the shore. The golden sunlight filtered into the bathroom where you stood, brushing the last bit of blush on your cheeks as you prepared for the day. It was only the second morning of your vacation in Hawaii, but already you could feel a deep sense of peace and contentment.

Through the thin walls, you could hear the soft murmur of conversation from the living room, where Drew was keeping your son, Rustyn, entertained. At only two years old, Rustyn had a way of commanding attention wherever he went. His bright, inquisitive mind and sweet nature often left you in awe, as he continuously found ways to make everyone around him feel special. Whether it was a loving compliment or a random fun fact he had picked up from one of his many TV shows, Rustyn always knew how to leave an impression.

Just as you were finishing up your makeup, you heard a light knock on the bathroom door, and soon a small voice called out.

“Mommy, can I come in?”

The door creaked open, revealing Rustyn standing in the doorway, his big blue eyes peeking up at you with admiration. He walked inside, his little feet padding across the tiled floor, his excitement for the day evident in the way he carried himself.

“Mommy, you look beautiful today,” Rustyn said, his tiny voice full of awe, as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have such a pretty mom.

You felt your heart swell with love, as it always did when Rustyn offered these sweet compliments. Leaning down, you scooped him up into your arms and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” you said, smiling into his soft curls. “You’re so sweet.”

Just then, Drew appeared at the doorway with a grin on his face. He leaned against the doorframe casually, his eyes soft as he looked at the two of you. “Rustyn’s right, you know. Mommy always looks pretty.”

You smiled at Drew, warmth flooding your chest at the sight of him standing there, his playful charm radiating through his teasing words. Even after all this time, Drew still had a way of making you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.

“Oh, stop it, you two,” you said with a laugh, setting Rustyn down as you finished gathering your things.

“You’re so special to me, Mommy,” Rustyn added sweetly, wrapping his arms around your neck with a big hug as if to emphasize just how much he loved you.

From the living room, you could hear Todd and Jodi’s soft “aww” as they watched Rustyn’s display of affection. His grandparents were always so proud of how kind-hearted and loving he was. Every little word Rustyn said seemed to have the power to melt hearts. You smiled to yourself, grateful for the love that surrounded your family.

“Okay, okay,” you said with a grin, ruffling Rustyn’s hair. “Let’s go get some breakfast. Are you ready for a fun day, baby?”

Rustyn nodded enthusiastically, his little face lighting up. “Yeah, Mommy! I wanna go see fishy!”

Drew chuckled as he grabbed the car keys. “Alright, let’s get going, then.”

As you walked out of the Airbnb, the sun kissed your skin, and the smell of the ocean surrounded you. You couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be spending this time with your little family and Drew’s parents, siblings. The connection between all of you felt so strong, and you knew Rustyn was growing up surrounded by so much love from everyone around him.

Once everyone had gathered their things, Drew packed up the rental car, making sure Rustyn was safely strapped into his car seat before helping you into the front passenger seat. Todd and Jodi settled into the back, chatting softly about the day ahead. The air was filled with the warmth of a family vacation—easy-going, full of laughter, and stress-free.

Drew started the car, glancing over at you with a soft smile before shifting his attention to the road. “So, what are we thinking for breakfast? Pancakes for Rustyn, or something more adventurous?”

You laughed. “Rustyn could eat pancakes every day if we let him.”

From the back seat, Todd chuckled, “The kid has good taste.”

As the car rolled down the scenic coastal road, the windows open to let the cool breeze in, Rustyn began his usual habit of filling the car with his boundless curiosity.

“Mommy, did you know that dolphins are really smart?” he asked from his car seat, his little legs kicking back and forth as he peered out the window.

You turned slightly in your seat, smiling at him. “Oh yeah? How smart are they?”

Rustyn’s face scrunched up in thought as if he was recalling one of the many nature shows he loved to watch. “They can talk to each other with squeaks!”

“That’s right, baby,” you said, nodding in encouragement. “Dolphins are very smart.”

Drew glanced in the rearview mirror, clearly amused. “What else do you know about dolphins, Rusty?”

Rustyn continued excitedly. “And turtles! Turtles can live for a really, really long time—like, a hundred years!”

Todd, sitting in the back, grinned and leaned forward slightly. “Is that so, Rusty? You’re a walking encyclopedia, aren’t you?”

Rustyn beamed at the praise, clearly proud of himself. “I know lots of things!”

Jodi chimed in with a warm smile. “You sure do, sweet boy. Maybe you’ll be a marine biologist one day.”

Rustyn seemed to like the sound of that. “What’s that?”

“It’s someone who studies ocean animals, like dolphins and turtles,” you explained, watching as his eyes lit up with interest.

“Yeah! I wanna be a marine… biologist!” Rustyn said, his face scrunching up as he tried to say the word correctly.

The entire car burst into laughter, everyone already so charmed by Rustyn’s enthusiasm for life. Drew reached and squeezed your hand, a gesture of shared pride in your little boy.

“He’s going to do great things,” Drew said softly, his voice filled with love as he looked back at Rustyn, who was now babbling happily about his future ocean adventures.

When you arrived at the breakfast spot—a quaint beachside cafe with a view of the ocean—you saw that Drew’s siblings, Logan, Brooke, and McKayla, were already there, waiting for you all at a large outdoor table. The sea breeze was refreshing, and the early morning sunlight cast a warm, golden glow over everything.

Brooke was the first to spot you, waving you all over with a grin. “Finally! We thought you guys were never going to show up.”

“Sorry, Rustyn had to give us a marine biology lesson on the way here,” Drew said with a chuckle as he approached the table.

Logan laughed, reaching down to high-five Rustyn, who was already eager to share more of his newfound knowledge. “Rusty, my man! What did you teach them this time?”

“Turtles can live for a hundred years!” Rustyn declared proudly, his chest puffing out with pride.

McKayla smiled fondly at her nephew, reaching over to ruffle his hair. “Well, look at you, little genius.”

The conversation flowed easily as everyone sat down, catching up with each other and enjoying the relaxed vibe of the island. Drew’s family was always warm and welcoming, and it felt so natural to be surrounded by them. Rustyn, ever the center of attention, charmed everyone with his sweet compliments and random facts, making sure to tell each person at the table how much he loved them.

At one point, as you waited for the food to arrive, a couple sitting nearby noticed Drew. They exchanged nervous glances before hesitantly approaching the table.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt,” the woman said, clearly excited but trying to be respectful. “We’re big fans of your work, Drew. Could we get a picture?”

Drew smiled kindly, ever gracious with his fans. “Of course. No problem.”

As he stood up to take the picture with the couple, Rustyn watched intently from his seat, his little face full of curiosity. As soon as Drew finished and the couple thanked him, Rustyn piped up loudly, his voice full of pride.

“I’m a big fan of my Dada too!”

Everyone, including the couple, burst out laughing at Rustyn’s unexpected but adorable declaration. Drew’s face flushed slightly as he reached down to ruffle Rustyn’s hair, clearly touched by his son’s words.

“You’re too much, bud,” Drew said with a smile, leaning down to kiss the top of Rustyn’s head.

The rest of breakfast was filled with more laughter, light teasing, and stories of the adventures everyone had planned for the day. Rustyn, always the star of the show, kept everyone entertained with his endless questions and sweet declarations of love for his family.

After breakfast, you all decided to spend the rest of the day at the beach. The sun was shining brightly, and the water looked impossibly inviting. Rustyn could hardly contain his excitement as you, Drew, and his siblings set up camp with a large umbrella and a pile of beach towels.

Rustyn tugged at your hand, his little face filled with anticipation. “Mommy, can we go swimming now?”

You smiled, squeezing his hand. “Of course, sweetie. Let’s go!”

Drew grinned as he helped Rustyn into his floaties before scooping him up and carrying him toward the water. “Let’s see what you’ve got, buddy.”

As soon as the cool ocean water lapped at your feet, Rustyn let out an excited squeal, splashing around with glee. Drew, ever the playful dad, lifted him high into the air before gently dunking him into the water, making Rustyn giggle uncontrollably.

After a while of swimming, you decided to take a break and build a sandcastle with Rustyn. The two of you sat side by side in the soft sand, gathering buckets of wet sand while Drew stayed in the water with Logan and McKayla. You helped Rustyn carefully pack the sand into a tower, guiding his small hands to shape the castle.

“Mommy, look! I found a shell!” Rustyn exclaimed, holding up a small white seashell he had discovered buried in the sand.

“That’s perfect, Rusty! We can put it right here,” you said, showing him where to place it on the sandcastle.

Drew, having spotted the two of you from the water, made his way back to the shore and dropped down beside you. “How’s the sandcastle coming along?”

Rustyn looked up at him with a big grin. “Good, Dada! We found a shell for it.”

Drew nodded appreciatively, leaning in to examine the shell. “Wow, you and Mommy are making quite the masterpiece.”

You chuckled, brushing some sand off your hands as you admired the nearly finished sandcastle. “He’s a natural builder.”

After a few more minutes of playing in the sand, you leaned in close to Rustyn and whispered, “Hey, baby, can Mommy have a kiss?”

Rustyn nodded, but instead of leaning in for a kiss himself, he had a different idea. With a mischievous grin, he grabbed both your face and Drew’s, pulling you two together with surprising force. He giggled, clearly wanting his parents to kiss each other.

Drew let out a soft laugh, his blue eyes twinkling with affection as he looked at you. “Looks like someone’s playing matchmaker,” he said with a teasing grin.

You smiled back, your heart swelling with love as you leaned in to kiss Drew. It was a soft, tender kiss, made even sweeter by the fact that Rustyn had initiated it. When you pulled away, Drew still had that fond, loving look in his eyes.

“You’ve got good ideas, Rusty,” Drew said, ruffling his son’s hair.

Rustyn giggled happily. “You’re supposed to kiss! It makes you happy!”

Drew chuckled, pulling you both in for a group hug. “Yeah, bud, it really does.”

As the day wound down, the entire family gathered under the umbrella, lounging on towels and sipping on cold drinks. Brooke and McKayla had picked up fresh coconuts from a nearby vendor, passing them around as everyone settled in to enjoy the sunset.

Logan and Todd were still determined to outdo each other in their impromptu sandcastle competition, while Jodi sat back, laughing at their antics.

Rustyn, now thoroughly exhausted from the day’s activities, snuggled into your lap, his little eyes drooping as he fought off sleep. You brushed a hand through his soft hair, smiling down at him as he yawned.

Drew, sitting beside you, wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the two of you watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

“This was a perfect day,” you whispered, leaning your head on Drew’s shoulder.

Drew smiled, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Yeah, it really was.”

Rustyn, half-asleep now he’s laying on your chest, murmured softly. “Love you, Mommy. Love you, Dada.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you looked down at him with a smile, your love for him overflowing. “We love you too, baby,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared over the horizon, you felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you. The love you felt for Drew, for Rustyn, and for the family surrounding you, was all you needed. This was your perfect moment—a moment filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of your little family.

[acciotaitlynn]

Their reactions to finding out you struggle with self image

⁠❥ sexual content, 18+, acts involving mirrors and paints🙈, mentions of porn, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex ♡ 1.3k wc

⤷ Rafayel

Rafayel takes offense when someone doesn’t appreciate the true beauty of something, especially when the someone is you and the something is your breathtaking form beneath him. So when his messy kisses travel lower across your stomach, and you stop him with a gentle tug on his soft curls, letting him know you don’t want him going down on you because you “don’t like how you look down there…”Rafayel accuses you of providing a rather rude appraisal of his favorite work of art. “You’re going to revise your column in a minute, cutie. But first…” he teases, trailing off as he dips his paintbrush into the vibrant gold paint, admiring how it shimmers on the bristles before kneeling in front of you.

