#Imagines

[kay-jay-self-shipping]

Oh I ADORE all my OCs, sometimes I enjoy writing them more than I enjoy writing my F/Os because I know EXACTLY how they act and react in certain scenarios.

For example, if I had to choose an OC I adore most, it'd be Kaede, she's the first one to come to mind when I think of my OCs, and for good reason. She's on the verge of insanity from a hard life, she's stuck between good and evil due to bad choices she's made, she's a sarcastic little b*tch who decided to annoy Orochimaru of all people, and she's willing to do what must be done to keep herself safe.

She is the definition of Chaotic Evil, or Lawful Evil (depending on the timeline of her story.) And I LOVE her for it!

If anyone wants me to keep ranting, I will, I haven't had anyone new to rant about my characters with in a long time, so this is my time to info dump to my heart's content!

Here are some pics of her and Orochimaru too!

if you make an OC that you are genuinely insane over, like you are obsessed with this freak and can't stop thinking about them, then it will rub off on other people. the virus spreads

[cybrasigilism]

Say It Right (Player 124/Nam-gyu X F! Reader DRABBLE)

warning: smut | not proofread | lowercase intended | nam-gyu is a dick | PiV (wrap it before you freak it) | oral (m! receiving) | degradation | this is my interpretation of this character, please be respectful even if my opinions on the character differ from your own

character: nam-gyu (player 124)

synopsis: you call nam-gyu “nam-su” because the reaction he gives thanos when he does it cracks you up— he reacts very differently when you do it however

A/N: i don’t know if anyone’s written something like this yet but i thought it would be interesting 🤔 apologies if it’s sloppy ��✌️ “you can’t keep writing bathroom sex scenes in the games” pry this from my cold dead hands

SORRY ITS SO SHORT UGH I JUST NEEDED TO GET THIS ONE OUT

MDNI! 18+ content beneath the cut, reader’s discretion is advised

had you known that repeatedly teasing nam-gyu by saying his name wrong would result in you on your knees for him, mouth around his cock as he grasped your hair like a lifeline— yeah, you would have done this way sooner. you knew you should have been ashamed at the sounds you made when his dick hit the back of your throat, but you weren’t.

he wasn’t so silent himself. while he tried to mask his own noises as he fucked your face, you could still hear him grunt with what sounded like pleasure whenever you gagged on him.

“fuck, at least that pathetic little mouth of yours can do something right.” you squirmed with how he talked down to you. he spoke to you like he thought so little of you, yet the sounds you were drawing from him proved otherwise.

—-

when he eventually decided to fuck you, he did it like it wasn’t for any other reason than to prove a point. he had you bent over, slamming into you relentlessly. the frustration and annoyance at you calling him “nam-su” all those times fuelling his need to put you in your place here.

and now.

you cried out at every collision, eyes watering with just how rough he was handling you now. the mix of pleasure and pain was almost too much for you to handle, the way nam-gyu was gripping onto you wouldn’t have been bearable if you didn’t feel so good.

as you started to really get into it, arching your back as he fucked you stupid, nam-gyu took ahold of your hair once again and pulled you back, just about close enough to talk directly into your ear.

“you still feeling like a smart ass?” he spat through poorly-concealed moans, “or did you remember what my name is?”

“n—nam-gyu!” you sputtered through your own whimpers, tears rolling down your cheeks from the intensity of the fuck. “oh so the slut does know what’s right…” he pulled back on your hair a bit harder, drawing even sluttier moans out of your throat. “say it again, and say it right— bitch.”

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thanks for reading!

as always, any advice/constructive criticism on how to improve my writing is appreciated and requested! have a fantastic night/day lovelies 💋

tags: @kouzih @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @gabbystinks

[starconstruction]

“U’ll pull out right?” ovulating Lip vs “I’m going to put twins in this pussy” m!reader—no protection, no contraceptives, just womb-fulling knocking up. Ovulation got her needy and reader takes full advantage

Hungry.

Kim Lip x Male Reader {Smut}

Wc:2314

hope you like this ask, always a huge fan of the loona ones. let me know what you think, if u have any more im happy to hear them.

smut tags; fsub, fingering, multiple orgasms, face fucking, ass eating, creampies, breeding/impregnation, unprotected sex, ovulating, anal, minor references to an assjob and some feet kissing, dirty talk, references to other loona members.

not proofread.

It was a fantastically average day for you, time to relax as you sat on your computer. The hours slipped away as you watched whatever you were recommended, you played a new game, one where you fought your way out of hell against your dad. You sat in the comfortable chair, reclined against the carpet floor. You shared this apartment with a roommate, a strange girl called Jungeun. She kept to herself for the most time, but she seemed nice.

The growl of your stomach reminded you of your hunger, having ate very little all day. Normally you ate with your roommate, since it saved money. You withdrew yourself from your domain, walking towards Jungeun's room. The door was slightly ajar, you put your eye into the room, your breath hitched as you gasped. Frozen in place.

Jungeun's clothes laid open, bare skin visible as her well endowed breasts were free. Your eyes trailed further down, admiring her body. Her fingers were jackhammering her puffy pussy, her wetness evident as it coated her fingers and bed sheets. Her skirt and panties were hanging on her foot as she brought her self to heaven. You were about to leave, guilt swallowing you as you watched Jungeun. "W-Wait!" She said, voice broken as her fingers withdrew.

You turned around, she looked dishevelled. Her brown hair clung to any service it could find, face flushed a beet red as her eyes were wet and glossy. "Come in, please." she pleaded as you came closer. The scent of sweat and arousal filled your nose, air claggy and hot. "Wow, Jungeun you look awful." You said, not entirely sure how to proceed.

Jungeun looked at you with big, begging eyes. As if trying to say something but the words were being lost, her hands twisted together. "What do you want Jungeun? I don't have all day." You teased, getting close to her ear as she shuddered. "Y/N, please. Help me." Her voice was weak, desperation leaking from her mouth as her arousal leaked into the bedding.

"Help with what? Use your words if you want help baby." you trailed her chest, dragging your finger down as she whimpered. Your fingers stopped mere inches from her needy crotch, her heat radiated and tickled your fingers.

"Fuck.. I am ovulating and I've been so needy!" She shouted, a gentle whine spilling out. Your fingers gently touched her folds, staying still as her hips moved involuntarily. "Please, Y/N, fuck me!" your mind went to places full of darkness. She was willing to do anything you wanted. You beamed with ideas, showing some restraint as your fingers found her clit. Tracing soft circles as she coated your hand with wetness, her folds were sopping as you traced her cunt up and down.

Jungeun's spare hand found solace in your neck, pulling you down to her lips. You two shared saliva as Jungeun aggressively made out with you. Her kisses were full of passion with a needy desperation underlying, her teeth sunk into your bottom lip. Eliciting a gasp out of you as she sucked on your tongue.

Your hand didn't remain idle, trailing down as your fingers prodded around. Her hole welcomed them as it greedily took your digits, delightfully squeezing around the pads of your fingers. You sped up your fingers, hammering aggressively as a wet squelching noise filled the air. Jungeun moaned into your mouth, her breath was warm with a taste of cigarettes, cut through by her strawberry lip gloss.

You pulled away from her lips, a string of saliva falling onto the ground. "You gonna cum?! Cum like a desperate whore for me?" You barked, your thumb rubbing her clit as you went in and out of her.

"Yes, yes god! I'm so close!" Jungeun screamed, unraveling under you as she got brought to the first orgasm of the night, her body shot out clear liquid as your fingers were forced out. The effects of her ovulation obvious, legs shaking vigorously as she wound down.

"Good girl, that's it." She looked divine as her chest heaved, desperate for oxygen as you licked your fingers clean, tasting her arousal. You hoped this wasn't going to be a one time thing. "Thank you, Y/N." She said, a face of contempt as she basked in pleasure. "Is that it? I think you need more than that, wouldn't you agree?" You took a shot in the dark as your hand rubbed her thigh.

Jungeun sat and thought about it, before nodding. "Fuck me, make me yours." you smiled, but you had an idea. "I'm not sure, I mean.. You could show me how much you want this." Her eyes looked up at you in confusion. Your hands ripped the rest of her clothes off. "You have such beautiful lips, they'd look so pretty against my dick, wouldn't you agree?" She got on her knees, her hands worked quickly as they pulled the zipper, your veiled hardness made contact with her lips as your trousers dropped to the ground. Pooling comfortably around your feet. Jungeun's impatience got to her, adding your boxers to the pool.

Jungeun's lips felt like a slutty flesh-light, inch by inch taken in her sinful mouth, you let out a strong guttural moan as you entered her damp cavern. Her tongue massaged your length, prodding your flesh as she hummed. "That's a good girl... Fuck." You purred.

You grew bored of the slow pace, taking control. Hands reaching to the back of her head as you angled her head, your cock thrusted into Jungeun's throat, her eyes widening in surprise as she gagged on your spit covered cock. Your repeated thrusts made her tear up slightly, nose tapping against your crotch as she breathed in all of you. Her tongue took a back seat as she was used as a hole. "What a good flesh-light, fuck Jungeun your throat is so good." You let out, speeding up your thrusts as her hands desperately found solace on the back of your legs.

Jungeun's throat brought you to heaven, she was so needy for your cock. You were so close to your orgasm. You growled as you forced your cum into her throat, Jungeun gagged violently as ropes of semen was shot into her stomach.

You rescinded your length, "Good girl." You said, rubbing your softening cock all over her face. Leaving a thin trail of saliva. "Get me hard again, use whatever part of your slutty body you want." Jungeun beamed "Yes sir." She picked herself up "Lay down, let me service you." You compiled, laying on her soaked bedsheets. Jungeun turned away. "You like my ass? Wanna feel my cheeks around that thick cock?" she asked.

"Fuck yes Jungeun. Smother me." Her asscheeks were wet with sweat as your semi hard shaft laid in the centre, smothered as she compressed you. Lifting up and down, soft and supple flesh made quick work of your limp cock. Now fully erect as it peaked out of Jungeun's ass. You sat there for a few minutes before stopping her.

"How desperate are you slut? You'd let me do anything if it got you to cum, is that right?" Jungeun paused before nodding. "Bring that ass over here then, I want a taste." She got closer, shaking her ass as she backed up "Yes sir, do whatever you want. I'm yours." She completely submitted as you smiled.