He spreads your thighs wide, his gaze flicking up to you for the briefest of moments as he focuses his attention on his muse. “This is where I want to paint you, so don’t move,” Rafayel murmurs, carefully studying every curve and line of your body before the brush glides over your skin. He captures your form in the shade created with you in mind, the bristles moving with slow, deliberate strokes, covering you in vivid swirls and intricate shapes. Each tiny detail leads to his painting’s focal point. Your embarrassment fades along with your insecurities as he starts teasing your clit with the faintest of brushes. Just a flick of cool, golden paint against your sensitive skin as you mumble, “... I’ll choose to assume whatever you made it from is safe for this.” Rafayel lets out a small laugh, his voice low and slightly husky, “Relax, cutie, it’s just a special type of seaweed…” He gives into his desires, licking your clit—one of the few paint-free spots on your skin— pulling it into his mouth before forcing himself to stay still. A couple more strokes of his brush, he pulls away, setting it to the side as he speaks. “Don’t ever say that you aren’t beautiful, because you are. Every part of you.” His hand steadies you at the hip, smearing his painting across your body, his kisses leaving a trail of golden lip prints along your skin. The look on his face can only be described as hungry as his body presses against yours, his cock messily slapping against your folds, playing in the pretty pigment before sliding inside you. Rafayel doesn’t miss the way you peek down, admiring the image of your glittering bodies moving together, “That’s it, cutie… now keep watching. We’re not finished until you admit that you’re a masterpiece.” 

⤷ Zayne

Zayne is genuinely stunned when you express your insecurities to him, as he finds you nothing but stunning both inside and out. It’s his job to appreciate the intricacies and beauty of the human body, and he almost takes offense at your perception of yourself. As you undress per Zayne’s instructions, you watch him with wide eyes as he grabs a hand mirror and sterile gloves before pulling you onto his lap. His voice is soft and soothing, his eyes never leaving yours through the mirror. “Watch closely, love.” Cool, gloved fingers glide down your body, teasing you with deliberate slowness. Sensing your nervous gaze drifting away, Zayne takes your chin, turning you back to the mirror. “Look at yourself, sweetheart. Look at how beautiful you are. Look at how your body responds to my touch…” His gaze is locked on your pussy, greedily sucking in his fingers, the sounds of the gloves moving inside \you driving both of you wild. Leaning in closer, his lips barely brush your ear as he traces a lazy path through your folds. “... See how your skin tingles and your breath quickens when you feel me here?” Zayne murmurs. Firmly guiding your hands to rest just above your knees, he admires the look of desire in your gaze as it locks on your reflections. His eyes roam over your body, appreciating every curve and dip, his every expression full of admiration. His words are a low possessive whisper, sending shivers down your spine. “Don’t take your eyes off yourself. You have to understand how irresistible you are…” 

⤷ Sylus

When you gain some weight while Sylus is away, you turn on porn for the first time to distract him from your slightly plushier hips and thighs. He towers over you, grabbing your chin between his fingers and making you look up at him. There’s more than a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Are you suggesting you’d rather sit and stare at a screen than look at me, kitten?” You mess up by being honest, and now your cheek is pressed against the sofa while he envelops you from behind, guiding your focus to the image of the two of you, playing in vivid color along the wall. His breath is hot against your skin as his lips wander, nibbling their way up to your ear as his hips press into yours to convey his growing desire. You can sense how much your actions irked him with his possessive grip on your throat and the way his soft voice almost growls, “I have absolutely no interest in watching anything other than the pretty little kitten beneath me now.” Sylus’s hands explore your body, tracing every curve and line of your frame and features, his hands moving under your shirt, pulling you closer. Feeling every curve and contour of your body only intensifies his desire for you as he holds you firmly against him, making you watch as he quickly frees himself and drives inside you. He maintains his grip on you, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he talks about wanting you to see how perfectly your bodies fit together... how fucking incredible the two of you look together. Sylus is willing to spend the entire night showing you how lovely you are, claiming you repeatedly, letting you know no one else could please him the way you do, his hands and lips everywhere as he shows you just how much he wants and needs you. As the night progresses, he leaves plenty of marks and bruises on your pretty skin, proudly displaying to everyone how much he cherishes calling you his.

⤷ Xavier

It doesn’t sit right with Xavier to tell you he doesn’t know what you’re talking about, that he can’t understand why you wouldn’t think every inch of you is beyond perfect, how insane it is to him that you don't see yourself as the most beautiful, incredible thing he’s ever seen. All he can do is give you a stern but gentle look as he tosses your shorts aside, placing your naked, nervous form before him on the bed and murmuring, “... Bunny, I don’t want to hear you call yourself that ever again. I want you to love yourself. I’ll make you…” He guides your hands across your body, observing each of your motions as you reluctantly take over, spurred on by the lust in Xavier’s eyes when they lock on yours. You can’t help but whimper as your fingers fill you up, and he starts squeezing his cock with quick strokes, working out pretty beads of precum with every touch. His eyes flick to yours, dazed and needy. “Is this what you need to see? To see how much I crave you?” Xavier asks, letting out a soft moan, the sight of your delicate fingers slipping in and out of you so perfect it takes his breath away. He pulls you close, letting his erection flop heavy against his stomach, unable to do anything but watch you as his cock twitches eagerly in his lap. “I’m addicted to every inch of you… you’re so soft; your skin, your voice, your touch… I want to keep looking at you… I want you to keep looking at me…” Xavier will show you how much he wants you so you won’t ever forget it. But he'll need some reassurance of his own before letting you see his cum spill out without needing a single touch—“... Bunny, let me know how badly you want me, too, okay?"

[choas232]

Canine Vastaya! G/N! reader x Steb ⊹ ˖ 𓃡⊹ ˖

Summary: Progress day has you and your fellow enforcers relaxing. Slacking, even. Posted deep in the bowels of the festivities, you decide (against your will) that you might join them along with your coworker, Steb.

Reader is a canine Vastaya, and an enforcer. NO MORE SILLY READER. We are serious people now. No use of Y/N, neutral terms and they/them are used to refer to reader.

CWs: Emetophobia, just one line and not described in depth. Suggestive themes. Most of all, SLACKING ON THE JOB.

Word count: 3.3k

⊹ ˖ 𓃡⊹ ˖

Gold. So much gold. Glimmering and crowding, the city fighting itself so violently that even you, you with your dulled Vastaya vision, can see the gory speculate of the festivities laid bare for all to see. The squawks of children, vendors, golden ticking butterflies, machinery, force your ears flush to your head. The scent of cheap carnival treats masquerading as delicacies assaults your sensitive nose, and try as you might you can’t push down the fur dusting your neck, standing on end.

Overstimulating. Cruel. Beautiful. You lean back on the chair, pressing your coiled tail against the hard surface to hide how it curls close to you.

“Can I leave now?” The man sat in the medical tent behind you slurs out. You do not give him the courtesy of replying, but you turn, catching Steb tucking the equipment back into its rightful places. The man’s not on any of the horrid drugs you see slipping out of Zaun these days, and although his remaining brain cells might be worse for wear, he just needs to sleep it off.

Maddie finishes chewing out his drunkard friends for leaving him passed out, and hastily trots back to the tent, wiping the thin gleam of sweat off of her forehead and quickly adjusting her hat. It’s only a brief lapse before she’s back to Junior officer Nolan, sternly helping him to his feet and carting him out to his waiting, hooting friends.

“Having fun?” She teases, returning back to the tent and slumping down on the chair beside you. You scoff, and turn back to watching the crowds, still spotting out of the corner of your eye how Steb moves to join you.

You try not to look at him, instead focusing on the ginger beside you. This turns out the be almost as much as a mistake as allowing yourself to dwell on your affections for him, because she’s already looking at you.

You see her grey-blue eyes flick to your tail, pressed tightly down between your legs now that your audience is gone, and then back to your ears. “Or maybe, disappointed to be missing out on the fun?” she gestures to the drunkards, stumbling away and your lips pull back in a semi-amused scoff.

“I’m working. This is important.”

“I think our law-mandated breaks are pretty important too.” You give her a scrutinizing look, and she shrugs, still smiling. “You two take a break. I’ll man the station.”

Two. Alone with him? No. You can’t.

“Your hypocrisy is almost as amusing as the fact you’d think I’d even consider taking a break.” You hastily push out, grasping like a drowning cat for a footing.

“Ahhhh. There’s where you’re wrong. I don’t think. I know.” She tilts her head, pointing a freckled finger towards your face.

Dammit. Your ears, perking up of their own accord, press against the hard surface of your enforcer helmet and traitorously peeking out. You move to tuck them away, scowling as you do, and you swear you watch her swallow a snicker.

Telling her was a mistake. Why did you think telling his closest friend you held… affection for him was a good idea? That your helmet is so tight it makes your skull ache in an attempt to hide your perking ears? That you stayed up teaching yourself sign language for him, even though you knew you could never let him know? That you think of him, constantly, each 24 hours, 1440 minutes and 86400 seconds of your days?

Possibly the alcohol in your system and the choking feeling of having pressed the fondness low in your gut, hoping it would rot. It didn’t

Steb watches the exchange without interjectural, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. Calmy, he reaches a hand to brush at his scaled cheek before beginning work on unrolling the sleeves still tucked up from his medical misadventure.

You feel like a teenager, rabid and nervy as you try not to look, but also try not to look like you’re trying not to look.

 “Steb? Thoughts?” Maddie, noticing your gaze, crosses her legs, looking up at him from her place on the chair and folding her arms.

His eyes widen slightly at addressal, and he shallowly nods, tilting his head towards you followed with a questioning look. Do you want to?

Misinterpreting his communication on purpose, she gleefully spins back around to meet your glare. “A yes than. Don’t worry friends. I’ll be just fine all on my lonesome.” She turns to meet the sea of wide brimmed hats, parasols (all the rage, lately,) and bold, bright colours, and you know the conversation is done. She can be frighteningly persistent when she puts her mind to a task, and you know better than to argue and further her teasing.

With a sigh and a quick prayer to the heavens, you turn to make the maker of your troubles, who politely offers you a hand. You take it, and he hauls you off of the chair.

You curse the makers of the leather gloves that adorn his hands.

Great heavens. Where did that come from? Certainly not you.

Trying to accept defeat with grace, you say, “I could use a walk, anyways,” stretching as you do, popping your back and pushing out your arms until your claws scrape the roof of the tent. Steb’s eyes follow, and then snap away as you peer at him. “Any sightseeing you want to get done?” You try to evenly ask him.

He pauses, and then, with a tilt of his head, splays a hand out to instead gesture to you. He’s doting. You’re not to used to it. You didn’t get to where you are with hands holding on to yours, anyways.

“Well. I… I could do with some food.” There’s this stall, far from the main, noisy festivities and food-poisoning littered stalls that sells the sweet fried fruits of your childhood. Crunchy, thick and rolled in flour on the outside, and slick with blue, sweet juices that burst on your tongue when you take a bite. Nice to gnaw on for your teething child’s self, blue staining your lips and splattering across the pressed shirts your parents draped you in for Progress Day.

He nods, and then concernedly taps his helmet with a flicker of his ears. For a moment you don’t understand.

Then you do.

Of course he remembers how you complained about how the enforcers uniform’s headpiece hurts your ears, not built to suit Vastaya. A throw away comment. Of course, he looks at you with those big, gleaming blue eyes, stupidly kind-hearted, and of course your traitorous tail kicks up behind you.

You clamp it between your legs, meeting his eyes defensively and ignoring how they glance down to observe it. From her place, Maddie is grinning. You don’t need to look at her to tell.

You unclasp your helmet, dropping it onto a nearby table, flickering out your strained ears out not unlike your limbs minutes prior.

“Ready to go?” You inquire, and his ears affirmative flicker, nodding goodbye to Maddie as you leave. You do too, but with a different picture painted in your features. She laughs, and then the crowd swallows you whole.

The adults parts around you, one bonus to being in uniform. The children, however, do not follow this courtesy, instead slamming past you after miniature flying ships and bright, pink bubbles that chime when they pop. You have half a mind to reach out and feel the oil and soap slick surface yourself, your glimmering reflections blinking back at you.

Steb observes each passerby, each float and display with keen interest, every now and then glancing back at you. You try to pre-emptively look away when he does. He’s perceptive, you’ve noticed. Alert. Always the first to act, always to first to spot the danger.