Jungeun's ass was damp with a mix of sweat from the heat of the room, alongside her saliva, her hole was inviting as your tongue got made familiar. You moaned against her ass, breathing in the musk as you tasted her. You were hooked as you kept eating her out. Your tongue probed her flesh, "Yes! Eat me, eat my ass!" She screamed, "Your tongue is so good, I need this." You withdrew for a second. "You slut! I bet you were thinking of me when you were creaming yourself on your fingers!" You yelled, slapping her ass as she screamed.

"Yes! I was thinking of your cock, how good it''d feel in me, you are going to give me it? Right sir?" She begged, shaking her ass towards you. "Yes, you are going to take my cock. Every inch." You gave her asshole some frantic kisses as she gasped, her wetness soaked your chest. Leaving a puddle of her neediness on you. "Wow, you are soaking on me, what a whore." You teased, "Clean it up." you continued.

Jungeun turned around, her tongue licking every ounce of her arousal, a common whore who'd anything for you. "Jungeun, lay down." You said. Swapping places as her head laid pressed against pillows, body laid disorderly. You stopped in front of her cunt, cock a mere inch from penetrating her needy core. "You'll pull out right?" She asked, you thought about it. "If that's what you want. But I have a feeling you'll be begging for me." Before she could react, you pushed in. Jungeun's cunt gave little resistance to your cock. You arms pressed into the bedding, your faces mere inches as you pounded into her violently.

Her cunt gripped you, desperate for it to never leave. It squeezed with a pressure that desperately tried to milk you for all it's worth. "Fuck! Your dick is so so deep!" She screamed, the bed shook under each thrust. "You are so tight, your whore cunt wants nothing more than my dick? Right?!" you teased, "Yes! Fuck my slutty pussy! It wants nothing but you!" Jungeun's hands clawed at your back, pressing your lips together as you made out. Your legs sped up as you stuffed her sopping cunt with your dick, you slammed against the deepest parts of her walls. Her feet lodged itself against your back, joining the scratches of her arms.

"Are you sure you don't want my cum? Filling this up as I impregnate this hole, that's what you want right slut?" You taunted, delivering impactful thrusts as the skin slapped. Her cunt turning red with every slam, "Yes! I do! Fill me up, give me your kids!" She responded, happy receiving your thrusts as she screamed loud noises of pleasure.

"Good, because I'm going to put twins in this pussy." The heat of the room became unbearable as you became lightheaded. Your tongue licked Jungeun's face, revelling in her horniness. "I'm close! Cum with me slut, take my load right in your womb! Fuck!" You spilled into her needy cunt as she tightened suddenly. Engaging her own orgasm as she was knocked up.

Your cock withdrew from her, pearlescent cum leaked from her cunt. Dripping slowly out her used hole, a shared sigh of relief leaving your mouths. You didn't want this to end yet, wanting to claim every part of this trophy. Finger rubbing against her saliva-drenched backdoor, pressing an inch in as she looked at you in shock.

"Sir~" she begun to speak, but you shushed her "You can go another round right? Give me your ass?" You smiled, kissing her foot as you engaged your finger in and out. "fuck my ass sir, do whatever you want to my body." You smiled as she gave in. "Good girl, but I want more from you." You said, leaving the room temporarily. You came back with a small bottle of glossy liquid, her face confused as you chucked it into her chest. "Put on a show, get yourself ready for my cock. My slut." She compiled, giving herself ample room as lube coated her fingers, some semen leaked into her asshole. Her fingers pressing it in, they moved with practiced expertise, starting with two as they prepped her asshole for a good dick.

" You've done this before? Haven't you? Fucking your ass like a hungry slut." Her fingers sped up as she added a third one. "Yes! I've done this before, I love things up my ass." Her voice was breathy and broken, "Once I got Yeojin to join me at an anal gangbang, felt it for weeks." She continued, you grew bored of waiting. Hand stroking your cock vigorously, "Tell me more about you and your friends." You asked, the joint masturbation moans filled the room. "Oh fuck, one time Hyeju and I fucked some random guy in a bathroom. She was so horny she ate his ass, it was so hot." She let out, the horniness clouding Jungeun's better judgment. Secrets spilled from her mouth "Gowon always wanted to try BDSM, so she let me dominate her, she's so submissive." You deemed it time.

"Be a good slut and lube me up." You commanded, her hand rubbed a thick slather of lube across your length. "Thank you, good girl."

Your dick pressed against her ass as it sunk in, "Dont be gentle just fuck me!" She demanded, you complied. Stretching her backdoor as you violently fucked her tight ass, "God you are so tight! I bet you are happy you stopped me!" her backdoor squeezed the life out of you, no time to waste as you wanted every inch of her body. Licking her suspended foot, cleaning them off as you pounded into her like an animal.

"YOU FEEL SO GOOD IN ME, KEEP GOING!" Jungeun screamed at the top of her lung as you violated her hole. You knew your orgasm was close, your cock withdrew from her backdoor as you shoved it in her grooling cunt. Launching a wave of semen in her, Jungeun cunt was saturated in your load. Full with your future children as it entered her womb.

You withdrew, watching as more leaked out. "Good girl, I hope you feel satisfied slut. You should introduce me to that Yeojin."

"Maybe I should, I think she'd love you."

You two showered together, spending the rest of the night with your cock firmly planted in her cunt.

[billionairebratenergy]

Wearing His Sins

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes never thought he'd crave seeing someone wrapped in something that once felt like a second skin of war—but when it’s her, his past and present collide in the most dangerous, intoxicating way.

Continue reading below ⬇

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The first time it happens, it’s an accident.

Y/N doesn’t even think about it when she tugs Bucky’s leather jacket off the back of the chair, slipping it over her shoulders. It’s late, a crisp autumn chill seeping into their apartment, and her sweater isn’t doing enough to keep it out. He’d left it there after coming back from a mission, the scent of wind, leather, and something distinctly him still clinging to the fabric.

She only means to wear it until she gets to the bedroom. Maybe steal a second of warmth. That’s all.

But then Bucky walks in.

The door swings shut behind him with a soft thud, his steel-blue eyes locking onto her immediately. Something shifts in his expression—sharpens. His grip tightens around the edge of the doorway, tension coiling through his body like a live wire.

“Doll,” his voice is low, rough, like he’s barely hanging onto his self-control, “the hell are you tryin’ to do to me?”

Y/N tilts her head, fingers playing with the worn leather. “Stay warm?”

Bucky exhales through his nose, but the way his jaw flexes, the way his gaze drags down her body like he’s memorizing the sight, tells her she’s done something else entirely.

And oh. Oh.

She doesn’t miss the way his hands curl into fists at his sides, the way he shifts his weight like he’s fighting the urge to step closer.

“You’re wearin’ my jacket,” he mutters, half to himself, half to her.

“Yeah?” Y/N lifts a brow. “You left it out.”

Bucky takes a slow, deliberate step forward. His flesh hand reaches out, fingertips grazing the hem of the jacket, tracing the seams with a quiet reverence. It’s old—older than their relationship, maybe—and lived-in, like a ghost of the life he’s left behind.

But there’s something about seeing her in it that has his brain short-circuiting.

“You should keep it,” he says suddenly, voice hoarse. “Wear it whenever you want.”

She laughs, rolling her eyes. “That would make it mine, not yours.”

He hums, stepping even closer, until she can feel the heat radiating from him, the sharp contrast of his vibranium fingers as they slip under the lapel of the jacket. His touch burns through the layers of fabric, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Maybe that’s the point,” he murmurs.

His gaze darkens, and Y/N swears she can feel the weight of it pressing against her skin. He lifts his hand, brushing the backs of his knuckles down her jaw, slow and deliberate.

“Bucky,” she breathes.

And then he’s kissing her.

It’s not gentle. It’s raw, consuming, the kind of kiss that steals the air from her lungs. His fingers tangle in the lapels of the jacket, pulling her closer, as if the leather between them is the only thing keeping him tethered.

Y/N barely registers the way he backs her against the wall, the cool surface pressing against her spine. His metal hand grips her waist, firm and unyielding, while his other slides up, fingertips brushing the bare skin beneath the oversized jacket.

“You got no idea what this does to me, doll,” Bucky mutters against her lips, pressing his forehead to hers.

She swallows, dazed. “Wearing your jacket?”

His grip tightens. “Wearin’ my name. My past. Lettin’ me mark you without even tryin’.”

Something deep in her chest tightens at his words. He’s never needed to brand her with scars or ink—she wears him in the way she says his name, in the way she holds him after nightmares, in the way she slips his jacket on like it belongs to her as much as he does.

And god, he loves it.

“Keep it,” he says again, more desperate this time. “Please.”

Y/N smiles, threading her fingers through his hair, grounding him. “Only if you promise to steal it back sometimes.”

Bucky chuckles, the sound rough and fond. “Oh, doll, I’m countin’ on it.”

And when he kisses her again, slow and deep, it tastes like something more than just leather and longing. It tastes like home.

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She starts wearing it more often. Not intentionally at first—sometimes she just grabs it on her way out, the familiar weight of it draped over her shoulders like a second skin. Other times, it’s because Bucky leaves it on the couch, on the bed, anywhere he knows she’ll reach for it.

She starts to notice the way his eyes darken whenever she wears it. The way he watches her, gaze heavy and unreadable, as if seeing her in his jacket does something visceral to him.

One evening, she walks into the kitchen wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and the leather jacket, and Bucky nearly drops the glass in his hand.

“Jesus Christ, doll,” he rasps, setting it down before he shatters it.

Y/N grins. “You okay there, soldier?”

His jaw flexes. His fingers twitch at his sides, like he’s fighting the urge to grab her and haul her into his arms.

“You’re tryin’ to kill me,” he mutters.

She laughs, stepping closer, running her hands over the worn leather. “It’s just a jacket, Bucky.”

His eyes flicker with something dark, something hungry. “Not on you, it ain’t.”

And then he’s crowding her against the counter, hands gripping her hips, voice rough and aching.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the hinge of her jaw. “You wear this, and I forget how to think. Forget how to breathe.”

Her breath stutters. “Why?”