You just hope he doesn’t notice how without meaning to you drift closer to him, how now your ears press against your skull with a different emotion than overstimulation.

You have half a mind to mimic his attention, anyways. The arcane, and technology, has been kind to you this year. The exploits of the people of Piltover has been many. You pass a humanoid golden robot, speaking animatedly and advertising the goods of a nearby vendor, and then a functioning, beating silver heart, water pumping through its long metal cords. A man yells over at you, trying to sell you golden jewellery fit for adorning your fangs, stopping when he sees the uniforms.

All the metal, the fabrics, and the ridiculous uniform, the heat cages you in. You push down the urge to stick out your tongue, pant, instead reaching up to massage sweat out of your nape and furred ears.

With a tap on your shoulder that makes you startle, he cuts through the crowd towards a nearby vendor, gesturing for you to wait. You do, and moments later he returns with water.

He makes it so hard not to love him.

Gratefully, you take it, unbottling the cap and taking a great gulp, water dribbling down the sides of your mouth. His sip of his own bottle, cool and elegant, makes you feel slightly ashamed, but he doesn’t seem to care. After refusing to let you pay him back, you continue on your way.

Finally, after what feels like simultaneously too long and too short of a trip, you duck under a banner-stricken archway, and step into the courtyard. Less adorned than the other sections of the festival, but in your humble opinion, kinder on the eyes. Copper, oxidized and gleaming blue, is crafted into flowers. They paste themselves over every inch of the courtyard, forming archways up to a great canopy, light filtering through to softly  illuminate your path, along with a cool breeze.

Small tents, strung with buzzing lights dot the area. Families sit beneath them, enjoying modified ice-cream that never melts, young couples tenderly brush their hands together on benches, and vendors chat.

You approach the stall, the store vendor barely looking up. The little embroidered rhinestones on their face flash as they lazily push a hand towards a sign, reading out the golden font. “30% discount for couples,” before turning back to the puzzle, some kind of contraption with a prize inside, no doubt.

You’re halfway through an awkward, no, that’s not, we’re not— when the scent of the fruits plasters to your nostrils. Delicious, dripping in memories of childhood, of stained fabric and high-pitched giggles.

Dammit.

Steb glances at your wagging tail, crushing any hope of retaining your dignity. He doesn’t look away quickly this time, trailing up slowly to meet your eyes, lips slightly parted. Your body betrays you, as it always does. You just hope he assumes the fruits are the cause.

“We’ll have six, please.” You defeatedly ask, abruptly looking away. Three for you, three for him.

Do you look like a couple? With your matching posture, neat uniforms, completely and utterly in step… you need to be, to do the work you do, and you talk without talking, but it’s largely because he’s mute. So why did they…

He reaches down into his pockets to tug out his wallet. You beat him to it, slamming yours down with a dull thump against the counter. He would scoff, you think, had he been more animation in his features, but the narrow of his eyes makes you well aware of his displeasure. You smile back at him, enjoying the childish feud. Your fangs flash.

Your damned tail is still wagging.

The vendor passes you the long, wooden sticks, three of the delicious treats impaled on them. You take yours and repress the urge to devour it immediately.

“Where to sit…” You mumble, only to spot the tents, shaded from the light and cooled by the breeze. Steb follows you as you fall with a thump into the tangle of blankets. He carefully sits as not to drop the treat, removing his hat and carefully placing it in the mouth of the tent.

You dig in. It’s exactly as what was remembered, filling, the thick fried flour coating contrasting with the blue juices inside. At first, you try to eat neatly, like you see your fellow Enforcer doing, but that falls to pieces the moments you get your fangs on the fruits. You wolf it down, (a pun, from you? More likely than one would think.) with a gusto that scares you, and place the wooden stick down on the mat below you.

You watch as he tilts his head, holding one hand under his mouth to catch stray crumbs and the other holding the stick at an angle so he can sink his pearly whites into the treats. It’s a careful process, one that doesn’t leave any of the mess splattered across his face, nor his shirt.

Conversation isn’t your strong suit. You aren’t literate in waxing poetic, nor charming the teeth off your fellows. The silence you keep with him is comfortable. It houses you in it’s embrace not unlike the breeze gently nipping at your skin.

You hate to say it, but Maddie was right. You’re enjoying this. Perhaps too much. You can hear your disobedient tail gently thumping against the fabric.

God, you’re parched after devouring the treat. Already having finished your own bottle, you eye Steb’s. Would it be weird to ask him to take a sip? Would you wrap your lips around the rim? No, no, but pouring it into your mouth without contact might look childish and ridiculous… perhaps you shouldn’t…

He notices you looking and slides you the bottle. Without thinking, your mind still screaming, you unclasp the top and take a swig. Saliva— his saliva is on the lips of the bottle… lips?

God, are you fifteen? You need to get a hold on yourself.

“You’ve been quiet.” You mutter, without really thinking. His eyes narrow, his head cocking coyly to the left. “I— you know what I mean… you haven’t been saying as much… showing as much?” He humours your attempts at communication with his full attention, turning to meet you as he places the blue-stained wooden stick away.

“…are you nervous?”

He shakes his head.

“Tired?”

Again. A quick shake.

“I’m out of guesses.”

He leans back, a quiet hum coming deep from his throat as he does. “Calm?” you don’t know why you sound as disbelieving as you do. A shallow nod, with a wave of his hand this time, towards your loose posture, relaxed, perked up ears and gently wagging tail. You’re calm too, you suppose.

Then, with a pause, he reaches up to brush his fingers to his cheek. “Hmm?” You mirror him, pressing yours to your own face. Your fingers come off blue.

He dips his fingers into his breast pocket, pulling out that neat, unstained handkerchief. Does he buy them in bulk? Does he clean them? A mystery you don’t want to uncover. He hands it to you, and you thank him quietly. He watches you as you dab the corners of your face, for a moment, before he repoints, gesturing for you to move to the left. You miss it again, before he reaches out, not bothering to take the handkerchief from you.

With the rest of his hand braced across your jaw, he stretches out a thumb to push, hard, down, wiping the fleck off juice off.

When he pulls away, you see blue on his finger.

Nonchalantly, he pops his thumb in his mouth, gently tugging the juice off with more teeth than tongue, before his hand moves to rest beside him once again.

You gape. You gape some more. Does he know what he does to you? Reduces you, you, studious and hardworking, you, into a mess. A stuttering, tail-wagging, blushing mess. You want to strangle him. You want to kiss him. He glances back at you, and you try to casually resume what you were doing before— what was that again?— your senses kicking into overdrive.

“Did you enjoy the uhm, snack?”

He nods, relaxedly. You feel, and retain, the horrible feeling you are being teased.

“…Yeah. Me too.” You swallow, and than talk, maybe to fill the once comfortable silence, wrangle it into submission. “I used to come here with my parents. When I was younger. They used to dress me up— in shirts they knew would be ruined by the grime I would acquire playing carnival games. I…” You don’t know where you’re going with this. Ceasing your rambling, you knead fabric in your hands. “Any happy memories of Progress Day?”

He nods. For a lapse too long to be natural, he pauses, almost in thought, and then with his thumb and pinkie fingers extended and his three middle fingers curled into his hands, he hurriedly brings his arms down. ‘Now.’ ‘Today.’

Sign language.

“I’m glad.” You quickly mutter, before your running mind can outpace your voice. Your face is treacherously flushing.

You realize too late he doesn’t know you’ve been teaching yourself sign language.

That him using it makes little sense— and frozen in the headlights, you watch as his face changes. He peers at you. He peers at you some more, and then his hands are moving, quickly. You catch pieces, something— M-A— something—I-E —Tell — something—

Oh. Oh no.

“Maddie? Maddie told you what, exactly?”

This is the situation of your nightmares. Telling her was a mistake. A drunk mistake you’ll regret for the rest of your life, your pitiful life. Scared to watch his face but fearful looking away will make you look guilty— can you deny this? Laugh it off?— you hover somewhere between letting your racing thoughts overwhelm you and trying to breathe, dammit.

Slowly now, he pats his fingers to his outspread palm, before tapping his forehead.

‘Learn.’

He points to his moving hands

Learn… sign language….

Oh. Thank the lords.

She told him you learnt sign language for him.

Like that’s any less of a confession of love.

He’s still looking at you. Waiting for an explanation, maybe. God, you hate feeling like this— completely at his mercy.

“I. Ah.” Is it just you, or is he moving closer? It’s messing with your head, anyways, how close he suddenly feels to be. Your heart rattles around your ribcage. “I wanted to. For you.”

For you? You’re an idiot—

He kisses you.

You taste sweetness, sugary and blue on his lips. They’re softer than you thought they would be. He kisses as earnestly as expected, though. Just once, very chaste, pulling back to gingerly watch your expression.

That doesn’t last long before you go in for seconds. Or maybe he kisses you again. The details are lost in the hand you thread into his hair— his hair gel slick hair.

His hands blindly clutch for the curtains of the tent, yanking them shut with force. Your tail thumps so loudly against the ground you barely hear the little noises you make, barely feel his hands, steadying themselves on your sides. You kiss him again. And again. You gorge yourself on it— like the hungry wolf you are. He is so soft, and you are starving.

Piltover’s finest. Piltover’s finest. You’re Piltover’s finest. Handpicked, educated and dressed in taxpayer funded uniforms. You’re golden, machine-made butterflies, you’re store vendors, you can’t think, you’re ripe and plump for the picking, and you’re hating these stupid uniforms, these wretched uniforms, so tough to unbutton as they are.

It’s just when he threads his tongue over your pointed teeth, only when you move your fingers to his shoulders, and then down, when somebody staggers over drunkenly, throwing up loudly in a nearby bush.

With a sigh, he detaches (you do not miss the string of blue-stained saliva that connects you for a brief moment), rising to his feet and feeling for his helmet.

No rest for the wicked, you suppose.

He gives you a long look as he tugs the tent door open, tapping his finger against his palm and then twisting his hand down.

‘Later?’

Your tail thumps louder than you thought it could.

⊹ ˖ 𓃡⊹ ˖

Notes: Thank you to @spac3-shark for suggesting this sihiwnsowd. If i ever revisit this idea, I might try feline reader. Cat x fish? You get what I’m putting down? We’ve done yapping, silly reader, and stoic reader…. What next. If you have any ideas, please message me, drop an ask, anything!!! :)

As a side note, You curse the makers of the leather gloves that adorn his hands.

Great heavens. Where did that come from? Certainly not you.

Reader: he should take off his gloves…

Reader: WHO SAID THAT.

SIDE SIDE NOTE: I swear there will be more kissing and less yearning next time!! you have my word.

[celestialtarot11]

PAC: Random Messages for You

Hi friends! Thought I’d do something tarot related instead of astrology today. Do enjoy and let me know your feedback down below! <: it means a lot to me and this blog.

Pile 1: Hi there pile 1! You may be experiencing a disconnect within your home life, or not even that but a disconnect to spirituality. There may be a lot of shifts and changes happening in your life at the moment, and it feels as though there’s a lot of tension within you. I’m seeing a box and it keeps folding in on itself, imploding not exploding. All that tension is really sitting within you. I encourage some (I heard bath therapy) so maybe some of you like to take baths with herbs, crystals, and candles. Do that! There may be some uninvited energy around you at the moment. Also some of you need sleep. Rest. Stay off the phone before bedtime, and if you can, meditate! Meditation can look different, for some its sitting in nature, going on a walk, or laying there. There’s a really huge shift here—I don’t think you expected this ending to have happened either with someone you loved or this disconnect either spirituality. I almost feel as if there’s this longing, but also hopeless feeling of: “why? Spirit? Why me?” And I heard: it matters where you are. So, if you’re in an environment where there are people taking advantage of you how can you set boundaries? What do you need? How can you make this process easier for you? It’s likely these people or this place is contributing to your issues at the moment. I also believe spirit wants to let you know that they hear you and are there for you <3 “it matters where you are,” they know, they’ve heard your prayers. If you need confirmation this is it. Journaling can help a ton, there’s a lot of mental energy but in the sense that its squashed. Normally you feel pretty upbeat but it almost feels as if there’s defeat and its a little too silent with all the things you wish to say. Express yourself. Cry it out. I also heard hug it out! So hug it out if you can with a friend, hugging yourself, or hugging a stuffed animal. Yoga may be great for releasing trapped emotions in the body too. I hope you feel better pile 1 <3 thank you for your support and being here.