Bucky exhales, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “Because it’s mine. Because you’re mine.”

She swallows. There’s something unspoken in his words, something deeper than just possession.

Bucky doesn’t just see a jacket when she wears it. He sees a history he never thought he could claim. A past that still weighs on his shoulders, a piece of himself he thought he’d left behind. And now, she’s wrapped in it—wrapped in him.

It undoes him.

And when she tugs him down for another kiss, slow and deep, she thinks she finally understands.

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One night, after a particularly brutal mission, Bucky comes home exhausted. His knuckles are bruised, his body stiff with tension. He doesn’t say much—just collapses onto the couch, head tilted back, eyes closed.

Y/N doesn’t ask. She knows him well enough to give him space, but not too much.

So she grabs his leather jacket from the hook by the door and slips it on before settling beside him.

He doesn’t react at first. But then his fingers twitch, his breathing slows, and he opens his eyes.

And when he sees her—sees his past and present draped over her like a shield—his shoulders finally relax.

He doesn’t say anything. Just reaches for her, pulling her into his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of her head.

And that night, when he finally sleeps—dreams untainted by ghosts and nightmares—Y/N thinks that maybe, just maybe, she’s found another way to keep him safe.

To keep him home.

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Bucky doesn’t even leave it out anymore.

Instead, he places it on the bed before she can reach for it. Slips it over her shoulders himself. Zips it up with careful fingers.

And when she asks him why, he just smiles—soft, reverent.

“Because, doll,” he murmurs, brushing his lips over hers, “you wear it better than I ever did.”

⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒─⭑⚝──⭒

[pixel-comfort]

Your F/O who prefers solitude? The one who’s always kept their distance, who insists they don’t need anyone? Yeah, they want you.

They want to sit beside you in comfortable silence, just enjoying your presence.

They want to listen to your rambles, ask questions and share their own thoughts in return.

They want to show you the little things they love, even if they’ve never shared them with anyone before.

They want to try your hobbies, not because they suddenly need company, but because it’s you.

They want to spend time with you, not because they’re lonely but because they’ve realized that time with you is the only company that feels right.

The F/O who’s convinced themselves they don’t need or deserve anyone? You’re the exception. You’re the one they let in. 💜

Proship/Comship and F/O doubles please DNI.

divider by cafekitsune

[batboysanonymous]

Man, am I the greatest (Extended Version)

Cassian x Reader

Summary: She had spent years making sure he was okay. Making sure he was fed, rested, whole. And yet, when she stood at the edge of a decision that might break them both, she wondered if he would even notice.

Continue reading below ⬇

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Y/N sat at the edge of their shared bed, arms wrapped around her legs as she listened to the sound of Cassian’s breathing. Deep. Steady. Peaceful. The kind of rest he deserved after long days of training, after endless war councils, after the burden of command pressed so heavily on his shoulders.

She had stayed up to wait for him, like always. Hours passed, candlelight burning low, until exhaustion pressed her eyes shut—but she never truly slept. Not when she knew he would come home aching, wings sore, muscles strained.

So she took care of him. As she always did.

The moment he crossed the threshold earlier that night, she had guided him to the bath, washed the dirt from his skin, traced the scars that whispered stories of all the times he’d nearly left her. Then she had held him until he was ready to sleep, her fingers smoothing over his hair, his back, his wings.

Cassian was everything. He was the heartbeat of Velaris, the force that held their world together.

And Y/N?

She was just the one making sure he didn’t fall apart.

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The sun rose too soon.

Y/N felt the emptiness beside her before she even opened her eyes. The sheets were still warm where Cassian had slept, but he was already gone.

Again.

She pulled the blankets tighter around her, forcing herself to breathe through the ache in her chest.

Cassian had never meant to make her feel like this.

He loved her—she knew that. He kissed her softly when he had time, murmured his affections when he remembered. He pulled her into bed after long nights and whispered, You’re my mate. My everything.

But love alone had never been enough to stop loneliness from creeping in.

Because Cassian didn’t see the way her hands shook when she reached for him at night, needing comfort more than she dared to admit. He didn’t notice the way her ribs ached from exhaustion, from skipping meals because her priority had always been him.

She could be bleeding, breaking, drowning right in front of him, and he wouldn’t realize—because she never let him.

Because she had trained herself to be unshakable. Unbreakable.

And he had come to expect that of her.

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By the time Cassian returned that evening, Y/N had already made dinner. It wasn’t much, just something to keep him strong, to make sure he had what he needed.

She hadn’t eaten yet.

The door swung open, and there he was, armor dusted with dried blood, his hair windblown from the flight home.

She didn’t ask if he was okay. She already knew the answer.

“Long day?” she murmured, stirring the soup she wasn’t sure she had the energy to eat.

Cassian sighed as he removed his boots, stretching his arms over his head. “You have no idea.”

No, I do. Because I’ve spent every second worrying about you.

He walked past her, pressing a kiss to her temple, but it was quick. Distant.

Like she was just another part of his routine.

And gods, she wished she didn’t care.

Cassian sat down, diving into the meal she made, and Y/N just watched him.

She wondered if he had ever once considered how much she gave to him. If he knew how deeply she loved him. If he realized how much of herself she had let wither away just to keep him standing.

Would he even notice if she stopped?

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

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The bedroom was dimly lit when Cassian finally joined her.

Y/N was already curled beneath the sheets, her back to the door, pretending to sleep.

She felt the bed dip as he slid in beside her. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close, pressing a lazy kiss to her shoulder.

It should have made her melt.

But all it did was make her want to cry.

Because she had waited—gods, she had waited—for him to see her, to reach for her the way she always reached for him.

And every time, it felt like too little, too late.

Cassian’s lips trailed down her neck, his hand slipping under the blanket. “Missed you today,” he murmured against her skin.

Did you?

She almost said it.

Almost shattered the fragile illusion that had kept them together all this time.

But instead, she turned in his arms, let him kiss her, let him touch her. Let herself believe—if only for tonight—that this was enough.

Y/N stood by the window, staring at the city below, at the stars above.

Cassian was still asleep.

For once, she hadn’t stayed beside him, hadn’t let him anchor her to a place where she felt so unseen.

She wasn’t sure how she had let it get this far.

She loved him—gods, she loved him—but love was supposed to be seen. Love was supposed to be felt.

And Cassian… he had gotten so used to her being there, to her giving without asking, that he had never considered she might need something, too.

Her heart clenched, and she pressed her palm against her chest, as if she could hold herself together.

She wasn’t sure she could keep living like this.

She wasn’t sure Cassian would even notice if she left.

And that—more than anything—was what broke her.

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Cassian felt the emptiness the moment he walked through the door.

It was quiet. Too quiet.

His brow furrowed as he set down his weapons, scanning the dimly lit space. No warmth from the kitchen. No familiar scent of something waiting for him on the stove.

No Y/N.

She was always home before him. Always waiting.

For the first time in a long time, Cassian realized—he had expected her to be here.

Had taken for granted that she always would be.

And then the door creaked open.

Y/N stepped inside, her cloak damp from the misty evening air. She moved with the same quiet grace she always did, but something was off.

Cassian felt it immediately.

“Where were you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

She stilled, fingers lingering on the buttons of her sleeve. Then, slowly, she lifted her gaze.

“I needed some air,” she said softly.

Cassian frowned. “You didn’t tell me.”

Her lips pressed together. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

The words struck deep, like a blade to his ribs.

His heart pounded as he took a step toward her. “Of course I’d notice.”

Y/N let out a quiet, humorless laugh. “Would you?”

Cassian opened his mouth—but no words came.

Because she was right.

She had been slipping further and further away, piece by quiet, broken piece.

And gods, it made him sick.

“Y/N…” He reached for her, but she took a step back.

It was a small thing, barely a breath of space between them.

But Cassian felt it like a chasm.

A divide he wasn’t sure how to cross.

“I love you, Cassian.” Her voice wavered. “But I can’t keep giving you everything when you don’t even see me.”

Cassian’s throat bobbed. “I do see you.”

She shook her head. “You see the parts of me that are convenient. The parts that hold you up, that take care of you. But when have you ever asked if I needed someone to hold me up?”

Silence.

And she knew it.

She took a step back.

“Don’t go,” he rasped.

Y/N swallowed hard. “I need time.”

Cassian shook his head. “No. No, we can fix this—”

“Then see me, Cassian.” Her voice was thick with emotion, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “See me before I’m gone.”

Then she turned, stepping into the shadows of their bedroom.

And Cassian was left standing there, staring at the space where she had been, wondering if he had already lost her.

───────────────────────────────

Cassian stood frozen in the dimly lit room, his heart pounding, his mind racing.

He had spent his life in battle, had faced countless enemies, had nearly lost everything time and time again.

But he had never been more terrified than he was now.

Because for the first time, he realized—he might actually lose her.

Not to war. Not to some unseen force.

But because he had taken her for granted. Because he had let her slip through his fingers, too caught up in the weight of his responsibilities to notice that she had been drowning right in front of him.

And it wasn’t enough to tell her he saw her.

He had to show her.

Y/N woke to an empty bed.

She shouldn’t have been surprised. Cassian always left early—training, war councils, duties that never seemed to end.

But something was different.

The sheets were still warm beside her, but the scent of him was stronger, like he had been there longer than usual. Like he had stayed, watched her for a while before leaving.

And then she smelled it.

Coffee.

And—was that bread?

She pushed back the blankets, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she padded toward the kitchen.

She stilled in the doorway.

The small wooden table was set. Two plates. Two cups. A still-warm pot of coffee in the center. A simple breakfast—eggs, fruit, warm bread slathered in butter.

And standing by the stove, flipping another egg onto a plate, was Cassian.

He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his hazel eyes searching hers.

“Good morning,” he said softly.

Y/N could only stare.

Cassian never made breakfast. Not because he didn’t care—she had never even asked him to. She had simply done it, always. Without hesitation, without expectation.

She swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the fabric of her nightgown. “What… what is this?”

Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking unsure of himself. “I… I thought I’d make you breakfast.” A pause. “I wanted to do something for you.”

Y/N's heart clenched.

She should have been angry. Should have told him that one breakfast wouldn’t fix anything, that it wouldn’t erase months of feeling unseen.

But gods, she felt it.