Pile 2: Hi there pile 2! Welcome! For you I feel as though there’s a lot of green energy around you at the moment. It surrounds you like a garden! I can see your aura with vines, curling up to protect your space and flowers blooming all around. So beautiful! Im also hearing it took a long time to tend to this garden, so you really did take a lot of time to focus on your confidence, healing and transformation. Im also seeing a mermaid emerge from the sea and she’s by the moon. She looks carefree! That’s you. I feel as though you’re learning to vibe with being alone and being okay with being single, although you don’t necessarily have to be. You may be in a position of power in your career now or in the future will be. Im seeing someone grab a book and write down all their ideas and goals—with this determination in mind to make it happen! You may be a fixed sign or have multiple (Leo, Aquarius, Scorpio, Taurus) and suddenly it manifests. This is the kind of success you’ve been building up towards. I also heard this is the success where I feel at peace within myself. Its not necessarily about external factors (although it could be like owning a house—I heard that) its more so the peace that comes with trusting yourself now after all these years. I also see your third eye is open which is revealing to you things that were hidden before. Hidden knowledge. Im seeing spirit is giving you these messages as if its sacred—you’re drinking out of a golden goblet and its this magical juice lmao. Some of ya’ll have very imaginative inner childs and love to concoct stories, so maybe your inner child is out and about! I legit see your inner child dressed like a diva with their sunglasses, sparkly pink kitten heels to slay the day away! So cute. I just feel you have mended that relationship sincerely. You could be a: pisces, pisces 5h/1h, aries, leo, sag, cancer placements. I also see this is an important time for harvesting results. I heard: there is result beyond fear. There is relief beyond fear. On the other side of fear there is joy. So perhaps this has been a mantra for you. I see EFT tapping therapy, so maybe some of you engaged in this. I see breath work, learning to work with your energy. I heard kundalini as well! So some of you may certainly be focused on spirituality and practices. Your inner child is so important—literally hearing their words of awe at the world. Your encouragement means so much to them right now, it’s as if they’re allowing themselves to express themselves again! Thanks pile 2 for being here <3 means a lot to me!

Pile 3: Hey ya’ll it’s 10:10 as I write this so there’s a strong presence of spiritual support! Love that. You guys might be a virgo rising, have virgo placements, virgo 2h, or strong mercurial aspects. An exalted mercury even! I see that for you guys there’s this hazy thick fog. It feels as though your energy is very much guarded and anyone who tries to come in is maybe hit with a wave of confusion. Kind of like they’re stunned. Its kind of cartoonish, and silly. But I see this as a protective mechanism! You guys have been focused on getting your life together especially your finances. You could be budgeting more, spending less, and overall grinding. Keep it on the low and hustling. I also lots of self care so maybe you’ve switched your routine, you’re getting your hair done, nails, lashes, etc. You want to feel your best self and Im literally seeing your spirit team cheer and fist bump. Its like they’ve been wanting you to love yourself and—“finally you got the message,” is what I heard 😭 I’m also hearing “pump it up,” I know its a song, its pop music, really catchy. There’s a lot of happy bright energy surrounding you and I think you’re really feeling yourself. And I think that anyone who tries to disturb your peace I literally see you putting on sunglasses to act like they don’t exist. I feel like you guys are also really funny which people don’t expect—you have a very dry humor and might be great and stand up comedy. I also feel your phone is filled with a bunch of memes to go on the daily. It’s on butt dial at this point. I feel as though you appear intimidating but you’re really funny, chill, and grounded. You may have taurus/Capricorn placements as well. Lots of earth! Maybe all your big 3 is earth. I feel as though you’re being told to enjoy yourself and have fun! Let loose and chuck the ruled aside momentarily. It wouldn’t hurt to let go. I think for so long you’ve been hustling and grinding—so its time to celebrate how far you came! You may attracting suitors or attention is what I heard lol, lots of eyes on you! Especially through this transformation. I see you going from alone to suddenly everyone is around you. So maybe you’re graduating, getting that promotion, it’s your birthday, or there’s an event coming up! This is really going to help you feel your best self <3 Im also hearing euro pop music, so maybe ya’ll are into that. And dream of euro pop blasting in clubs (bring back this era) I dont know if you know Inna and her music. “Hot” by inna is playing! But thanks pile 3 for being here! Sincerely appreciate it all. Your feedback means a lot to me.

Extra

Paid Readings 🤍

[pucksandpower]

Fantasy Come to Life

Day 23 → Consensual Non-Consent 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content, CNC, drugging, and conditioning

Kinktober Masterlist

The streets of Monaco glimmer under the soft afternoon sun, a golden haze coating the narrow lanes of boutiques and cafés. Your sandals click against the cobblestone as you make your way towards the boutique district.

Excitement pulses in your veins. The air smells of salt from the sea mixed with expensive perfumes wafting from open shop doors. A vacation, you think. Finally, a breath of freedom.

There’s a group of tourists ahead, their laughter bouncing between the buildings, but you don’t pay them much attention. You’re too busy thinking about the new dress you’ve been eyeing since last night. Just a few more minutes, and you’ll-

A hand. Suddenly.

It’s over your mouth. It’s over your nose. You barely process the scent of something sweet before your body reacts, muscles tensing as you thrash, trying to scream. But your voice is gone. Your world is tipping sideways. The bustling streets dim, muffled voices becoming far-off echoes.

You struggle. Harder now, your legs kicking wildly, hands flailing to grab onto something — anything — but it’s useless. The arms around you are too strong, pulling you back, pulling you down. The cloth over your face smells like chemicals, sickly sweet and heavy.

The light above you begins to blur. Your fingers twitch, reaching for the fading streetlights, for the sky, but everything’s too far away. Your limbs stop responding. You’re falling.

And then — nothing.

***

When you come to, your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. Everything is hazy, dark. You try to move but your body doesn’t listen. Panic flares. You can barely breathe, and your head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton.

Then you hear voices. Men, low and murmuring, their words filtering into your consciousness through the haze.

“... should be waking up soon,” one of them says. His voice is smooth, calm, like this is all perfectly normal.

“Why her, though?” It’s the driver, speaking in a clipped tone. The rumble of the engine thrums beneath you, the subtle vibration reminding you that you’re in a car. “There are thousands of beautiful women here, Max. You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

There’s a pause.

And then, a deeper voice, Max, answers.

“I knew the moment I saw her,” Max says, his tone dark, possessive. “She’s meant to be mine.”

Your heart thuds. You can hear him shifting in the seat next to you, close enough that you can feel the heat of him.

The driver scoffs. “That’s ridiculous. You don’t even know her.”

“I don’t need to,” Max replies smoothly. “Some things are undeniable.”

His words drip with confidence, like this is all part of some grand plan that only he understands.

You try to move again, to make a sound, but your limbs are heavy and unresponsive, and fear curls in your stomach like a fist. You’re trapped, lying motionless in the backseat of this car with two strangers, one of whom thinks he owns you.

“She’ll resist,” the driver says. “They always resist.”

Max chuckles, low and quiet. “Of course she will. At first.” There’s a pause, then you hear him shift closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “But I’ll make her understand. She’ll be perfect once I’ve made her mine.”

The air around you feels suffocating, his presence overwhelming. You want to scream, to cry, but your body remains limp, powerless under whatever they’ve drugged you with. You try to focus, to force your eyes open, but it’s like swimming through quicksand.

“She’s pretty,” the driver remarks after a beat. “But not worth all this. You really think she’s the one?”

Max lets out a quiet laugh, a sound that sends chills down your spine. “She is the one. I’ve seen plenty of women, but none like her.”

The driver grunts, unconvinced. “You sound obsessed.”

“I’m not obsessed,” Max corrects him, his tone calm, deliberate. “I’m certain.”

A silence stretches between them, the only sound the hum of the engine and the faint rustle of fabric as Max leans back.

You fight against the drug still clouding your senses, trying to make sense of your surroundings. The luxurious leather beneath you, the soft vibrations of the car — this isn’t just any car. It’s expensive. You can tell by the way it smells, by the subtle way it moves over the road. These men — they aren’t amateurs.

“What’s the plan, then?” The driver asks, breaking the silence. “You can’t just keep her like this.”

Max takes his time responding. “I’ll introduce myself properly once she wakes up. Once she’s calm.”

“And if she’s not?”

“She will be,” Max says, a thread of steel weaving into his voice. “She doesn’t have a choice.”

Your stomach churns. You try again to move, to scream, but nothing comes out. It’s like your body is a prison, and you’re trapped inside, helpless. You feel Max’s gaze on you, heavy, unyielding. Even though you can’t see him, you know he’s watching, waiting.

“You’re insane,” the driver mutters, shaking his head. “This is a bad idea.”

Max doesn’t respond immediately. When he does, his voice is low, quiet, almost intimate. “You don’t understand,” he says. “She belongs to me. I knew it the moment I saw her walk out of that hotel. I could feel it.”

The driver sighs. “I still don’t get it. Why go through all this trouble? She’s just a girl.”

“She’s not just a girl,” Max snaps, his patience thinning. “She’s the girl. The only one.”

Your pulse quickens. You’ve heard enough to know that whatever Max wants from you, it’s not something you can just walk away from. There’s something dangerous about the way he talks about you, like you’re an object, something to be claimed and owned.

“Whatever,” the driver says, clearly done with the conversation. “Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“I always do,” Max replies, the confidence back in his voice. “Now, keep driving.”

There’s a shift in the car, a turn, and you feel the momentum change as they head somewhere new. You fight to stay conscious, to fight through the fog in your mind, but it’s getting harder and harder to focus. The drugs are still working their way through your system, and you can feel yourself slipping.

Max leans in closer again, his voice soft, almost a whisper. “Don’t worry,” he says. “You’ll wake up soon. And when you do, we’ll start over. Properly this time.”

The car hums beneath you as it continues its journey, and with every second that passes, you feel yourself fading again, drifting away into the darkness.

***

Time slips away, and you don’t know how long you’ve been out when you finally stir. Your eyes flutter open, and the world slowly comes back into focus. The car has stopped, parked somewhere dark and quiet. You can barely move, but you manage to shift slightly, just enough to feel the weight of the leather seat beneath you, the tightness of your clothes against your skin.

There’s a rustle next to you, and then Max is there, leaning over you, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“Good,” he murmurs, his voice a low purr. “You’re awake.”

You try to speak, but your throat is dry, and all that comes out is a faint croak.

“Shh,” Max soothes, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Don’t try to talk. You’re still a little out of it.”

Your heart races, and you try to push yourself up, but your limbs are still sluggish, your body refusing to obey.

Max watches you for a moment, then smiles. “Don’t worry,” he says. “This will all make sense soon enough.”

You want to scream, to lash out, to fight, but you can’t. You’re trapped, and Max knows it.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, leaning in close, his breath warm against your skin. “And I’ll make sure you understand that.”

Terror grips you, but there’s nothing you can do. Not yet.

Max sits back, his eyes never leaving you, and for the first time, you realize just how much danger you’re in.

The world outside the car is quiet, the faint rustle of leaves the only sound in the stillness. You’re groggy, trying to push through the fog in your mind as Max’s hands move to unbuckle your seatbelt. His touch is efficient, calculated, not gentle. The door opens with a soft click, and you feel the cool night air wash over your skin.

Max leans down, his face close to yours, eyes sharp and watchful. “I’m going to carry you inside,” he says, almost as if he’s giving you permission to protest. But you can’t. You can barely lift your head. The drug still lingers, turning your limbs to lead.