The effort. The choice he had made.

Because she knew Cassian.

Knew that he was terrible in the kitchen. Knew that he had probably burned the first few eggs, that he had likely cursed under his breath when the bread got stuck in the toaster.

But he had done it anyway.

For her.

She blinked rapidly, forcing down the lump in her throat as she stepped forward, sliding into the chair across from his.

He sat down slowly, watching her carefully, as if afraid she might still pull away.

Y/N picked up a piece of bread, taking a small bite.

It was slightly burnt. The butter was unevenly spread.

It was perfect.

Cassian exhaled, his shoulders sagging with relief as he watched her eat.

They sat in silence for a moment, the morning light filtering through the window, the city slowly waking around them.

And then Cassian spoke.

“I know one meal doesn’t fix everything,” he said quietly. “I know I’ve been… absent. More than I should be. And I know that just saying I see you isn’t enough.”

Y/N set her fork down, her eyes meeting his.

Cassian swallowed, his fingers clenching around his coffee mug.

“But I do see you, Y/N. I see you when you stay up waiting for me, when you take care of me before I even ask. I see the way you never put yourself first, the way you carry so much more than you should. And I hate that I made you feel like you had to.”

Her throat tightened.

“I don’t want to just say I love you,” Cassian murmured. “I want to show you.” His voice wavered. “If you’ll let me.”

The weight of his words settled between them, heavy and fragile all at once.

Y/N let out a slow, shuddering breath.

And, for the first time in a long time—

She let herself hope.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Taglist:@willowpains, @fanficscuziranout, pham-tastical

Want to join my tag list? Drop a comment or check out this link to submit a specific series you would like tagged in! (Or if you just don't want to comment, that's okay too)

[lazysoulwriter]

daddy incident. - pedro pascal.

You and Pedro were hanging out with a few of your friends at a cozy café. The conversation was light, filled with laughter and chatter, and you felt completely at ease—until you slipped up.

It wasn’t even intentional. The words just spilled out, the nickname you and Pedro had casually adopted in the privacy of your own home, now slipping out in front of everyone.

“Daddy, can you pass me the...”

The moment it left your lips, your eyes widened in horror. Your hand froze mid-air, the awkwardness settling over you like a thick cloud. The conversation came to an immediate halt, and every single person around the table looked at you with raised eyebrows.

The silence stretched on, the weight of your slip-up sinking deeper into your chest.

"Oh my god," you whispered to yourself, your face flaming red. “Did I just—?”

Pedro, ever the savior, didn't even flinch. He smiled, the mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, perfectly unfazed by the blunder. His voice was casual, teasing, as he met your gaze across the table.

“Yeah, mama? What’s up?” he said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

The tension in the air broke immediately, and your friends burst into laughter. You covered your face with your hands, hiding your embarrassment, but the warmth of the moment made it all feel okay. Pedro had this way of making everything feel normal, even when you messed up.

“I'm dying,” you muttered, your voice muffled by your hands, but you couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips.

Pedro chuckled, reaching over to ruffle your hair. “You know I’ve got your back,” he said with a wink, effortlessly easing you back into the moment. “Besides, it’s not like they don’t know we’re... close.”

Your friends, still laughing, nodded in agreement, but the teasing smiles were no longer judgmental—they were more understanding than anything else.

“Whatever you two call each other, I’m just glad we’re all friends,” one of your friends said with a shrug, still grinning.

You sighed in relief, feeling your heart settle. Pedro was always there to cover you, to turn something awkward into something sweet.

“Thanks, Daddy,” you muttered under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Pedro raised an eyebrow. “You know I’m always here, mama.”

And just like that, the moment was over. The laughter continued, and you felt an overwhelming sense of love for him, for the way he made everything easier, even the embarrassing moments.

[malfoysanctuary]

In the Palm of Your Hands

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: He had never been one for softness, never let himself crave the warmth of another—not until you. And now, with your fingers tracing constellations along his skin, he realizes just how starved he is for a touch that doesn't wound but soothes.

Continue reading below ⬇

───────────────────────────────

The first time you touch him, really touch him, he stiffens.

It's subtle—the way his shoulders lock, the sharp intake of breath that never quite makes it out as an exhale—but you feel it beneath your fingertips. A reaction so ingrained in him, so deeply embedded, that you can almost hear the unspoken thought running through his mind: Bracing. Preparing. Waiting.

For what? You don’t want to know.

But what you do know is this: he isn’t used to being touched gently. He isn’t used to fingers that soothe rather than strike, to warmth that doesn’t burn.

Your fingers ghost down his forearm, slow and deliberate, barely there. You give him time—to pull away, to stop you, to tell you this is something he doesn’t want.

But he doesn’t move.

He only stares down at where your hand meets his skin, as if the sensation is foreign, unreal. His breath is shallow, controlled, but you feel the tremor beneath his skin. Not fear. Not discomfort. Something else.

Need.

Hunger.

A quiet, aching sort of yearning, as if he wants nothing more than to lean into the warmth of your touch but doesn’t know how.

You thread your fingers through his, locking your hands together fully. “You don’t have to be afraid of me.”

His jaw tightens. “I’m not.”

You squeeze his hand once. “Then why do you look like you’re about to bolt?”

His laugh is hollow, humorless. “Because I don’t—” He stops himself, as if realizing the weight of his own words. “I don’t know how to do this.”

You soften, running your thumb over his knuckles. “You don’t have to do anything. Just let me be here.”

For a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move. But then, just as you think he might pull away, he exhales, his body sagging ever so slightly. Not much. But enough.

And it’s a start.

It doesn’t happen all at once.

At first, it’s just the small things. Your hand resting briefly on his arm as you pass in the corridors. Your fingers skimming over his when you hand him a book in the library. The way your thigh presses against his beneath the table in the Great Hall.

He never stops you.

But he never asks for it, either.

Until one night, when something shifts.

It’s late. The fire in the common room burns low, the castle silent save for the distant howl of the wind outside. You find him by the window, his silhouette outlined by moonlight, his expression distant.

You hesitate for only a moment before walking up behind him, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He shakes.

The tremor is slight, barely there, but you feel it.

“Hey,” you murmur, stepping around to face him fully. “You okay?”

His gaze flickers to yours, something unreadable behind his eyes. He doesn’t answer.

Instead, he reaches out, hesitant but deliberate, his fingers brushing against your wrist. A silent question. A plea.

You answer by taking his hand and guiding him back to the couch. He lets you, lets you pull him down beside you, lets you wrap your arms around him as he tenses—just for a moment—before melting against you.

And Merlin, does he melt.

His head falls against your shoulder, his body pressing into yours, like he’s trying to crawl into your skin, like he can’t get close enough. His breath is warm against your neck, ragged and uneven. You feel the way his hands tighten around the fabric of your sweater, the way his fingers dig in like he’s afraid you’ll let go.

You don’t.

Instead, you shift so he can press his face into the crook of your neck, your fingers threading into his hair, rubbing slow, soothing circles.

“I’ve got you,” you whisper, lips brushing against his temple. “I promise.”

His exhale is shaky. “I—” His voice cracks. He swallows. “I don’t know why this is so—”

“Hard?” you finish for him.

A small nod against your skin.

You sigh softly, tightening your hold. “Because no one ever taught you it could be easy.”

He stills.

And then, after a long pause, he whispers, “No.”

Your heart clenches.

You pull back just enough to cup his face in your hands, tilting his chin so he has to meet your gaze. His eyes are dark, guarded, but there’s something raw beneath the surface. Something vulnerable.

You stroke your thumb along his cheekbone, softer than anything he’s ever known. “It can be easy,” you murmur. “With me, it will be.”

His breath catches, and for the first time, he doesn’t just let you hold him.

He leans into it.

And he doesn’t let go.

[clairewritesfanfics]

Dragon!Sylus x Non-MC!Reader Part 2

Synopsis: A depressed, transmigrated fan dedicates their life worshipping their favorite character. (Because not everyone can be a badass like MC.)

Trigger Warnings: The Reader is implied to be depressed and suicidal

A/N: Just a disclaimer, I currently know very little of the world lore for Sylus’ myth, just the bare bones of it. I’m waiting for his cards to rerun to read everything for myself so forgive me for any canon divergence. Sylus may also seem OOC. Part 1: here

“You keep staring at me.” Sylus sighed and paused from rummaging through the paper bag. “Is the sight really that amusing?”

You were on your knees, elbows on a nearby treasure chest as your knuckles cradled your cheeks. To others who have not lived a loveless life, your face was the picture of adoration, but the dragon who knew only hatred and disgust could not recognize the expression you wore as you observed him.

You glanced at his giant talons holding a can of iced mocha and hummed.

Five cans of coffee from different brands, random sweets, a bag of potato chips, and one sad fruit cup to hold up the illusion of health were meant to be your dinner that fateful night. You had overtime and didn’t want anything that required more than one hand to eat. 

That paper bag from the convenience store along with your work bag were the only things you had when you were dragged into this world. 

“You look adorable,” you said.

“That’s the first time anyone has used that word to describe me.”

“Then everyone before me was blind or stupid or both.” 

He ignored you and shook the coffee can. “I can feel something liquid moving inside. I’ve never seen these characters before.”

“That’s because me and that can are not from here. It’s a type of coffee, er, I don’t know if that exists here… it’s a naturally bitter beverage that’s made from a type of bean. That recipe makes it sweeter though.” You got up and approached him. You reached for the can but he pulled it away, looking confused and defensive, like a child that did not want to share its favorite toy. 

You giggled. Maybe he liked that the container was shiny. “I’m not going to take it away from you, I’m going to open it so you can have a taste.” 

He reluctantly parted with it and you showed him how to pull the tab open. 

“Hear, take a sip.”

He took a sniff of the coffee, nose scrunching before he glared at you.

“It’s not a trick. I bought those for me, you think I’d drink poison?”

Relenting, he finally took a sip, brows furrowed. Then he took another sip, then another, and then he gulped down everything with his tail sweeping excitedly against the floor, pleased. “This taste is… new to me.”

“It’s bad to drink it all in one go, you could get a bad case of the tummy ache.”

“I’m not some impatient child,” he huffed, childishly. 

“Whatever you say.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“You’re imagining things.”