Without another word, he slides his arms under you, lifting you effortlessly. His grip is secure, possessive, and you can feel the strength in his muscles as he carries you out of the car and toward the looming silhouette of a villa in the distance. It’s massive. Larger than anything you’ve ever seen in real life, with sprawling gardens that stretch into the darkness. The villa itself is lit from within, a soft glow spilling through tall windows. It’s beautiful in a cold, detached way, like a piece of art you can admire but never touch.

As Max carries you up the long driveway, his pace is steady, unhurried. He isn’t worried about anyone seeing him. He’s confident. Why wouldn’t he be? There’s no one around. No one to help.

“Where are you taking me?” You manage to whisper, your voice weak but steady enough to ask the question that’s been burning in your mind.

Max doesn’t stop walking. He doesn’t even look at you. “Home,” he replies simply.

You swallow, the word landing like a stone in your chest. “This isn’t-”

“It will be,” he cuts you off, his voice calm, like he’s already made up his mind about everything. “You’ll see.”

You try to focus, to take in every detail. The way the villa seems to stretch forever, the heavy scent of flowers in the air, the distant hum of the sea. The weight of Max’s arms around you, the way his fingers press into your skin as though he’s afraid you might slip away.

But you’re not slipping anywhere.

He carries you through the grand entrance, past doors that swing open with ease, revealing a marble-floored foyer that’s so pristine, it feels untouched. There’s a quietness to the place, a hollow, echoing silence that sends a chill down your spine.

The sound of Max’s shoes against the marble floor is steady, rhythmic, as he carries you through the house. You catch glimpses of rooms as you pass — an opulent dining room with a crystal chandelier, a sitting room with velvet chairs and enormous windows. But it’s all a blur, your mind struggling to hold on to details as exhaustion pulls at you.

Finally, Max stops in front of a set of tall double doors. He shifts you slightly in his arms, then pushes one of the doors open with his shoulder. The room beyond is lavish, even more opulent than the rest of the villa. The bed is massive, draped in silk and velvet, with heavy curtains framing the windows that stretch from floor to ceiling. The walls are lined with dark wood, polished to a shine, and a crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, casting soft light across the room.

Max walks over to the bed, lowering you gently onto the soft mattress. Your body sinks into the silk sheets, and for a moment, it feels like you’re floating. But the comfort is fleeting, replaced quickly by the suffocating weight of reality.

He stands over you, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s searching for something. “This is where you’ll stay for now,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “Until you understand.”

You blink, struggling to keep your thoughts from spiraling out of control. “Understand what?”

Max’s lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile. “That you belong here. With me.”

You want to argue, to scream, to do anything to break through the haze that’s clouding your mind. But the words catch in your throat, and all you can manage is a shaky breath.

Max moves to the foot of the bed, his hands clasped behind his back as he regards you with that same unnerving calm. “This is the beginning,” he says softly. “The conditioning will start now.”

Your heart lurches. Conditioning. The word feels clinical, detached, like something out of a textbook. But the way Max says it makes it clear that this is no abstract concept. This is real. It’s happening to you.

“What are you talking about?” You whisper, forcing the words past the lump in your throat.

Max steps closer, his gaze steady, almost gentle. “You’re going to learn to associate certain things with me. Pleasure, comfort, safety. And you’ll learn that being without me ... hurts.” He says it so simply, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Your stomach twists. “You can’t ... you can’t do this.”

“I already am,” he replies smoothly, his eyes dark and unreadable. “The process is simple. Every time you wake up, you’ll feel better when I’m here. Worse when I’m not. Eventually, it’ll become instinct. You’ll crave my presence. You’ll need me.”

Your breath quickens, panic rising in your chest. “You’re insane.”

Max tilts his head slightly, as though considering your words. “Maybe,” he says, almost casually. “But that doesn’t change anything.”

Before you can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Max doesn’t react, doesn’t even turn to look as the door swings open. A man enters, dressed in a white coat, carrying a small bag in one hand. He’s older, with graying hair and a sharp, clinical air about him. He looks at you briefly, then turns his attention to Max.

“Everything’s prepared,” the man says, his voice clipped and professional.

Max nods. “Good. Let’s begin.”

The man moves to the side of the bed, setting his bag down on the nightstand. You try to push yourself up, but your body still feels sluggish, uncooperative. Fear surges through you as the man opens the bag, pulling out a syringe filled with clear liquid.

“Wait,” you rasp, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Please, don’t do this.”

Max moves closer, his gaze fixed on you. “It’s for your own good,” he says softly. “You’ll understand soon.”

The physician takes your arm, finding a vein with practiced ease. You flinch, but the needle is in before you can even protest. The liquid burns as it enters your bloodstream, a slow, creeping warmth that spreads through your body.

Your vision starts to blur again, the edges of the room fading into darkness. Max’s voice is the last thing you hear before everything goes black.

“You’ll wake up soon,” he says, his voice gentle, almost soothing. “And when you do, I’ll be here. Right where I belong.”

***

The next time you open your eyes, it feels like hours have passed. Maybe days. You’re not sure. The room is the same, the heavy curtains drawn, the chandelier casting its soft glow across the dark wood and silk.

Max is there, sitting in a chair by the bed, watching you. His presence is like a weight in the room, something you can feel even before you fully register it. The sight of him sends a strange warmth through your chest, a flicker of something you don’t want to acknowledge.

“You’re awake,” he says, his voice low and steady.

You blink, trying to shake off the fog that still clings to your mind. “What ... what did you do?”

Max leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I told you,” he says softly. “The conditioning has begun.”

You try to sit up, but your body feels weak, drained. The drug — whatever they gave you — is still working its way through your system, dulling your senses. But even through the haze, you can feel it. The strange pull toward Max, the inexplicable comfort that his presence brings. It’s wrong. It’s all wrong.

“You can’t-” you start, but your voice falters. The words don’t come as easily as they should.

Max stands, moving to the side of the bed. “I know it’s confusing right now,” he says, his tone almost kind. “But it’ll get easier. The more time we spend together, the more natural it’ll feel. You’ll stop fighting it.”

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog. “I’ll never-”

“You will,” Max interrupts, his voice firm but not harsh. “You don’t have a choice.”

He reaches out, brushing a hand over your hair, his touch gentle but possessive. The warmth that spreads through you at the contact is immediate, overwhelming, and you hate it. You hate the way your body responds, the way your mind seems to betray you.

“I’ll leave you for now,” Max says, pulling his hand back. “But don’t worry. I won’t be gone long.”

Your heart races as he steps away, moving toward the door. The thought of him leaving sends a sharp pang through your chest, and you can’t understand why. This is what you want. To be free of him. To be alone.

But as the door closes behind him, the room suddenly feels colder, emptier. The warmth he left behind begins to fade, replaced by an aching void that gnaws at you from the inside.

You close your eyes, trying to fight it, trying to cling to your own thoughts, but the emptiness crashes over you like a tidal wave. It’s immediate — sharp and suffocating, spreading through your body like a cold fog. You close your eyes, trying to focus on anything else, but the ache pulses deep inside you. Your muscles tense as though they’re bracing against a storm, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

The room feels unbearably quiet without him, as though the air has been sucked out, leaving only a hollow silence behind. You hate this. You hate how quickly your body has betrayed you, how quickly the comfort of his presence has taken root inside you.

This is wrong, you tell yourself. It’s the drugs, the conditioning.

But the longer he’s gone, the more unbearable the ache becomes. It’s subtle at first, like a distant pressure, but it grows stronger, clawing at your insides until every nerve feels raw and exposed. Your breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps as you fight against the pull, but it’s relentless.

Time stretches out. You don’t know how long you’ve been lying there, staring up at the ceiling, but it feels like an eternity. Every second without him feels like a thousand needles pressing into your skin. Your body screams for relief, for the warmth of his presence to soothe the burning ache inside you.

You grit your teeth, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. This isn’t real, you think, but your body doesn’t care. All it knows is that it hurts.

And then, after what feels like an eternity, the door opens.

The relief is instant. The moment Max steps into the room, the ache that’s been gnawing at you recedes, replaced by a wave of warmth that rushes through your veins. You hate it. You hate how quickly the pain fades, how easily your body responds to him, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

Max walks in slowly, his eyes locked on you, taking in every detail of your face as if reading the changes in your expression. You don’t need to speak for him to know what you’re feeling. He can see it. He can see how desperate your body is for the comfort he brings, even though your mind is screaming for it to stop.

“I told you,” Max says softly, moving closer to the bed. “You’ll feel better when I’m here.”

You don’t respond. You can’t. Your throat feels tight, the words trapped inside you, and the worst part is you don’t know if they’d come out as anger or something worse.

Max sits on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. The touch is gentle, careful, and it sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m here to make you feel good,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. “That’s what I’ll always do. As long as you behave for me.”

You swallow hard, the weight of his words pressing down on you. He says it like a promise, like he genuinely believes that he’s helping you.

“I don’t need you,” you manage to whisper, your voice shaking. “I don’t want this.”

Max’s smile is soft, almost pitying. “Your body says otherwise.” His fingers trail down your cheek, brushing against your skin. “You can fight it all you want, but you’ll always feel better when I’m close. That’s the way it’s going to be.”

You try to pull away from his touch, but your body betrays you, craving the warmth and relief that comes with his proximity. The ache that had threatened to consume you moments ago is gone, replaced by a simmering heat that spreads through your limbs, making your skin tingle under his fingertips.

Max watches you closely, his eyes dark and calculating as he gauges your reaction. “See?” He murmurs, his voice soft and coaxing. “You’re already starting to understand.”

“I hate you,” you whisper, but even as you say the words, your body is reacting to him, leaning into his touch despite the protests screaming in your mind.

Max doesn’t flinch at your words. If anything, he seems amused. “Hate me if you want,” he says, his tone light. “But your body knows the truth.”

His hand moves lower, trailing down your arm, sending a ripple of sensation through you that you can’t control. Your breath catches in your throat as the warmth intensifies, and you clench your fists, trying to fight the pull.

Max’s fingers skim the edge of your dress, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches the way your body reacts. “You’ll feel good, I promise,” he whispers. “Better than you’ve ever felt before.”

You shake your head, panic rising in your chest. “No-”

But Max doesn’t stop. His hand slips under the fabric of your dress, his touch deliberate and slow as he hikes it up over your thighs, exposing your skin to the cool air of the room. Your heart races, a mixture of fear and something you don’t want to name thrumming through your veins.

“Shh,” Max soothes, his voice steady. “You’ll learn to trust me. To need me. It’s already happening.”

You try to close your legs, but his hands are firm, guiding you open, controlling the movement of your body as if you’re nothing more than a doll in his hands. A small, broken sound escapes your throat, but he doesn’t stop, his fingers tracing patterns over your skin, making your pulse quicken.

“I told you I’d make you feel good,” he says softly, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “You don’t have to fight it.”

Tears prick at your eyes, your chest heaving with shallow, uneven breaths. You want to scream, to kick, to fight him off, but the weight of your own body holds you down. And worse — the warmth that follows his touch, the heat building in your core, it betrays you. You can’t stop the way your body reacts to him, no matter how much you want to.

Max shifts, his knee pressing against the bed as he leans over you, his hand sliding higher under your dress. His fingers graze the edge of your underwear, and your breath hitches, panic and unwanted anticipation coiling together inside you.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “Don’t.”

But Max doesn’t listen. His hand slips beneath the fabric, his fingers brushing against you, and the sensation is overwhelming. You arch against him involuntarily, your body moving without your consent, and the heat inside you builds, the ache that had threatened to consume you earlier morphing into something entirely different.

“You’ll come to love this,” Max says, his tone calm, confident. “In time, you’ll crave it.”

You want to scream that he’s wrong, that you’ll never crave this, but your body doesn’t listen. It reacts to his touch, to the way his fingers move, coaxing a response out of you that you can’t control.

Max’s other hand moves to your hair, brushing it back gently as he leans down, his lips close to your ear. “Let go,” he whispers. “Stop fighting it. I’ll take care of you.”

Your breath is ragged, your heart pounding in your chest as the heat builds inside you, and you feel yourself teetering on the edge, caught between the need to escape and the unbearable sensation that’s pushing you closer to a precipice you don’t want to fall over.