He growled, no, purred like a dissatisfied kitten before turning his attention back to the contents of the paper bag which now lay scattered about on the ground. He looked calm but with the way his tail kept wagging, you knew he wanted to try more.

“I’m sorry for laughing. You can try some more.” You picked up several snacks and held them out to him. 

He remained unmoving, but his eyes could only barely hide their desire to eat. 

You wondered what was the problem for a while. Suddenly, it came to you that he was likely feeling shy, almost reserved, not wanting to take more of your food. Pfft. It is truly a wonder how anybody could hate such a cute creature.

You cleared your throat and picked out a snack yourself. You tore open the box and aluminum then pulled out a single stick of the chocolate-covered biscuit. “This is called Pocky. There’s an interesting game for it, too. Two people compete to see who finishes it first.” 

“Compete how? It’s way too small to even share–” His tail stopped moving when you put one end of the biscuit in your mouth and then pointed at the other end.

His expression of bewilderment morphed into a teasing smirk. “So this was your goal. If you wanted to kiss me, you should’ve just been honest from the start.” He leaned over to you. Those soft lips barely grazed the stick before you inhaled the whole thing in one go.

You swallowed and said, “You lost.” 

“...”

“...”

He pulled out another biscuit and put it in his mouth, then turned to you. You bit down on your end and stole the whole thing away before he had the chance to breathe.

You covered your mouth as you chewed. “Lost again.” 

He got another stick and you stole that too. And then the other one, and then the other one, and so on. Soon, the box was empty and Sylus’ tail thumped furiously.

You swallowed the last of your spoils. “And here I thought dragons were apex predators.” You didn’t expect to win so many times. Although considering how short your breaks were, eating quickly came as easily as breathing to you.

“You cheated.”

“Don’t be a sore loser. Aren’t your kind supposed to be the epitome of grace and dignity?”

“...”

“Don’t pout. You can have the rest of my food and drinks.” You nudged the remainder of your “dinner” towards him. 

“...”

“Don’t tell me you’re actually mad?”

He silently traced the rim of a coffee can. Eyes downturned, he asked, “I can’t tell whether it’s bravery or foolishness. Most humans want to kill me, but you talk and act as if you do not even see me as a threat.”

“That’s because I don’t.” 

“And yet you’re weak.”

“Well, yes. In fact, if you were to throw me away right now, I have no doubt that I would die in the wilderness within a day.”

“How…”

“Hm?”

“How are you so bold?”

Bravery or foolishness. If you had to think about it, it was neither. The truest answer was this: apathy. You stopped being alive years ago. You were empty until Sylus breathed life into you. You adored Love and Deepspace but to be honest, even when you had the game version of your darling, it was merely a distraction. If you were to get hit by a truck before finishing the story, you would have been okay with it. Even now, as you knelt before the authentic thing, should your favorite kill you then you would be fine. 

A walking corpse was still just a corpse, after all.  

You gave Sylus a soft smile. “I don’t think I’m being bold, though.”

“You confuse me.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You offered him the capuccino. 

“Do you really have no place else to go?”

You shrugged. If he were to somehow kick you out of this prison, there is no doubt that you will end up dead in a matter of days. But you didn’t want to manipulate him with guilt. Whatever choice he made, you would accept. “I was just joking earlier, I’m tougher than I look. I’ll survive.” You grinned, hoping it would be good enough to convince him.

He touched the can but didn’t hold it. He looked at you and said, “...If it's all right with you, just stay with me.”  

How could you refuse?

@phisen @leryg0 @capribun @sinnamon-bunn @wegottastayfocus @erisnxxi @syyyy4ever

[lchufflepuffcorn]

Nesting head canon

Requested here by the 🥰anon!

Note : I've changed computer and now I don't know how this thing works. I'm so sorry if anything happens, I'll try to correct any mistake as soon as possible! Keep in mind that English is not my first language, so be kind if you want to correct me (or else😶‍🌫️).

Masterlist

Dragon!Hybrid masterlist

Warning : Minor DNI. Spicy content ahead, consider yourselves warned. Aemond : Mention of penetration (reader receiving) Laenor : Mention of penetration (Character receiving). Fingering (Baela Recieving). Dry-humping (Jacaerys doing it). Sub-ish Laenor cuz I can. No official gender references for the reader.

Aemond: 

Nesting™ for Aemond is not something that will change his way of acting toward you, not to the outsiders eyes, anyway. He’s pretty minimalistic in his approach. He’ll spend more time with you, touching your shoulders or the small of your back more often. Fleeting touches of his fingers brushing yours as you walk before wrapping your arms to his. If he even thinks that he saw you shiver from the cold, he will give you his jacket/cape/scarf/etc menacingly. He’s clingier, in the way that before, he could manage to have you roam all of the King’s Landing castle with only people at his booth giving him notes on your whereabouts. When he’s nesting, he has to have you next to him, or if he really cannot be with you, with Helaena. He doesn’t trust anyone else with you but his sister, his sister’s guards (because she’s the princess, and then the queen) and himself. 

He will rearrange the chambers and keep it cleaner than it already is during that period of time. The cushions would be comfortable, soft, the linens clean and fresh at all times. The room (especially the bedchamber) would smell of your favourite scent, the bed itself would have draps covering it from unwanted eyes, but shear enough so that the room outside would be visible if any kind of lights are lit. Aemond would also make sure that you are fed enough, going as far as to have snacks readily prepared for you next to the bed. 

I also see Aemond being softer with you when he’s nesting. 

Kisses shared as he moved inside of you, hands caressing your face, you chest, hips then legs, as if Aemond doesn’t know where to place his hands the most. The candlelights make his eyes shine with more adoration that you’ve seen from him than he’s had for weeks now. His hair, stuck in a braid you’ve treaded falling over his shoulder swinging with each wave made by the movements of your bodies intermingled together. His patch still ornating his face, he shivers and sighs when your lips leave his and trail all over his face. His hips still when you reach the dark patch over his maimed eye. 

“Qelos…” He breathes his pleas softly, one of his hands reaching for your face, putting a bit of distance between the two of you to examine your face. 

“I want to see you.” Your voice nearly makes him whine (weak, Vhagar growls at the voice in his mind). Aemond’s breath hitches when you make the two of you roll over to sit on his lap. He can feel himself piercing deeper into the warmth of your body, and the prince let his face fall in the crook of your neck, a soft moan of your name escaping him. 

Using his moment of inattention, you slip the patch covering his eye off of his head, leaving it on the pillow behind him. You kiss his scar, the corner of his eye, words of praise mingling with sighes of pleasure. Aemond could never imagine a more perfect being as you. 

Baela:

To Baela, nesting is the way to confirm and end a courtship. She knows that it will come back multiple times in her life and that it’s also used to achieve the catch of future hatchling within her. She could become pregnant outside of nesting season, but it’s easier when she is then when she’s not. And it’s a big deal to her. Everything needs to be perfect, she has to show you how good she would be to your hatchlings. Hence, she’ll pull all the stops. 

Baela would learn to crochet if you shivered, she’d hunt for a fur to add to your collection. Banquets would only serve food you like, your room would be cleaned and redecorated to fit the latest interest you’ve shone toward anything really. You would only find the softest material on the bed, and she would have upped the security of it with guards posting at the door and down the hall. She probably will also have hidden dagguers in many places, just in case. She's not clingy in public, but she cannot take her hands off of you in private, and she gets scary angry when someone interrupts your private session. 

You could never had been prepared to the dichotomy of Baela’s character as you were busying your fingers inside of her, pumping softly, kissing her shoulders as she writhed under you, moaning praises to you wantonly, and the snarl that echoed throught your bed chambers, freezing you in your position when her father (whom you hadn’t heard knock, if he had done so) entered your space. 

He didn’t seem bothered by the lack of cloathing he found you in, nor did he seem impressed by his eldest daughte’s fury. He spoke in valeryan, which you couldn’t understand, and promptly covered baela and yourself with the furs scattered on the bed. Baela spat something back to her father, dragon wings popping into existence, shielding you from further sight. Daemon rolled his eyes, added something that made your lover huff before he left, giving you a proud(?) look. 

“What was that about?” You asked once the door of the room was closed once more. Baela only sighed, plopping down on the soft pillows, her leathery wings sprawled on each side of her. 

“Father had been searching for us, the servants didn’t want to bother entering our room, they had an invitation to a banquet to announce. He thought he would be best if he told the news instead.” You nodded at her explanation. 

“And was it? Best, I mean.” 

Baela’s gaze fell on you, her eyes roaming over your naked body for a second before she shook her head. 

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, my brave Rider. Dragons have respect for other dragons, and their mates.”

She rose from her lying position, trapping your face with her hands and kissing you, not letting you wonder about the meaning of her words much longer before starting your previous activities once more. 

Jace:

To Jace, nesting is all about your comfort. He becomes much more overbearing and worried about your wellbeing, even in moments that aren’t warranting it. If you didn’t spend much time apart to begin with, say goodbye to your alone time altogether at this point. 

He doesn’t let anyone else touch you, even your help, he’ll wash you. Hell, he’d spoon-feed if you’d let him (you’re not). And if he could justify it, you wouldn’t leave the bedchambers at all. There is no reason why Luke and/or Rhaena would need your attention more than he does!  

Jace’s nest would be one of the more chaotic ones, however. Sure, it’s made out of the nicest materials he could find, and all of your favourite things surrounding it, but it’s not in your bed, rather in the room that contains all of your clothes, behind the bed, where it’s more protected. It’s on the ground (but he’s made a soft surface so that it’s comfortable, he’s not an animal!!) and he freaks out everytime a servant tries to go inside the small space during his nesting period. 

“I still don’t understand why the bed is not acceptable.” You were muttering, neck thrown back as he placed a multitude of kisses on the skin of your neck, careful not to leave any (visible) marks there. A grumble left his chest, his dragon’s tail swapping the air around you 

“Safe.” He (or maybe it was Vermax) muttered against the skin of your neck, not even bothering to look up at you. You hummed, letting your hands tangle with his hair, eliciting a purr from him. 

“I know it’s safe, but from what? There’s about a thousand knights sworn to your mother present on the castle’s ground alone.” You teased. 