“I’ll always make you feel good,” Max murmurs, his fingers moving faster over your clit, his voice a steady, calming presence in the storm raging inside you. “As long as you’re good for me.”

Your body tenses, the wave crashing over you, pulling you under. You gasp, your back arching off the bed as the sensation overwhelms you, drowning out every thought, every protest, until there’s nothing left but the blinding heat of release.

Max’s hand stills, his touch softening as the aftershocks ripple through you, and he watches, his expression unreadable as you come undone beneath him. You hate it. You hate every second of it. But the worst part is that your body craves it.

Max leans back, his hand trailing away from you, leaving your skin burning in its absence. He stands, adjusting his sleeves as though nothing out of the ordinary has happened.

“You did well,” he says, his voice soft, almost tender. “I’ll leave you to rest now.”

Your body is limp, your mind spinning as you try to process what’s just happened. The ache is gone, replaced by an empty exhaustion that weighs heavily on your limbs.

Max heads toward the door, pausing only briefly to glance back at you. “Remember,” he says quietly, his eyes dark and intense. “You’ll always feel better when I’m here.”

Then he’s gone, the door closing softly behind him.

You lie there, staring at the ceiling, the echo of his touch still lingering on your skin. The room is silent again, but this time the silence isn’t cold. It’s suffocating, pressing down on you like a heavy blanket, and for the first time since you arrived in this place, you realize just how trapped you are.

And worst of all, you know that he’s right.

***

The door opens again.

This time, when you hear it, your body doesn’t flood with fear, or even confusion — it’s anticipation. The ache that had returned in his absence is quickly soothed as Max steps into the room, his presence undeniable, filling the space with a charged energy that you’ve come to crave.

His steps are measured, deliberate, as he crosses the room to you. There’s no hesitation in his movement, no uncertainty. He knows exactly what he’s doing and what you both agreed upon. The room feels smaller when he’s in it, like the walls close in, but in a way that feels safe, protected — like nothing can touch you except him.

Max’s lips curl into a slow, knowing smile as he comes to the side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. He says nothing at first, letting the moment linger between you, thick and heavy. You’re not sure if you should speak or wait for him to break the silence.

He doesn’t make you wait long.

“Good girl,” he murmurs softly, his voice like velvet as he leans down, brushing a kiss against your forehead. “You were perfect.”

There’s a flutter of warmth in your chest at the praise, something that makes you feel both proud and vulnerable all at once. You blink up at him, your body still exhausted from what just happened, but there’s something comforting about the way he’s looking at you now. The way his hand reaches out to caress your cheek, tender and affectionate, as if to erase any remnants of the harshness from before.

“I wasn’t sure if you could handle it,” Max continues, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw with an intimacy that feels far more personal than anything he’s done before. “But you did. You always do, don’t you?”

You nod, your throat tight, the words caught somewhere between your mind and your mouth. You can’t quite shake the feeling of how intense everything was, how quickly it all escalated. But now, with him here, touching you like this, the pieces of the scene start to fall away, revealing what lies underneath.

Max watches you, waiting for your response, but he’s patient. He always is, especially after something like this. He knows you need time to come back down, to find your footing after the role you’ve both played.

“Was it … okay?” You manage to ask, your voice still soft and hesitant. There’s a vulnerability in your tone, a need for reassurance, even though you know how he feels.

Max’s eyes soften, and he leans down to kiss you — soft, slow, and deliberate. His lips linger against yours, his hand sliding up to cradle the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. It’s a different kind of intensity now, one that speaks to the connection you both share. When he finally pulls back, there’s a hint of amusement in his gaze.

“More than okay,” he whispers. “You were incredible.”

The tension that had been coiled inside you loosens at his words, and you feel yourself relax against the pillows. Max’s praise always has this effect on you, like it fills in the cracks and makes everything feel right again.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your lower lip as he studies your face. “Every second of it was perfect because it was with you.”

The weight of those words settles into your chest, grounding you in the reality of what you both share. It’s all an act — a scene you agreed upon. Max has always been careful, always made sure you were okay with everything. That’s how it works between you two. The intensity, the control, the power dynamic — it’s all part of the game, part of what you’ve both built together. But underneath it all is the love, the trust that binds you to him.

He presses another kiss to your lips, softer this time, a gesture of affection rather than dominance. When he pulls away, there’s a lightness in his expression, a warmth that makes the remnants of the scene melt away completely.

“I have something for you,” he says, standing up and walking toward the door. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

You watch as he exits the room, the anticipation building again, though this time it’s mixed with curiosity. Moments later, Max returns, pushing a small cart laden with trays of food. The smell hits you first — rich, savory, and mouthwatering. Your stomach growls in response, reminding you that you haven’t eaten in what feels like forever.

Max notices, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a satisfied smile. “I thought you might be hungry.”

You sit up slightly, propping yourself on your elbows as Max wheels the cart over to the side of the bed. He lifts the lids from the trays, revealing an array of delicacies — perfectly grilled meats, roasted vegetables, fresh fruit, and decadent desserts. It’s more than just a meal, it’s a feast.

“Let me,” Max says, reaching for a fork. He cuts a small piece of steak and holds it out to you, his eyes watching your every movement, waiting for you to take the first bite.

You hesitate for only a moment before leaning forward, letting him feed you. The flavors burst across your tongue, rich and savory, and you can’t help the small sound of appreciation that escapes your lips.

Max’s smile widens. “Good?”

You nod, swallowing before responding. “It’s amazing.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and there’s that familiar warmth in his voice again, the praise sinking into your skin like sunlight. He cuts another piece of food, feeding it to you before leaning in to kiss you between bites.

Each kiss is soft, slow, and filled with an affection that feels worlds away from the intensity of earlier. You sink into the moment, into the comfort of his presence, letting yourself be taken care of.

“You were so perfect for me,” Max whispers between kisses, his lips brushing against your cheek. “I couldn’t have asked for anything better.”

You smile softly, feeling the tension of the day melt away as you let him feed you, let him take care of you. There’s something intimate about the act, something grounding. It’s not just about the food — it’s about the connection, the way he looks at you with such devotion in his eyes.

Max takes his time, savoring the moment as much as you are. He alternates between feeding you and stealing kisses, each one a little longer, a little deeper than the last. His hands are gentle as they move over your skin, brushing your hair back, cupping your face, his touch always lingering just a little longer than necessary.

“You have no idea how proud I am of you,” he murmurs against your lips. “The way you trust me, the way you let go. It’s everything I could ever want.”

You close your eyes, leaning into him, the warmth of his words settling deep inside you. It’s always like this after a scene — the tenderness, the closeness. Max knows how to bring you back, how to make you feel safe and loved after everything.

“I couldn’t do it without you,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

Max pulls back just enough to look at you, his expression softening even more. “We do this together. That’s what makes it so special.”

There’s a weight to his words, a promise that echoes in the quiet of the room. You nod, knowing it’s true. You wouldn’t be able to do any of this without him — not the scenes, not the intensity, not the way you let yourself go completely when you’re with him.

Max leans in again, kissing you deeply this time, his hands cradling your face as if you’re the most precious thing in the world. When he finally pulls away, there’s a hunger in his eyes, but it’s not the same hunger from earlier. This one is softer, more intimate, and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“I love you,” he says again, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you too,” you reply, the words coming easily, naturally, because they’re the truest thing you know.

Max smiles, a slow, satisfied smile that makes your stomach flip. He reaches for one of the desserts on the tray — a small piece of chocolate cake — and holds it out to you. You take a bite, and before you can even swallow, Max is kissing you again, his lips tasting of chocolate and sweetness.

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against your lips, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss.

The rest of the evening passes in a blur of kisses and laughter, the food slowly disappearing from the trays as Max continues to feed you, praising you with every bite and every kiss. The intensity of earlier is long gone, replaced by something deeper, something that feels like home.

And as you lie there in his arms, sated and content, you know that no matter what happens, no matter how intense the scenes get, you’ll always have this — this quiet, tender intimacy that belongs to just the two of you.

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 14

Summary:

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

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

Warning:

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

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

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

“I want to go home,” Zahra said softly, Azalea slumbering safely between them. His mate, his wife… she was subtly golden glowing that morning, looking like the sun incarnate.

It was more obvious now…or maybe he just saw it more than he had before. Or maybe it was because Zahra was happy. Content. 

“Are you sure, sunshine?” He asked her softly, his thumb tracing her cheek. “There is no need to rush.” 

There wasn’t. 

He was willing to take all the time in the world right here in Rosehall with the two of them. And maybe a part of him…a part of him was hoping for some more time before the insanity of their family was going to descend on them. 

Azriel didn’t believe for one moment that that was over already. 

“I want her to come home to the cottage,” Zahra said softly. “Though we’ll need to figure out some way to…extend it maybe?“ 

They had talked about it before in passing, comments about adding an office… but now they would be adding a nursery. And maybe other rooms as well when they were already at it.

Azriel could feel the warmth of his mate’s body against his, their daughter sleeping peacefully between them. He was acutely aware of her golden glow, of her scent, of the press of her hand against his chest. The knowledge that this female, this beautiful, strong, incredible person, was bound to him for eternity was a heady joy. A light in the darkness.

He pressed a soft kiss to Zahra’s forehead, his wings curling around them again.

"Of course, Sunshine," he murmured against her skin. "We’ll return home."

Whatever she wanted. 

Her request was so simple, and yet he understood the importance of it entirely. The cottage was home, yes, but more importantly it was part of their story. Their story together. Their lives with their daughter. 

“Your sisters won’t be patient forever,” he  warned Zahra nontheless.

It wouldn’t be pretty. He knew that. She knew that too. 

Zahra looked at him, fierce green eyes meeting his.

“I don’t care,” she murmured, her gaze steady and unwavering. “I am not going to hide. I am not going to wait because they don’t like me or the choices I made. I don’t care, Azriel,” she told him flatly. 

Her fingers brushed against his cheek, her touch gentle yet firm. “Azalea is my priority. You are my priority. I’ll deal with my sisters if I must,” she told him, her voice soft yet filled wth conviction. 

Azriel had thought it was impossible to love her more than he already did, but with every look, every word, she proved him wrong.

He couldn't imagine a life without her, without their daughter. He couldn't imagine living without Zahra by his side.

He had found his mate, his love, his everything.

"We belong together," he whispered, his voice full of love and promise.

"Always."

His lips found hers, his hands gently cupping her face as he kissed her.

Her lips were warm and soft against his, and he could feel the love radiating from her.

He wanted to stay in this moment forever. With the beautiful woman he loved more than anything, their daughter nestled between them.

The rest of the world could wait.

All that mattered was this. This moment.

His fingers trailed over her face, tracing the curve of her lips, the line of her jaw.

She was his. And he was hers.

Nothing could ever take that away. Nothing could ever come between them.

Azriel would fight for her, and for their daughter, until the end of time.

She pulled back, resting her forehead against his. 

"Besides, I can't ignore them forever," Zahra said quietly.

Azriel chuckled softly against her lips, his hand moving to cup her face gently.

"You could try," he replied softly, a teasing edge to his voice.

He traced her lower lip with his thumb, his gaze locked on hers.

"You should be able to. They owe you at least all the time you want," he told her softly.

Zahra sighed.

"They don't owe me anything," she disagreed quietly.

Azriel frowned at that, his brows furrowing slightly.

He had hoped that she wouldn't say something like that.

He knew that she felt like she didn't deserve anything, that she wasn't owed anything. But it was so untrue.

She deserved everything.

"Zahra…" he began softly, but she cut him off before he could say anything else.

"Stop," she said firmly, her hands gripping his shirt tightly.

She was too gentle. Too kind.

But he knew he couldn't force her to see it the way he did.

He would do anything to protect her, their daughter. Even if it meant accepting her forgiveness of the people who had done her so wrong.

It didn't mean he had to like it though. 

He pressed another kiss to Zahra's lips, his hand moving to trace down her spine.

He wanted to protect her, to keep her close and shield her from all that was wrong in the world.

But he also knew that Zahra was strong, that she had the strength to make her own decisions.

Even if he didn't necessarily agree with them. 

"You're too damn forgiving," he murmured softly against her lips, his voice husky with emotion.

His hands curled around her body, pulling her close, his lips never leaving hers.

He held her tightly, his body enveloped her in a tight embrace.

“I am not,” Zahra disagreed. “But quite frankly, I would rather not spent my energy on them when I could spent it on Azalea.”

Azriel nodded in agreement, his body still wrapped around her.

He understood her reasoning. It was better to focus on what truly mattered. Their daughter.

"You're right," he murmured against her hair, his wings twitching in agreement. "She is our priority," he said, his voice firm. "Nothing else matters."

Not even his own anger at his family. All that mattered was his wife and daughter. 

He leaned back slightly to look at her, his hands running over her back in soft circles.

"I love you," he said softly.

It was a plain truth. Something he felt was worth repeating as often as possible. He knew she was aware of his love for her, but it would never hurt to remind her. 

Azalea let out a little noise then, her small hand fisting in Azriel's shirt.

Both of their gazes went to their daughter, their eyes filled with affection. She looked small and so innocent, wrapped up in their embrace.

"There you are, sweetheart," Azriel murmured, a soft smile on his lips.

He let his hand brush over their daughter's head, a feeling of warmth spreading through his chest.

"Just like her mother."

Zahra chuckled softly at the compliment, her eyes twinkling.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Shadowsinger," she teased, her voice low. She leaned in, pressing a kiss to Azriel's cheek. "You're lucky you're so good at it."

She winked at him slyly, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and he couldn’t help but laugh. 

There wasn’t much to pack up. The things Zahra had brought, the chest that houses the few pieces of clothing Esmeray had made for Azalea… Which prompted the shadows curling themselves around his wings, May we go shopping, Master?

Azriel paused at the question, his brows rising in surprise. He should have expected it. 

They were an extension of him. The desire to shop for their daughter was simply reflection of his own desire to spoil the little girl. Of course, the shadows would want to buy things for their daughter, he thought. It was quite natural for them to want to provide anything and everything to his child.

"They want to go shopping?" Zahra asked him with some amusement and he realised that they must have spoken loud enough for her to hear. He just shrugged. "Let them," she said easily. "And if you want to buy some furniture, be my guest."

He leaned down to press a kiss to Zahra's cheek, his hand coming up to her chin to tilt her face to him. "Thank you for understanding," he murmured softly.

"Maybe they'll find a crib for her," Zahra said drily. "I feel like a horrible mother already."

Azriel frowned at that, his brows knotting together. He didn't like her saying that.

She should never feel that way. Ever.

"You're not a horrible mother, sunshine," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "You're a wonderful mother. Our daughter is happy and healthy. That's what matters."

He reached up to cup her face, his thumb tracing over her cheek. "You're doing everything you can for her. And that's all anyone could ever ask for."

Zahra gave him a hesitant smile. "I never want her to feel as alone as I did," she said softly.

Azriel's expression softened at Zahra's words, his heart aching at the thought of her feeling so alone. He'd do everything in his power to make sure she never felt that way again.

"Of course not," he said, his voice soft and full of love. "Our daughter is never going to feel alone. She's going to be surrounded by so much love. From us, from our family. She's going to grow up knowing that she is loved. That we would fight to the ends of the world for her.” He pulled her closer in his arms, his wings wrapping around them. "I promise you," he whispered in her ear, his breath warm against her neck. "Our daughter will never feel the way you did. She will be safe and loved. We'll make sure of it. "

The sound of Azalea's soft whimper interrupted any further conversation between them.

"I think she wants something too," Azriel observed with a chuckle, looking at their daughter.

The little girl looked up at them with clear demand in her eyes, her tiny hands reaching out to them.

"Seems like she wants us to pay attention to her," Zahra said with a smile, her expression filled with adoration as she looked down at their daughter.

"Always so demanding, it seems," he quipped with a warm smile.

He reached down to pick up Azalea, holding her gently in his arms.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly.

They promised his mother that they would come to visit soon, and then it was simply a question of him wrapping his wife and daughter into his shadows and winnowing them home to their little cottage.

The world around them shifted and blurred, a surge of darkness and weightlessness as the shadows swirled around them.

And then they were there, standing in the middle of the living room in their cottage.

The shadows had been busy already, Azriel reflected drily. They must have started before even asking for permission. 

Zahra gave a shocked laugh, as she saw the bookcases lining one wall of the living room.

The cottage, which had once contained little more than the basics, was now filled with furniture and decorations. A new sofa, that somehow managed to compliment the horrible ugly armchair, and new curtains adorned the main room, along with several of Azalea's new toys and baby supplies.

"This is…a lot," Zahra muttered, looking around their home with wide eyes.

Azriel couldn't help a small, proud smile from forming on his lips. "Did you expect anything less?" he drawled, his voice laced with amusement.

He hadn’t. There was a touch of pride in his gaze at the sight of his mate and daughter in their home.

He shifted their daughter in his arms, the baby's weight a comforting presence against him.

"Are you complaining about how our daughter's needs are being met?" Azriel teased, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of Zahra's hair from her face.

Zahra huffed in response to Azriel's teasing, but there was a smile on her face. 

"Of course not," she said with feigned indignation. Zahra wrapped her arms around him and their daughter, her eyes twinkling with humor. "I'm simply astounded by your ability to spoil me and our daughter so thoroughly."

Azriel chuckled, pulling her closer to him, his wings enveloping them both.

"It's not spoiling if it's deserved," he replied, his voice low and husky as his lips brushed against her neck.

A proper bed was in the bedroom now, big enough for them to share, even if Azalea slept with them, which Azriel thought was quite likely.

Zahra stole Azalea who looked around wide eyed and showed her the kitchen her soft voice carrying through the room.

Azriel just watched.

He was filled with a sense of contentment as he watched them together, his chest filing with warmth

The sight of his wife and daughter exploring their new home…he couldn't imagine a life better than this, a family more perfect than what he had.

Rhys? he reached out carefully. We are home.

As Azriel reached out through their link, Rhys’ voice filtered into his mind.

You're home? Everything alright?

The concern in his voice was plain, his tone laced with worry, his surprise palpable.

Everything's fine, Azriel reassured him quickly, his answer swift. The last thing he wanted was for Rhys to be concerned or worried. We're alright. No need to panic. Zahra wanted to bring Azalea home.

Zahra wants to bring her home? Rhys echoed through their mental connection, bewilderment evident in his voice.

Yes, she wanted her home, Azriel affirmed, his voice calm and steady.

He could sense Rhys’ trepidation though, the question in his mind before he even asked it.

A question that they both knew the answer to.

I doubt we'll be able to keep her sisters away for much longer, Rhys warned him quietly.

Azriel's lips pressed into a thin line at Rhys's words, a wave of irritation rising in him.

He knew that. But that didn't meant that Azriel was a fan of it.

If they upset my wife or my daughter, I won't stand for it, he growled.

He knew Rhys could sense his anger through their mental connection, the protectiveness he felt for Zahra and Azalea.

For a moment it was quiet. Then...Your wife? Rhys demanded. Azriel?!

Azriel sighed, realizing that Rhys had picked up on his unintentional slip. He hadn't meant to reveal the truth just yet, but it seemed that he had inadvertently done just that.

Yes, my wife, he admitted softly.

You got married and didn't tell me?! Rhys's voice thundered across their minds in clear surprise and shock.

His reaction was predictable, but Azriel could hear the hint of offence in his voice.

You should shut up, we didn't know about you and feyre either, he shot back.

That's different, was Rhys's only response through the link, his voice almost whining.

Azriel rolled his eyes; Rhys was the High Lord of the Night Court, the most powerful being in their world, and yet he was sulking like a child.

We just wanted something small, just for us, Azriel answered with a mental shrug.

I probably shouldn't even be surprised, Rhys said with a sigh.

We didn't want Azalea to be a bastard, Azriel offered with some amusement.

Rhys’ sigh sounded through the link again before his brother replied through the mental connection.

So you are just being responsible. That’s a first, Rhys teased though his mind, Cassian will insist on throwing you a party, he warned. 

Azriel rolled his eyes again; he could already imagine the glee in Cassian's eyes when he found out.

His brother would be relentless.

Let him try, he shot back. He won't get past the shadows.

Rhys laughed aloud at that, the sound echoing through their mental connection.

You underestimate his determination. You know there will be a party, whether you like it or not, Rhys insisted, his tone laced with amusement.

***

Zahra looked around the cottage as she held their daughter in her arms, her eyes taking in the sight of the new furniture and decorations.

There was a new bed, a rocking chair, and toys and supplies for their baby all over the cottage.

“You really went all out,” she said aloud.

But she loved it. She loved all of it.

The cottage had been hers since she won it in that stupid card game...but now...now it was a proper home. Their home. Home for Zahra and her family, for her mate and her daughter. Nothing that she thought she would ever have.

Nothing that she would ever want to lose.

She watched as Azriel settled onto the horrible armchair, his large form taking up the space. He spread his wings out behind him, the sight of them making the space look even smaller. He patted his lap, a clear invitation.

She understood the silent gesture and moved over to him, taking a seat on his lap, their baby on her lap.

Azriel's arms encircled them both, holding them close as he wrapped his wings around them, enveloping them in his warmth.

He dropped a kiss on top of her head, his breathing slow and steady, his heartbeat calm and comforting.

She let her head rest against his chest as his hand moved to stroke Azalea's head. 

"I told Rhys about the wedding," he said softly.

Zahra chuckled at that, leaning her head back to look at him.

“How did he take it?” her eyes were filled with curiosity.

Azriel chuckled as well, his fingers gently stroking along her leg, his touch warm and comforting.

“As well as you could expect,” he replied, his voice filled with amusement. “He was shocked and offended that we didn’t tell him or invite him to the wedding. His ego may never recover.”

Zahra just snorted. "It was perfect," she disagreed. "Just us." Just the way she liked it.

The shadows swarmed around them at that, playing with her hair and Azalea squealed as she reached out for one swirling tendril. It held still for her, letting pudgy baby hands grip at it and wove through her fingers excitedly.

Azriel chuckled at the sight their daughter's interaction with his shadows.

"She likes them, huh?" Azriel observed, his voice filled with humour.

Zahra watched as Azalea's pudgy baby hands gripped at the tendril, her wide eyes watching it intently. She couldn’t help but giggle at the look of intense concentration on Azalea’s face. 

Another tendril unceremoniously dumped a velvet jewellery box on Zahra's lap at that moment. Like a silent We need to do everything around here!

Zahra's eyebrows rose as the box appeared in her lap, her gaze moving from the box to Azriel.

"And what is this?" she asked, the corner of her lips twitching as she tried not to laugh.

"Open it and find out," Azriel said drily.

Zahra chuckled and rolled her eyes, but her fingers lifted the lid off the box anyway.

She couldn't help her curiosity. As she looked inside, her eyebrows lifted again. "Oh," she breathed, her eyes widening as she took in the contents.

Two matching gold wedding bands laid there in the velvet. Simple. Unassuming.

She had never loved any piece of jewellery more, as she lifted the bigger one to slide it over Azriel's ring finger.

Azriel watched silently as she put the ring on his finger, his expression tender and soft.

And as she moved to put her own ring on, his hand stopped her.

"No," he said firmly, his voice low and demanding. She looked at him, surprised by his denial. "Why?" she protested, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Azriel gave her a sly smile as he took the smaller ring from her hands, his fingers gently caressing her skin.

"Because that’s my job,” he said simply.

Zahra's breath caught in her throat at his words, the intensity in his voice making her heart race. She swallowed, her eyes darting between the ring and his face. "Is that so?" she replied, the words coming out huskier than she’d intended.

Azriel's lips curled into a smirk as he heard the change in her voice. His grip on her hand tightened as he brought her fingers up to his lips, his eyes darkened further as he kissed them softly.

He took the ring then in his free hand, holding it between them. "It is," he answered firmly. "I am your husband."