Unpleased by your words, Jace nipped at your shoulder, purring at the small sound of pleasure that made past your lips. He pressed his clothed body against yours, letting you feel his hardness as he rubbed himself on one of your legs. “Jewels need to be protected.” He breathed softly, teeth playing with the lobe of your ear. You hummed, contracting your leg to tease him. 

“Of course, darling.” It was no use to try and have him make sense right now.  

Laenor:

With Laenor it changed after the fiasco of his first nesting with you. But he always was very present and protective with you, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you would need at any point in reach. When he’s younger, he would muddle the courting rituals and the nesting instincts. 

Laenor was quite proud of this year’s nesting. He’d rearrange your shared bedroom so that the pile of comfortable and plushie material that usually served as a nest was in the corner, with  good sight on the door and an easy acces to the hidden door. He’d even had you scent (unknowingly) his favourite dress shirt. And now, he had you pounding into him, dripping sweat and puffing warm air into his neck and he purred incessantly. 

You’d willingly meet him inside of the nest, without asking questions and without having him coaxing you inside of it either. It was the first time it happened. You were becoming quite knowledgeable in dragonkin tendancies as time passed. A far cry from the child you were, unsure and hesitant about every action you did. 

“Ah… How come it’s with me you spent that time?” You asked, breath coming out short, his back arching as he felt your appendage hit his prostate repeatedly, a string of moans cutting his answering short. 

“You want to know now?” Laenor’s not sure if he should be insulted or preening at your curiosity. 

Your hands placed on his hips, you made him meet your mouvement sharply, and another pathetic endaring sound made it out of his lips. “Maybe not.” You chuckled, capturing his lips again with your own. 

Rhaena:

As her nesting instinct developed later in lifeshe might have been surprised by it. She is also pretty minimalistic with it, not understanding why she would do it anywhere else but in the bed (Jace does NOT give good advice.) She’s very conscious of your confort, and loves having your scents intermingle with eachother inside the nest. So be prepared to find clothes under the covers of your bed during this time period. 

I don’t think she’ll be very assertive or protective of you, per se, more so of the nest itself. It’s also not a reflex she has to protect it from the three little ones she’s taking care of for her aunt. Aegon III, Viserys and Joffrey have free passes when it comes to your nest, as she sees them as her own. 

“Rhaena.” 

Your grumbled echoed in the darkened bedroom of the essos manor you were currently invited to occupy,trying to wake the limp form cuddled at your back with an arm thrown haphazardly in her direction. The back of your hand hit something once, twice… three times before a groan answered your call. “What?” 

She nuzzled into your neck, both of you naked from your previous night, and with eyes groggily looking at the sad juvenile face pouting at you from outside the warm barrier of the bed, you tugged the covers closer to you. 

“There’s a child here.” 

Rhaena’s quick to raise her head from her pillow, looking over you to the white-haired little boy with fat tears threatening to fall from his eyes. She curse underher breath, exiting your bed and searching the ground for something -anything- to cover herself with. Rummaging throught the mess of linens you offert her a long shirt, unsure if it’s hers or yours, and uncaring at this point. You let her deal with Aegon, searching yourself for something that would make you more presentable before lying back down in your bed. 

It’s a good while after that Rhaena comes back in the bed, followed by the child, who settles between the two of you, content. She smile apologetically and you shrug. They might not be yours by blood, but they act like your children, so what if they spent time cuddling with you to find comfort? 

Taglist: @lady-dragon-rider or @lady-dragon-rider-2 (I don't know which one now..)

[marrziy]

Nate Jacobs x Male Reader

"Somos um ímpar"

                  Euphoria

★. Sinopse: a noitada termina com retrogosto, pois a bebida acentuou seu molejo, e não estar envolto em amarras ao lado de Nate sempre resulta em desgraça quando estão sozinhos.

★. Tags: semi-smut, dark & angst

Avisos: relacionamento abusivo, homofobia internalizada e coerção sexual em local público (estacionamento). Conteúdo sombrio!!!

★. Palavras: 925

2ª pessoa - presente

Você e Nate se despedem de seus amigos na entrada do pub onde viraram a sexta-feira, as largas janelas do estabelecimento refletindo os sorrisos fingidos que cobrem a aflição e a raiva.

Seus passos até o carro são lentos e falhos, enquanto os de Nate são ligeiros e certeiros. Você não vai ter um branco nem acordar fatigado, com dor de cabeça ou enjoado — apesar de almejar o blecaute —, pois não bebeu o suficiente para tais consequências, mas a alteração rendeu risadas altas e danças desinibidas, o que, para seu relacionamento, é combustível puro para o flambê de um dos lados.

Você acelera para alcançar Nate, pondo-se à frente dele e espalmando o peitoral cheio, olhando para cima de encontro ao abismo acastanhado. "Cê tá bravo comigo?" o porquê nunca valia a pena ser questionado, então você fica na ponta dos pés para se desculpar no calor do pescoço perfumado. "Me perdoa… pensei que estava sendo um bom garoto…"

Nate enrijece, sentindo seus lábios roçarem na saliência onde o pomo de Adão trêmula. Ele fica em silêncio por longos e torturantes segundos, enquanto o zumbido distante do trânsito e o grito ocasional de um bêbado tornam o clima uma ocasião menos digna de suicídio.

Quando ele finalmente fala, sua voz é baixa e assustadoramente controlada. "Um bom garoto?" ele repete em tom ameno, amaldiçoando você com o anseio sórdido de que sua cabeça carcomida está tão familiarizada e desaprendeu a viver sem. "É isso que você acha que estava sendo lá?" a mão dele sobe, dedos se curvando na sua nuca, forçando você a permanecer na ponta dos pés.

Você não recua, mesmo sendo sua maior vontade no momento. Sua atitude é oposta ao instinto; você arrasta as duas palmas sobre o peitoral de Nate até estar apertando os ombros dele, sublinhando pavor ao oeste e falsa plenitude ao leste.

"Você me envergonhou, anjo." Nate se curva, sussurrando as palavras no seu ouvido, e há uma nota de decepção na voz dele que faz seu estômago gelar. "Você sabe que eu não gosto quando você chama atenção para si mesmo. Por que você tem que ser tão… espalhafatoso? É constrangedor ver um homem agir como você age nesses lugares. Ninguém gosta disso."

A outra mão dele vem descansar no seu quadril, o aperto firme, possessivo. Nate o puxa para mais perto, colidindo seus peitorais. Você pode sentir cada centímetro do corpo dele, principalmente os vinte que ele faz questão de pressionar contra seu abdômen.

"Pensei que tivesse sido claro…" Nate murmura, esquentando a cartilagem fria da sua orelha com a respiração quente. "Achei que tinha explicado o que aconteceria se você continuasse agindo feito um pirralho..." os dedos dele cravam na carne macia da sua bochecha antes de descerem até sua cintura, afundando ali.

Você não consegue evitar estremecer, deixando escapar um pequeno som dolorido que sobe garganta afora. "Sinto muito." sussurra, como se tivesse medo de expressar existência. "Eu não queria..."

"Shh." Nate o silencia com um sibilo exigente. "Não seja patético. Suas desculpas não valem nada pra mim quando eu não as peço."

Ele segura você naquela posição por um bom tempo, o aperto implacável machucando suas costelas enquanto os olhares namoram. Então, sem aviso, ele te empurra contra a lataria do carro, o metal frio em choque contra suas costas. Nate encurrala você antes que desvie, cobrindo sua estrutura menor com a corpulência dele.

"Creio que você precise de um lembrete sobre a quem você pertence." ele repousa o queixo no seu ombro, iludindo-o com a possibilidade de um abraço ao rodear sua cintura com os braços, mas terminando por apertar as bandas da sua bunda, fartando-se com sua carne ao que gruda seu quadril no dele. "Preciso reafirmar seu lugar, sua posição."

Os dentes de Nate afundam na lateral do seu pescoço, marcando você, reivindicando.

Um suspiro prolongado vaza por entre seus lábios, seu corpo se arrepiando conforme o romper suave da pele — que divide as células e você entre o instinto de se afastar e o desejo vergonhoso crescendo em seu âmago.

"Nate..." você choraminga, sua voz quase inexistente. "Não aqui..." seus dedos trêmulos tentam afastar o homem de quase dois metros, mas sua força não é uma boa aliada.

"Cala a porra da boca!" Nate resmunga irritadiço, entrelaçando os dedos nos seus fios e impulsionando sua cabeça para trás. "Você não pode me dizer onde nem quando." ele se esfrega contra você, rolando o quadril, deixando-o sentir o comprimento duro dele através da calça.

Você engole em seco, quase engasgando, sua boca de repente seca e seu coração batendo forte. Você sabe que deveria pará-lo, que deveria afastá-lo, dizer para ele cair fora, mas não faz nada; está congelado, paralisado pelo filho da puta do medo e pela puta da antecipação que há tempos deixa seu bom senso em frangalhos.

Por mais que você tema a fúria dele, você também a deseja.

Deseja a sensação de ser possuído, de ser colocado em seu lugar.

É doentio, errado, vergonhoso, triste…

Mas é tudo o que você conhece há tanto tempo.

Então, você fica ali, preso. As mãos do seu namorado percorrem seu corpo; os dentes, lábios e a língua dele marcam você como posse.

Você fica e aceita.

Como o bom garoto que deveria ser.

—★🎭📂: Biblioteca

hoje minha paranóia tá pouca, não revisei 100 vezes não, só 99, então finjam demência se virem algum erro.

[starconstruction]

Night of Passion

Gaeul (IVE) + Haseul (ARTMS) x Male Reader (Smut)

smut tags: oral, multiple orgasms, anal, creampie, minor objectification, fsub + fdom

Word Count: 2567

not proofread

spun a wheel and haseul won! maybe i should do this again in the future

The soft light of the hotel room illuminated the room, it was late at night while you sat on the bed watching YouTube. The night was quiet, the relaxing holiday you took paying dividends. You went alone, getting a break from the endless cycle of work. Being successful came with its virtues, like being able to afford this week.

You decided to explore the hotel, it was luxurious so it had to have something interesting to do, the corridors were well lit and clean. You walked through the opulent halls. Dragging feet against the carpet, maybe soft. You got to the fancy elevator, there was a sign against the number pad.