Her lips parted in surprise at his demand, a flutter of anticipation in her chest. Azriel's eyes remained focused on hers, his gaze burning with a possessiveness that should have scared her.

Instead, all it did was make her want him more.

Her mind went blank as he gently picked up her ring finger and, with a single fluid movement, eased the gold wedding band over it.

Zahra’s heart skipped a beat when he slid the ring onto her finger, his touch lingering on her hand for a moment longer than necessary.

He held up her hand and turned it gently, studying the ring on her finger with an expression of satisfaction.

"It looks good on you," he said, his voice low and rough. His gaze flicked up to hers, his eyes almost glittering.

Azalea took that moment to yawn. Zahra couldn’t help but coo slightly. Azalea's little yawn caught Azriel's attention, and his gaze immediately moved to the baby in her lap. His lips curled into a soft smile at the sight of her.

"Someone's sleepy," he said, his voice filled with affection.

He reached out his hand to run it over her soft hair, watching as the baby's eyes fluttered closed.

“Let’s lay her down for a nap and I’ll tell Violet that we are back home,” Zahra said softly. And probably ask her for…well. They needed to figure out the childcare situation after all. No more 10 hours days hunched over her kitchen table..but then she had made quite the dent in the accounts of a few decades already. 

Azriel nodded, his eyes still fixed on their sleeping daughter.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," he agreed, his voice soft. "I'll take her."

He stood up, carefully picking up Azalea in his arms. The baby shifted slightly, but then settled back into a deep, peaceful sleep against his chest.

Zahra had not expected for Violet to show up at her front door 3 hours later, out of breath and shoving a gift bag into Zahra’s arms. “The next time you get a baby, I need a forewarning!” Violet declared. Zahra couldn’t help laughing heartily, her eyes glittering in amusement.

Violet’s declaration and the breathlessness in her voice were priceless. She took the gift from her friend’s hands. “You want to meet her?” Zahra teased, her voice filled with affection.

Violet, still huffing and catching her breath, gave her a mock glare. "You really are not funny," she said in an irritated tone.

But despite her irritation, there was a small hint of a smile on her lips. Zahra could see the affection in her eyes.

“Of course I do!” Violet said brightly.

Zahra opened the door wide.

As Violet entered the cottage, her eyes immediately went to Azalea and Azriel, who were sitting on the floor, engrossed in their game.

She watched as Azriel carefully played with their daughter, his big hands surprisingly gentle and tender.

The sight was nothing less than heart melting.

“Oh, she’s adorable,” Violet cooed. Zahra chuckled, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement.

She had never expected her friend to swoon like an enamored girl.

“She is, isn’t she?” Zahra agreed with a smile, her heart swelling with maternal pride.

Violet moved further into the room, her eyes still fixed on Azalea as she stepped closer to them.

Zahra watched as the baby giggled happily, her tiny hand reaching out to grab Azriel's fingers.

Zahra could see the tender look in Azriel's eyes as he played with their daughter, his expression filled with love and adoration. And then Azalea spied Violet and started at her wide eyed, dark eyes fixed on the purple wings sprouting from Violet’s back.

She stared at them intently, her expression filled with fascination and awe.

Azriel chuckled at his daughter's reaction, his hand gently stroking her head.

"Seems like she’s quite interested in your wings," he commented, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

He watched as Azalea reached out a small hand toward Violet, her tiny fingers grasping for the shimmering wings.

Violet couldn't help but smile at the baby's interest.

She bent down slightly, bringing her wings closer to Azalea, giving her a better view.

Zahra chuckled at the scene before her.

"Yeah, she’s like a moth drawn to a flame," she joked.

Azalea’s small hand grabbed onto Violet’s wing, her grasp surprisingly firm for such a small baby.

She tugged at the wing gently, clearly curious about the strange appendage.

Violet winced slightly at the unexpected grip but laughed, not seeming bothered by it.

Azriel shook his head, amused by the scene unfolding before him.

"Careful, she's surprisingly strong for being so small," he warned, a fond smile on his face.

Violet just laughed. “Gods, she’s adorable,” she gushes. “Yes, you are!” She cooed at Azalea.

Azalea beamed at the attention, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her tiny hand released its grip on Violet's wing and she clapped her hands together, as if applauding the compliment.

Zahra chuckled at her daughter's reaction. "She likes you," she observed.

“Clearly,” Violet agreed, her smile growing wider. “She has impeccable taste.” 

She reached out a finger, gently tickling Azalea's stomach, prompting the baby to giggle and squirm.

Zahra watched the exchange between her baby and her best friend, her heart swelling with happiness.

"I think she has a talent for endearing herself to everyone," Azriel added, his voice filled with pride.

He watched as Violet continued to interact with their daughter, her hand moving from Azalea's stomach to her tiny hands, which clutched at Violet's finger.

"Must get that from her mother," Violet teased, giving Zahra a playful wink.

Zahra snorted in response, rolling her eyes but unable to contain the smile on her face.

"Oh, please. I don’t see you being immune to her either," she shot back.

Violet laughed out loud at that, admitting defeat with a shrug. "Touché. Your baby’s too cute for her own good."

She turned her attention back to Azalea, her eyes sparkling with playfulness.

Azalea responded gleefully to the attention, her wide eyes fixed on Violet, her attention unwavering as if she couldn’t get enough of her. She cooed and babbled, her hands continuing to grasp at Violet’s finger.

Azriel chuckled at the interaction, enjoying the way his daughter was so enthralled by his mate's friend.

He exchanged a glance with Zahra, his smile mirroring hers.

Zahra couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment. Seeing her daughter enjoying herself and being showered by adoration was a sight she could get used to.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hiii! I was wondering if I could have a Emperor Caracalla x reader where because of his disease he doesn't recognise her for a moment when they're about to make love and she has to calm him down

I am here and no one else

Emperor Caracalla x wife!reader

warning : hurt/comfort, kissing, choking and using knife, cuddling, crying

Summary : They had been together many times, they saw and felt each other. It reassured her that he was aware of her, that Caracalla was not lost in madness, but on the night of the full moon when they were in bed together, madness crept into his mind and next to him was no longer the woman he loved and had married.

info : Thank you very much for the request dear anon it is a pleasure to get another request for Caracalla, enjoy reading :)

masterlist

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His blue eyes had been so clear a few years ago, when the sun was above them and the people had cheered them both and his smile was sincere and honest.

The wedding of the emperor Caracalla and his wife the sun roms was cheered and no shadow had settled over the imperial family, it was a dream, a beautiful dream that seemed so far away when she looked at her beloved husband now.

His eyes clouded with madness, bloodied when he saw the battles in the colloseum and his temper erratic, she loved him, loved him through it all but with each passing day she feared for him, for his brother and herself. Because if madness prevailed, Caracalla himself would not stop at her and Geta, they were sure of that.

The whole day, however, he seemed like a miracle, but clear from breakfast he remembered what appointments were coming up today, ,,The ring is especially flattering to my sun” he had wooed her at noon on the way to the Senate.

Even in that he not only supported his brother but also ignored the lies of the senators, he seemed to clearly recognize what Geta was pursuing and stood up for his values. It was moments that brought tears to her eyes as she seemed to wander back into the past dream.

A ring he had bought her, it was small things, but it was these small moments that gave her and Geta hope that things would get better, even in the coliseum Caracalla remained relatively calm.

,,The credit goes to the victor!” he extended a rare moment of grace when even Geta would have decided otherwise and she saw in the older man's gaze that he was proud of his brother.

The day had been blessed by the gods it seemed from the moment the sun rose until now but such protection can be deceiving.

After dinner the three of them planned to keep to themselves, but keeping to themselves ended in togetherness for Caracala and her.

Kisses exchanged in the hallway, hands holding each other and clothes removed, ,,Such beauty,” he said, searching her lips a second time as they both changed from their tunics into those for the night.

Naked skin disappeared under silken fabric, gazes resting on each other, bright eyes looking at their bodies and seeing only pure beauty, ,,You are so beautiful,” he heard a giggle as she turned in her clothes and came towards him in another kiss that led them to the bed.

Soft fur and pillows caught her and she ran them through blonde curls, she loved him, loved his art, his laugh and giggle, his pretty eyes and golden curls, ,,You're more beautiful” she murmured and tapped the tip of his nose as they both let go of each other for a moment.

Reaching to the side table next to the table wine had been provided and grapes he held the goblet out to her and she placed the grape to his lips, it was a quiet moment, a moment between adults, a moment that was not possible in his madness, ,,Your flattery is both amusing and sweetening” he said eating the grape and savoring the sweetness on his tongue.

She put the goblet aside after a sip and ran her hands over his pale torso, the small scars and inconsistencies of his illness were not ugly to her.

She smiled at his words, circling his skin as he leaned over her, his lips searching her face, but in the darkened room where the torches provided light, his eyes saw the wine on her lips.

Dark...dark red...blood red.

A color that made him pause kisses that he continued to return but his fingers that touched her, from her neck where he heard her pulse to her soft breast became more and more strange.

Stranger and stranger with each blink her appearance became more distant, with each kiss she smelled and tasted less like his wife and he caught the scent of her blood.

Blood like at a birth, blood that no longer threatened to flow through him and blood of a madness that he had to stop in her, ,,You-you're not her!” he cried out, interrupting the kiss and his fingers wrapped around her neck, fingernails clawing into her skin and her eyes opened in shock.

Air that was drastically and quickly no longer inflicted on her his name came broken from her lips, her hands clutching at his wrist trying to gently reassure him at first.

,,It's me...it's your wife” she rattled fluttering eyes trying to find his gaze, to find her husband. Instead, he only squeezed harder, seeming neither to hear nor recognize her...and in that moment she realized that her nightmare that his madness would kill her had come true.

Her legs kicked, trying to throw him off her, but there was a power in him that she didn't know he had, a power that made her slowly see black spots.

Fear and adrenaline flowed through her body, ,,Cara-Caracalla” she gasped trying unsuccessfully to calm him, she looked around the flash of the knife caught her eye, tears ran down her eyes as he pushed her harder into the pillows the giggles were replaced by screams as she cut his arm with the knife.

Her fingers just managed to grab it, she would never have wanted to hurt him but if blood was what made him run away, maybe it was blood that brought him back.

His scream continued to echo through the chamber as he held his arm away from her as if he had been burned and she took a deep coughing breath, tears streaming from her eyes.

Caracalla rolled off the bed screaming and crying as he hit the floor and pressed himself against the wall as his gaze lifted and he began to scream again, ,,I'm sorry-I'm sorry-I'm sorry...what have I done!” he said over and over again as the sticky blood ran down his arm, staining it and he realized when he saw the desaturated state she was in.

Coughing and struggling to get air back into her lungs, she slowly got up from the bed, swaying, her voice failing as she tried to speak and coughing a gesture that only made him cry more.

She came slowly towards him, he pushed himself further away from her, ,,Stupid, a monster...a delusional one" he reproached himself as his face settled in his hands and she hugged him, holding him trembling as she slowly began to breathe regularly again, stroking his head.

She shook her head and took a piece of her robe to wipe the blood off his arm, ,,Not-it's not your fault. I'm alive you see I'm alive my king” she replied and clasped his hands, forcing him to look at her as she kissed his hands and looked at his reddish neck and saw his face, his hideous work.

Before he could cry again, she pressed him to her, kissed his forehead and his fingers clutched at her body, ,,You're still alive?” he asked the question so obviously that she laughed and nodded, ,,Yes! Yes, it's me here,” she said, putting his hand on her chest, his hand feeling her heartbeat, and he breathed shakily.

His smile just as pleased as hers as he engaged her in a kiss, holding onto her and the other way around as the two of them sat there on the floor bloody kissing, reassuring each other that they were still alive.

As he held her hand he told her, ,,Never again...I will never lose control like this again” he promised her, tapping the tip of her nose as she had gestured as the imperial couple remained sitting there holding and loving each other.

That despite the strangulation marks on her body and the blood on his, they loved each other no less than before and no madness would change such love and care.

They were bound by blood and love and they would be until the end of madness if they loved each other forever.

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