0 - RECEPTION

01-08 - ROOMS

09 - VIP ROOMS

10 - ROOFTOP POOL (VIP ONLY)

The pool sounded inviting, you weren't exactly in the attire for this. Simple shorts and a t-shirt was all you had on. But it'd do, you pressed the button. Stepping into the elevator as you embraced the unknown, going up a floor.

The sudden chill of the night sky hit you, the door opening and the chemical scent of chlorine enveloped your nose. The wind was still tonight, perfect to relax. The pool was a rich blue, illuminated by the lights that laid in the corners of the walls. What caught your eye wasn't anything offered by the hotel itself, it was the two women sat on the complimentary chairs.

One of the women gave a matured vibe, her body well developed where it counted, she was wearing a pearl white bikini, covering her well endowed breasts. An equally impressive toned stomach, visible muscles showing her effort in the gym. She was holding some form of alcoholic beverage, a deep red liquid swirled around the ice at the bottom of the glass. Her legs went on for miles as your eyes trailed down, her toes well maintained as they were painted a seductive red.

The other woman seemed more spunky, wearing a much more energetic yellow bikini, she didn't have as big assets as the girl she was talking to. But she made up for it with her beauty. She was sipping a clear liquid, probably wine as they conversed.

You were about to sit on the opposite end of the pool, ready to face the beautiful city. A voice shot through the night. "Hey hot stuff!" It was the older one "Come over here!" You weren't going to deny a pair of beautiful women as you walked over to them, "Evening ladies" You greeted as you sat down in the chair closer to the energetic one.

"Hello, I'm Haseul." The older one said, gesturing to the lively one "And this is Gaeul" Who smiled as she took another sip of her drink. "And so, who are you stranger?" Haseul asked. "I'm Y/N, just here on some relaxation, what about you two?" You replied.

"Oh, me and Haseul are also here for some relaxation. It's a busy life back at home." Gaeul said, her hand reaching down below next to Haseul's chair, fiddling with an alcoholic bottle and a spare glass. "Fancy a glass?" she asked, you nodded in response as she made you a drink.

The alcohol went down your throat as it left a burning sensation where it landed, the taste of fruit laid faint in your mouth. "So, what do you do Y/N?" Haseul asked, hands on Gaeul's shoulder as they leaned into each other. "Office work, managing papers, employees, boring shit but it pays well. You?"

"I'm a dancer and singer, this is the first time I've had to myself in months." Haseul moved away from Gaeul. "I haven't been able to use this pool, join me Gaeul?" She said, voice teasing her friend as Gaeul got up.

The two slipped into the pool, floating in the water as they splashed around. "Join us Y/N, just take off your shirt." Haseul said, you complied. Throwing off your shirt as you dived into the water, your shorts becoming saturated with water. "Looking good, damn." Gaeul flirted, a gentle whistle from her pursed lips. "Not so bad yourself, Gaeul." You flirted back.

You three spent the next short while together, talking about life and other stuff. Most of it wasn't of importance but the two women were very nice. The night got a lot more exciting as Haseul started to speak about something more, personal.

"Y/N, you find us attractive right?" She asked, adjusting her bikini slightly as the bottom of her breasts were now visible. You paused for a second, collecting your thoughts "You two are quite beautiful, yes.

"Well our little Gaeul over here wanted to have some fun, us three. Care to oblige?" Haseul took Gaeul's lips in a gentle kiss as your face flushed. "I would be happy to." You said, keeping a sense of confidence. Heart hammering in your chest as she got out the water, grabbing her stuff. "Come on then, let's have some fun."

-

Haesul and you aggressively made out, lips battling for dominance as you two got through your hotel room door. Gaeul joined in on the assault of Haseul's mouth. You made room, a mixture of lips as you frantically made contact, hands rubbing up and down her body. The strong scent of alcohol gnawed your senses. Haseul was propped into the wall as her bra came undone. You pulled away, "Fuck, Gaeul look at her tits." Your hand grabbed her breast, aggressively squeezing handfuls, Gaeul was a step ahead of you. Mouth pursed around Haseul's right nipple, sucking intently as you joined her.

"Keep going you two! Suck my tits!" Haseul moaned, you two were happy to oblige. Eager lips sucked, the faint taste of chlorine laid on Haseul's boobs from the time in the pool. Cleaned off by your tongue. You eventually grew bored, pulling away as you feasted on Gaeul's body with your eyes. She was so eager, tongue lapping up and down as she stared directly at Haseul. "I bet Gaeul has a really pretty pussy, wouldn't you agree Haseul?" You said to her, "Yeah!" She gasped out, still under Gaeul's relentless motions. "You should find out, Gaeul. On the bed for us." She commanded as Gaeul pulled away.

Gaeul was compliant, laying down as her hands unraveled the top part of her Bikini. Leaving the rest to you and Haseul, her hands eagerly gripping the remaining fabric on Gaeul's body. Revealing Gaeul's soaking cunt, saturated with arousal. "Spread her legs Haseul, give us room." You commanded, she complied as her hands gripped Gaeul's thick thighs, creating a gap for you two to lay in front of.

"Tell us what you want Gaeul, use your words." Haseul said, rubbing Gaeul's leg as she awaited a response. You got on your knees alongside Haseul. "I want you two, eat my slutty pussy out please!" Gaeul started to beg as Haseul took the first lick of her awaiting cunt, eliciting a gasp. You joined in, taking your first taste of the younger woman. She tasted pleasant as your tongue explored her, a mixed scent of citrus, arousal and vanilla as their perfumes mingled.

You and Haseul got to work, tongues bumping into each as you two lapped up her slick, "You two are so good! Fuck keep going!" Gaeul screamed, her hands found comfort in Haseul's hair. "We will, your whore cunt tastes so good." You said, going deeper as your tongue picked up a mixture of saliva and juices. Gaeul was shrill as her voice got higher, her legs tightened like a vice as it compressed you and Haseul's head together. "Fuck, IM GONNA CUM ALL OVER YOUR TONGUES" Gaeul let out, "Cum for us!" Haseul said, tongue speeding up as Gaeul came undone.

Gaeul laid heaving on the bed, taken to the highest gate of heaven, you let her recover as Haseul turned to face you. Her lips tilted in a crooked smile, "Look how hard you are Y/N" her hand palmed your clothed crotch "Let me take care of you." Haseul tackled you, hands tugging off your shorts. Her eyes beaming as your length stood proud, she started gently, kissing your tip with her plush lips. "What do you want? Tell your mistress." Haseul fell into the dominant role perfectly, making your heart skip a beat as warm breath on your balls made you gasp. "I want you to suck my dick, please." You weren't one to ask nicely but her presence compelled you.

"Nuh uh, beg for me. Beg for me to give you what you want." She urged you further, giving you the smallest touches, jerking her hand up and down on your cock with such patience it made you mad. "Miss, please suck my dick. Please, please." You felt pathetic, whiny utterances falling from your mouth. Haseul smiled as she took you in her awaiting mouth, her head game was elegant and refined. Tongue tracing up and down, little excess saliva pooled from her. This clearly wasn't the first dude she had blown, bobbing incessantly as she coaxed pleasure from your desperate cock.

Gaeul stirred, recovering from the explosive pleasure that just transpired. "No fair! I want his dick aswell!" Gaeul whined like a brat, Haseul withdrew from the your rigid length. "Come on then brat, if you are so desperate come suck it." She moved away, giving Gaeul proper access.

Gaeul gave head much less elegantly than Haseul, slobbering as her head went up and down. She sucked dick eagerly, her tongue warm as it licked your shaft. Haseul watched over her, smiling as her hand perched into Gaeul's black hair. "Honey, I think you could go so much deeper." Without warning Gaeul was shoved, shaft enveloped entirely as it lodged into her throat. Nose pressing into your crotch as Haseul held her down.

"Good, that's more like it honey." Haseul treated her like a fleshlight, yanking her hair as her mouth was forced to take you. Haseul's smile was sadistic, using her other hand to rub your balls. The combined assault made you dizzy, pleasure welling into your core. Gaeul's delicious gags brought you to the mountains edge, so close.

"Miss, I'm gonna cum!" You shouted, thrusting up into Gaeul's mouth as Haseul brought her down. "Cum! Fill this whores mouth up. Give her what she wants!" The new granted permission was rewarded with a violent release of semen, Haseul pulled her off your cock. Semen splashing against Gaeul's teeth, chin and cheeks. A canvas painted as she fell on the floor, aggressively heaving as she struggled for air.

You weren't doing much better, aftershocks felt all over your body as you battled for oxygen. "Fuck, that was.. Wow." You had very few words to say to describe the climax you just had. "It's only just beginning, Y/N. We have a lot to do." Haseul responded for Gaeul, who was laying covered in you.

Gaeul stood up, "I want this cock!" She begged, bringing it towards her silky folds, rubbing them together as you two let out gasps. "Please fuck me!" She whined, her pleading was starting to grate on you. Your hand found her cum coated face, gently pressing her cheek. "You want this dick so badly?" You growled, her lips pouted as she nodded. "Then come ride it."

You laid on the bed, allowing Gaeul to climb onto you. Needy crotches connected as she lowered, her cunt gripped onto you. Latching on as it never wanted to leave, a shared moan leaked from your lips. She hopped up and down, she lacked in technique as she frantically bounced. Her enthusiasm was contagious.

Haseul looked slightly fidgety as she did nothing, watching Gaeul bounce feverishly. You couldnt allow that "Haseul honey, strip and ride my face." She smiled, pulling the remaining fabric off her legs. Her pussy was undeniably perfect, similar to Gaeuls with the main difference being a thin strip of hair laid where Gaeul was bare. Another difference was her scent, significantly more powerful than Gaeul. Your mouth was occupied with Haseul, her legs crushing your face as she rode your tongue.

The dual riding session invoked a chorus of moans as your cock was being abused, "Yes! Yes! FUCK!" Gaeul kept screaming on loop, hands resting firmly on your awaiting chest. You were burrowed tongue first in Haseul, her sticky juices strong with musk as you took everything she gave you. "Ugh, your tongue is so fucking good. I'm gonna cum!"

It was like the three of you were linked by the fates themselves, hands cramping up as Gaeul squeezed one more time, her composure entirely fallen apart as her cunt creamed around you. Orgasming violently, her body spasmed as she screamed. You knew there was no turning back as you came in her greedy hole, which coaxed as much as it could from you. Haseul was the dynamite at the end, delayed slightly as her thighs quivered. Gushing liquid all over your face as she fell onto your chest.

Your hand gravitated towards Haseul's fat ass, spanking it roughly as you kneaded her bakery. "Shame we don't have any Lube, I'd love to pound this ass." You said, finger trailing her backdoor teasing her. "Gaeul, we have some, be a dear and go grab some." Gaeul smiled, throwing her towel around her perfect body. Covering it as she disappeared.

"You know, it's polite to eat a girl's ass right?" She teased, voice dripping with desire and contempt. You couldn't resist a request like that, hands sliding up her sweet ass. Her words gave you a new found hunger as you feasted on her sweaty asshole. Tongue moving on its own accord as you worshipped her. "Fuck.. Your tongue is so good." She groaned.

Her back arched gracefully, giving you better access to her backdoor. One you planned to explore fully later, for now you rimmed her hole. Your hands went to her nipples, squeezing them roughly "Ow! Keep doing that" she pleaded.

Gaeul returned, the towel falling to the ground. Revealing her ravaged body, a semi translucent bottle in her hand. Gaeul threw it into your hand "Go hard on her." It was a simple request, one you were more than happy to oblige. Your cock now shiny with lube as you rubbed it into her awaiting hole.

You pressed in, Haseul's ass significantly tighter than Gaeul's cunt. Squeezing the life out of you as inch went in by inch. Your hands found leverage in her ass cheeks. Her body trembled with your thrusts, aggressive slaps of skin "Fuck! Violate this ass!" Haseul said, urging you on. Hips moving faster to meet demand.

Gaeul wasn't just watching, fucking herself eagerly with her dainty fingers. Mouth agape as saliva drooled from her. The shared moans got louder as Haseul took your cock, there was nothing slow about this rhythm. A flurry of pleasure as you used her as just a hole to fuck. The hotel room reeked of sex, showing your effort to give them a night to remember.

The familiar sensation of your orgasm came quick "Fuck. I'm gonna cum! Cum in this worthless ass!" You kept thrusting as you two chased a high, cum spilling into Haseul's tight ass as you came together.

Gaeul was the first to speak "It's not over yet! I want to try!"

It was a long night.

[andy-15-07]

Would you want to write a Paul Mescal x Reader fix about that gladiator work out video?

Training the Gladiator

PAIRING:Paul Mescal x reader

WORD COUNT: 430 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Paul Mescal Masterlis

The gym smelled like sweat and determination, the air thick with the rhythmic clang of weights and the occasional sharp exhale of effort. Paul was in the center of it all, wrapped hands gripping a thick battle rope, muscles taut with strain as he slammed it against the floor in punishing waves.

You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, watching him with a mixture of admiration and amusement. "You do know they had no battle ropes in Ancient Rome, right?"

Paul didn’t pause, though a smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth. "They also didn’t have protein shakes, but I’m not giving those up either."

You let out a short laugh, stepping further inside. "Fair point."

The trainer barked out another set, and Paul transitioned seamlessly, grabbing a sandbag and hoisting it over his shoulder with a grunt. His tank top clung to his sweat-dampened torso, the defined lines of his arms flexing with every movement.

"You know, watching you suffer is actually quite entertaining," you teased, perching on a nearby bench.

Paul shot you a mock glare, dropping the sandbag with a heavy thud. "Oh yeah? Care to give it a go, then?"

You grinned, but before you could answer, his trainer called it. "Alright, that’s enough for today. Good work, Paul."

Paul exhaled sharply, rolling out his shoulders before grabbing a towel and swiping it over his face. As the trainer walked off, he turned to you, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Alright, tough girl. Let’s see if you can handle a fraction of what I just did."

You scoffed. "Paul, I’m not the one preparing to be a gladiator."

"Oh, so you admit you’d be hopeless in the Colosseum?" he teased, stepping closer.

You squinted at him. "I’d be fine. I’d just charm my way out of a fight."

Paul chuckled, tossing his towel onto a bench. "That wouldn’t work against me."

"Oh? And why not?" you challenged, tilting your head.

His lips quirked up as he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Because I’m not easily charmed."

You raised a brow, the air between you charged with something neither of you acknowledged outright. Instead, you rolled your eyes and patted his sweaty shoulder. "C’mon, gladiator. Let’s get you home before you pass out."

He let you lead him out, but not before muttering, just loud enough for you to hear, "I still think you wouldn’t last five minutes in the arena."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Guess you’ll just have to train me, then."

And from the way his grin widened, you knew he absolutely would.

[lesone-shot]

Quiet Moments With You

Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader just a quick fluff one-shot

You were curled up on the couch, a soft blanket wrapped around you, the evening calm settling over the room. It had been a long week, and all you wanted was a quiet, peaceful night to unwind.

Just as you were about to start the movie you had been meaning to watch for days, the front door opened with a soft creak.

“Hey, love, I’m home!” Daniela’s voice filled the room, warm and inviting. Her footsteps were light as she made her way toward you, a soft smile spreading across her face when she saw you lounging on the couch.

“Hi, Dani,” you greeted, your smile growing as she leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead. She smelled like fresh air and a hint of vanilla, her usual scent that always made you feel at ease.

“Long day?” she asked, slipping off her shoes and settling down next to you, her legs stretching out beneath the blanket. She pulled you closer with a gentle tug, and you happily snuggled into her side, letting out a contented sigh.

“You could say that,” you murmured, resting your head on her shoulder.

“But it’s so much better now that you’re here.” Daniela’s fingers gently played with your hair, her touch soft and soothing.

“I missed you today,” she confessed, her voice low, almost a whisper.

“Being with you like this, just us, it’s my favorite thing in the world.”

A small laugh escaped your lips as you gazed up at her, seeing the affection in her eyes. “Mine too,” you said, your heart fluttering as her hand gently stroked your back.

The two of you sat there, sharing the quiet, peaceful moments together. The movie long forgotten, you both simply existed in the warmth of each other’s presence, the outside world fading away. It was the little things—like moments like this—that made you feel truly at home.

“I love you, you know that?” Daniela said, her voice soft but full of sincerity.

You smiled up at her, the words coming naturally. “I love you too, Dani. So much.”

And with that, you both simply melted into each other, content in the simplicity of the night, the quiet whispers, and the unspoken promise that no matter what, you’d always find your way back to each other.

[batboysanonymous]

Burn for You

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Summary: Eris Vanserra was never meant to love, never meant to bow—but for her, he would kneel.

Continue reading below ⬇

───────────────────────────────

The bond had not been kind to them.

Not when it first snapped into place. Not when the realization settled, cold and cruel, in both their chests.

Y/n had been raised in the shadows of courts that would sooner see her dead than crowned. A warrior first, a ruler second, and a pawn—always. She had never once considered love a luxury she could afford, much less a mate. And certainly not him.

Not Eris Vanserra, the son of a tyrant.

Not the male whispered about in the dark, feared even by his own court.

But the Cauldron had chosen.

Fate had bound them.

And in the months that followed, through blood and war, through whispered truths and fire-lit nights, Y/n had learned what lay beneath the mask he wore so well. She had learned of the bruises that had faded with time but never truly left him. Of the father who had carved cruelty into his bones. Of the choices that had never been his to make.

And, slowly, she had learned something else.

Eris was not his father.

And when Beron fell—when the throne of Autumn lay open, its flames flickering in the aftermath of war—Eris had turned his back on it.

For her.

For them.

For the kingdom they would build together, one that would rise from the ashes of what once was.

But now, standing in the golden glow of their chamber, she wondered if he regretted it.

If, despite everything, he still longed for the court that had never loved him back.

───────────────────────────────

The scent of fire and cedar clung to him, intoxicating and consuming, as if even the gods had woven him from flame.

Eris Vanserra was a male of fire—an heir who had learned to wield cruelty like a blade, a son who had spent his entire life buried under the weight of expectation. The walls of his world had been carved from duty, the air thick with the smoke of a home that was never truly his.

And yet, in the stillness of the night, with the golden glow of his magic flickering across the walls, he felt something he'd never been allowed to have. Peace.

Because she was here.

Y/n. His mate. His High Lady.

She stood near the open balcony doors, bathed in moonlight, her gown slipping from one shoulder. Eris watched the fabric slide, revealing the smooth curve of her skin, a sight that had ruined him long before he ever laid a hand on her.

The title still felt foreign on his tongue. High Lady. It was not just his love for her that made him yield—it was the sheer, undeniable truth that she had always been meant for the throne. She was not a queen by marriage. She was a ruler by right.

His.

And yet, she had not spoken in some time.

Eris rose from the bed, silent as he crossed the distance. She did not startle when his arms circled her waist, when his lips brushed against her bare shoulder. He felt the way her body tensed, the thoughts that stormed behind her quiet, unreadable expression.

So he kissed her again—this time at the slope of her neck, a slow, reverent touch.

"Tell me what's plaguing you, my love," he murmured against her skin.

She exhaled, her fingers tracing along his forearm, over the golden cuffs of his tunic. "I still can't believe this is real," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eris turned her in his arms, pressing his lips to her temple. "Believe it."

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, eyes flickering with something raw, something that made his chest tighten. "You gave up everything for me."

He knew what she meant. The Autumn Court throne, the delicate threads of power he had woven in secret, the plans that had unraveled the moment he had chosen her above all else.

Eris smirked. "You think I regret it?"

"You should."

The words stung more than he expected.

His fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her gaze to his. "I spent years fighting for a kingdom that was never truly mine. I spent decades proving myself to a father who was never going to see me as anything more than a pawn." His voice lowered, rough with conviction. "But you? You were the one thing I ever truly fought for."

Her breath hitched, her lips parting, but Eris didn’t let her speak.

His mouth found her cheek, pressing a lingering kiss there before whispering against her skin, "You are perfect, my High Lady."

A shudder ran through her, a slow unraveling that he felt as surely as the mating bond humming between them.

And when she finally kissed him—when her hands fisted in his tunic, pulling him impossibly closer—Eris knew there was nothing left to fight for.

Because he had already won.

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